Author's Note: okay, I've been rumbled. I am, in fact, English, and thus speak English English and not American English. Consequently, as a number of people have pointed out, my idioms are sometimes a bit off. If you spot any that are, just give me a shout; I'm changing them as they're pointed out to me. Thanks muchly.

David Hodges was not a man known for his generosity of spirit; a lot of things pissed him off. Having other people in his lab, for example. Greg Sanders. Running trace analyses on other people's stomach contents. The fact that he now had to endure all three of these things meant that Hodges' face, as he stood before the pair of CSIs, was a mask of merely superficial calm, barely concealing the frustration that threatened to boil over at any moment.

'As I think I've mentioned before, I'm extremely busy at the moment,' he said without looking up, 'so if we could make this quick I'd be grateful.'

Sara cast a sideways glance at Greg. He raised his eyebrows and brought a finger to his lips in such an ostentatious manner that it took Sara a great deal of effort to keep herself from laughing and aggravating the technician still further. Composing herself, she sucked in a deep breath and in as cheerful a voice as she could muster, replied, 'oh, we shouldn't keep you long. We'd just be really grateful if you could give us the results on the Marshall case. It's rather an important lead at the moment…'

'When is it ever not important?' shot Hodges sarcastically, before continuing, 'Anyway, I ran the samples you gave me; no great surprises. Tom yam goong and green vegetable curry.'

'That's what the wife said just now; so far, so good.'

'And just to make sure I maintain my reputation for being thorough,' said the technician with a faintly patronizing smile, 'I compared them with these as well.' Hodges reached over to the counter and produced a tray. On it was a duplicate of the takeout order they had found in the trash, the steam still rising from the surface of the packages.

'Wow! Hodges, I'm impressed,' cried Greg, shaking his head. 'I mean, I liked to go the extra mile when I was working in the lab, but I never went so far as to shell out for control samples out of my own pocket.'

'What?' Hodges looked at the man as if he were speaking in Icelandic. 'I'm not paying for this stuff. I put it on the lab expenses account.'

'Oh.'

'Anyway,' he continued, 'everything checked out there. Where it gets interesting is the sample I received from Dr Robbins. Now stomach contents always look like soup anyway, but this time it really was soup and, apparently, nothing but the soup. Apart from the massive quantity of codeine, that is.'

Sara examined the printout that Hodges handed her, then passed it to Greg. 'So it was administered orally? In the soup?'

'Yup. Nothing out of the ordinary with the curry, but then it wouldn't have made any difference to your vic if there had been, since he didn't eat any.'

'None at all?' asked Greg.

'Nope. Check the report. Just the soup, codeine, and some trace constituents – examine it yourselves. Now if it's alright with you, I have some other matters to attend to.'

'No, no, that's fine,' replied Greg, 'and thanks.' He gestured towards the tray. 'So, er… you going to eat that stuff then?'

'Huh?' snorted Hodges, who had already returned to his work. 'No way – not after knowing what goes in there. Besides, it gives me indigestion.'

'Oh… so you don't mind if I…?'

'Take it. It's stinking out my lab.'

'Cool!' Greg passed the trace report back to Sara and scooped up the tray. 'See you, Hodges,' he called as they turned to leave, but the technician made no reply.

'You know what?' asked Sara as the pair walked the length of corridor from the trace lab. 'I think I've just spotted our little lie.'

'You do, huh?' replied her partner. 'Care to discuss it over a little dinner?'

Sara looked at Greg once more, who pulled a pseudo-suave face and held out an arm in a gentlemanly fashion. Pursing her lips into a smile, she took it and the pair made their way toward the break room.