This was a oneshot but that changed very quckly. This is also the longest chapter I have ever written, the next one may be longer. Not mine sadly. I own seasons 1-6, does that count? Please R+R, my inbox is horribly empty and filled with combwebs.
It was the early hours on a normal Las Vegas morning, and Catherine was complaining again.
"Why cant Vegas not kill someone for one night. Gil's paperwork is being to piss me off."
"What you get in return."
"A weekend off. With the boyfriend."
"Where is Warrick anyway?"
"Right here. Finished up my case and thought I'd give you a hand. Hey babe." Warrick finished with a soft kiss on Catherine's lips.
"Get a room guys."
Before anyone could comment, very slurred, yet familiar, singing could be heard.
I wanna rock and roll all night
And party everydayI wanna rock and roll all night
And party everyday
I wanna rock and roll all night
And party everyday
"Gil I think there is more words than that."
"Alright Miss smarty-pants Sidle, what is the words?"
"How should I know? You're the emotologist." Grissom started giggling. Giggling?
"You are so wasted."
"You knows what Gillybert, you are too." More giggling.
"You called me Gillybert."
"Shut up and kiss me."
"Yes m'am." Everyone watched in shock as Grissom grabbed Sara's hips, pulling her towards him, their lips crashing together. Their tongues battled furiously for a lengthy period until they both decided to breathe.
"I love you."
"I love you more."
"Show me then Bug boy." Their lips came crashing again, the force knocking Grissom backwards with Sara lying on top. In their drunken state, they both burst out laughing.
"Honey I think my bum is wet." The laughter hit even harder. It wasn't until they calmed down the second time that they realized they weren't alone with Jim Brass, standing above. Neither made a move to stand. Instead, Sara felt the need to hit Grissom's arm.
"Hey Gil, check it out, it's Jimmy."
"Hey Jimmy, I didn't know you were that tall." He signaled something to the team, indicating that they were both, indeed, drunk.
"Hey Jimmy, are you checking out my bum?"
"I think you have a nice bum." Sara looked down, their noses touching lightly.
"Yours isn't too bad."
"Nope. It's wet though."
"I'll make it better." Her head dropped, their lips reattaching passionately, tongues sneaking out to mate with the other. Disgusted, Brass walked back to the group.
"They're at it again, and they're obviously both drunk."
"Hate to be around when they realize what they're doing." Commented Warrick.
"Hey Jimmy!" Grissom and Sara had some how managed to untangle themselves from each other and were now trying, in vain, to keep the other one on their feet. "Can we get a ride home? My girlfriend and I would like some time alone."
"And we don't like being stared at!"
No one could take it anymore. Grissom and Sara lived twenty minutes from the crime scene and Warrick had to drive them there, with making out and nearly stripping each other on the back seat.
"Never make me do that again. I think I'll need therapy after what I just saw." Warrick had taken refuge on the couch with a cup of Greg's coffee. "All I could hear was moaning then I saw Grissom's shirt fly over the back seat. I thought they were going to do it right there on the back seat."
"Please tell me didn't." Warrick, to everyone's relief, shook his head.
"They were damn close though. I managed to shove them through the door as he pulled her shirt off." Warrick looked into his cup. "I'm gonna need something stronger than your coffee Greg."
Shit. Gil is dead for this. As life returned, Grissom rolled towards her, enveloping her in his arms. In response, she elbowed him in the stomach.
"What was that for?"
"For letting me drink that much last night."
"I had more than you did!"
"I gonna be sick." Jumping form the comfort of her boyfriend's arms, she just managed to hit inside the toilet bowl. She felt her hair being lifted out of the way and soothing circles being rubbed on her back. "Thanks."
"Come on, take some Tyrolean and get you back to bed." She didn't even have the strength to nod.
Slowly recovering from the heavy celebrating the night before, Sara had filled her stomach to the brink of popping and was indulging in a warm bath against the broad chest of Grissom while he delicately massaged conditioner in her hair.
"Hey Gil, what do we tell the guys at work?"
"I haven't actually thought about it." Finishing his work, he gently pushed her down into the water to rinse the conditioner away. Once resurfaced, they switched places with Sara grabbing the shampoo with one hand pushing Grissom under the water with the other. Unfortunately, she failed to warn him and he swallowed a mouth-full. Once the choking subsided, he turned to face the culprit. "Are you trying to drown me now?"
