The Bet
By: Jenny and Emmithar
Rating: T (Just to be safe)
Summary: Greg learns the unfortunate consequences of what quick decisions can bring. Simple fluff, Sandle.
Disclaimer: Sadly we don't own them, but maybe one day…
A/N: Our first joint fic attempt, and is it a shocker that it's not angsty? …Okay, you can stop pretending to have heart attacks now, it's not that shocking.
The Bet
He opened the door quietly, barely a crack, just wide enough to see out of. Just to see if she was still there…and she was. Of course she would be, where exactly would she go? The bathroom? Unlikely, since he was currently occupying the small room.
Greg took a second look, watching as Sara brought the wine glass to her lips, sipping on the dark red fluid. She looked so content, so peaceful…so pretentious. Okay, so maybe that was too harsh of a word.
With a sigh he closed the door, leaning against the wooden frame, his hand still on the handle. In his other hand he clutched the blue bathrobe tightly, keeping it closed as he thumped his head against the door a few times for good measure as the one sole thought ran through his mind.
How, in the hell, did he get himself into this mess?
---
I am so good, sometimes I even amaze myself." Greg muttered, taking a sip of his water, "You are looking at Mr. Top Score."
"Mr. Top Score, huh?" Sara asked, a smile tugging on her lips, "Is that your new name?"
"I call it like I see it."
"So I'm assuming that means you did well?" Sara countered, glancing at the clock, "I still can't believe they gave us 3 hours to take something so simple."
Greg shrugged, "There are people still in there, you know, so some people are obviously struggling."
"But you claim that you're Mr. Top Score." Sara teased, "That means you probably flunked."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Greg replied sarcastically, tossing the styrofoam cup into the trash, "Glad to see you have my back."
Sara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow slightly, "Well, if you're so convinced that you're the best, then why don't you prove it?"
"Prove it?"
"A friendly wager." Sara replied with a grin, "What can it hurt, 'Mr. Top Score'?"
"What exactly are we talking?" Greg asked, his own arms crossing as he began to warm up to the idea, "Money?"
"Because we make so much in law enforcement?" Sara countered with a dry laugh, "How about pride?"
"Like, if I do better than you, you'll give me a strip tease?" Greg asked hopefully, giving the brunette his full attention, "Or are we talking something on a small scale?"
"Yeah, right, that's what I'll do." Sara replied with a laugh, "And in return, you can model a sexy two-piece for me."
"Okay, it's a deal!" Greg agreed quickly, attracting the attention of a few of their fellow classmates in the hallway.
"Honestly?" Sara laughed, raising an eyebrow, smiling when he nodded vigorously. "Alright Mr. Top Score, you have yourself a deal."
---
He heard Sara call him, urging him to hurry up. Of course she was waiting, thoroughly enjoying herself. Greg took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. The sooner he did this, the sooner it would be over.
Bare feet shuffled against the carpet as he made his way across the room, scowling in opposition to the delight on her face. "I was wondering if you got lost," she commented with a smirk, pouring herself another glass of wine.
"Do I really have to do this?" he questioned, an innocent look crossing his face as he sat down.
"A bets a bet," she nodded towards him, "quit being such a sore loser."
"But it's so degrading," he whined, pouting at her.
"That's the whole point Greg," she told him.
"What? Your satisfaction in my humiliation?"
Sara nodded, smirking, "Exactly."
Greg narrowed his eyes, frowning, "I was hoping for a little consolation there," he grumbled.
Sara only raised her wine glass in a mock toast, pointing towards his bathrobe, "Come on, take it off."
---
"Sanders, Greg." A middle aged man with thick plastic glasses droned, scanning the room, "Sanders?"
"I knew it!" Greg hissed, sitting down in his chair and sliding his test towards
Sara as he boasted, "98.9 percent. I am Mr. Top Score."
"Sidle, Sara?"
With a scowl on her face Sara rose to retrieve her paper from their instructor. It was damn near impossible to do perfect on these exams, and if Greg had a 98, especially a 98.9 it was quite possible that he had made the highest score in the class. She shook her head slightly as she took the folded paper from the instructor. Why had she made agreed to such a ludicrous deal?
There was no way that Greg, of all people, could do better than her. She had been a CSI much longer, and had taken these stupid re-training seminars many more times than her eager counterpart. She'd never live it down if the others at the lab if they heard Greg Sanders had gotten a higher test score than she had.
