The Sticky Situation

Chapter 1

Sara swore softly, clutching the top shelf of the closet and swaying precariously on an old stepladder. "Greg? Can you, uh."

He looked up from the doorknob he'd been printing. "You need a spotter?"

"Please."

They were almost done with the sweep of Roger Burrow's chemistry lab, and with nothing to show for it. Whatever volatile chemicals he'd used to kill his victims, they weren't here.

Instead, they were faced with all sorts of strange concoctions. There was the liquid that turned a glass specimen jar purple, the lumpy powder that made Detective Johnson's ears itch, and even a goo that disappeared completely when they exposed it to air. Roger Burrow was a mad scientist, all right.

The closet was Sara's last attempt at finding the mysterious chemical compound. There were several unmarked cans on the top shelf, and if she stood on the tips of her toes, she could just reach them.

Greg stepped behind her, resting his hands on her hips. "Better?"

"Yeah," she grunted, using her newfound balance to grab a can. "Put this on the floor for me?"

"Sure."

One by one, they moved the cans onto the floor. The last can was near the back of the closet, and she knew Greg could reach it if he were to stand on the stepladder instead. But hey, his hands were steadying her, and what could really-

"Shit!" She stumbled as she grabbed the last can, her legs buckling on the rickety ladder. The lid opened, drenching them in a thin layer of goo.

"It's okay, I've got you," Greg assured her, his hands slipping under her tank top to hold her waist in a tight grip. He lowered her to the floor slowly. "You all right?"

"Just irritated with myself," she sighed. "You can let go of me now."

His hands stayed put. "Um..."

"Greg, you can let go."

"Actually, I can't."

Praying that this wasn't a misguided flirtation technique on Greg's part, Sara spun around to look at him. And he spun right around with her. "Greg, what the-"

"We're stuck."

"We're..."

"Stuck." He pulled on his right hand for effect.

"Ow!" she gasped, her hand reaching for her waist.

"Don't! The glue might still be tacky."

"Glue? What kind of glue sets this fast?"

"What sort of powder makes a guy's ears itch?" Greg retorted. "We're obviously dealing with some new inventions here."

"Okay." She closed her eyes and counted to five. "Okay. We'll just get our hands on some acetone-"

"You'll have to get your hands on it, mine are kind of occupied at the moment."

"Right. Let's go back to the lab, they'll have what we need."

Sara stepped forward, inwardly groaning as Greg duck-walked behind her. Stumbling awkwardly toward the car, they stopped suddenly as the same thought occurred to both of them.

"You're going to have to sit on my lap," he said, his eyes widening.

She shook her head. "No way."

"How else are you going to drive? You want me to drive, with my hands stuck to your waist?"

"Tell you what, Greg. If you can guarantee me that nothing will... suddenly come up while I'm in your lap, then I'll do it."

He was quiet for a moment, then muttered, "Right. I'll ask Detective Vega if we can catch a ride with him."

They ended up half-sitting, half-kneeling in the backseat of Vega's cruiser. The car ride was dead silent, save for the faint snuffling laughter that Vega let out every time he checked his rear-view mirror.

She'd never been quite so relieved that Grissom had a day off, as she and Greg tromped their way through the lab. Techs stopped and stared, whispering wildly once the odd pair had passed.

Finally they made it to Trace, where Hodges was waiting with a smirk. "I hear you're in need of some acetone."

Sara nodded, forcing herself to smile sweetly. "Can you help us?"

He waited a beat, then chuckled magnanimously. "Sure." Picking up a spray bottle, he instructed them to hold still as he spritzed Greg's hands with the acetone. "Huh."

"Huh?"

"It's not working." He tugged on one of Greg's hands to demonstrate. "Must need something stronger."

Greg groaned. "Methylene chloride?"

"We can try nitromethane first. Except..."

"Except what?"

"This is an unknown compound, right?" Hodges scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Acetone should at least make a dent in an acrylic-based resin. This hasn't."

