Author's Note: This is my attempt at fulfilling Adina's "3 Elements" Challenge, the
requirements of which are:
1) The first time Grissom calls Sara his Plant
2) Catherine's barrette
3) Someone quoting a John Hughes movie (i.e. Pretty in Pink, Breakfast Club, Sixteen
Candles)
A Little Plant Lovin'
"Have we ever had such a slow night before?" asked Sara. "I'm about ready to
pull out my hair. Shift's almost over and we've been sitting here for *hours* just staring
at the walls!"
Nick eyed her speculatively. "So you want entertainment, do ya? Well I've got an
idea . . ."
His friends knew what he was thinking. "No way, Nicky," Warrick snorted.
"We're *so* not playing Truth or Dare again!" Catherine punctuated this remark
with a threatening look toward Nick.
Sara nodded emphatically as she added, "…And we're *especially* not daring
anyone to kiss me!" Grissom gave her a startled look, then flushed.
Nick tried to look taken aback by these ridiculous accusations. "Hey, who said
anything about truth or dare, guys?" He was answered by four sardonic looks. "Ok. I
made you play it before, that doesn't mean I'm going to again. Besides, I somehow doubt
you'd fall for it again – any of you."
Catherine raised an eyebrow at him. "You've got that right, buddy-boy. But I've
got an idea of my own . . . Sara, c'mere for a second." Catherine motioned toward the
hallway. Sara blinked, trying to figure out whether obeying would be to her benefit, then
shrugged and followed.
"What's up, Cath?"
"I've got a plan. Do you want to get back at the guys for their embarrassing
questions last time around?" A smile slowly spread across Sara's face and she nodded.
"Ooooh. Your revenges are always so…creative, too. Tell, tell!"
"Before I tell, you have to promise not to yell at me."
"Aw, Cath, I'd never yell at you . . .er, well, probably not." She motioned for
Catherine to continue speaking.
"Ok. Have you ever heard of Sodium Pentothal?"
"Truth serum? Of course. It reduces inhibitions, makes people blurt out things
without thinking."
"What would you say if I told you I . . . um . . . 'borrowed' a few ounces from the
lab?"
Sara's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?" Catherine shook her head. "Oh my
god! Do you *realize* how much fun we could have with this? Wait, it's not going to,
like, hurt them or anything, right?"
"Nah. You know police use it sometimes, and they're not allowed to administer
anything that'd harm a suspect, as much as they might want to. So here's my idea. When
shift ends, in just about," she consulted her watch, "ten minutes, you're going to invite
everyone to your apartment. Tell the guys you've got a new dress you want to show
them, or something else that'll get their attention."
"Dress . . . right," Sara commented sarcastically. "But then, you're right – that'd
definitely be something they'd feel the need to see, since they know they'd never get
another chance! Ok, so we'll talk them into coming to my place. I can see where you're
going with this. But how're we going to convince them to ingest the stuff?"
"Ah, Sara my dear. That's when we use our feminine wiles. I know you've got
them, I've seen you work on Grissom."
Sara snickered. "Gotcha. Let's do it, partner!"
The two re-entered the break room, ignoring the suspicious looks the men cast
toward them. Sara started. "Ok guys, here's the deal. I bought this new dress . . ." At their
skeptical looks, she exclaimed, "Hey, I didn't say I was happy about it! Catherine forced
me to go shopping with her last week, then proceeded to make me buy this thing. That
conversation out in the hall, "she gestured with her head, "was her ordering me to show it
to you guys. She says we all know I'll 'never take it out of the closet otherwise'," Sara
mimicked, trying to hide a smile.
Catherine, secretly impressed by Sara's acting abilities, snorted, trying her best to
look annoyed. "So while Sara's still under my influence – and we all know that won't last
long – I've talked her into having everyone over her apartment so she can model for
you." The men exchanged shocked looks.
"Let me get this straight," said Grissom slowly. "Sara went shopping. With you.
And bought a dress. And now wants to show it to *us*?" Both women nodded. "Why am
I a bit skeptical of this?"
