Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon, CSI to Anthony Zuiker (I think.) I just like to play in their sandboxes now and then.
Greg was about to start the latest batch of DNA tests waiting for his attention when he noticed the blonde walk by. He had no idea who she was, but he was more than willing to find out. Someone had to make sure she wasn’t an intruder, right?
“Excuse me, Miss…?”
She turned to face him, and smiled. Greg fought the urge to make sure he hadn’t accidentally left his fly unbuttoned or gotten Sharpie on his face.
"You must be Greg,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m Buffy. Catherine says you’re the one who broke the news that she was my sister to her?”
That was when his overloaded brain made the connection.
"You’re Buffy Summers
? Oh, wow! I didn’t know you were still in town. I thought Catherine said you’d gone back to LA.”
“Only to wrap things up and pack. Dawn and I moved here. Closing on the new house was yesterday, and our stuff should be arriving tomorrow, which hopefully gives me time to find some furniture today.”
"Did you sell all your old furniture?” Greg asked, curious. She looked put together enough to have already gotten rid of crappy college apartment stuff.
She shook her head.“Sadly, no. We lost it all when it joined the rest of the house in Sunnydale Crater. Packing for this move was pretty easy.”
Greg could have smacked himself. Way to go, Sanders.
"Don’t worry,” Buffy said kindly. “It’s been long enough that we’re pretty much used to the idea by now. It comes up now and again. It’s not like ‘Sunnydale survivor’ is tattooed on anyone’s forehead.”
“Still, it must suck to be reminded of it,” Greg said miserably.
Buffy shrugged.“It’s not so bad. And it’s not the furniture that was upsetting, really. It was the photos. You know we only have one picture left of my mother? And none at all of Anya or Jenny. You never stop to think how irreplaceable little things like that are until they’re gone.”
"I’ll definitely be backing up my photos when I get home,” Greg replied. “What brings you down to the lab?”
"I was looking for Catherine, actually. I wanted to return her keys- she let me borrow the SUV so I could do the mother of all grocery runs.”
“Catherine’s out on a call, but if you want, I can show you where her locker is- if those are her SUV keys, there should be a key to her locker on that ring too.”
“That would be great,” Buffy grinned. Greg took her to the changing room, watched her unlock Catherine’s locker, put the keys inside, and lock it back up, and then walked her back up to the front desk.
"It was nice to meet you, Greg, and thanks! I wasn’t looking forward to having to come back to pick Catherine up at the end of her shift if I couldn’t leave the keys for her. “
"No problem,” Greg said. “Stop back whenever.”
"Oh, don’t worry, we will,” Buffy told him. “And we’ll probably come bearing food when we do.”
Now it was Greg’s turn to grin. Catherine had already brought leftovers more than once from dinner with her sisters. Whether they cooked it themselves or not, the results were invariably awesome.
“See you later, Greg. Oh, hi, CSI Stokes! Looks like you’re having an interesting evening.”
Buffy’s nose wrinkled at the sight- or possibly smell- of Nick, who had clearly had to go dumpster diving for his latest case. Nick looked totally bemused by her presence, and looked enquiringly at Greg.
"Well, I’ll leave you guys to it. Thanks again, Greg.”
She waved and vanished through the doors. Greg watched her go with a grin that faded quickly when he looked back to find Nick staring at him.
“If I’m CSI Stokes, how did you get to be Greg?”
"That’s how Catherine mentioned her to me?” Greg suggested nervously. He wasn’t used to him getting more attention from girls than Nick any more than Nick was.
“Also, it may not have helped that you appear to be wearing several days' worth of restaurant trash…”