This is for my friend Sylvie, the wonderful writer from across the pond. Her latest story inspired me to finish a story that I have wanted to finish for her for months, when she planted a seed with the idea, "I wonder what Grissom and Sara would be like on a speed date."

I started this story a while ago but was only able to finish it after reading her latest story, "In the Cards." Check it out. It is great as always.

So, monamie, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for always sharing your beautiful gift of writing with us all, and inspiring some of us dorks to write something ourselves.

I hope you enjoy. Again, this story is about how Grissom and Sara would react to speed dating and what would have to happen to get them to get there.

Speed dating

by JellybeanChiChi

Sometime in the late 1990s in California's City by the Bay... And, no, I don't mean Oakland. Think a little before "the conference." :-)

"TIME'S UP!"

Sara Sidle looked up to her friend, Amy, in absolute disbelief. Not at the fact that her three minutes were up, but at the idea that she was being duped into a challenge that was rigged so she would fail.

"Hand it over, Sar," Amy said.

"Not yet. I have a feeling something's rotten in the state of Denmark..."

But before Sara could examine her cubic puzzle, it was snatched from her hand. "No way, brainiac. You said you could solve it in three minutes and clearly there are a few squares playing on the wrong team."

"Yeah, and I think I know why," Sara replied, trying to snatch the Rubik's Cube from her "friend's" (and she uses that term loosely) hand. "You peeled some of the stickers off and then moved them, didn't you Amy?"

Amy gave a mock gasp, as she tossed the cube to another friend across the room. "Miss Sidle, I am just APPALLED you would think I would do such a devious thing."

"I've solved it before and there was no reason I shouldn't have solved it now, unless YOU tampered with it!" Sara said, standing up and walking to her other friend. "If you give me the cube, I'll prove it."

With that, the cube was tossed back to Amy, who put it down her pants. "A bet is a bet."

"You look ridiculous," Sara said, trying not to giggle but not succeeding.

Amy completely ignored the comment. "Sara, you will get in your room and change into some other clothes because..."

Amy paused to adjust herself or rather her cube.

"I bet that kind of hurts."

"Victory never hurts, Sidle," Amy retorted. "Now, get in there. I expect make-up and cleavage."

"You're killing me, you know that?" Sara said, hoping pouting would get her somewhere.

"Oh, please," Amy said, pushing Sara towards her bedroom. "Pouting gets you nowhere with me, Sara Sidle. Save it for the man folk you'll be meeting."

Sara closed her door before her but heard the whoops and woo hoos from her friends who had won the bet. "I KNOW YOU CHEATED!" Sara yelled from her room. She heard the muffled reply through her closed door.

"Too bad, Sidle. You're still going to The Continental tonight. A bet's a bet."

Thunder roared outside. It was ready to downpour. "But it's going to rain."

"THEN DON'T WEAR A WHITE T-SHIRT! OR MAYBE YOU SHOULD!" Amy said, roaring with laughter at her own suggestion. "YOU'RE NOT GETTING OUT OF THIS! A..."

"I KNOW!" Sara exclaimed, opening her closet door. "A bet is a bet!"

Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows arrived in San Francisco six days ago for business. They assisted each other with their tasks — Catherine was to offer a presentation on blood spatter to locals police offices there and in nearby Oakland, while Grissom worked to help establish a body farm some 30 miles away.

Between the work, the driving and the time difference of grave shift employees working during the day, the duo would come back to the hotel, go to their respective rooms and pass out until one of them would knock on the other's door (that was usually Grissom) to start another day.

But on this sixth day, they completed their tasks by early afternoon. Grissom drove them to The Continental where they stayed.

"Interested in sight-seeing?"

"Are you crazy?" Catherine asked him. "Aren't you beat? We've been working nonstop for almost a week."

"Tomorrow we head back to resplendent Vegas," Grissom said, causing Catherine to sarcastically chuckle. "San Francisco's a nice city. I wanted to check out an art museum my mother raves about. You're welcome to join me."

"Does it involve shopping?"

"No. It involves looking at art."

"Well, my art is a burger from room service with a beer and a bubble bath," Catherine said, as she stretched. "I'd say, 'You're welcome to join me,' but you're not my type."

Grissom snickered, "Always the heartbreaker, huh Catherine?"

