David Hodges was more than immensely pleased that LVPD did not permit decorations within the laboratory. It meant it could revel in his festive misery whilst others ran up credit card debts on gifts for relatives they saw once a year, tops. Of course, he would never name those responsible for the moaning come the time January's bill was due, but he could at least think it. He remembered a conversation between Mandy and Catherine about the chances of having some glittery fairy lights at her workstation, and the latter had battered down the hatch on that idea swiftly and decisively. Nobody asked after that.
There was, however, one event that did occur around this time of year. Graveyard shift had a policy that they would at least go for a couple of drinks one night over the December month. Hodges wondered whether this was Catherine's idea of allowing them to have a social life, albeit within the office, which he felt negated the point. Then he realised he didn't really have a social life, period, and would actually be quite grateful for a vodka and coke and a chat beyond those extended over the internet.
The printer beeped as the analysis on evidence Sara had bought it was displayed for all to see.
"Thanks, Hodges!"
He spun round and saw Sidle standing there, glancing over the information. He likened her to a ninja; pouncing at the opportune moment, and realised she had always been that way. Marriage had changed her a little; perhaps a softening around the edges. Hodges tried to recall her age, and figured she was indeed younger than him. Younger and married, and it wasn't as if Sara had married young. Despite this, he wasn't overly bitter. Just a little lonely; something he had become accustomed too whilst watching re-runs of Star Trek and feeding his cat, who much to his dismay, only had a vocabulary of meow.
Sara had long since left the room when he returned to reality. Checking his watch, he realised both he and Sara would be clocking off soon and meeting the others at the local LVPD hang out. Every force had one; he remembered the one in LA which he had frequented rarely and only on the insistance of his manager to try and engage with his colleagues. Las Vegas was different. He was quite sure he was universally both loathed and loved for a mass of reasons; loathed for his pertinent information at times when it wasn't needed, and loved for the fact he managed to help the CSI's solve cases. But he had made friends here. Sure, he wasn't down with Nick's latest love and he didn't go to the barbers with Greg, but they didn't talk to him as if he was disposable. He was able to form friendships, something his despairing mother had always hoped for when little David stood in the playground at recess figuring out how to make fire between two sticks and failing miserably.
There was, of course, someone else. Casually throwing his glance across the corridor, he could see her deep in thought, possibly about the case that had still eluded them a week on, or possibly because she still hadn't figured out what to wear tonight. Hodges allowed the thought of a disrobed Wendy Simms for a mere second before he saw her haphazardly waving in his direction. He responded in a similar manner, before pointing at his watch and then the clock, signalling that it was soon time to leave the lab. Unknown to her, and even to himself, she was a large reason in why he was able to make it into work on time. He and Wendy had the strongest bond; a bond he had failed to establish with any other female in his life, other than his mother, and he was grateful for that.
"I hope you're not wearing that lousy get up for tonight?" She piped up, standing a few metres behind him. So lost was he in his thoughts he hadn't noticed her approaching his lab. "It speaks geek, and not geek chic."
"I'll have you know, I got this from Gant." He responded, churlishly.
"Was it in the bargain bucket? Or the discontinued section on account of the fact it's so damned awful?"
Hodges looked down to his colourful shirt and frowned. He liked it, at least.
"Have you figured out what you are wearing tonight then?" He threw her a playful smile. "You could always go and get a body bag and fashion it with some earrings."
"Nice, very nice." She smiled back, her lips curling softly. "I've got a change of clothes in my bag, and a pair of heels in the car – I don't think they're your size though, so you're gonna have to get your own."
Spinning on her flats, Wendy shot him a grin and walked towards the locker room, tapping her watch as she passed.
Christmas, Hodges thought. Goodwill to all.
In true festive fashion, the bar was decorated within an inch of it's shortening life span and music blared out from the speakers that confirmed the countdown to the 25th was on. There was a bowl of mulled wine in the corner that remained untouched, many feared it was probably laced a bottle from the cellar that had seen better days, despite protests from the bar manager that it was perfectly drinkable.
Hodges was nursing a vodka and coke, his second of the night, whilst the others seemed to be on a concoction of various spirits and shots. They had convinced him that tequila tasted of strawberries, and he had gulped it down readily before the grimace across the faces of his colleagues had given away the game. It had taken a great deal of resolve not to propel the contents of his stomach across the table, but the laughter of his peers had gone some way to absolving his shame.
Catherine was draped over Vartaan, Greg was in an animated conversation that involved Sara and Nick was discussing a baseball game with Ray. Sitting quietly, he realised Wendy had been to the bar when she returned holding two drinks.
"I got you a vod." She chirped, her face flush from the heat of the room and the alcohol in her system. "Double!"
"Are you trying to seduce me, Simms?" He picked the glass of her hand and took a mouthful of the liquid, trying not to buckle under the strength of the liquor. "Actually, I'm anyone's after a couple of drinks."
"That's good to know." She replied, coquettishly. "I am a rather more seasoned drinker."
"I'm hopeless."
"I know!" She giggled, patting his arm lightly. "Like I've said before, you're the dumbest smart person I know..."