"Dude, when else do you expect to be able to see Sara's legs," Nick exclaimed.
"Wait . . . don't answer that. I don't wanna know. Let's just take what we can get, huh?"
"I'm with him, man." Warrick slapped Nick on the back. "Anything to see Sara in
a dress. Are blackmail photos allowed?"
"No."
"Damn, didn't think so. Oh well, I'm still up for it! How 'bout you two?" Nick
nodded enthusiastically. Grissom, after a moment of consideration, nodded also.
One hour later, Sara's apartment
Catherine, having ridden back with Sara, opened the door for the guys. "Come in,
come in."
"Hey guys," Sara said as she entered the room. "Want drinks?" At their nods, she
took their orders, grabbed Catherine, and headed into the kitchen. "Doesn't this stuff
*smell*?" she hissed. Catherine winked.
"Trust me honey, you don't spend six years working in a strip bar without
learning a few tricks about doctoring drinks!" Sara giggled. "Add a little more alcohol –
something pungent," Catherine added, "and they'll never smell a thing!"
"Well I'll just leave things in your . . . capable hands, then, Cath. I'll exit stage
left for my, um, costume change. We're lucky I do actually own a slinky dress!" She
walked back through the living room, where the men were settled on the couch and floor.
"Time for one last kicker of a line," she thought.
"Seriously, guys, if you laugh at my dress I'm gonna have to hurt you. And you
all want to keep those balls, right?" Nick and Warrick giggled, and Grissom managed a
comical look of apprehension. "Ok then. I'll be out in, like, ten minutes. Don't break
anything while I'm gone."
Catherine appeared soon after with the drinks. "Ok let's see. Nick, you've got the
Bloody Mary . . . Warrick? Oh, right…Sex on the Beach." She snorted. "I won't
comment on that one. Grissom. Vodka martini, shaken not stirred," she intoned in a
Bond-worthy voice, "and I wanted a Slow Comfortable Screw."
Warrick almost spit his first sip across the room. "You wanted a WHAT?!"
"Relax, Romeo, it's a drink. Vodka, SoCo, gin, and OJ."
"Oh. I knew that."
The group relaxed, sipping their drinks. Catherine silently observed her secret
ingredient's effect on the men. Nick was first. He started to giggle. Warrick looked at
him, surprised. "'Sup, boy? You realize you're giggling?"
Nick caught himself, looking shocked. "Was not!"
"Were so!"
"Was not!"
They were interrupted by a snort from Grissom. "You're both acting like
lightweights. What, don't you ever drink?" The men fell into a good-natured squabble
about who could drink who under the table. Five minutes later they were all acting like
they'd had 5 drinks each, not one.
A quiet cough from the doorway got everyone's attention. Sara was standing there
in a dress none of them would have *ever* expected her to look twice at, let alone own.
"Ok, ok, stop ogling, boys. Now you've all seen it. Happy, Cath?" Her cohort nodded,
grinning.
Sara sat carefully on the couch, conscious of the thigh-high slit on her dress. She
rearranged herself and looked up, catching Grissom in the act of staring, wide-eyed, at
her chest. "See something you like?" she teased.
"Oh, I see *plenty*, my little Plant," he leered, his words slightly slurred.
Sara blinked. "Plant?"
"Yeah. You know, like vegetation. You like vegetation," Grissom explained
slowly, as if to a child. Sara shot a look at Catherine, who was struggling not to burst out
laughing.
"Right, vegetation. Silly of me to ask," Sara said briskly. Catherine handed her
her drink, a Kamikaze. After taking a sip, Sara spoke again. "So what should we do now?
We've established that we don't want to play truth or dare . . ."
"Hey!" exclaimed Nick in an offended voice.
" . . . because we just had so much fun last time . . . yeah that's it. So anyway, no
T 'n D. How 'bout Charades? Except instead of doing random words…we'll each act out
some aspect of one of the five of us, and see if everyone else can guess. In, um, the name
of science. There's this new theory that people can never recognize themselves. Consider
this an experiment! Sound good?" Four enthusiastic nods greeted her. "Ok. I'll start.
