Billiards, Beer and Ballads
A/N: Fresh out of story ideas, I scoured the internet for challenges to inspire me. I found at Under the Bridge this old one from Michelle Cahill. It looked like fun. The elements are: 1) Catherine and Sara beat the guys at pool. 2) Grissom "teaches" Sara a difficult shot. 3) Nick and Warrick sing at the bar. 4) Someone utters the line "Griss, do you realize you have a serious oral fixation?" 5) Someone cracks a joke about the symbiotic relationship of Grissom and Sara.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and that includes the characters and premise of C.S.I.: Crime Scene Investigation.
"What are we doing here, anyway?" Sara groaned. She doubted she could be heard over the loud music of the bar. The regret about allowing Catherine to goad her into this was piling up. "Come on," Catherine had prodded. "Nick and Warrick are gonna be there. We'll shoot some pool, have some drinks, it'll be fun." The blonde scanned the room and quickly spotted Nick waving them over. Making their way through the crowd to table in the corner, Sara was shocked to see that Greg and Grissom were present as well.
Grissom's sprang to attention when he realized that Sara and Catherine were joining them, though he gave no outward indication. He was kicking himself for allowing Warrick to talk him into this. "Just the guys," Warrick enthused. "We'll have a good time." Sara's tight jeans and low-cut blouse informed Grissom that this certainly wasn't "just the guys."
"Well, well, gang's all here," Catherine smiled knowingly. The men scooted around the table to make room as she pulled up two more chairs from another table.
"Hello, Sara," Greg flirted. "I see you dressed up for me."
"Yes, Greg, all for you," Sara stifled a laugh at Greg's red and blue streaked Mohawk. He had definitely gone all out for the occasion.
"So who's up for a game of pool?" Nick asked.
"Let's do it, guys against girls," Catherine leaned back with a smug grin.
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, Catherine. There are only two of us and four of them," Sara protested.
Nick offered a solution, "We'll give you Greggo."
"What?" Greg grimaced with mock indignation. "I've been traded already?"
"Already?" Grissom spoke up for the first time. "You're lucky you weren't traded a long time ago." The DNA tech shot a worried look toward his boss, then saw Gil's smirk and knew he was teasing.
The group got up from the table and moved to the pool table Warrick had reserved. Catherine and Nick went to the bar and brought back the first pitcher of beer and six empty glasses. Soon, everyone had a beer and a pool cue. Warrick carefully racked up the balls.
"Three games," Catherine said, chalking her cue stick. "Best two out of three takes it. Slop counts. I'll break." She expertly lined up the cue ball and slammed the stick into it. The ball shot to the other end of the table, missed the entire rack and rolled into the corner pocket. "Damn!"
"Nice shooting, Cath," Nick teased as everyone exploded in laughter.
"I want a new partner!" Sara caught her breath between guffaws.
"Okay, I guess I'll break," Nick stepped up to the table. Nick's shot was much more effective, evenly dispersing the balls at the other end. The number fifteen dropped into the side pocket. "And we're stripes."
Nick's second shot failed to sink any balls. Sara's turn was next. She surveyed the table and chose the shot she would attempt. Her shot also missed everything.
"We really suck at this," Nick observed.
"Speak for yourself," Sara retorted. "I just need time to get warmed up."
Warrick succeeded in nudging the eleven into the corner pocket, but missed on his next shot. Greg practically danced up to the table for his turn. "All right, kiddies, let the G-Man show you how it's done." He laid his cue stick on the table and rubbed his hands together. Wearing a mask of seriousness, he then began some stretching exercises of his neck and shoulders.
"Today, Greg," Grissom sounded annoyed.
Chagrined, Greg retrieved his stick and made his shot. "Six ball, side pocket," he predicted. The entire group was stunned when, indeed, the six ball dropped into the side pocket. Catherine and Sara high-fived each other. "Hmm, what now? How about the four in the corner?" Greg took his shot and the cue ball fell into the corner pocket. "I can't get all of them right," he shrugged.
"You're up, Gil," Catherine said, tossing the cue ball to her supervisor.
Grissom placed the ball strategically and attempted to calculate the angle of his intended shot. He fell short as the thirteen ball stopped at the edge of the pocket. Shaking his head, he stepped back and took another swig of beer.
Catherine and Nick each took their turns without success. Sara chalked her cue stick and stepped up. "I don't really see any shots," she mused aloud. "Maybe the three, but the angle is bad."
"You'd have to bank it," Grissom suggested.
"Easier said than done."
"Keep it lined up in your eye," Grissom situated himself behind her, placing his arms around her to demonstrate the ideal position of the cue stick. "See the angle?"
"Yes, Dr. Grissom," Sara brushed off her irritation with his condescending tone and allowed amusement to take over. Did he really think he was going to show her anything about this game? She knew he was just trying to be helpful, and she certainly didn't mind the physical contact. She followed his advice when she made her shot. The white ball banked off the wall as intended, but missed the three, instead knocking the thirteen into the pocket. "Thanks, Grissom!" she teased.
"Oh, no," he returned her teasing tone. "Thank you."
