“Greg,” Sara said, cocking her head to the side and squinting. “You’ve got sparkles all over your face.”
“My face, my neck, my chest, my back, my stomach,” he listed. “I can’t get the fucking things off.”
“Where did they come from?” Sara asked with a grin.
“A shirt I was wearing.”
Sara shook her head. She’d never understand Greg’s wardrobe, and she’d stopped trying years ago.
“Just be careful not to contaminate the scene.”
Greg rolled his eyes at her and snapped a shot of the kitchen they were standing in. Sara moved about the room slowly, thoroughly examining every piece of evidence. As David left with the body, Nick walked into the room, kit in hand.
He greeted Sara and Greg, though Sara noticed that he didn’t meet Greg’s eyes and she was upset with him. He and Warrick had been treating Greg like a frat pledge, and while he was technically a rookie, he’d been part of the team for a long time. Sara had been doing her best to act as a teacher to him, and she thought she’d better have a little talk with the boys.
“Shit,” Nick cursed quietly. “I don’t have any gloves. Spare some, Sar?”
Sara handed him a pair of gloves, seeing something glint on his hand as he reached out. She looked at his face and saw that it was dusted with sparkles, as well as his neck and what she could see of his chest peeking out of the Oxford he was wearing.
“Nick, you’ve got sparkles all over you,” she said, the pieces fitting together in her mind. She glanced at Greg, who looked a little panicked.
“Uh yeah,” Nick said, blushing. “Hot date. Can’t get the damn things off.”
“That seems to be going around,” Sara said with a mixture of shock and amusement. Nick’s head snapped up and he looked at Greg. When he looked at Sara, his expression nearly broke her heart. She wondered if this was what he looked like the first time he had a gun drawn on him, because she wasn’t sure if he could look more frightened. Sara looked between the two of them and finally grinned.
“I’m glad someone’s getting some,” she said.
Greg smirked and resumed his picture taking, but Nick stared at Sara with a wary expression.
“Sara, you won’t…”
“I won’t say anything, Nick,” she assured him. “But you and Warrick had better stop treating him like a grunt.”
Nick grinned and nodded. “I can’t speak for Warrick.”
“I’ll work on him,” she said, and when Nick cocked his eyebrow, it was Sara’s turn to blush.
“No,” she threw over her shoulder as she left the room, following the body to the morgue. Not yet.