Remember, my charade is *someone* in this room."
She thought for a moment. "Ok, got it. Ready?" Without waiting for an answer,
she grabbed a pillow from the couch, dropped to the floor, and started what appeared to
be a fight with it. After a few seconds, she pinned the pillow to the floor with a flourish,
then started at it again.
The men, meanwhile, were spellbound. Sara had apparently forgotten that she was
wearing a dress. Grissom reached up, felt his jaw hanging open, and tried to push it back
in place, but it only dropped once again.
Shaking his head clear, Warrick suddenly squealed, "Ooh! I got it! You're Nick!"
Sara stopped and sat up, nodding.
"Wait, I don't get it," protested Nick. "How is that me?"
Warrick punched his arm. "Dude…she was wrestling. You…wrestling…college?
Ring a bell?"
"That was *not* wrestling, Sar! You looked like you were having sex with the
pillow, not pinning it!"
"Gee, sorry Nick. Cause 'I have such a deep admiration for guys who roll around
on the floor with other guys.'"
Catherine laughed. "Only you could think of an appropriate quote from The
Breakfast Club, Sara! Ok Nick. Your turn!" She was starting to get a little giddy herself,
though she knew she hadn't ingested any of the drug.
Nick stood, making a show of pondering who he would act out. "Ok, gimme a
sec," he said, turning his back to his audience. He fiddled with his clothing and hair, and
a few seconds later turned back, his shirt half unbuttoned and his hair standing straight
up. Grinning, Nick reached out and grabbed Catherine and swung her up in his arms,
making kissy faces and sighing comically. Then he returned her to her seat and patted her
on her head, eyeing his audience.
"Oh I've got it!" Sara almost bounced out of her chair, laughing. "That's so
Warrick!"
At Nick's nod, Warrick shot him a dirty look. "What the hell was that bit with
Cath, anyway?!" he grumbled.
Nick raised an eyebrow and snorted. "If you don't see it, man, I ain't gonna tell
you! Now, it's your turn, bro."
"Oh yeah…my turn, baby. Y'all better watch out!" He glanced at each of his
coworkers one-by-one with a mischievous look on his face. "Hey Cath, come here a sec."
He drew her out of the room, reappearing 30 seconds later with an even bigger grin on his
face and something in his hand.
He, as Nick had, turned his back to everyone, making adjustments. When he
turned back around his hair was smashed down and held back at one side by the barrette
which had, until a minute ago, graced Catherine's hair. Looked around the room for a
moment, he grabbed something and then swaggered to the center of the floor.
The CSIs looked at each other, confused. Warrick could only grin bigger. He took
out from behind his back a copy of "The American Journal of Forensics" and buried his
nose in it. After a few seconds he looked up and shot his hand up into the air. "Ooh! Ooh!
I know," he cried.
Catherine interrupted him. "No fair War, you can't talk!"
"Too late now," chuckled Grissom. "I know it's Sara."
Sara's eyes widened. "What was that hand-raising thing, anyway? If I know an
answer, I'll say it – I'm not gonna hide it just 'cause no one else does!"
"Hey, Sara, chill. I think it's time for more drinks," said Catherine in her
'mommy' voice. "Everyone want refills on what you've got?" Nods answered her. "Ok,
time out from the game *and* the bickering while I fill everyone up again."
When the next round was passed out, everyone turned to Sara. "Hey, hey, keep
your pants on, guys. I'm having a drink, I'll be ready in a few seconds." Both thirsty and
tipsy, she downed her new Kamikaze in two gulps. "Ok, I'm ready. Gonna have to make
do with the props I have, hope you guys can figure it out."
She stood up and walked to the stereo. At the group's protests, she said without
turning, "My house, my rules, kids. It's all part of the act." She giggled and hit "play,"
turning to face her colleagues to the sounds of "Pour Some Sugar on Me." She pulled her
floor lamp away from the wall, and, shimmying up to it, she hiked up her skirt and began
to give what the group could only hope was her first-ever pole dance. Before she even
started to get into it, Catherine spoke up.