Sara nodded in defeat. "Yeah. We've got to talk to Roger Burrow."

o-o-o-o-o

The mad scientist was being held downtown, so Hodges offered to drive them to the police station. "What?" he asked defensively when Sara and Greg eyed him with open suspicion. "I'm just curious about the guy. Maybe he'll give away some of his secrets. I'm an amateur inventor too, you know."

They hadn't known, but during the car ride Hodges was happy to regale them with his various earth-shattering inventions, including an automatic toupee groomer.

Not that he needed one, of course.

Burrow was waiting in an interrogation room, his chained hands folded neatly in his lap. He watched with amusement as Sara and Greg walked in. "Well, well. What's all this?"

"What does it look like?" Greg returned. "We found your superglue."

"And decided to pour it on yourselves?" Burrow's grin widened. "You two seem to have an unhealthy... attachment."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Look, we just need to know how to get unstuck, and then we'll be on our way."

"Gosh, you mean acetone doesn't work?"

"You know it doesn't."

"True," he grinned. "That's the mark of a great glue inventor. Not only did I invent the strongest and fastest superglue, but I ensured that people will have to buy one of my other inventions in order to dissolve the first."

"Another invention. meaning it's somewhere in your laboratory?" Greg asked.

"The ingredients are. You'll find a tube of gel labeled X-117, a powder labeled PR-12, and a can of liquid labeled C-214. All you have to do is combine them in equal parts and agitate."

"Great." Sara nodded decisively, turning for the door.

"And then wait thirty-six hours," Burrow added.

She froze. "I'm sorry, what?"

"That's the length of time it takes for the chemicals to react. Let the mixture sit in a cool, dark place for a day and a half, and it'll be ready."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Greg asked, his eyes narrowing.

Burrow grinned. "Hey, at this point, it's in my best interest to help you. You don't have any proof that I killed anyone, and if I told you the wrong solution, you'd be able to charge me with something. I'd prefer to keep my stay here as short as possible."

They exited the interrogation room slowly, processing the news.

"This is a nightmare," Greg muttered. "How are we supposed to get home? Or shower? My god, Sara, how am I going to pee?"

"Sitting down, I guess," she replied, trying desperately not to laugh.

"But my hands are stuck to you," he protested. "Who's going to unzip my fly and. arrange things down there?"

Covering her mouth with her hand, she laughed harder.

"Oh my god, what if I have to-"

"No," she said quickly, wiping her eyes. "That is not an option."

"It's a biological imperative!"

"We'll just make sure you don't eat any fiber in the next day or so." She started giggling again.

"Laugh all you want, but what about when you have to go? Where exactly do you expect me to look?"

That did the trick, as Sara's laughter abruptly subsided.

"Should we go to your apartment?" he asked.

"Why mine?"

"Mine's kind of a pigsty at the moment. Plus I've got a twin bed."

She sighed, her expression growing cloudy. "I don't know."

"I was just kidding about watching you pee, Sara."

"No, it's not that, it's just. I'm kind of living with someone."

He stared at the back of her head, dumbfounded. "A man?"

"Yeah."

"Like. a boyfriend-type man?"

"Yeah."

"Since when?"

"Oh, um. like. a year."

"You've been dating someone for a year?"

"Actually we've been dating for almost two."

"How did I not know about this?"

"Probably because I didn't tell you." She tapped the display on her cell phone, deep in thought. "Hold on a second, I need to make a call."

"Two years," Greg murmured as she dialed. "Geez."

"Hey, it's me," she said softly into the phone. "We've got a bit of an issue. oh, you heard? Yeah. Well, it's going to take a day and a half for the solution to set, so. right.. Right. Exactly. What do you think we. oh. Are you. oh. Are. okay. Okay. Bye."

She closed the phone, shaking her head.

"What'd he say?"

"Looks like you're coming home with me."