'INTER-SHIFT DANCE COMPETITION' was the first thing that greeted Sara Sidle as she entered the locker room. The bold, black words were typed onto lime green paper, making it almost impossible to miss. Also, it was being rather erratically fluttered in her face. That was a bit difficult to ignore as well. The holder of the sheaf wore a grin similar to the Cheshire cat's.
"Did you see this?" Greg Sanders asked brightly.
"As you've been waving it right in front of my face, yes, I have," she said dryly. "What's the big deal?"
"It's yet another chance to prove that nightshift rules!" Greg intoned excitedly. Sara rolled her eyes.
"Can't that wait until the inter-shift softball tournament?"
"Not according to Ecklie. Personally, I think he's just sore that nightshift had more overtime and a better solve rate than days as of last evaluation," Greg cracked.
"Somehow, I don't see Ecklie as the type to cut a mean rug," Sara said flatly.
"See for yourself." Greg produced another fluorescent green paper with a flourish. As Sara gave it a quick once over, her expression quickly turned from unconvinced to stunned.
"I didn't know Ecklie could dance." She grimaced. "I didn't WANT to know Ecklie could dance. Those mental images are going to scar me for the rest of my life." Giving the sign up sheet a closer look, Sara's eyes widened, and her gaze shifted to her coworker's face. "YOU signed up for it?"
"Grissom volunteered me."
"This ought to be interesting. I don't really think that banging your head around the DNA lab to what you call music is considered actual dancing, Greg," Sara informed him matter-of-factly, turning to her locker.
"Har har," Greg said sarcastically. "I'll have you know my mother made me take dance classes as a teenager. While other boys were at karate, I was learning how to tango, waltz and mambo with the best of them." Sara stared. "Well, would you rather it was Grissom?" he asked defensively. "Just try to imagine it. He'd probably sign up one of his spiders as his dance partner." Sara snorted. "Speaking of partners..." Greg cast a pointed glance at the other CSI. Sara gaped.
"What? ME! You can't be serious!" Greg's expression told her he was, indeed, serious. "You will not get me within ten feet of that dance floor," she declared vehemently.
"Okay," Greg said nonchalantly. Sara glared suspiciously.
"Okay?" Greg nodded.
"Uh huh. I'll just ask Sophia. I'm sure she'd be glad to help me out."
"Sophia!" Sara yelped.
"Yep. It's probably better this way, anyways. I mean, if you can't dance, you can't dance. You're just saving yourself the embarrassment. Perfectly understandable." Sara narrowed her eyes. "In fact, I think I see her now. Hey, Sophia!" Greg waved to catch the blonde CSI' s attention, and Sara snatched the paper out of his hands.
"Wait just one minute. I didn't suffer through five years of ballet for nothing. I KNOW I can dance better than Sophia can. Now where do I sign?" Sophia, who was ignorant to the whole exchange, ambled over at Greg's beckon.
"You called?" she asked him.
"Just wanted to tell you good job on the drowning case," he lied easily. Slightly confused, Sophia thanked him and went on her way. Sara, who remained oblivious to the triumphant grin on Greg's face, and to the fact that she had played right into his hands, furiously scrawled her name next to his.
"There," she said defiantly, handing the sheaf back. "I am officially your partner."
"And I am officially in your debt," promised Greg as he backed away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go hand this in to Grissom. Thanks Sara, I owe you one."
"You're damn right you do," she muttered at his retreating form. As she made her way towards the breakroom for coffee, the enormity of what she had just done struck her. 'Oh my God,' she thought with panic, 'what am I going to do?'
Oookay, so how's that for a beginning chapter? Kind of short, because it was more like a segue into the next, longer parts. Hee hee, I had the mental image of Grissom dancing with a tarantula and Ecklie doing the robot while writing most of this. But can you imagine little Greggo pulling a Patrick Swayze? Ahem, um, I can. (And it's a wonderful image, too...)
Sooo, if I get reviews, you get to choose the dance that Sara and Greg will perform! makes puppy eyes Pleeease? Constructive criticism is welcome, flames will be used to burn Ecklie to the ground.