DISCLAIMER : I wish I did, but obviously I don't own CSI nor the characters. They all belong to CBS, respectfully. Although, I'd snatch up a certain actor in a heartbeat, if I could. But for now, I give you this.

A/N - Taken from a rp-ing site a good friend and I started up a while back. A little lab banter between our chosen characters, Greg Sanders and David Hodges. If interested in partaking in a little rp-ing fun, just let me know. I'll send you the site to check out!

Greg solemnly walked into the trace lab of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, and after taking one look at the snarky David Hodges, he already knew he could expect trouble. The trace tech was sitting in his seat, enthralled by some notsoimportant looking document, apparently making an extra effort to ignore the young man. The said CSI let out a sigh! It was the day after New Year's and Greg's first day at work in two days, he was in no mood for the tech's nasty attitude.

Greg decided to wait a few seconds before loudly clearing his throat, then waited for a response from his adversary.

The trace tech, blatantly ignored the young man for several more seconds, before looking up at the CSI with great annoyance. "Do you mind, Sanders? You're kind of interrupting!" He pointed down at the magazine he was thumbing through.

David was about to return to his previous task, when he stopped to observe the man standing on the opposite side of the table. Hodges patented smirk crept to the corners of his mouth as he continued to study the CSI. "You look like crap, Sanders! Are you getting enough sleep?" He commented with amusement and mock-concern.

Greg let out a small groan and rolled his eyes. He didn't want to admit he drunk himself sick on New Year's eve (and well into New Year's day) and still hadn't completely gotten over the hangover.

Showing little interest in what the tech could have been doing before he entered, Greg looked at the evidence table expectantly before finally speaking. "I'm kind of on a case, Hodges, did you process the evidence sent to you or have you just been sitting around being useless all day?"

Greg and the snarky trace tech had a history of butting heads in the past, partaking in a few altercations, and he was a fool to think this meeting would be much different than any other. David Hodges knew just how to get under his skin.

"Well aren't we just a walking comedy act today." The trace tech piped up dryly, hardly changing his expression, as he reached for the folder which contained the results the young CSI was looking for.

He sat the closed folder neatly in front of him as he peered at Greg with inquisitive eyes. "You're still hung-over aren't you Sanders?" The smirk on Hodges face grew wider as he began his own personal interrogation on the young man. "Tsk tsk Greggo!" He mocked. "When. Will. You. Learn!" He slid the folder across the table toward Greg, looking at him, then the folder, then back to Greg.

"You're vic was a saucy one." He chuckled to himself. "Was it a domestic altercation gone wrong? A fight over who got the last turkey leg? Personally, I'm a breast kinda guy."

David adjusted himself in his seat before continuing. "..And unlike Wendy's predecessor," eying and referring to the young man across from him with raised brows, "I actually do some work. All you look like you're capable of doing at this moment is hug the toilet bowl in the mens washroom. Very sanitary, I must say!" David took a breath and shuddered lightly as he continued. "How disappointed Grissom would be if he only knew one of his CSI's were still under the influence."

Greg made a rather rotten face at his colleague's interrogation, but decided it would be too much effort, tonight, to argue. Though, he was a bit ticked at Hodges' conceited manner, almost patronizing him for having a good time for once. He knew his limits, and yes, he was a little sick tonight, but he had his head on straight. He was about to throw caution to the wind and tell the trace tech so, before he whipped out the results he was looking for.

He listened to David's little analysis before replying, rather smugly, "Of course, breasts" remembering what Sara had told him of Hodges' seemingly accidental comment about Wendy's breasts a little while back. It seemed only fitting that he mentioned the new DNA tech only a few seconds later. Despite what Hodges said about his lack of work ethic, Greg found himself smiling. His mood had risen quite a bit with the realization of a chance to pick on the lab rat.

Disregarding Hodges' comment almost entirely, he picked one word out of his little schpeal and went with it. "Wendy, huh? Just out of curiosity, have you been paying much attention to her breasts lately, slick?"

The smirk that was once present on the face of the trace tech was quickly replaced with, well, David really didn't know nor did he want to know. He'd been hit with a low blow from the young punk, Greg Sanders, and for once, struggled, trying to find something, anything to retort in his defense without looking like a complete idiot.

It was quite apparent that he wasn't going to be able to live down the slip of the tongue on his part. Not while working with a bunch of imbeciles, who seemed to have nothing else better to do than continuously force that particular "incident" in his face. And who was Greg to even attempt to make a dig at him anyway? He wasn't even there. He didn't know both sides of the story. Like he'd ever believe the trace tech over his secret love obsession, Sara Sidle, anyway.

He quickly caught himself accidentally glancing over toward the DNA lab, just across the hall, and tried to right his actions, by reaching for a pair of gloves that sat in the box in the same general direction.

"Um.. the substance is a mixture of a glaze and.." Hodges stopped when he noticed Greg still looking at him with a stupid grin on his face.


Greg watched the expressions on Hodges' face change with amusement. The tables had obviously turned, as the young man went from the one being teased to the teaser. He actually had to stifle a laugh when he caught David glancing over at the DNA lab. How could he blame him, though? Wendy was a good looking gal, after all. Greg gave him the benefit of the doubt, and pretended not to notice his little divert of attention, though he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

He giggled inwardly as the normally snarky and wellputtogether tech sound so uncomfortable when inquiring what Greg was still smiling about.

"Oh, nothing." he shrugged, "I just find the mixture of glaze and, what is it cornstarch amusing" he finished, leaning over to read the rest of the analysis. "It certainly has nothing to do with you and your little infatuation if that's what you were wondering." He smiled sarcastically in the older mans direction.

David Hodges suddenly did feel uncomfortable in his own sanctuary, within the lab, and who did he have to thank for that? Of all people, Greg Sanders! Just the mere thoughts of it, ate away at his very core, sickening him to know that a, still hung-over Greg Sanders, managed to get the better of the trace tech.

"I refuse to accept any acquisitions toward me having any sort of infatuation toward anyone in this lab, especially.. Wendy! You apparently seem to be delusional. Definitely a side effect of the alcohol from your little New Years shindig." David huffed, wishing Greg would just leave him to his new found misery.

Greg couldn't help laughing out loud at this. Of all the things that could cheer him up, getting the better of Hodges was definitely high on his list. He backed off and innocently put his hands in the air, "Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Hodges. But if you say there's no infatuation, you better stop leaving clues that say otherwise. I think you're forgetting you work with a bunch of investigators" he finished with emphasis, taking his results as he did so. Not wanting to aggravate Hodges too bad, because he knows how cases can "accidentally" slip to the bottom of the pile if any tech so decided, he figured he'd better make an exit soon. Turning toward the door, he half waited for a response from Hodges.

David huffed once again in Greg's direction, unimpressed. "You of all people should know the consequences of your actions while in the presence of one of us lab techs!" David muttered, just barely loud enough for Greg to hear. "It wasn't to long ago, that you too, were sitting behind one of these tables."

David motioned toward the next folder, balancing on the corner of his table, talking to himself. A habit often done, when frustrated. "..And there's no clues to investigate..because there are no infatuations. None!"

Greg listened to his grumbles halfheartedly, before chuckling himself through the door. He did have work to do, after all, and not all of it had to do with the Trace lab. Down the hall a ways, he sneaked a look back at Hodges, who was still sitting there apparently talking to himself. Greg simply rolled his eyes before he drew his attention back to the results he had gotten and the meaning they might have to his case.

The End