She glanced at her paper as she reached the table she and Greg were seated at, and with a bright smile, she dropped it in front of her smug counterpart, whispering "Read it and weep."
As she sat down, she noticed Greg's smile flicker a bit before it completely faded away. Snatching the paper from his suddenly limp hands, she tucked it into the blue folder they had been provided with at the start of the seminar.
"We weren't serious about the bet, were we?" Greg asked, his voice wavering slightly, "I mean, you weren't really going to strip for me."
Sara laughed quietly, "You aren't getting out of this that easily, Greggo."
"But, it's only a tenth of a point higher." Greg moaned, "A 99 is just the same as a 98.9."
"Except that it's not." Sara replied, "A bet is a bet, Greg. If the shoe had been on the other foot, you would have made me hold up my end of the bargain."
"Not necessarily." Greg retorted half-heartedly, "Not for a tenth of a point."
Seeing Sara's skeptical look, Greg relented with a heavy sigh, "This is going to be bad, isn't it?"
---
"I can call the entire gang over," Sara offered quietly, draining what was left in her cup as she sat up.
Greg let out a groan, staring at her. "You wouldn't…" When she only continued to smile he shook his head, reaching up to his shoulders with his hands. "Fine…have it your way then."
He couldn't help but shiver as the protective cloth fell away, the cool air brushing against his bare skin. As quick as he did so he grabbed the robe, pulling back over his body. "There," he declared, "you saw."
"Seeing wasn't the only part of the deal," Sara reminded him. "You have to model too."
"Must I?" Greg wondered, adding emphasis onto the question.
"I have one word for you," Sara stated smugly, reaching for the phone. "Speed dial."
"That's two," he griped quietly, ignoring her cold look. With a sigh he finally gave in, "It can't get any worse than this," he whispered.
He stood up this time, taking off the robe completely, hands hanging down by his side as Sara leaned back in the chair. She was grinning, her head resting in one hand. "Turn around slowly," she instructed, tilting her head to one side as Greg complied.
"Lovely" she breathed with a sigh, taking in the sight of his scantily clad body, the brown and beige suede two-piece tightly clinging to his skin. "It goes well with your eyes."
He came to a stop after making the full circle, arms wrapping around his chest. "Are you finished?"
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, chewing on her lower lip. "Something's missing…"
"My clothes maybe?" Greg suggested, shivering as he shifted from one foot to the other. "I am so freezing my ass off here. Does this hotel not believe in heating their rooms?"
"That's it," she snapped her fingers as she moved to her feet. She passed by Greg to the nightstand, where a box of Kleenex was sitting. She pulled up several tissues, turning around to face him with a smile as she flashed the tissues at him.
"You've got to be kidding," he whispered, a slight whine in his voice.
"You need to look the part," she countered, stuffing one handful into the left cup. "It has to be convincing," she added, stuffing a second handful in.
"Sara," he groaned, pulling away. "No one humanly possible can be that big," he hissed, pulling out a handful of his own.
"I watch you stare at women all the time, and you're trying to tell me you've never seen anyone this big before?" Sara asked him, shoving yet another handful in before moving to the right cup.
He shook his head, still holding the wad of tissue in his hand. "Sara…this is just wrong…I agreed to wear this, but you didn't say anything about accessorizing."
"You didn't say anything about not," she shot back, grinning up at him.
---
"What's wrong with cotton?" Greg asked, his hand stopping on a very plain and conservative cotton two piece, "It's traditional."
Sara raised an eyebrow, holding up a skimpy red g-string, "My choice."
"Well I'm not wearing that." Greg huffed, "I couldn't get into that if my life depended on it."
"Sure you could." Sara replied, "We just have to find the right size to fit you."
Greg shook his head vigorously, "Nothing that has a thong. I have valuable goods to protect."
"Valuable goods?" Sara laughed, "Alright, no thongs...but no plain cotton either."
Greg walked to another rack, pulling out yet another conservative piece, "This one's like spandex."
"What are you trying to hide?" Sara teased, "I've already seen all you've got.
It's not like I'm going to post your picture on the internet."
Greg crossed his arms, glaring slightly at the brunette, "How do I know that?"
"I guess you really don't." Sara shrugged, turning away to hide her laughter as she pulled out a mesh black ensemble, "How's this?"
