lvpd_sidle | Las Vegas: September 10, 2006

Current Location: Las Vegas Crime Lab
Current Music: The Who, "Who Are You?"

Entry tags:

Las Vegas: September 10, 2006

It might be September, but there is little danger of getting cold in Las Vegas.

The city never sleeps, and neither do the various branches of law enforcement.

The lab is busy when Sara and Mark walk in through the door--Swing shift is leaving and Night shift is about to begin.

Music is playing, an old song by The Who. The atmosphere isn't tense, indicating that there are no pressing cases.

Just another night in Vegas.

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Well, hell, the man's not only a bug expert, he's a mind reader. Mark chuckles to himself, then smiles a bit ruefully as Sara walks in the door. "No, er, I haven't been called into service yet. As a dead body, or as a bug."

"It'd be difficult for him to use you as a bug--"

"--there are adjustments that could be made--"

"--that wasn't an invitation for you to try, Griss." They grin at each other, then Sara turns back to Mark. "I was going to go down to the DNA lab--wanna come?"

"Crap. That'll teach me not to open my mouth." Mark grins, though. "I have to say, Kyle's dressed me up as a lot of things, but not a bug. It would be a new experience." He turns to Sara, though, and smiles. "Sure. I'll come with you."

And they start down the hall once again before another technician interrupts, needing her help.

While Sara's busy with that, Warrick taps him on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you?"

Mark was, for a moment, caught up in watching Sara work with the tech, so he starts slightly at Warrick's tap. "Oh, er, sure. You're Warrick, right?" He smiles, flailing slightly. Give the boy credit for trying.

"Yeah, I'm Warrick Brown." He smiles, friendly enough, but his eyes are assessing.

"It's kind of a funny thing--Sara originally came here to investigate me. I hated her for that, and for the fact that Grissom asked her to stay. Add in that she was so damned good at the job and I didn't think I'd ever be able to work with her."

Here he pauses, studying Mark again. "I've never been so glad to be wrong about someone."

"She's damn good at what she does. I haven't exactly seen her completely in action before, but I can just tell. It's just who she is." Mark's tone is simple, but there's a distinct hint of his love of Sara in his words.

Warrick nods. "She's one of the best and I'm glad she came back after Ecklie got his head out of his ass. Of course, hearing him grovel in front of us didn't hurt." He chuckles.

"I met Barry when she brought him through here. Good man. But he didn't make her smile like you do. Just...keep her smiling."

Mark coughs, looking around a bit furtively. "I hope for everyone's sake, I don't see him just yet. I, er, have a couple words for him. Most of which I'll contain." Barely. His expression softens, though, turning thoughtful. "I certainly plan to keep doing just that as long as she'll have me."

"Glad to hear that. Girls like her don't grow on trees as my grandmother would say." Warrick grins. "Anyway--thanks for humoring me. We all try to look out for each other."

"Now that you've finished interrogating my boyfriend, mind if we go on to DNA?" Sara says politely, causing Warrick to jump.

Mark grins right back. "Oh, my roommate's already given her the riot act. Or just the stern cross-armed glare. It happens. I'm just glad that she's being looked out for." Sure, his grammar needs help. Oh, well. The sentiment's still there. He turns to Sara and chuckles. "Nah. He's nicer than Roger was to you. It's cool." Clearly, he's in a good mood.

"That was Roger being rude? From what Angel said, I figured that was his normal behavior," she says dryly. "Later, Warrick."

Taking the hint, Warrick makes himself busy elsewhere and Sara takes Mark to the DNA lab. "It's not that busy tonight so Mia should be able to--shit."

She stiffens slightly. "I'd hoped we could avoid him tonight."

"Mia should be able to shit?" Mark blinks, his mind was totally elsewhere, and didn't see the reason for the curse until he literally bumped into him. "Oof. Oh, er, sorry."

Eying him a bit, Ecklie turns his attention to Sara. "Miss Sidle, you really need to learn to control your guests to the lab. We can't have people running around and crashing into everything. This is a crime lab, not a tourist attraction."

"Considering that he has yet to crash into anything or interrupt anything pertinent, I believe there is little cause for concern," she says levelly.

"There is always cause for concern, Miss Sidle. You should know that by now." He looks at her with an expression that most people would call a glare. "This might be Vegas, but it's not a brothel, Sidle. Keep that in mind."

Mark bites his lip, clinging to his bag strap until his knuckles go white. He keeps his mouth shut, however, for fear of swearing at the idiot in front of him.

She only raises an eyebrow, refusing to let him goad her. "This isn't a brothel? Good to know--I'll be sure to let all of my disappointed friends know about the mix-up. If you will excuse us," she neatly ducks around him and into the lab, Mark following after her.

Only when he is out of earshot does she sigh. "Jackass."

Mark mutters a few choice words in Yiddish under his breath, shaking his head. "People wonder why I hate the mainstream and the Establishment. That man is a prime example of it. Bastard."

"Asskissers like him are a dime a dozen," Mia, the DNA tech mutters, bending over some samples. "Unfortunately, he hasn't done anything that'd get him fired."

"Believe it or not, that wasn't as bad as it could have been," Sara says darkly. "He's not someone I miss when I go home after shift."

"Don't let him drive you out, Sara. We like you."

"Thanks, Mia. What've you got there?"

Mark cracks a smile, shaking his head. "He wouldn't last two minutes in New York. We'd have his ass handed to him on a platter before he could open his mouth." And really, Adam would probably kick his ass to the curb before he had a chance to even get on anyone's nerves. Shaking his head, he goes back to his tried-and-true method of leaning against the wall, and watches Sara work.

Mia and Sara descend in to rapid lab-speak for ten minutes, conjectures and theories flying between them before Sara gets an odd look in her eyes. "Did you check the--"

"Yes...I saw the same thing..."

"Son of a bitch. Thanks." She takes the printouts and rushes from the lab, telling Mark to follow.

CSI on a hot trail. Look out.

Most of it goes over Mark's head, but he thinks he caught a phrase or a word here and there that he actually understands. In a way, he's seeing what some people feel like when he starts babbling at them about film. Whoops. Waving at Mia, he sets off after Sara, curious and amused. Well, he's certainly getting his excersise today.

"Grissom," Sara calls ahead of her, seeing him in ballistics. "I think we have something--a serial."

And the lab-speak begins again.

Poor Mark.

Er, right. Mark almost wishes he'd brought along one of Jon's new scripts, but that would be rude. He leans against the wall yet again, watching everything. Hell, he's used to this. When Roger gets babbling about chords and chord progressions, he's practically unstoppable. What he does do, though, is watch carefully how everyone goes about their business, and how they interact with each other. It could be useful sometime.

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