"Well there goes your theory, Sara – that's me and I can tell! But I gotta say, my
pole dances were better than yours will ever be!"
Sara rolled her eyes. "Ok Miss Smarty-Pants, it's your turn. This I can't wait to
see!"
Catherine smiled evilly. "I think we need another round of drinks first. Your turn,
Sara." As Sara left the room, Catherine sat back and eyed her friends. Warrick and Nick
were still giggling like girls at Sara's performance, while Grissom appeared to be
sweating profusely and staring slack-jawed at the lamp Sara had just made "friends" with.
Catherine smiled to herself.
Sara returned and set down the tray of drinks. Everyone was either drunk,
drugged, or both by this point, and the drinks were gone in a matter of seconds. The
group turned and looked at Catherine, who was sitting, deep in thought, on the arm of the
couch. "Oh, this is gonna be soooo good," she thought silently. She continued, out loud,
"Now remember guys – this is all a game! Everyone ready?"
Catherine stood up, but hunched herself over. Turning her feet slightly outward,
she walked over to Sara, who was eyeing her warily. Catherine winked, hoping Sara
would go along with her – or, at least, not beat her up afterward. She pulled Sara to a
standing position and proceeded to give her coworker a smacking kiss. The men hooted
and hollered, but Catherine was intent on her act. She released Sara and pushed her away
almost violently, then bowed her head and attempted to look both depressed and
thoughtful. Then she grabbed Sara again and repeated her kissing performance. Pushing
Sara away again, Catherine added the finishing touch. Taking off a pair of imaginary
glasses, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Before she could open them again,
Nick spoke up.
"Oh you know he's gonna kill you for that one, Cath! That was the quintessential
Grissom!" Sara shot an accusing glance at her former partner-in-crime, plotting how she
could kill Catherine without anyone knowing. While she was thinking about this,
everyone else had turned to look at Grissom, whose red face and dropped jaw spoke for
themselves.
In his best attempt at a supervisory voice, Grissom tried to deflect the attention.
"Cath, how drunk are you? Do you realize you just kissed Sara?"
Catherine, without hesitation, shot back, "Do you realize you've *never* kissed
Sara?" She prayed that the Sodium Pentothal would do its job now, if at no other time.
Grissom looked contemplative for a moment. Turning to Sara, he said
thoughtfully, "You know, she's right. Why haven't I ever kissed you?" Sara stuttered an
attempt at an answer, but managed nothing intelligible. "We're going to have to fix that,"
Grissom continued. Sara stared.
"Grissom. Do you realize what you just said? I think we've taken the game a little
too far, here."
"No, no. I definitely want to kiss you. And I want to see you do another pole
dance, but that can wait." Looking surprised at his own words, he shrugged. "Well, it's
true. I do." He grabbed Sara's hand and sat back down on the couch, pulling her onto his
lap. "C'mon Sara . . . gimme a kiss. Pleeease?"
Attempting to make it look like she wasn't doing a jig inside, Sara leaned over
and obliged. Grissom smiled sleepily at her.
"Mmm, tha' was nice. Now how 'bout that pole . . ." his speech was interrupted
when his head fell onto his chest and he began to snore softly.
Sara pondered. "Ok guys . . . one of you can have the guest room on the right, one
of you can have the pull-out couch in my office over there," she pointed, "and one of you
is going to have to take this couch here."
"Er, Sara. You forgot Grissom," ventured Catherine.
"Right, him. Warrick, can you give me a hand dragging him into my bedroom?
And before you all go getting ideas, please notice that he is, indeed, passed out and
snoring." Warrick shrugged and half-carried, half-dragged Grissom to the room Sara
indicated.
