Author: Isabel Juno

Story: Wild Night in Vegas

spoilers/ Disclaimers/ authors notes: no spoilers, I only own CSI in my dreams, idea for story came from myself, Byte366, and Mj0621.

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Wild Night in Vegas

Conrad Ecklie groaned and mumbled into the phone. His head was resting on his desk and his left hand was gripping a scotch while the right held his desk phone. He was silently cursed his secretary for putting this call through. Gil Grissom stood leaning against the doorframe trying not to enjoy Ecklie's obvious misery too much.

"Yes'm." Muttered Ecklie sounding completely defeated. There was a slight screeching noise over the phone that Gil could hear from the door and that made him half jump out of his skin. Ecklie didn't seem phased.

"I said yes ma'am. Bye. Love you too." The last three words sounded both false and very forced. Gil struggled not to laugh. He'd already failed at not smiling.

"Good morning Conrad." Ecklie's head snapped up in surprise. Gil was taken aback by the miserable look on Ecklie's face. As much as Gil enjoyed Conrad's misery this was almost making him feel bad for Ecklie. Almost.

"So…" Muttered Gil. He now felt uncomfortable.

"Umm… do we have any last minute orders about the Halloween party? My team won't leave me alone about it." Conrad stared at Grissom as if seeing him for the first time.

"Huh?" Conrad blinked and seemed to pull himself together a little bit. "Umm. No nothing new."

"Ok."

"Grissom?"

"What Conrad? Did I forget another meeting? I'm sure if I did I've already been chewed out for it a dozen times." Ecklie looked uncomfortable and Gil privately reveled in it.

"Look I was wondering. You've never been married. How the hell did you keep your mother from ragging on you about it." Gil just stared at Conrad trying to tell if he was serious. Gil frowned and pieced together what was going on. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering.

"I've never had to worry about it. She can't use the phone to call me at work and yell at me about it. She's deaf. Why? Does your mother want little pointed headed asshole grandchildren?" Ecklie ignored the jab and walked out of his office.

"What? No retort?" Gil seemed stunned by this. Ecklie turned back to smirk at him.

"You're leaning in my retort." With that he turned and walked away. He smirked as he heard Grissom say "Shit!" as he discovered that Ecklie's doorframe had just been painted and that he now had a line of black paint running down his side.

Grissom continued swearing about the paint the entire way down to the break room where he received a questioning look from Catherine as Warrick and Nick quickly stifled their laughs. Gil ignored the giggles and smirks and gave Catherine a don't ask look in return. She smirked and merely stared at him with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. Sara looked almost bored with the entire thing though she did look amused. She just wanted her assignment. Greg struggled to keep a straight face which proved to be such an effort that his entire face, ears, and neck turned lobster red. He ended up falling out of his chair and he stayed on the floor shaking with silent laughter while Gil threw the chair where Greg had been sitting a nasty look. Jim simply smiled enjoying the show. Gil looked sourly around him and sighed.

"Well if you're all busy enjoying my misfortune I guess you don't need to know about the party then." He said smugly. Everybody immediately sobered up and pulled on straight faces except for Greg who was still silently laughing and now he was laughing so hard he was crying and he'd stuffed his fist in his mouth to stifle any noise he might make. He was curled up on the floor shaking with laughter and Sara was struggling not to giggle at the sight of the hapless lab rat. Grissom ignored the fact that Greg was still not in sight and informed them that the party was still set for the following night at 7 pm. He turned to leave when Warrick interrupted him.

"What about our assignments?" Gil turned to give him an evil look.

"Well there's a B&E out near Summerlin but I think Cath and I can handle it. You guys get to do the paperwork that I've been avoiding like the plague." Gil reveled in the horrified looks and noticed that the chair Greg had been sitting in stopped shaking as Greg stopped laughing.

Catherine darted out of the room to get her kit and to avoid the murderous looks from her fellow CSI's. She wondered why Gil had picked her and her stomach did a happy little flip that she wouldn't be doing paperwork and more importantly that he had picked her. She practically floated down the hall towards Gil's office with her kit. She quite literally ran into Gil as he was coming out of his office. Both of their kits fell to the floor and she almost did too but Gil caught her quickly. Their faces were barely an inch apart and she felt sure Gil could feel the furious pounding of her heart as her chest pressed into his. Gil released her, his face burning as he began to blush. Catherine tried to calm down and fought the heat creeping into her face. She was so distracted by this she didn't notice Gil was looking very nervous and that his ears were roughly the same color of strawberries. Gil cursed himself silently and quickly bent to pick up the scattered contents of the two kits; Catherine knelt and helped. The two of them quickly restored the swabs, luminal, print brushes, etc. back into their respective cases.

"Hey take the kits to your Tahoe and I'll get the paperwork for the others." Gil instructed in a would-be-casual voice. Catherine nodded and then smirked mischievously.