"Now that's what I call a symbiotic relationship," Catherine observed. "He helps her with her shot and she sinks his ball for him."
Greg rolled his eyes, "Yeah, thanks Sara. Now we're down by two."
"Chill, Greg," Sara reassured him, "I'm just getting started." With a wink, she added, "It's time to play dirty."
"Excellent," Greg smiled and patted her on the back.
Catherine returned with another pitcher of beer as Warrick took his turn. He drew back his cue stick.
Sara knew the timing was right, "Hey, Catherine, do you ever get that 'not-so-fresh feeling?" Warrick missed the cue ball with his shot as they collapsed in laughter.
"Oh, now you think you're funny," he grinned.
"Very well done, Sara," Catherine congratulated. "I hate those commercials."
"We all do," Sara responded.
"Oh, come on, admit it," Greg hadn't stopped laughing. "We all know women talk about those things." Even Grissom was still snickering. Greg's and Nick's shots were misdirected as well.
"All right everyone, pull up a chair and get comfy. I'm gonna be here a while," Sara stated confidently.
"You're gonna run the table on us," Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
"I'm feeling it now, Nick. Trust me. Take a seat."
Grissom surprised Sara by brushing his palm and fingers lightly against her cheek. "Chalk," he offered lamely. "From the, uh, chalk." She was frozen in place for a moment before regaining her sense of time and place.
Sara's confidence was not misplaced. She sunk four consecutive balls. In the background, bar patrons began singing karaoke.
Grissom was both amused and intrigued. "Have you been hustling us, Miss Sidle?"
"I told you," she bent over to take another shot. "I just needed a warm-up period. You should listen to me occasionally." The double meaning was not lost on Grissom. He removed his glasses and began absently chewing on the tips of the earpieces.
"Griss," Nick began. "Do you realize you have a serious oral fixation?"
"Excuse me?"
"You always chew on your glasses when you're puzzling about something. And lately you stare at people's lips a lot."
"It's your shot, Warrick," Catherine interrupted. Gil reminded himself to thank her later.
Warrick, Greg and Grissom were all woefully unsuccessful. "Take 'em to school, Cath," Sara said as the blonde's turn came around.
Greg pulled Sara aside. "Maybe we should let them win," he proposed. "He is our boss."
"Maybe you should go help Nick wash Grissom's car. I'm not letting anybody win. If I lose, I go down kicking and fighting." She smiled at him.
Catherine cleared the table of the remaining solidly colored balls.
"Bring it home, Baby," Greg laughed triumphantly as Catherine prepared to shoot for the eight ball.
Her shot was clean and the eight ball rolled neatly into the corner pocket. "Rack 'em up, losers," she sneered at the men.
The second game went much the same as the first. Sara and Catherine proved to be a formidable duo, solidly defeating the men with little help from Greg. By the end of the second game, and the fourth pitcher of beer, it was safe to say they were all a bit intoxicated.
An open call for karaoke singers sounded over the speakers. "Oh, man," Nick grabbed Warrick's arm. "Let's go!"
"Let's don't," Warrick replied dryly.
"Don't be a stick-in-the-mud, come sing with me!" Nick dragged his friend toward the stage area. They looked over the selection of songs available and made their choice. "I get to be Cher," Nick insisted. Their coworkers made their way back to the table.
As the music began, Sara couldn't help but laugh. "Are they kidding?"
Nick's voice rang out.
They say we're young and we don't know
We won't find out until we grow
Warrick glanced at him doubtfully then joined.
Well I don't know if all that's true
'Cause you got me, and Baby I got you.
They sounded even worse together than they did separately. They pointed to each other playfully.
Babe. I got you Babe. I got you Babe.
As the duo continued their ballad, Catherine, Grissom, Sara and Greg had to wipe tears of laughter from their eyes. Warrick alone didn't sound bad, but Nick was a different story. "This should be an anti-drinking commercial. It's priceless," Catherine choked out.
Warrick crooned
I got flowers in the spring
I got you to wear my ring
Nick's voice boomed with emotion
And when I'm sad, you're a clown
And if I get scared, you're always around…
"What a ham," Sara joked.
"More beer?" the waitress asked.
"Oh, no," Grissom said. "I think we've had quite enough."
I got you, Babe"Thank God, the song is over," Greg sighed dramatically.
"So how is everyone getting home?" Gil asked when Nick and Warrick had returned to the table.
"Well, Catherine and I came in a cab, so I guess we'll just take one home," Sara told him.
"I drove, but I probably shouldn't now. Too bad a cab can only take five passengers," Grissom pointed out.
"I just live a block from here," Greg offered. "I'll walk."
"Cool," Nick loved it when everything worked out. "So it's settled."
"Thanks for talking me into this, Cath," Sara admitted. "I had a good time."
"Hey, kicking the guys' asses is always a good time."
"Yeah, we'll have to do it again some time. Bowling maybe."
Grissom secretly looked forward to a repeat of tonight. He had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with them as friends, rather then as employer and employees. He hadn't laughed so much in one night in a very long time.
The End