Turning to Catherine, who was regarding her with raised eyebrows, Sara hugged
her. "The truth can be a good thing . . . but I wonder if he's going to remember any of this
tomorrow?"
requirements of which are:
1) The first time Grissom calls Sara his Plant
2) Catherine's barrette
3) Someone quoting a John Hughes movie (i.e. Pretty in Pink, Breakfast Club, Sixteen
Candles)
A Little Plant Lovin'
"Have we ever had such a slow night before?" asked Sara. "I'm about ready to
pull out my hair. Shift's almost over and we've been sitting here for *hours* just staring
at the walls!"
Nick eyed her speculatively. "So you want entertainment, do ya? Well I've got an
idea . . ."
His friends knew what he was thinking. "No way, Nicky," Warrick snorted.
"We're *so* not playing Truth or Dare again!" Catherine punctuated this remark
with a threatening look toward Nick.
Sara nodded emphatically as she added, "…And we're *especially* not daring
anyone to kiss me!" Grissom gave her a startled look, then flushed.
Nick tried to look taken aback by these ridiculous accusations. "Hey, who said
anything about truth or dare, guys?" He was answered by four sardonic looks. "Ok. I
made you play it before, that doesn't mean I'm going to again. Besides, I somehow doubt
you'd fall for it again – any of you."
Catherine raised an eyebrow at him. "You've got that right, buddy-boy. But I've
got an idea of my own . . . Sara, c'mere for a second." Catherine motioned toward the
hallway. Sara blinked, trying to figure out whether obeying would be to her benefit, then
shrugged and followed.
"What's up, Cath?"
"I've got a plan. Do you want to get back at the guys for their embarrassing
questions last time around?" A smile slowly spread across Sara's face and she nodded.
"Ooooh. Your revenges are always so…creative, too. Tell, tell!"
"Before I tell, you have to promise not to yell at me."
"Aw, Cath, I'd never yell at you . . .er, well, probably not." She motioned for
Catherine to continue speaking.
"Ok. Have you ever heard of Sodium Pentothal?"
"Truth serum? Of course. It reduces inhibitions, makes people blurt out things
without thinking."
"What would you say if I told you I . . . um . . . 'borrowed' a few ounces from the
lab?"
Sara's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?" Catherine shook her head. "Oh my
god! Do you *realize* how much fun we could have with this? Wait, it's not going to,
like, hurt them or anything, right?"
"Nah. You know police use it sometimes, and they're not allowed to administer
anything that'd harm a suspect, as much as they might want to. So here's my idea. When
shift ends, in just about," she consulted her watch, "ten minutes, you're going to invite
everyone to your apartment. Tell the guys you've got a new dress you want to show
them, or something else that'll get their attention."
"Dress . . . right," Sara commented sarcastically. "But then, you're right – that'd
definitely be something they'd feel the need to see, since they know they'd never get
another chance! Ok, so we'll talk them into coming to my place. I can see where you're
going with this. But how're we going to convince them to ingest the stuff?"
"Ah, Sara my dear. That's when we use our feminine wiles. I know you've got
them, I've seen you work on Grissom."
Sara snickered. "Gotcha. Let's do it, partner!"
The two re-entered the break room, ignoring the suspicious looks the men cast
toward them. Sara started. "Ok guys, here's the deal. I bought this new dress . . ." At their
skeptical looks, she exclaimed, "Hey, I didn't say I was happy about it! Catherine forced
me to go shopping with her last week, then proceeded to make me buy this thing. That
conversation out in the hall, "she gestured with her head, "was her ordering me to show it
to you guys. She says we all know I'll 'never take it out of the closet otherwise'," Sara
mimicked, trying to hide a smile.
Catherine, secretly impressed by Sara's acting abilities, snorted, trying her best to
look annoyed. "So while Sara's still under my influence – and we all know that won't last
long – I've talked her into having everyone over her apartment so she can model for
you." The men exchanged shocked looks.
"Let me get this straight," said Grissom slowly. "Sara went shopping. With you.
And bought a dress. And now wants to show it to *us*?" Both women nodded. "Why am
I a bit skeptical of this?"
