'Evening all,' said Grissom, closing the break room door behind him. 'Everyone having fun?'

Greg swirled the dregs in his coffee mug. 'Is it grammatically correct to refer to two people as 'everyone'?'

'Thank you, Mr Sanders, I'll bear that in mind. Although after hearing about your run-in with Hodges and the 'funtain water', I'm not too sure about my confidence in your mastery of the English language either.'

Sara smirked and picked at the crumbs that remained of the Twinkie that Greg had pushed on her. Hydrogenated vegetable fat and sugar had not been usual features of Sara's pre-shift meals until he had come under her wing, but she had to concede that she found a guilty pleasure in sharing Greg's seemingly endless supply of snack foods.

'Whatever the correct sentence formation,' continued the supervisor with a cough, 'I hope you're both feeling focussed tonight. We've got a 419 in Summerlin and I've got a departmental heads meeting I can't get out of.'

'Ecklie piling on that Assistant Directorial pressure?' asked Greg, tongue only half in cheek.

Grissom sighed, then nodded. 'There's a fairly run-of-the-mill convenience store robbery out in Henderson too, but Nick said he'd take it since we're pressed tonight. So,' he continued, 'you have the DB all to yourselves.'

Greg and Sara high-fived one another, earning a somewhat puzzled look from Grissom at Sara's uncharacteristic behavior. The assignments meeting over, the three CSIs rose and made to leave.

'Tell Ecklie the staff demand that Snickers bars be returned to their rightful place in the vending machine, boss,' said Greg in deadpan.

'I'll second that,' responded Sara, smiling at Grissom briefly before following her protégé toward the locker room.

Grissom stood in the doorway for a few moments watching the pair as they walked down the corridor. Their words were indistinct, but above the hum of lab equipment and a muffled shot from ballistics, he could hear their laughter. With a sigh, he rifled through his stack of papers and headed back to his office.

'We are not having this conversation again, Greg.'

'Come on…'

'Turn the radio off.'

'I'm educating you in modern popular culture,' Greg whined. 'What's not to like about A Punchup at a Wedding?'

'The title?'

Greg laughed in mock disgust. 'You must like something. Do you ever listen to music, at home?'

Sara looked over her hands on the wheel, and thought for a moment. 'I like Blondie.'

'Success!' Greg twisted in his seat, fished around in the glove compartment, and held up two CDs. 'The classic but underrated Plastic Letters or the ubiquitous Parallel Lines?'

Sara smiled, flashing the gap in her teeth that he loved so much. 'Oooh, long word, Greg. I'll have to go for Parallel Lines.'

'Predictable, but a good choice nonetheless. Heart of Glass, I assume?'

'Of course.'

'We have a deal!' Greg slid the disc into the machine, and was soon air-drumming along to the music.

Sara glanced over at him. 'You know, it's not that long a drive to Summerlin.'

'Long enough to squeeze in One Way or Another. Maybe a Sunday Girl if we hit traffic.'

'I didn't think that Blondie was your thing. I thought you just listened to… noise.'

'I'm a man of taste and discernment,' he said with a grin, 'and I'm always open for a bit of a compromise.'