Okay, here is the 2nd chapter, and hopefully, the last. Hope you enjoyed them both, though I must say; this is a rather done-that-already story. Sorry, but oh well.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters (Sara, Greg, and Grissom). They are the creation of someone in the CBS studios. Everything you don't recognize is mine. :D
Rating: You won't go blind, obviously… Just about anyone can read this.
Summary: Sara and Greg, two days in high school, and such joyous fun.
Spoilers: None
Pairings: None… c'mon, this is high school, people.
Day 2:
Sara walked into homeroom and sat next to Greg. "Hey, there, buddy boy. What do you think is gonna happen in science today?"
Greg stared at her. "Well, I think we're going to have a sub. That's just about it. Are you okay? You're not, like, feverish? Deathly ill? Do you have amnesia?" At that prospect, Greg looked somewhat excited.
Sara shook her head. "Sorry, but no dice. I'm as fine as can be. Anyway, I know that we're having a substitute, but I was wondering what exactly we were going to do."
Greg got an "I'm so excited, I think I might pee my pants" look on his face. "If he doesn't enforce seating arrangements, maybe we could sit together. I mean, we'd have to ask somebody to move, but I don't think they would mind too much if they got to sit by their friends. And if he does make us sit in the same spots, we could torture him into leaving." He waggled his eyebrows while Sara laughed.
"We shouldn't torture the poor guy. I mean, you heard Mr. Jocksen… it sounds like this guy is sort of…"
Greg cut her off. "…Spastically insane?" She glared at him. Just then, the bell rang, signaling them to their advanced honors English class.
Finally, the bell rang to end their Governmental History class ("Zzzz…") and Sara and Greg scurried off to their lockers, jerked out their books, and ran into the science lab room, passing a man who looked no older than 30, talking on his cell phone. They sat down hurriedly in their assigned seats, both praying that they could sit together, while at the same time, praying that this guy, (Grissom, was his name?) was a good teacher.
The other students shuffled in slowly, just as the late bell rang loud and clear. Everyone sat down. There was still no teacher. All the stragglers walked in, sat down, and pulled out their books slowly. Still, there was no sign of a teacher, substitute or otherwise.
Finally the door opened and in walked the man that Sara and Greg had passed, the one who had been talking on his cell phone. He was rather handsome, with dark hair, a natural looking tan, and piercing blue eyes. He had a pair of glasses in one hand and a small pile of books in the other. Sara sat nearly paralyzed to her chair. Good grief, wasn't it illegal for 30 year olds to look that nice?
He smiled at them all, rather tightly, as if they made him uncomfortable. "Sorry I was late. Thom had some last minute information he wanted to share with me." Everyone stared at him. Finally, Greg raised his hand.
"Sorry sir, but who is Tom?" Greg pronounced the single t emphatically.
Grissom smiled again, this time with a little more warm hospitality to it. "Oh, that's right. You all know him as Mr. Jocksen. His first name is Thom, T-h-o-m. Well, speaking of him, Thom suggested I introduce myself for starters. My name is Dr. Grissom. I'm an entomologist at Las Vegas crime lab. I'm sure Thom already filled you in on how eternally scary I am. He's a liar. Well, maybe some of what he said was right, but I assure you, I do not hold half of the unorthodox quirks he listed to my character. Now, I understand that you all have a seating arrangement," he peered down at a piece of paper on the desk, "and you're following it. Very good. However, I'm sure if I don't let you sit with your little 'clique', I will eternally be known as 'the substitute who didn't let us sit with our friends'. So, as to avoid that little misunderstanding, if you wish to sit with your friends, you may do so. Then I'd like you to say your names in order of seats, so I can thus become better acquainted and thus not have to refer to a yearbook to find your name." Everyone shuffled about, and Sara grabbed the seat Greg had saved for her.
They were both in the third row, which was nice, because if you sit in the front or the back the teacher always stares at you. But, if you sit in the middle, you very rarely get glanced at unless you have your hand up. Greg leaned over to Sara and lightly punched her on the arm. "Hey, Sara, it's kinda rude to stare." She jerked out of her little reverie of staring at Dr. Grissom and smiled at Greg sheepishly.
"Shut up, Greg. Just open your books, not your mouth." They both laughed and got out their books. After they had stated their names, (Anna Richards… Michelle Frostern… Greg Sanders… Josh Harkman… Wesley Davis… Sara Sidle…) Dr. Grissom put up the overhead viewer and moved the projector over to the side of the room. "Alrighty then. Now, I have a mountain of paper work to hand back, so just give me a minute or two, and we'll hand that back."
As Sara and Greg were the first one's to hand in their tests, theirs were always on the top of the pile. Today was the exception to that rule. He went through all the other papers and tests (the papers were stapled together) and finally he got to Greg's.
"A Mr. Greg Sanders?" Greg raised his hand excitedly and nearly tore the paper out of Dr. Grissom's hand. He pumped his hand excitedly and whooped. Grissom smiled as Greg turned to Sara and said, with a charming smile, "One hundred and six." Sara wrinkled her nose at him and stuck out her tongue.