"Can't get past the bugs, Gil."

"Or the fact that you're married?" Grissom said, turning to smile at his co-worker.

Catherine mockingly portrayed a woman in deep thought. "Marriage... Yeah, I guess... ehh... Goes either way," she said, moving her hands to up and down in an "I'm weighing the factors" motion. "No. It's the bugs, Gil. Can't get past the bugs. Dead bodies don't help either. I mean how do you even date?"

He laughed at her as he pulled in front of the hotel. "Well, I suppose you'll have to be the married one in this friendship."

"I guess," Catherine said and she got out of the rental car. "Look. When you come back, we'll catch some dinner."

"I'll be by around 6."

"Good enough," Catherine said. "See you later, bugman."

After less than three hours, Grissom returned to the hotel, which was good timing because a rainstorm made driving a reckless task. When Grissom got off the elevator to his floor, he noticed the door to Catherine's room was open and maintenance workers were outside. He hastened his bowlegged gait, a look of worry on his face. "What's going on? This is my friend's room. Is everything OK?"

The maintenance men looked at Grissom with two grins. "Yeah, buddy."

Grissom gave them an uneasy look and then continued to his own room five doors down. He put his key card in the slot, opened the door and immediately saw a naked woman on his bed.

He closed the door immediately, leaving himself confused in his hallway. He gathered his senses and slid his key card in the lock again. He was about to slowly open the door when the door opened briskly, but only half way.

Catherine stood at the doorway, with a sheet around herself.

"I can explain."

"Catherine! What the hell are you doing? Is there someone in there with you?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. "No, honey. I've been waiting naked in bed for you for hours. Of course someone's in here."

As if on cue, Catherine's husband — Eddie — strolled up behind her. He did not have sheet, and seemed damned proud of his naked glory. "Hey there, Gruesome."

"Eddie, do you mind if I have a word with Catherine," Grissom said in a controlled tone.

Eddie put his hands upon his wife's bare shoulders and started grinding behind her with a shit-eating grin on his face. "What? No, 'Hi, how you doing?' You need to learn some manners there, buddy."

"Catherine..." Grissom started.

"Jeez, you'd think this was his room or something," Eddie said, not afraid to expose himself. "Oh wait! It is!"

Eddie laughed at his joke but noticed no one else did, so he strolled to the bathroom without a word knowing that Catherine was watching him and Grissom was looking at his own feet.

When Eddie closed the bathroom door behind him, Catherine tightened the grip around her sheet and joined Grissom in the hallway.

"I can explain," Catherine repeated.

"So you've said."

"Eddie came here to surprise me and, remember how I said I wanted a bubble bath and a burger..."

"Catherine, how did you get into my room?" Grissom stopped to ask.

"I can explain... Anyway, Eddie surprised me and came from Vegas for a visit. At the time, I was in the tub and, well one thing led to another..."

"Catherine. How did you get into my room?"

"Getting there, Gil. There was an incident where pipes were broken. We had to call the front desk. The repair needed to be done right away..."

"Catherine. How. Did you. Get into. My room."

"They're all booked up, Gil! They couldn't give us another room and, well, you know... Eddie made a real effort to come for the surprise visit, and you weren't supposed to be here till 6 o'clock."

"So naturally you thought you'd use my room?" Grissom said, incredulously, hoping not to raise his voice too high. "I'm asking you for the last time; How did you get into my room?"

Catherine looked at Grissom and wondered if he was listening to a word she said, "Jesus, Gil. I used your room key."

Grissom looked at his friend as if she was standing in public half naked, which she was. "Why do you have a key to my room?"

"Gil. Please. We are staying at the same hotel. I got keys to both of our rooms."

"Why? So you could have sex with your husband in my room?"

"Yes, Gil! That's it! You figured it out!" Fully agitated, Catherine no longer used a controlled tone of voice. "This whole time I've just waited to have sex in your bed because God knows you weren't going to have sex there!"

Grissom closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me ask you something? If I didn't catch you in the act, would you had told me?"

It wasn't often that Catherine Willows could be rendered speechless, but Grissom's last comment seemed to do the trick. The only thing that broke the silence was a cough from down the hallway. The two maintenance men had taken a break from dealing with the water damage.