With a flushed face, Greg muttered, "Black really isn't my color."
"They have it in red."
"That's not my color either."
With a delighted laugh, Sara plucked her choice off the shelf, holding it up so
Greg could see the brown and beige cow pattern, "This is it."
"I'm not wearing that."
"Watch it, or I'll opt for the cowboy boots and hat to go with it." Sara warned, unable to keep the smile from her pink cheeks, "It's not like it's hot pink and black. This could be very...manly."
Greg snorted as he snatched the hanger from her hands, "Right, because all men wear a..." he glanced down at the tag..."DD cup!"
"We'll improvise." Sara giggled, "And I think this size will fit you too."
She took the two-piece back from Greg's clammy hands, holding it to his torso and tilting her head slightly to the side, "Yeah, this will fit you just fine."
"You're enjoying this too much."
"It's not that bad." Sara protested, "It's not a thong."
Greg followed her as they made their way towards the checkout counter, "At least it's not a thong..." as she placed it on the counter, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Think I could get one of those toy gun holsters to match the print?"
"Only if you're willing to wear the hat and boots, Greg."
"Never mind, then." Greg retorted, ignoring the curious stare of the cashier as he listened to their banter. "You're just determined to make this as hard as possible, aren't you?"
Sara turned to him with a smile, whispering lightly, "A bet's a bet, Mr. Top Score."
The cashier cleared her throat, catching their attention as she held the material up. "Would you like this in a bag or do you just want to wear it out?"
---
She took a step back, admiring her handiwork. "Not bad…"
He crossed his arms again, scowling as she walked around him. This was beyond humiliation. Sara paused as she rounded him, her finger tapping his chin. "You know…this would look great in the latest edition of Crime Stopper…"
"You wouldn't" he hissed, eyes growing wide.
"Are you willing to take that chance?" Sara mused, rubbing her own chin now.
"Sara…" he groaned, pouting again. "That's not fair…I've lived up to my part of the deal, and I'm freezing!"
"One last thing," she held up a finger, ignoring his soft grumbling protest as she reached her purse that was on the small table. Turning to glance over her shoulder she smiled at him lovingly. "You ready?"
"Do your worst," he griped, frowning still.
With that invitation she pulled out her phone, quickly pressing several buttons as she held up it to him. "Smile!" she cried gleefully, a pure opposition to the horror on his face.
"I can't believe you just did that!" he cried, moving quickly across the room towards her. "Give me that now!"
Sara held it out of his reach, taking a step back, "Don't make me send it to Nick and Warrick."
"You wouldn't dare."
"I think Catherine would have a good laugh too" she laughed, holding it behind her back as he advanced towards her.
Greg quickly lunged towards her, hoping to take her by surprise, but she was quicker and was able to dart out of his way, phone still in hand. "This isn't funny, Sara," he whined quietly, following after her once more. "Now hand it over…"
"On the contrary, I find it hilarious," Sara laughed, waving the phone towards him as she taunted him with sparkling eyes. Her reflexes weren't as quick this time, bogged down by her incessant laughter and he tackled her, dropping the both of them onto the bed.
As Greg twisted the phone from her tight grasp, she panted slightly, "Greg, I can't breathe…your boobs are crushing me," she added with a short giggle, prompting the man to sit up some.
"You shouldn't have thought about that before making them so huge," Greg retorted, deleting the picture from the phone. "I still can't believe you did that."
Sara smiled innocently, watching him, "Just something to remember tonight by."
"Believe me," he grumbled, "this event will be forever, permanently engraved into my mind." Greg replied, tossing the phone to the floor, "Now, just in case you didn't hear me the first two times, I am freezing!"
She smiled, raising an eyebrow as she ran a hand along his bare arm. "Well…there's always a way to fix that…"
"Really?" Greg wondered, wrapping his arms around her lean body as she nuzzled against his neck. He closed his eyes, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. "By the way," he whispered, running a hand through her hair, "No one hears about this…no one…"
"Our little secret," Sara agreed quietly, reaching up to kiss him. "By the way, we have an anthropology convention coming up…"
"No," Greg shook his head, lying back on the bed.
"I didn't even ask…"
"No," he cut her off again, "No bets."
She kissed him, laughing as she pulled away. "You wanna bet?"
The End