"You should probably change too." Before Gil could glare or comment Catherine snatched his kit case and strode towards the parking lot. Gil just stared cursing Ecklie and his doorway. He hadn't noticed Catherine blushing and he hadn't noticed that she seemed embarrassed, he was too embarrassed himself. He mentally scolded himself as he walked down the hall so lost in his musings that at first he walked right past the break room. He stopped blinked and doubled back entering the room where his dejected team sat staring daggers at him. Greg lay on the couch and Gil had a fleeting mental image of Greg on a therapist's couch discussing his inner demons and how the Beatles White album spoke to him and told him to do things. Greg stared blankly at the ceiling completely missing Grissom's smirk at him. Gil dropped the stack of paperwork on the table and Nick just stared at him.

"Holy Hannah! When was the last time you actually did your paperwork?" Moaned a dejected Warrick. Sara was just smacking her head on the table in disbelief. Jim sat staring in shock at the enormous pile over his cup of tea. Greg glanced over gave a disgruntled moan and rolled over to face the back of the couch. Nick just stared looking like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time.

"Umm... when was the last presidential election?" Everyone stared except Greg who was still facing the couch.

"Two years ago." Said Jim flatly. Grissom smiled evilly.

"About a week before Thanksgiving of that year." Stares. "Enjoy." Grissom said struggling not to laugh as he waltzed out of the room. He heard Nick burst out in hysterical laughter. Jim rushed after Gil.

"I'm gonna come the scene with you guys. I'm not getting suckered into doing two years worth of paperwork." Gil laughed and shook his head.

"Not two years."

"Oh good God, how many years?" Asked Jim looking like he didn't really want to know. Grissom smirked.

"About 1/6." Jim stared.

"That massive pile is only two months?" He couldn't believe it.

"Yeah. Two months of paperwork and my taxes." Gil noticed Jim's raised eyebrow. "I hate doing my taxes." Jim stopped walking and stared in disbelief. Gil kept walking and after a moment Jim caught up.

"Tell me you're kidding." Jim said.

"I'm kidding." Jim had no clue if Gil was joking or was only saying that. He decided to let the matter drop.

Catherine wanted to kill Gil. She was freezing and she'd only been in the rain for the two minutes it had taken her to run from the lab to her Tahoe, stash the kits in the back, rip open the driver's side door and dive in the Tahoe. Yet she was completely soaked and shaking. She had started the engine and turned on the heat. She hated rain when it was freezing cold. She saw two figures making a mad dash for her car. Gil reached the car first and glared at her until she unlocked the door. Jim practically slammed into the back seat door opening it a second before collision. Catherine had been smarter than Gil, who cut a miserable figure as his hair was dripping into his eyes and he had forgotten a coat.

"Ya know I was going to pull up by the door." They both glared at her. She smirked, momentarily forgetting the fact she was drenched. She pulled the Tahoe into the Vegas traffic which was far more insane than usual. Catherine thought that when it rained all the maniacs decided to go for a drive and that everyone else lost their brains. There were certainly more accidents when it rained. Man did it take forever to get anywhere during rain. At least its not snow, Catherine thought. She glanced over at the surly and soggy Gil, noticing that he still had a line of black paint down his side. She sighed shaking her head and turned north onto the strip.

The bright neon lights blurred and distorted through the torrential sheets of rain on the windows. Gil found himself staring at them absently. He was shivering but the heat was on and he was just starting to dry off when they reached the 7-11 that was splat next to a dingy restaurant that looked about as welcoming as the gates of hell. Gil sighed resignedly and wearily opened the door bidding warmth goodbye. He observed his surroundings and laughed softly. His laughter was lost in the noise of the rain and it was only his bemused look that caught Catherine's attention. She was standing by him holding both their kits. She followed his gaze and realized why he was bemused. He had to yell over the downpour to be heard.

"Two Starbucks right across the street from each other. Its more common than you think." They looked at each other smiling at this. Neither knew why it was funny. It just seemed amusing. Jim was making motions demanding them to go inside. He looked about as happy as a soggy cat and probably a bit wetter. The gas station looked more disgusting than the inside of a Tupperware container of two week old stuff that was, in a former life, shredded beef tacos; the inside proved to be far worse. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered and cast a surreal tint to the dingy gas station. The floors were covered in a thick layer of filth that clung to the bottoms of Grissom's black shoes and made him wonder when the last time anybody gave a damn about health regulations was. It was like the most rank Waffle House in Ohio or the filthiest toilet in Scotland. The second comparison made him remember he needed to make Catherine watch Trainspotting soon before he forgot again and then an interesting cockroach on the floor made him promptly forget again.