"This is unbelievable," Grissom said, in a soft voice.

Catherine grabbed Grissom's wrist and looked at his watch. "Listen," Catherine said in an equally low voice. "The front desk said they would have a room available in an hour or two."

"Great," Grissom said as he went to put his key card in the lock. "I'll just wait for that room to be ready."

But Catherine blocked access to the door with her body. "Gil. You can't go in there."

"It's my room, Catherine."

"With a naked, horny man inside."

"He'll get over it." Grissom made another stab at the door.

But Catherine blocked him again. "Maybe so, but YOU probably won't get over it because I'm horny and going in there too."

Grissom closed his eyes again. "You're not playing fair, here, Catherine."

"He surprised me, Gil."

She was pouting. He hated that. "It's pouring outside, Catherine. It's not like I'm going out in that weather to accommodate yours and your husband's sexual appetites."

"You really have a way with words, loverboy," Catherine retorted, leading Grissom to go for the door again. But if Catherine could do anything, it was think quickly on her feet. "There's another option."

Catherine dashed in the room and came out just as quickly, with a $50 bill in her hand. "They are having a big gathering downstairs in the Mitchell Meeting Room," Catherine said, handing Grissom the money. "Go there for the gathering for an hour or two and then call up to your room. I promise your new room, with a four-course meal and access to a mini-fridge bar — on me — will be ready for you."

Grissom looked at Catherine with a soft smile on his face. "You know, you've only been away from each other for six days."

Catherine, knowing she had broken her friend's resolve, arched herself against the door. "You forget. We both work. We have a little one to take care of, and we're usually stressed. I'm sure someday you'll understand. This is like a mini-mini-honeymoon for us."

"In my room." Grissom repeated.

Catherine was completely unfazed. "I'm going inside. You need anything before you go to the Mitchell Room?"

"No," Grissom said.

Catherine went to turn toward the door, but stopped. "By the way, exactly how much did you see?"

With a shrug and a smile, Grissom shook his head before lightly confessing, "You do have a nice tush."

Catherine smiled confidently back and said, "Yes, I do," before going back into the room and locking the door behind her. Grissom turned to walk to the elevator and realized something, "CATHERINE! YOU TOOK MY KEY!"

Her retort was muffled, but well understood from the other side of the door. "YEAH. TO MAKE SURE YOU DON'T SURPRISE US AGAIN. REMEMBER, GIL. IT'S THE MITCHELL ROOM. A DEAL'S A DEAL."

The gathering the Mitchell Meeting Room of The Continental in San Francisco seemed to be going swimmingly. For $30, singles of all ages had access to an open bar for watered-down drinks that gave them the liquid courage to mingle with one another or simply watch one another.

But there was still fun to be had. For this wasn't just a meet n' greet; this was speed dating. In three minutes, men can display their best "come hither" moves and women can decide whether the man in front of them is Mr. Right, Mr. Wrong or Mr. Right Now.

At least that was how the brochure read for the evening when Sara Sidle picked it up off the registration table. The table where her "friends" (and she uses that term loosely) personally escorted her to make sure she plopped down the $30 to participate in the event.

While she spent the first half hour willing herself to morph into a wall column, there was no getting away from taking a seat at the table to start the speed dating.

"GENTLEMEN. MOVE TO YOUR FIRST TABLE."

Somehow diving in a dumpster seemed like a better idea than speed dating. Sara hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

After plastering what seemed like the eighth plastic smile of the evening, Sara sighed in frustration as she waited for the next man to approach her. The entire scenario of speed dating mystified her and now just plain made her angry. She sighed again as the man came to her table, but instead of a fake smile, she responded to his "I feel your pain" look of frustration with an honest look of her own.

They nodded to one another as he sat down and exchanged the perfunctory "hellos." While Sara looked at the wall behind the man, he looked down at his hands before saying something she'll never forget.

"Did you lose a bet?"

Sara cocked her head slightly before giving a measured response. "Excuse me?"

"I'm guessing you lost a bet."

While she thought maybe he was working on a pick-up line that involved her taking the bait and him offering just a pathetic pun or something, for some reason Sara didn't think that would happen. It still stung that she wasn't able to solve the Rubik's Cube in three minutes. She knew she could and if they had let her inspect the cube properly, then she would have had proof that the blocks had been tampered with beforehand making it impossible to solve the cube.