Catherine interrupted the two, who were oblivious to the others, with an invitation to join her on the dance floor. The rest of the team were on their feet in seconds, including Wendy, which left a rather inebriated and embarrassed Hodges to once again, sit in silence with his drink.
"Come on David!" He could see Wendy encouraging him to join her on the dance floor, arms outstretched. "You have to dance!"
For a moment, he just stared at her. She looked ridiculously beautiful in a small, but not overly revealing black dress. Her hair tumbled down past her shoulders and in true festive style, she had placed a small clip in her hair brandishing tinsel. He felt his heart pound furiously in his chest, leaving him almost short of breath as he recalled her playful touch of his arm. He was no fool – Hodges was aware she had been drinking and she had no more singled him out than any of the other men around the table. It was circumstantial that she had chosen that moment to touch him, and he realised it in a moment of sobriety. But god, she was like an angel as she moved delicately on the dance floor, moving closer to Greg who was inches away from her body. A swarm of jealously washed over him, and he put his half finished drink down on the table and made his way over to the floor.
"You came!" Removing herself from Greg's grasp, Wendy half walked, half danced towards the nervous Hodges. "This is my favourite song...".
He watched her flexible limbs move in rhythm with the music, stretching and flinging in all directions. How on earth was he to compete with that, he thought anxiously. Conversation was one thing he found difficult enough, but dancing was a whole new ball game.
Waiting for the beat, he decided to put his cowardice to the back of his mind, and slowly he began to use energy to move his arms in time with the song. He realised no one was looking at him; the rest of the team were too wrapped up in their own little dance routine to notice that Hodges had put himself up for ridicule which would last way into next Christmas. The last time he had attempted to dance was at his senior Prom, and that had turned into a shitstorm.
"Am I doing it right?" He got closer to Wendy, shouting towards the general direction of her right ear.
"You are totally awful, but it's funny to watch!" She called back, grabbing his hands and trying to encourage him to dance with her. "Follow my steps"
Concentrating on her feet and hands simultaneously, he watched as she threw herself into various shapes, still clinging onto his digits.
"I'm trying..." He attempted to match her moves, and as he stuck out a right hand in the arm in time, the music merged with another track and the tempo of the beat changed significantly. "...that's better."
The song was what Hodges would consider romantic, warranting a slow dance. Noticing the guys making a hasty retreat to the seats, he started to move in the general direction.
"Not so fast..." Wendy quipped, pulling his free hand until their bodies were inches apart. "...I love this song too, and since you're the only guy left on the dance floor, you have the honour of dancing with me."
"Wendy, I can't dance for shit!" He responded, savouring the scent of her perfume as he moved closer on her insistence.
"I can see that, but I want to dance, and I can't dance alone."
Yielding, he pulled her towards his excited frame and tenderly placed a hand on the small of her back. He draped the other arm across her shoulders, and resisted the temptation to stroke the nape of her neck. The heat in the room was almost excruciating, but it seemed to blend into insignificance as he moved in time with her body. The tight embrace seemed to form as a bubble, almost in a place far away from the bar, from Vegas, in a whole different dimension, and he realised his heart was pounding in rhythm with hers.
"Wendy...I..." He whispered into her ear, the sweat from her hairline electrifying against his skin.
"Sssh," She replied simply, placing a finger to his lips. "Don't fuck up the moment with your idiocy."
So they swayed. In the distance, the other CSI's watched with hopeful eyes at the two labrats. For years they had danced around each other to a merry tune, and this was the strongest sign they had received yet.
As the song climaxed and the rest of the dance floor emptied, the two peeled their bodies away from one another.
"Mistletoe!"
Catherine had gallantly pinched some of the display greenery from the bar and ran towards the two, locked in an embrace of eye contact as the rest of the CSI's watched on, restlessly.
Hodges was the first to break the spell. Glancing up, he saw the festive buds and looked down towards the nervous looking Wendy, who opened her eyes wide with the fear of the unknown. He looked into the deep pools of her eyes, trying to figure out whether she would be the grateful or repulsed recipient of a kiss, and grasped her hand gently. Hodges felt himself plead with the above for an answer, and before he had made the eternal decision, he felt a pair of soft lips locked upon his own and the sweet taste of a beautiful women darting around his tongue.
In the background, he could hear the hollering of his colleagues, whooping as if he'd just scored a home run. It felt irrelevant, as he bought his hand up her back and towards her neck, stroking her skin benevolently. She responded in kindness, deepening her kiss until Hodges felt they were as one.
He realised he hadn't taken a breath and at the same time remembered it had been a long time since he had kissed anyone, never mind someone so inherently beautiful. His thoughts were pinging in all directions, from elation to the continued sense of nervousness, back to the uncomfortable movement in his jeans.
After what felt like a lifetime, Wendy broke of the kiss, leaving him gasping for more.
"Woah there solider," She grinned, licking her lips. "I think we both deserve a drink."
"Ye-yeah." He stammered, trying to regain his composure. "Drink."
As they made their way back towards their friends, Hodges felt Wendy grab his hand and squeeze it tightly.
"Merry Christmas, David"