Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. They're all property of Alliance Atlantis, CBS Paramount and Anthony Zuiker.

Thanks for all the reviews. I certainly got way more feedback than I expected on my last author's note about the direction of the show. It was great to hear from everyone and to know that I'm not alone.

JUST SAY 'NO' TO PLAGIARISM!

Sitting on the bench in front of his locker, Greg was jamming out to the latest tunes on his iPod while playing a game on his cell phone when Nick strolled into the locker room whistling a tune.

"Yo, Greg," Nick greeted him. "How was your night off?" he asked as he opened his locker.

Not getting any response, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Greg just grinning away and bobbing his head. Turning back to his locker, Nick just shook his head. Greg looked like some crazed bobble head although it was good to see Greg's spirits up lately, almost reminiscent of his old lab rat days.

Grabbing his hiking boots from the bottom of his locker, he plopped down on the bench beside Greg startling the younger CSI.

With a sheepish grin, Greg reached up and yanked his ear buds out before apologizing, "Oh, hey, Nick. Didn't see you come in."

"I noticed," Nick replied as he toed his loafers off. "So what'd you do on your night off?"

"Nothing special. Grabbed a bite. Hung out at Shun for a while. Pretty much it," Greg reported with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders.

"Shun," Nick repeated as he tried to associate the name with the place. "Isn't that the new techno dance club out on the south end of the Strip?"

"That'd be the one. Ever been?"

"Nah. I like to still be able to hear myself think at the end of the night." He picked up his loafers and tossed them back into his locker. Something about the name 'Shun' was bugging him though, like he should know that place. Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Say, isn't that where you've been hanging out for your last several nights off?"

Greg just gave him a big grin before turning his attention back to his cell phone game.

Nick had his suspicions and they all had to do with the opposite sex. Greg only grinned like that when a woman was involved. He'd seen plenty of it when Sara had been around.

"Alright, Greggo. Spill it."

"Spill what?" asked Greg with a barely suppressed chuckle.

"What's her name, how old is she and what's she look like?"

Greg just shook his head trying to straighten his lips but they refused to cooperate. So he buried his face back in his game.

"You know I'll get it out of you eventually," Nick threatened as he shoved a foot into a hiking boot.

Greg's grin only broadened.

"Come on, Greg," Nick cajoled. "Didn't I tell you about my date with that flight attendant the other day?"

"Well," Greg drawled, "let's just say they have some fi-i-ne DJs there."

"Oh, really?" Nick's eyebrow rose in speculation.

Glancing around to check that they were alone, Greg leaned in towards Nick. He whispered conspiratorially, "Her stage name is Mickey. Her real name is Tamara. She lets me call her Tammie. She doesn't let just anyone do that. Long, wavy brown hair. Green eyes. About 5'8"." As he ran his hands through the air in an hourglass shape, he finished with, "A fine, fine figure." Straightening back up, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyways, she DJs Monday, Tuesday and Thursday nights and the occasional Saturday evening."

Standing up, he hooked his cell phone back onto his belt then put his iPod in his locker and slammed it shut. "Well, guess I better find Catherine and get my assignment for the evening." Finally noticing that Nick was lacing up his hiking boots, he asked him, "What are you up to?"

"DB out at Red Rock. I'm with Langston tonight," Nick replied. "Think you've got a leaper with Riley."

"Alright," Greg said heading for the door.

"Oh, hey, Greg," Nick called out just before Greg disappeared through the door.

"Yeah?"

"You'll want to check out the bulletin board. We got another postcard from Sara yesterday."

"Cool," he exclaimed and left making that his top priority. After all, a dead leaper could always wait. News from Sara couldn't.

Coming to a halt in front of the employee announcement bulletin board, he quickly scanned it for the latest addition. There, in the upper left hand corner was an area that was slowly becoming dedicated to the postcards of the lab's two former workaholics. Joining the picture of the rainforest and the poisonous dart frog was a picture of a sea turtle resting on a black-colored boulder. The bold block letters along the bottom proclaimed 'Galapagos Islands.'

"Hmm, Galapagos," he muttered to himself. "Wonder what happened to Costa Rica?"

Taking the postcard down, he flipped the card over and read.

Hello once again from south of the equator although from a different location this time. We left the research station in Costa Rica mid-August just in time to spend Gil's birthday in Buenos Aires. We're now spending a couple weeks in Puerto Ayora in the Galapagos. It really is a fascinating place – so many unique and colorful creatures that are found nowhere else in the world. Next, we're off to China. An opportunity came up for Gil to study some Chinese beetle that is having an effect on the pandas' food sources. Him and his bugs! I haven't decided yet what I'll be doing. There is an organization dedicated to rescuing pandas that has set up shop at the same research station so I might check that out. Check your e-mail. Both of us have been trying to catch up and sending pics. I'm out of space so I'll write later from China. Miss you all. Sara

A wistful sigh escaped Greg's lips. "Miss you, too, Sara," he whispered forlornly.

"That sounded a little sad."

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Riley standing there with her kit in one hand and an assignment slip in the other.

"Just reading Sara's latest postcard."

Tilting her head to the side, she studied him for a moment before saying, "You really miss her."

"Yeah, yeah, I do." He stood there silently just staring at Sara's familiar scrawl. It had been almost a year since he had last seen her and even longer since he worked with her. Still there was a hollow ache in his heart every time he realized that she really wasn't in Vegas anymore.

He sighed deeply before explaining, "She was – is – one of my closest friends as well as my mentor. Well, both she and Grissom were my mentors. Anyways, after I failed my first proficiency test, she kind of took me under her wing and really helped me out. Not that we weren't friends before. But that was about the time that Ecklie broke the team up. Since there was only Grissom, Sara, Sophia and I on our team anymore, Sara and I worked together a lot. Sara and Sophia didn't really get along very well, so Grissom didn't have them work together too often."

Riley studied him a little longer when suddenly her eyes widened in realization. "You were crushing on her."

"What?!" Greg's head jerked up in surprise before he quickly tried to cover his surprise by tacking the postcard back up on the board.

"You were crushing on Sara," Riley teased.

"Was not!" he protested. Turning around, he grabbed the assignment slip out of Riley's hand. "I heard we're together tonight."

"We are and don't change the subject."

"I'm not. There's nothing to talk about. So let's go."

He started walking down the hall with Riley on his heels.

"You were," she stated.

"What?" He scowled starting to get a little annoyed.

"Crushing on her. You were."

"Was not."

"Were, too."

"Was not."

"Were, too."

Seeing he wasn't getting anywhere, he finally conceded with "Well, maybe, but just a little." He pinched his thumb and forefinger together leaving just a little space between them to indicate just how much.

Riley rolled her eyes but Greg just continued, "But that was a long time ago. Now come on. A dead body isn't going to process itself."

TBC