Then, over the clatter of "Oh you got a 75? I got a 57", Sara heard the words, "A Ms. Sara Sidle? Ah. There you are. Good work." Grissom smiled at her as he handed her the papers. She smiled widely, showing the gap in her two front teeth. Then she turned to Greg. "Best friend in the whole wide world, please look at it for me." Of course, Greg had already grabbed it and was reading it.
He slowly turned to Sara with a sad look and morbidly muttered, "Please don't shoot the messenger." He handed her the papers as she stared at him, horrified. She looked down and screamed excitedly. "I GOT A ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" She practically lunged out of her desk and hugged Greg around the neck. When she pulled back, she saw many death glares from the people who had failed, a huge grin from Greg, and… Grissom, who was laughing so hard that he, had had to sit down. Sara blushed happily and put the paper in her binder. She sighed contentedly.
After Grissom had finally finished handing out the papers, he told the students to close their books. Then he stood in front of them and smiled rather tightly, yet, at the same time, shyly. "Ok… Now, Mr. Jocksen informed me ever so kindly that none of you are interested in the least in science… And judging by your tests, I suppose he was accurate. Is it true?"
Sara and Greg exchanged an indignant look and raised their hands. "Excuse me," Greg said with a regally injured air, "but I believe that both you and Mr. Jocksen were, with all due respect, sir, both very wrong. Miss Sidle and I are both very geeky when it comes to the subject of science." He had said 'geeky' as if it were the most royal term in the dictionary. And judging from the look on his face, he believed it.
Grissom gave a short, but warm, laugh. "Yes, well, in this generation, majority rules, doesn't it? However, in the world of science, majority doesn't have any say in the matter. Unless of course, the majority of the evidence points to one conclusion and the occasional 'loose cannon' piece is being stubbornly rebellious. And then…"
The entire class listened intently for the first time that year.
Eventually, the bell rang and the students reluctantly gathered their books. Grissom smiled at them each as they passed. "'Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow.'"
Sara grinned giddily as she slowly stood up and gathered her books. Greg stared at her strangely, then started humming that eternally immature, yet always entertaining, tune. "Sara and Grissom, sitting in a tr—"
Sara cut him off with a nasty look and shot him daggers as she slowly shook her head. "Gregory Sanders, don't you dare." She then walked up to Grissom's desk (technically, it was Mr. Jocksen's desk). He looked up from some paper's he was checking (without the answer key, she noted). He smiled warmly at her as he removed his glasses.
"Why, hello there, Ms. Sidle. Congratulations on your test grade. I was very impressed. But I must admit, your reaction was rather… unexpected."
She grinned. "Now, why's that?"
He laughed throatily. "Well, you and Mr. Sanders look like the type of people who wouldn't exactly be surprised by that kind of grade. Just something about your… 'Aura' I suppose." She laughed at him as Greg joined them and Grissom continued. "Now, in the grade above you, there's a Mr. Brown… He has the type of appearance that just scares me. He just…"
Sara giggled. "Oh, you mean no one warned you? He has this habit of scaring people. He kind of just stares at them blankly, yet somehow managing to look intensely fascinated. He's really funny."
Grissom smiled. "Well, I'm glad that you told me now. I kind of would have preferred the information a little bit sooner. Oh, yes, that reminds me. Who is the gentleman in your class with short black hair? He seemed extremely interested in my lesson."
Greg and Sara exchanged blank looks. Finally, Greg spoke up. "I think the only short haired guy in this class is Nick Socks, or something like that. But something tells me he doesn't really pay attention to anything besides his girlfriend, sports, and reputation. Not always in that order."
Sara blushed, and then muttered under her breath. "Nick Stokes."
Greg looked at her with wide eyes and started humming the song again. She hit him on the arm and then said louder, "His name is Nick Stokes. He's a jock, but he's one of the only half decent guys in this school. He doesn't do anything cave man style, which ranks him in the top 3 guys in this school. He's the one who moved yesterday and got the table cleared of cheerleaders and sporty jerks."
Grissom watched the 2 teenagers interacting with their eyes, arguing silently about this young man who apparently, by Greg's account, had no future dream other than NFL all star. Finally, Sara won the mental fight and turned to Grissom once again. "Sorry about that. Um, Professor Jocksen said you might be interested in sitting with the student body at lunch… and um, if you are, then um… I just figured I'd let you know that our table has some extra room… well, a lot of extra room, but that's beside the point."
He smiled warmly at the two of them. "Thank you for the invitation. I think I'll accept." Sara grinned and walked happily off to her locker.
Just as she was about to open the door to her locker, she felt a hand gently push it closed. She looked up to see Nick (speak of the devil) staring at her with a nervous kind of smile.
"Hey, um… sorry, what's your name?" He asked, looking genuinely apologetic for not knowing her name. Not that she had expected him to know anything about her, or at least not in this universe where all that mattered was your status.
