A/N: I have crazy ideas running through my head! Megan – editing is on my to do list for tomorrow!! I promise: ) This will probably be a 3 or 4 shot, depending where my mind goes. I don't own match dot com. Please enjoy and read!
Donkey balls! Sara Sidle loathed these stupid, full of losers and creeps dating sites. She couldn't believe that her best girl friend had actually talked her in to joining one of them. She was pushing forty, her friend Mariel had pointed out, and she was still without a dependable man. It's not like it was her fault! She had standards, for crying out loud! Good guys were hard to come across, especially in a town as sinful and indulgent as Las Vegas. If she were to go into a bar on any given night, half the guys there were out of towners looking for a one night stand that they would later dismiss in their minds as okay, since they were in good old sin city. No, Sara Sidle was not one to be taken advantage of. She didn't let herself be wooed or swept off her feet by men. She'd tried, but Sara had found she wasn't that type of gal. She needed proof; it needed to feel logical. Getting hot and heavy after a few drinks did not seem logical at all.
But here she was – alone on a Friday night, filling out the "Express Yourself" section on match dot com. This was how she ended up spending most of her Friday nights now, since she'd hit thirty – sitting in front of the computer or the television. Feeling as though she was getting too old for the bar scene, she preferred hanging out with a few close friends…except all of those close friends were married couples. It got kind of lonely after a while, being the only single person in your group of friends. That's one of the reasons Sara had finally given in. But damn this website! Why did they have to ask so many questions?
"Describe yourself and your perfect match to our community!" Sara mocked the words on the page in front of her. "Stupid website." She muttered under her breath as she tried her best to think of words to describe herself. Dr. Phil wasn't being much help. I'm a nerd pushing forty who enjoys listening to police radios and reading forensics textbooks in her free time! Sara considered writing, but quickly scrapped it. She was trying to get a date – she couldn't be truthful. This was one of the reasons she like to work so much. When she busied herself, she didn't have to worry about how she was spending her life alone. Plus, at least there were some single guys at work. Not that any of them would ever date her, besides Greg, maybe. But Greg was too immature for her liking.
As her fingers rested at the home keys, she couldn't help but wonder what other kinds of people used this site. Nerds, probably, who picked their noses, owned pocket protectors, went to Star Wars conventions, and who liked to fantasize about Baywatch models every other waking hour of the day. Did she really want to subject herself to that particular breed of geek? Well, she'd tolerated Grissom for while…why not?
Sara tried to take her time filling out the questionnaires, but found some of it downright ridiculous. Which of these turns her on? Body piercings? Nope. Brainiacs? Yes. Dancing? Yep! Erotica? Hmm...No. Flirting and PDA? Yesss!! She'd had to 'control' her public displays of affection with many of her past boyfriends. Hank and the It's okay, babe line had almost gotten her into trouble, and showing even a hint of attraction to Grissom in public was just out of the question. His job was more important than showing how much he loved his girlfriend. He'd made that quite clear, and she was now steadfast in her mind that she would never tolerate that kind of treatment again. If someone loved her, they should be able and willing to shout it out to the world, or he just wasn't worth it. Then again, should she be getting that picky at the age she was?
Sighing heavily, Sara filled out her credit card information and hit the submit button. Hooray. She was now officially a member of match dot com. Let the geeks loose! Why not wink at Sara Sidle? Since it was only nine o'clock, Sara decided to do a little browsing of her own, expecting to come across either overweight or skinny nerds with pimples, or egotistical divorcees. However, she was pleasantly surprised at several of the faces. Of course, there were oodles of the stereotypical internet dating monstrosities, which Sara quickly skipped over. She 'winked' at several guys, which she guessed meant it would let them know she was interested in them. The CSI was already expecting not to get any action back, at least from the good-looking ones. Since it was getting late, she logged off her computer, made sure her door and windows were locked, and then began her bedtime routine.
The thirty-eight year old padded towards her bathroom after changing into her normal sleep attire of panties and a tank top, and began to wash her face with her exfoliating Biore cleanser. The warm water usually calmed her down and helped grab on to that last little piece of sleepiness that would send her beneath the comforter. However, she felt particularly down tonight, and instead of calming, she was getting more tense. Had she really just resorted to online dating? Sara Sidle, who had gone to Harvard University? Sara Side who had gotten amazing job offers at crime labs all over the country? Such success in her professional life, but she was total crap with romance and dating. Was she really that repulsive, annoying, and unpleasant, that no guy had swooped her up in all these years? Did she have some god-awful flaw that everyone else saw, and she was blind to see?
Sara wiped her face with a towel and stared at herself in the mirror for several prolonged moments. Her face still displayed a youth that many women her age would kill for. She was reasonably attractive, she thought. She had a good personality and a sense of humor. She wasn't overbearing, promiscuous, or bitchy. Well, sometimes bitchiness was necessary in her line of work. Sara knew she was a good person, but maybe that's not what the guys wanted. They wanted dumb blondes who could just roll over and spread their legs.
Throwing down her towel onto the sink counter, Sara shook her head at herself and stared herself down in the mirror.
"Who are you trying to kid, Sara? Honestly." She told herself, giving her face one last glare before turning and shutting the light off. Sara crawled into bed – her familiar, queen-sized half-empty bed, and closed her eyes. Little did she know that match dot com was hard at work…and closer to home than she ever imagined.