But she wasn't going to tell this guy anything. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is it that obvious?"

The man just shrugged, but added, "I meant it as a compliment."

Sara offered a smile, and while it was small, it was honest. "Thanks."

Again there was silence, until Sara upped the ante. "I'm guessing a female made you come tonight." The man looked at Sara with the most non-committal face she had witnessed in a while, and definitely in this room. But she was bored and just couldn't help continuing. "I don't think it was your mother... at least... I hope it wasn't your mother." She laced the last few words with sarcasm.

"No," the man answered succinctly.

Sara felt the left side of her mouth curl into a smile. You need a poker face, she thought. "OK, so it wasn't your mother, and I'm thinking definitely not a sister. You're an only child. You have that ... aura."

To that statement, Sara earned a full-fledged eyebrow raise from the enigmatic man across from her. The moment made Sara's frustration ebb, almost to the point where she was actually having fun. "So, it's not mama, and it's not sis... so... it must have been a female friend, a real pain-in-the-ass, who made you attend tonight."

Although his face was soft and he neither agreed nor disagreed with her statement, the sentiment made him chuckle. Pain in the ass is an appropriate moniker, he thought. But enough about him. "So this bet..." he asked.

Sara sat up and tried to match the poker face of the man across from her. But she didn't respond at all to the comment.

But that didn't stop him from continuing. "The bet wasn't a dare. Maybe... a puzzle. I'm guessing it was a puzzle."

Lucky guess, she thought. No way this guy was going to get her to admit anything. "Why do you assume one over the other?"

"Why wouldn't it be a puzzle?" he asked.

"Why would it be a puzzle?" she asked.

"I think you like puzzles."

"I think you like puzzles, too."

"That's possible."

"So might a dare."

"Perhaps. But not in this case."

"Perhaps indeed."

They stared at one another with smiles. Neither was going to yield in this strange conversation, which might have continued had it not been for...

"TIME'S UP!" a moderator called. "GENTLEMEN. MOVE TO THE NEXT TABLE."

They nodded goodbye to one another. He never asked for her name, and neither did she ask for his, which was fine with her. She promised herself nothing would come from such a positively preposterous evening, even if she had met a quiet, handsome man who smelled good and possibly liked puzzles. Firm in her conviction and her poker face, she waited for the next man to arrive across from her.

Then she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Was it a Rubik's Cube?"

Poker face, Sidle. Keep the poker face. "They cheated."

"I'm sure they did." And with that, he offered her a mischievous, unforgettable smile and moved on.

The next man sat down talking, which allowed Sara to employ her fake smile and think of other things.

The nametag read "Gil." That was a good start to solving a puzzle, if she really wanted to.

He called her on the phone and was relieved to hear "Hello, Gil" on the other end.

"My room better be ready."

"Ohhhhhhhh," Catherine teased on the other line. "What's her name?"

"Catherine..." Grissom warned.

"Jeez, take a joke, Gil. It's room 916. Key's waiting for you at the front desk. You can come by and get your stuff."

"Are you and Eddie decent?"

"Would you rather we not be decent?" Catherine teased, having far too much fun for Grissom's liking.

"Not necessary, Catherine," Grissom said shortly.

"Ohhhhhhhh," Catherine teased again. "What's her name?"

Grissom sighed and hung up the phone, hearing Catherine laughing as he did.

But in the elevator, Grissom recalled one woman's name. Her nametag read "Sara." She might have had a poker face, but her red cheeks gave her away. When he sat at other tables, he tried to catch glimpses of her again.

Caught in a daydream, Gil Grissom wondered whom Sara was and if he might ever meet her again.

If he did, he knew she would be a puzzle he would want to try and solve for the rest of his life.

THE END

A/N: Now I need to finish two stories for the Divine Dame Chauncey. I'm trying. I truly am. One is supposed to be funny, and I am stuck on a plausible premise. But the other is almost done, but it is a foray in foreign waters for me and I've hit a block. But I'm going to finish it. Don't know if I will post it, but I will finish it.

Hope you enjoyed this one. Review if you feel like it. They are always appreciated. Peace, my friends.