"Dude, when else do you expect to be able to see Sara's legs," Nick exclaimed.
"Wait . . . don't answer that. I don't wanna know. Let's just take what we can get, huh?"
"I'm with him, man." Warrick slapped Nick on the back. "Anything to see Sara in
a dress. Are blackmail photos allowed?"
"No."
"Damn, didn't think so. Oh well, I'm still up for it! How 'bout you two?" Nick
nodded enthusiastically. Grissom, after a moment of consideration, nodded also.
One hour later, Sara's apartment
Catherine, having ridden back with Sara, opened the door for the guys. "Come in,
come in."
"Hey guys," Sara said as she entered the room. "Want drinks?" At their nods, she
took their orders, grabbed Catherine, and headed into the kitchen. "Doesn't this stuff
*smell*?" she hissed. Catherine winked.
"Trust me honey, you don't spend six years working in a strip bar without
learning a few tricks about doctoring drinks!" Sara giggled. "Add a little more alcohol –
something pungent," Catherine added, "and they'll never smell a thing!"
"Well I'll just leave things in your . . . capable hands, then, Cath. I'll exit stage
left for my, um, costume change. We're lucky I do actually own a slinky dress!" She
walked back through the living room, where the men were settled on the couch and floor.
"Time for one last kicker of a line," she thought.
"Seriously, guys, if you laugh at my dress I'm gonna have to hurt you. And you
all want to keep those balls, right?" Nick and Warrick giggled, and Grissom managed a
comical look of apprehension. "Ok then. I'll be out in, like, ten minutes. Don't break
anything while I'm gone."
Catherine appeared soon after with the drinks. "Ok let's see. Nick, you've got the
Bloody Mary . . . Warrick? Oh, right…Sex on the Beach." She snorted. "I won't
comment on that one. Grissom. Vodka martini, shaken not stirred," she intoned in a
Bond-worthy voice, "and I wanted a Slow Comfortable Screw."
Warrick almost spit his first sip across the room. "You wanted a WHAT?!"
"Relax, Romeo, it's a drink. Vodka, SoCo, gin, and OJ."
"Oh. I knew that."
The group relaxed, sipping their drinks. Catherine silently observed her secret
ingredient's effect on the men. Nick was first. He started to giggle. Warrick looked at
him, surprised. "'Sup, boy? You realize you're giggling?"
Nick caught himself, looking shocked. "Was not!"
"Were so!"
"Was not!"
They were interrupted by a snort from Grissom. "You're both acting like
lightweights. What, don't you ever drink?" The men fell into a good-natured squabble
about who could drink who under the table. Five minutes later they were all acting like
they'd had 5 drinks each, not one.
A quiet cough from the doorway got everyone's attention. Sara was standing there
in a dress none of them would have *ever* expected her to look twice at, let alone own.
"Ok, ok, stop ogling, boys. Now you've all seen it. Happy, Cath?" Her cohort nodded,
grinning.
Sara sat carefully on the couch, conscious of the thigh-high slit on her dress. She
rearranged herself and looked up, catching Grissom in the act of staring, wide-eyed, at
her chest. "See something you like?" she teased.
"Oh, I see *plenty*, my little Plant," he leered, his words slightly slurred.
Sara blinked. "Plant?"
"Yeah. You know, like vegetation. You like vegetation," Grissom explained
slowly, as if to a child. Sara shot a look at Catherine, who was struggling not to burst out
laughing.
"Right, vegetation. Silly of me to ask," Sara said briskly. Catherine handed her
her drink, a Kamikaze. After taking a sip, Sara spoke again. "So what should we do now?
We've established that we don't want to play truth or dare . . ."
"Hey!" exclaimed Nick in an offended voice.
" . . . because we just had so much fun last time . . . yeah that's it. So anyway, no
T 'n D. How 'bout Charades? Except instead of doing random words…we'll each act out
some aspect of one of the five of us, and see if everyone else can guess. In, um, the name
of science. There's this new theory that people can never recognize themselves. Consider
this an experiment! Sound good?" Four enthusiastic nods greeted her. "Ok. I'll start.