"Sorry babe." The evidence was telling a different story.
"No you're not."
"What are you gonna do about it?" In answer, Grissom took hold of her thighs and pulled her under. Thankful for the extra large Jacuzzi in the bathroom, he followed and kissed her. For a few blissful moments, Sara was lost in a world she didn't even realize existed. Eventually, they resurfaced, their lips still glued together in a passionate kiss. "That was the weirdest thing I've ever experienced." All Grissom did was chuckle before disappearing again. "Shit Gil!"
"Sara, we have a 419 and lots of bugs."
"I'll dress down."
"Greg, run your evidence for court, everyone else on cold cases or paperwork."
"That was probably the biggest waste of time ever and I now smell like decomp." Grissom looked at her, grumpier than she had seen in a long time.
"I'm off for a shower." His grumble was almost inaudible as he trudged off to the locker room, some form of goo dripping from his hair and clothes.
"Wow, what happened?" Catherine appeared behind Sara.
"You know the 419? Turns out he committed suicide. On the way back, David stumbled over a decomp. We were already there so we processed. While the helicopter was pulling the bag to the morgue, the one the handles snapped and the bag was open. Liquid guy…ended up on Grissom's head."
"Eww."
"Hmmm. I do not think I've ever seen anyone looked as grossed out. Now, I may not smell as bad as Grissom, but I really need a shower."
"Don't forget the lemons!"
Showered, changed and lemon-scented, Sara was making her way to the layout room when she felt someone grab her arm and drag her into the shower room.
"You have to help me."
"I'd love to Gil, but you still smell like vomit and last time I checked, this-" running a teasing finger along the towel around Grissom's waist, "is inappropriate for the work place."
"That's why I need your help. My clothes are covered in decomp."
"What about your spare ones?"
"I was wearing them when we went out last night. My other pants are still dirty."
"I wasn't the one who left them in plain view for Hank."
Unfortunately, Catherine was walking past and accidentally over heard the end of their conversation. Who the hell was Hank?
"Hank had nothing to do with that and you know it. I'll have you know, I was distracted." Catherine was somewhere between squealing and collapsing. "You and that damn robe nearly gave me a heart-attack."
"I didn't hear you complaining last night."
"I wasn't given a chance to complain. Can we please get back to the problem at hand?"
"Wait here bug boy, I'll be back in a minute." She knew she shouldn't have, but she did and Catherine dug her teeth into her fist to stop her from her screaming with excitement. Sara closed the already small gap between them and kissed him, with the intent of it being light. It wouldn't go that way and both knew it. As always, it went further than they knew it should, with Sara dragging Grissom into one of the shower cubicles by his towel. Catherine paled slightly when Sara's clothes and the towel flew out from behind the curtain.
Four hours, two cold showers (Sara was having one of those urges, Grissom sat back and enjoyed it (damn my one track mind)) and a breakfast invite later, the Las Vegas graveyard shift were seated in their usual booth at the 24 hour diner, with everyone glancing occasionally at Grissom or Sara until they both became annoyed by it.
"OK. Will someone please explain why you keep staring at us?" all eyes turned to Catherine.
"Last night, at a crime scene you guys showed up, drunk."
"Ok? But that still doesn't explain anything."
"Well you guys…starting making out and nearly…did it on Warrick's backseat. We all thought it was the alcohol until I saw you guys disappearing into a shower cubicle."
"Oh god."
"You two are paying for me to see a psychologist. I'm gonna be scared for life after what I saw. I still have your shirt in my car." They looked at each other in panic.
"Who's?"
"His." Both were visibly relieved. "Don't look so smug. I just got you through the door when hers came off."
With the night (morning) at a reasonable conclusion (with Greg asking "What's Grissom got that I don't" and Sara replying "About 3 inces" turning Grissom bright red.) everyone made their way to the parking lot, where a rather familiar boxer (that's the kind of dog they have for those of you that are going WTF?) was wondering around the street.
"Gil? Isn't that Hank?"
"Not sure. HANK!" Sure enough, the stray dog looked up and barked at his owner, running eagerly to greet them. "You have to be joking. I thought he was with the sitter?"
"Oh but he was."
That was the last thing they both heard before everything went dark.
Well that was only a drabble and a half. Unlike Adam's Song this will be updated soon. I actually know where this is going.