At the start of shift that night, Sara was assigned a robbery at a jewelry store in the middle of nowhere. Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes, friends and co-criminalists, were to investigate a death under suspicious circumstances at the Hotel Monaco. "When is a death never under a suspicious circumstance?" Warrick had asked, and Sara had to agree. Catherine was to finish a case from the previous night, while Grissom assigned himself to finish the ever-present, and ever growing, pile of paperwork currently strewn about his desk.
It was only a quarter of the way into her shift when Sara returned back to the lab. As she walked past Grissom's office, he noticed the lack of evidence in her hands. This interested him, causing him to leave his office and call after her. "Sara?" he called quietly.
She turned around, retracing her steps until she was closer so that they didn't have to yell across the hallway. "Yeah?" she barked, agitation apparent in her voice and stance.
"Did you already drop off your evidence?" He stepped back, fearing her wrath. He knew how she could be when angry, especially having experienced it first hand.
"No!" She almost shouted. "There is no evidence!"
Now Grissom was confused. "What do you mean, 'no evidence'?"
"I mean, no evidence. False fucking alarm!"
"You wanted a robbery?" Grissom asked, earning him a smug snort.
Grissom raised an eyebrow, his usual signal to elaborate. "It seems that the owner had forgotten that he sold fifteen multi-million dollar diamond jewelry pieces to a collector earlier today." She sighed, exasperated from her rambling and long journey. "He couldn't have just called?" Sara asked to Grissom rhetorically, although furtively hoping that someone would give her an answer as to why she wasted her hard-earned gas and precious time.
Signaling her to follow him into his office, Sara entered first, allowing him to shut the door behind them, allowing them as much privacy as possible being that the blinds were already shut on the clear glass paned walls.
"Look," Grissom declared, pointing at his desk. "That is definitely more than I can handle in one shift," he told her, referring to the mound of paperwork that could rival Mount Everest. "Why don't you help me, that way we can be done by the end of shift?" Again, with the end of shift thing. She desperately wanted to know what he was planning. "You've seen my signature so many times, you can easily forge it when necessary."
"Grissom," Sara started, obviously objecting to the idea. "If Ecklie finds out…" She let it hang, not even wanting to think about what the assistant director would do to them.
"Sara, does it look like I care what Ecklie thinks?" Gil Grissom and Conrad Ecklie could be considered enemies, but to be enemies, you usually have many similar qualities; Grissom couldn't find any if they bit him in the ass.
So it began. Sara pulled up a chair next to Grissom behind his desk so that in case she should need assistance, she could easily ask him. Neither wanted to admit that that wasn't the only reason their chairs' arms were touching halfway through the pile, compared to the foot apart they were at when they started. As the hours went on, Sara was using Grissom's right shoulder as a backrest, her head nestled in the crook between his shoulder and head, his head relaxed on top of hers.
It was only a few minutes to the end of shift when Catherine walked into Grissom's office, unannounced in true Catherine style, to fine the two fast asleep, files still in both of their hands. She would have laughed at the absurdity of it had she not been relieved beyond believe that he finally got his 'head out of that microscope' that she had told him to do after another misunderstanding between the two scientists.
She locked the door from the inside knob, stepped out, and closed the door behind her. She knew this was probably a once in a lifetime chance for her good friends, and did not want to prematurely disturb their bliss. She'd let them disturb themselves when they found out what happened.