Remember, my charade is *someone* in this room."
She thought for a moment. "Ok, got it. Ready?" Without waiting for an answer,
she grabbed a pillow from the couch, dropped to the floor, and started what appeared to
be a fight with it. After a few seconds, she pinned the pillow to the floor with a flourish,
then started at it again.
The men, meanwhile, were spellbound. Sara had apparently forgotten that she was
wearing a dress. Grissom reached up, felt his jaw hanging open, and tried to push it back
in place, but it only dropped once again.
Shaking his head clear, Warrick suddenly squealed, "Ooh! I got it! You're Nick!"
Sara stopped and sat up, nodding.
"Wait, I don't get it," protested Nick. "How is that me?"
Warrick punched his arm. "Dude…she was wrestling. You…wrestling…college?
Ring a bell?"
"That was *not* wrestling, Sar! You looked like you were having sex with the
pillow, not pinning it!"
"Gee, sorry Nick. Cause 'I have such a deep admiration for guys who roll around
on the floor with other guys.'"
Catherine laughed. "Only you could think of an appropriate quote from The
Breakfast Club, Sara! Ok Nick. Your turn!" She was starting to get a little giddy herself,
though she knew she hadn't ingested any of the drug.
Nick stood, making a show of pondering who he would act out. "Ok, gimme a
sec," he said, turning his back to his audience. He fiddled with his clothing and hair, and
a few seconds later turned back, his shirt half unbuttoned and his hair standing straight
up. Grinning, Nick reached out and grabbed Catherine and swung her up in his arms,
making kissy faces and sighing comically. Then he returned her to her seat and patted her
on her head, eyeing his audience.
"Oh I've got it!" Sara almost bounced out of her chair, laughing. "That's so
Warrick!"
At Nick's nod, Warrick shot him a dirty look. "What the hell was that bit with
Cath, anyway?!" he grumbled.
Nick raised an eyebrow and snorted. "If you don't see it, man, I ain't gonna tell
you! Now, it's your turn, bro."
"Oh yeah…my turn, baby. Y'all better watch out!" He glanced at each of his
coworkers one-by-one with a mischievous look on his face. "Hey Cath, come here a sec."
He drew her out of the room, reappearing 30 seconds later with an even bigger grin on his
face and something in his hand.
He, as Nick had, turned his back to everyone, making adjustments. When he
turned back around his hair was smashed down and held back at one side by the barrette
which had, until a minute ago, graced Catherine's hair. Looked around the room for a
moment, he grabbed something and then swaggered to the center of the floor.
The CSIs looked at each other, confused. Warrick could only grin bigger. He took
out from behind his back a copy of "The American Journal of Forensics" and buried his
nose in it. After a few seconds he looked up and shot his hand up into the air. "Ooh! Ooh!
I know," he cried.
Catherine interrupted him. "No fair War, you can't talk!"
"Too late now," chuckled Grissom. "I know it's Sara."
Sara's eyes widened. "What was that hand-raising thing, anyway? If I know an
answer, I'll say it – I'm not gonna hide it just 'cause no one else does!"
"Hey, Sara, chill. I think it's time for more drinks," said Catherine in her
'mommy' voice. "Everyone want refills on what you've got?" Nods answered her. "Ok,
time out from the game *and* the bickering while I fill everyone up again."
When the next round was passed out, everyone turned to Sara. "Hey, hey, keep
your pants on, guys. I'm having a drink, I'll be ready in a few seconds." Both thirsty and
tipsy, she downed her new Kamikaze in two gulps. "Ok, I'm ready. Gonna have to make
do with the props I have, hope you guys can figure it out."
She stood up and walked to the stereo. At the group's protests, she said without
turning, "My house, my rules, kids. It's all part of the act." She giggled and hit "play,"
turning to face her colleagues to the sounds of "Pour Some Sugar on Me." She pulled her
floor lamp away from the wall, and, shimmying up to it, she hiked up her skirt and began
to give what the group could only hope was her first-ever pole dance. Before she even
started to get into it, Catherine spoke up.
