Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…I wish I did….
A/N: I'm having a hard time finishing up my "Paging Sara Sidle" story. So, here I am, taking a detour and hoping that if I don't think about it, I'll be able to finish it.
"Come on, Sara. It's just one night. One night with the guys!" Nick was desperately trying to convince me to join them for Warrick's post-wedding bachelor party.
"You have sooooo got to come, Sar! It won't be the same if you're not there." Now, Greg was joining in on the persuasion party.
"Is Grissom coming?"
"No."
"How about Catherine?"
"No, she said that she wants to spend the time with Lindsey," Nick said, disappointment heavy in speech. "I really think it's because of the whole thing she had going on with Rick."
"Then why do you guys want me to come along? Don't you think having a chick with you guys will keep you guys from doing whatever perverted stuff you might do without me around?"
"Are you serious? You're one of us. Hell, you're more of one of the guys than Greg here," Nick said as he put his arm around me and hitched his thumb in Greg's direction..
"Alright, fine. I'll come. Where are we going?" Please god, don't let it be Purrfect 10.
"We were thinking The Cat House, but Rick said he really wants to check out Purrfect 10. They supposedly have some of the hottest pieces of ass on the strip."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Great. What time should I meet you guys there?"
I paid the cover and walked into Purrfect 10. I have no idea why the guys chose this particular club. I looked around the club seeking out the shadowy forms of Rick, Nick, and Greg. I had visually 'onced over' the room once and was looking around a second time when I spotted them sitting up against the stage. Figures. They probably wanted to get as close as possible to those hot pieces of ass that Nick was talking about earlier.
I made my way between the tables that were scattered around the floor and sank into an empty seat beside Greg.
"Bout damn time you showed up. We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it," Nick said as he leaned forward and slipped some money into a dancer's thong.
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this for the world." I was lying. I would have preferred to have a root canal without any Novocain. Make that two root canals. Or better yet, have my wisdom teeth removed—while I was completely conscience.
I was busy watching Greg's head and eyes make small circles while he was following the gyrating motions of the new dancer on the stage when one of the waitresses brought me a beer and a shot of tequila. I nodded at her and she placed the drinks in front of me.
She winked at me and said, "Any time, cutie."
I slammed my shot and chased it with the beer.
The dancer that Greg had been ogling was now on her hands and knees and leaning over the stage toward me.
I smiled at her and reached into my pocket for some cash. I held out a five for her and she took it before laying on her back and spreading her legs and moving them over her head so that she rolled backwards and away from us.
I was sipping on my beer and enjoying some light conversation with Greg over the pounding music, when a busty blonde waitress—not our own—came over and knelt down on her haunches in front of me. She put her hand on my thigh and leaned in and whispered something in my ear.
I smiled at her and nodded before she walked away.
"What was all that about, Sar?" Greg asked as he pointed with his beer bottle at the retreating form of the waitress.
"That?" I turned to watched her leave as well, "That's nothing. She was just asking me something." Smooth—really smooth, Sidle.
"Oh. Okay." He was either well on his way to being drunk and was going to believe anything I said or he was too into the naked woman in front of him to dig deeper.
A new dancer had appeared on stage and Greg, Rick, and Nick were busy eyeing every roll of her hips. I'm certain that they were imagining her doing those things in bed with them. They didn't even notice our waitress return with another beer and shot for me.
"So, Brownie, you're not usually here on a Tuesday. What brings you out tonight?" The waitress, Kiki, asked me.
I motioned to the guys sitting beside me. "A belated bachelor's party for one of the guys. They made me come along."
Kiki was soon joined by another familiar face, Carmen. "What's our favorite science geek doing here in the middle of the week? You do know that your favorite girls only dance on the weekends."
"Favorite girls?" Sara slowly turned at the sound of Nick's voice. "What does she mean 'your favorite girls only dance on the weekends'?"
Both of the waitresses made themselves scarce, as Sara took a deep breath. "They were just making small talk. They were saying that the club favorites only dance on the weekends."
"Oh, they're probably right. But this is Vegas. I don't think it matters what night ya work around here. Someone's gonna be sticking money down your pants whether it's Tuesday or Saturday."
Nick turned back to the exotic dancer on the stage. He, Rick and Greg were busy watching the dancer on the stage and didn't notice the strawberry-blonde that came up to me and straddled my lap.
"Whoa!" I said as I put my hands up in the air. "I, uh, don't need a lap-dance tonight." I lowered my hands to her hips and went to push her off of me. She stiffened in my lap.
"Come on, Brownie. You always get a lap dance when you're here."
I turned my head to the side and noticed three sets of eyes firmly planted on me. Below each pair of eyes was a mouth, hanging open. "Stop gawking. Surely you've seen a woman get a lap dance before."
"But she…" Greg started.
"…looks like…" Nick continued.
"…Catherine," they all said in unison.
I slowly turned around to face the nearly naked woman moving in my lap. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks and was only further cemented when she purred into my ear, "So, what can the Wildcat do for you tonight, Brownie?"