She smiled back hesitantly. "Are you talking to me?" He nodded with a slight laugh. "Oh, sorry, my name's Sara Sidle. Can I help you?"
He grinned yet again. "Yeah, actually, I was wondering if you managed to get notes on today's lesson. I would have gotten some, but I kind of got wrapped up in what he was saying."
She laughed. "I know, wasn't he fascinating? He's sitting with me and Greg at lunch, so I'm gonna be asking him a lot of questions. But, uh, yeah, I did get notes. I think Greg got better ones, but you can't really read his, so I can re-write his for you if you want."
Nick gave her a warm half-grin. "Thanks, that'd be great." Suddenly, his girlfriend, Stephanie, waltzed over and glanced over Sara.
"C'mon Nicky, why are you talking to her? Let's go eat." Nick tossed her an apologetic look as Stephanie dragged him away. As they walked away, Sara overheard him talking to Stephanie, "What was that all about? I was talking to her, if you didn't notice."
Sara sighed as Greg came over, shortly followed by Grissom. "So, I noticed you talking to lover boy, I mean, Nick. What did he want?" Greg asked, curious in one way, and rather jealous in another.
She shot him a glare. "Look, he just wanted the notes from today, ok? And if I ever so much as catch the slightest whispered idea that you mentioned the words Nick and lover boy in the same sentence, in reference to me, I'll tear your heart out with my bare hands." She sighed heavily and grabbed her lunch.
Grissom smiled. "So, was he paying attention?"
"What? Oh, yeah, he was. He said he was too wrapped up in the lesson to get down the notes. I dunno why, but I believe him, so I'm giving him the notes. Which reminds me, Greg, I need your copy of the notes." Grissom gave her a curious glance, to which she responded, "I usually rely on my memory, which works for me. Gregory here, on the other hand, relies on something written down to help out his memory, which works for him. We all have our different ways of studying and knowing, so to each his or her own." Grissom smiled as he watched Greg and Sara walk together, laughing at some inside joke.
At lunch, Grissom sat down slowly next to all the young fireball students, all chattering about some thing or other. When he looked closely, he could see the foundations of the school, the young adults that caused this school to earn such a high reputation. Sara and Greg chose seats next to three boys who, from their haunted appearance, had seen more in this life already than they ever wanted to.
Suddenly, the entire table silenced for some reason. Grissom looked at Sara and Greg for a possible explanation to the sudden calm, but apparently, they were as confused as he was. Suddenly, he realized that Nick Stokes, the young gentleman with the almost crew cut and rather large upper jaw, was walking straight towards Sara, with his tray in hand and a rather miffed look on his face. He glanced over at Greg and muttered, "Hey, dude. Is this seat taken?"
From the look on Greg's face, he almost said that it indeed was occupied, but with a single glimpse in Sara's direction warned him not to. "No way, man. Have a seat. What's up?"
Nick grinned lopsidedly. "Ah, Stephanie's mad at me for talking to Sara earlier. I take it your Greg?" When the former mentioned teen nodded, he continued, "Anyways, I just figured I'd join you guys, if it's no problem. Steph needs space to relax and calm down. She gets worked up if she sees me talking to any other girl, but especially one that doesn't run in her circle."
He looked up at Grissom suddenly. "Excuse me, sir, but I have a real quick question about today's lesson. I was just wondering what you meant when you said that the stages of a bug's life can solve almost any crime."
Grissom smiled politely and slowly, yet interestingly, divulged the information.
Sara and Greg walked slowly to the trash cans in the cafeteria, closely followed by Nick. The Texan smiled at Sara. "You know, that was an awesome lunch. I know that sound weird, but down at Stephanie's table, all they want to talk about is sports or parties. I'm not really into that whole scene."
Sara smiled back. "Yeah, that was fun having you talk with us. You're welcome to sit with us whenever you like." His smile grew from ear to ear.
"Thanks. I guess I better go see if I have practice today." He nodded at both of the other teenagers and smiled, walking back to the jocks. As Sara and Greg watched him walk away, they noticed Stephanie look up at him with a cold glare and turn her back to him. To their surprise, he didn't even seem to notice.
After school that day, Sara walked slowly out of her 'Introduction to Physics' class and smiled as Greg ran to meet her. She barely noticed as he yammered on about what his Grandpa Olaf was going to make for supper. At their lockers, Sara turned and shared some random tidbit with Greg. Grissom walked past them, grinning as he saw Greg playfully mess up Sara's hair, to which she responded with a threat of physical violence. Nick brushed past him with a smile and walked up to join the two 'science geeks'. Grissom watched as a tall, gangly African-American boy with curly brown hair, closely followed by a blonde girl with huge blue eyes walked up to the three other teenagers and started talking to them. He smiled, wondering if that was how life always was for them…
Ok, that's the end. Hope you liked it. I tried to incorporate all the actual CSI's, but Warrick and Catherine were hard to bring in. I guess I did the best I could. Please R&R. XOXO…