Catherine scrunched her nose at the smell of Marlboro's, stale donuts, and gasoline. She vaguely remembered a job she'd had as a kid working in a 7-11 and she didn't remember them being this horrific. She pushed the smell to the back of her mind and took in the scene and took out her notebook and pencil. She absorbed her surroundings, the broken cash register, the scattered packages of cigarettes, the cherry Gatorade bottle on the floor, the V8 that had split open and pooled around a few discarded cigarette butts and the remains of the take-a-penny-leave-a-penny tray, Gil crouched and poking at a cockroach with a pencil like a curious 5 year old. She sighed; sometimes Gil did odd little things that made her want to laugh. She watched him herd the cockroach with the eraser and when she decided he'd had enough fun she poked his shoulder. He jumped slightly and looked up then quickly looked down to see his new friend was halfway across the decrepit floor, Gil frowned.

"Sorry you lost your little friend." She said flatly. Gil's frown deepened.

"That tends to happen a lot." She wasn't sure what he meant but decided not to press it. Gil often said strange things that made very little, if any, sense to her; it was this in part that made her so interested in him. He sighed looking forlornly around him.

"So… do you want to get a sketch of the layout?" He asked in a close to business like tone. She nodded silently getting out her sketch pad and pencil studying the layout while Gil began photographing the scene and Jim studied the various stains on the walls and ceiling.

Warrick had fallen asleep, Greg was attempting to balance a pencil on the tip of his nose, Nick was smacking his head on the table repeatedly, and Sara had sat staring at a page on TPS reports for so long that it had all blurred into a distorted blob and she felt cross-eyed.

"Whose bright idea were TPS reports?" asked Nick suddenly. Sara blinked and looked at him.

"No clue but I wish to hurt them." Greg informed them, still trying to balance his pencil. Nick looked at him for a second.

"Greg you haven't been filling those all out in pencil have you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"They have to be filled out in black pen and in triplicate." The pencil fell off Greg's nose.

"…" Greg looked positively miserable and disheartened. Sara thought that this was all ridiculous; this was Grissom's job not theirs. Greg looked to be on the verge of hysterics and Nick looked like he wanted to give a weary laugh. Grissom and Catherine came in and dropped into the two empty chairs. Grissom slammed a case file down hard on the table making Warrick wake with a start and fall backwards out of his chair. Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going on paperwork strike." moaned Greg as he searched for his pencil. Grissom raised his eyebrows.

"You do know that's how I ended up with all of this to do." He informed them in his normal Grissom-like manner. Nick raised his head a fraction of an inch off of the table.

"What do you do when you get hounded for the TPS reports?" He mumbled before dropping his head back onto the desk with a soft thunk. Grissom grinned.

"I go and buy several energy drinks and then sit down on my floor and spread out the paperwork after calling out for pizza and recruiting Catherine to help.

"The reason I have very little social life and Gil has no social life is because of those damnable TPS reports!" declared Catherine angrily. The team laughed half-heartedly and looked at the clock.

"Half an hour until end of shift." Mumbled Warrick irritably as he picked up his chair and his frame.

"You guys can take off early if you like." Said Grissom charitably. They all glanced gratefully at him and almost all of them double-timed their way down to the locker room.

"Hey Cath." Called Grissom's voice as Catherine tried to duck out.

"Am I being recruited to help you finish the paperwork?"

"No, I just wanted to ask you a question."

"Oh, ok shoot."

"Umm… do you want to go to the party with me?"

"What? Like a date?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"Well would it or would it not be a date?" She asked impatiently. Grissom shifted uncomfortably.

"Ok. Yes. It would be a date." He looked petrified. "If that's ok of course. I mean if you don't want it to be…" he trailed off glancing nervously at Catherine. She laughed and nodded.

"A date it is." She said warmly. Grissom looked like he'd won the lottery. He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"So what are you going as?" He asked her giving her his sly look she loved so much. She smiled and shook her head.

"You get to find out tonight. Can you pick me up at 6:30?" She asked savoring his crestfallen look as she refused to tell him what she was dressing up as. He nodded with a downcast sigh. She smirked and patted his arm.

"See you tonight then." She said as she sauntered down the hall deliberately swaying her hips a little more than was necessary. Gil cursed to himself in a low voice; he'd managed to act like a complete idiot. Well that was nothing new where Catherine was concerned.

Gil glanced in his rearview mirror as he pulled up in Catherine's drive way. He wasn't really fond of his costume. He decided to yell at Greg for suggesting to the male grave shift CSI's that they go with a theme for their costumes. He had to suggest classical Rome. Gil didn't really like the toga. He felt rather naked. He sighed and opened his door, hoping to God that Catherine wouldn't laugh at him. He took a deep breath and rapped sharply on the door. Catherine opened it and as Gil's eyes drank in her and her costume his jaw dropped sharply.

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