DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By Kristina K


I can feel Sara lean into me for the third time in the last ten minutes as we're sitting next to each other in the break room, slowly and silently sipping on our coffees. She leans in, just a tiny bit – thinks I don't notice it – slightly tilts her head, ponders something and then sits back. I sit, stone cold and pretend like there's nothing wrong.

I frown. Is there something wrong?

When she does it again, I clench my jaw and steadily place my coffee cup onto the table next to me, ready to snap at her to stop it. Instead, she beats me to it and simply states, throwing me off a little with her observation:

"You're wearing perfume." A beat. "That's new." Another beat, longer. "Expensive."

I roll my eyes, but don't look at her. She doesn't look at me either. We just sit next to each other, staring ahead.

"Is it someone special…" She trails off with a shrug, making me turn to look at her for the first time.


"The person you're wearing the perfume for."

"What makes you think I'm wearing it for someone?"

"Because," she twirls the spoon in her cup and it makes the liquid inside into a little whirlpool, "You don't usually wear one. It's just fabric softener…" she notices the expression on my face and realizes what she's saying, making herself finish the sentence with her voice just barely over a whisper, "and soap."

I find her slightly blushed cheeks very amusing, "How interesting that you've noticed that."

"It's my job," she defends herself, "noticing things."

I smirk, looking away from her again, "And it's my job to detect when people are lying."

"I'm just saying." She tries another save, but I don't buy it.

"Do you make it your habit noticing stuff like that about your colleagues?"

This time she's more careful with her reply and says, "When I'm bored." I nod my head idly. "It's a slow night."

Nick walks into the break room, making a crack about Hodges and the perfect order he keeps his chemicals in, from right to left, labels immaculately aligned, and how he threw a fit when he and Greg rearranged everything, just to mess with the poor guy. Sara smiled coyly, secretly wishing she thought of the prank first, and I gave him a mock cold stare.

"I'd shoot you in the foot if you messed up my things." I stated flatly.

"I'm sure you would, lady." He chuckled. "That's why whenever Greg and I go through your things, we make sure we put them back all nicely."

She smiles again, this time letting out a little chuckle as well, and I find myself glancing at her one more time, completely ignoring Nick and not noticing when he excuses himself and leaves.

When we are left alone again, she raises her eyes up again and meets mine.

"So, what's his name?"

"There is no him." I answer. "I'm just… trying out a new thing."

She nods her head, "Yeah. It's nice. It's suits you."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "You think?"

"Sure. First Velvet. It fits you, perfectly." I'm pleased by the fact that she guessed which fragrance it is.

After another few minutes of silence, her persistent stirring of coffee and the clank of the spoon hitting the side of the cup, Sara speaks out again:

"It's my favorite perfume, actually."

I smirk for myself, bringing the cup of already chilled coffee to my lips and before I take one more sip I say, "I know."

The End

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