"Well there goes your theory, Sara – that's me and I can tell! But I gotta say, my
pole dances were better than yours will ever be!"
Sara rolled her eyes. "Ok Miss Smarty-Pants, it's your turn. This I can't wait to
see!"
Catherine smiled evilly. "I think we need another round of drinks first. Your turn,
Sara." As Sara left the room, Catherine sat back and eyed her friends. Warrick and Nick
were still giggling like girls at Sara's performance, while Grissom appeared to be
sweating profusely and staring slack-jawed at the lamp Sara had just made "friends" with.
Catherine smiled to herself.
Sara returned and set down the tray of drinks. Everyone was either drunk,
drugged, or both by this point, and the drinks were gone in a matter of seconds. The
group turned and looked at Catherine, who was sitting, deep in thought, on the arm of the
couch. "Oh, this is gonna be soooo good," she thought silently. She continued, out loud,
"Now remember guys – this is all a game! Everyone ready?"
Catherine stood up, but hunched herself over. Turning her feet slightly outward,
she walked over to Sara, who was eyeing her warily. Catherine winked, hoping Sara
would go along with her – or, at least, not beat her up afterward. She pulled Sara to a
standing position and proceeded to give her coworker a smacking kiss. The men hooted
and hollered, but Catherine was intent on her act. She released Sara and pushed her away
almost violently, then bowed her head and attempted to look both depressed and
thoughtful. Then she grabbed Sara again and repeated her kissing performance. Pushing
Sara away again, Catherine added the finishing touch. Taking off a pair of imaginary
glasses, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Before she could open them again,
Nick spoke up.
"Oh you know he's gonna kill you for that one, Cath! That was the quintessential
Grissom!" Sara shot an accusing glance at her former partner-in-crime, plotting how she
could kill Catherine without anyone knowing. While she was thinking about this,
everyone else had turned to look at Grissom, whose red face and dropped jaw spoke for
themselves.
In his best attempt at a supervisory voice, Grissom tried to deflect the attention.
"Cath, how drunk are you? Do you realize you just kissed Sara?"
Catherine, without hesitation, shot back, "Do you realize you've *never* kissed
Sara?" She prayed that the Sodium Pentothal would do its job now, if at no other time.
Grissom looked contemplative for a moment. Turning to Sara, he said
thoughtfully, "You know, she's right. Why haven't I ever kissed you?" Sara stuttered an
attempt at an answer, but managed nothing intelligible. "We're going to have to fix that,"
Grissom continued. Sara stared.
"Grissom. Do you realize what you just said? I think we've taken the game a little
too far, here."
"No, no. I definitely want to kiss you. And I want to see you do another pole
dance, but that can wait." Looking surprised at his own words, he shrugged. "Well, it's
true. I do." He grabbed Sara's hand and sat back down on the couch, pulling her onto his
lap. "C'mon Sara . . . gimme a kiss. Pleeease?"
Attempting to make it look like she wasn't doing a jig inside, Sara leaned over
and obliged. Grissom smiled sleepily at her.
"Mmm, tha' was nice. Now how 'bout that pole . . ." his speech was interrupted
when his head fell onto his chest and he began to snore softly.
Sara pondered. "Ok guys . . . one of you can have the guest room on the right, one
of you can have the pull-out couch in my office over there," she pointed, "and one of you
is going to have to take this couch here."
"Er, Sara. You forgot Grissom," ventured Catherine.
"Right, him. Warrick, can you give me a hand dragging him into my bedroom?
And before you all go getting ideas, please notice that he is, indeed, passed out and
snoring." Warrick shrugged and half-carried, half-dragged Grissom to the room Sara
indicated.
Turning to Catherine, who was regarding her with raised eyebrows, Sara hugged
her. "The truth can be a good thing . . . but I wonder if he's going to remember any of this
tomorrow?"