16 - Morgan Brody/ Sara Sidle- Csi

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by Ameliashepherdwife

by Ameliashepherdwife

The Las Vegas Crime Lab was buzzing with activity—the hum of fluorescent lights, the clatter of evidence bags, and the occasional heated argument between techs. Morgan Brody, the night shift CSI, sat at her desk, exhaustion etched on her face. She'd been chasing leads all night, trying to crack a baffling case involving counterfeit casino chips.

Sara Sidle, the seasoned investigator, approached Morgan. Her eyes held a mix of sympathy and camaraderie. "Long night, huh?"

Morgan nodded, rubbing her temples. "Yeah. I feel like I've been chasing my tail."

Sara leaned against the desk. "You know what always helps me unwind?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Sara grinned. "Bad singing."

Morgan blinked. "Bad singing?"

Sara nodded. "Trust me. When the world feels heavy, just belt out an old song—doesn't matter if you're off-key. It's therapeutic."

Morgan chuckled. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious." Sara scanned the room, then lowered her voice. "Come on, let's find a quiet spot."

They slipped into the break room, its flickering fluorescent light casting shadows on the linoleum floor. Sara perched on a stool, and Morgan hesitated.

"What song?" Morgan asked.

Sara thought for a moment. "How about 'Sweet Caroline'?"

Morgan wrinkled her nose. "Isn't that a cheesy karaoke favorite?"

"Exactly," Sara said. "And it's impossible to sing badly. You'll see."

And so, in that dimly lit break room, Morgan and Sara began to sing. Their voices clashed, hitting all the wrong notes, but they didn't care. They sang about good times never seeming so good, their laughter echoing off the walls.

"Sweet Caroline," Sara crooned, her pitch wobbly.

Morgan joined in, her voice equally disastrous. "Bum, bum, bum!"

They swayed, their harmonies a delightful mess. The weight of the case faded as they sang, their camaraderie turning into something more—a shared secret.

"Okay," Morgan said, wiping away tears of laughter, "this is ridiculous."

Sara grinned. "But it works, right?"

Morgan nodded. "Yeah. It does."

As they sang more old tunes—off-key renditions of "Livin' on a Prayer" and "Don't Stop Believin'"—Morgan felt lighter. Sara's presence was a balm for her weary soul.

"You know," Sara said, "we're not just colleagues."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What are we, then?"

Sara leaned closer. "Friends. Partners. Maybe even more."

And then, in that break room, surrounded by bad singing and the scent of stale coffee, Morgan and Sara shared their first kiss. It was sweet, unexpected, and perfectly imperfect.

When they pulled apart, Morgan whispered, "Wow."

Sara grinned. "Yeah. Wow."