This is my poor attempt at the Unbound challenge. It's short, but it's my first fic, so short may be a blessing to anyone who actually reads it.
"That's something you don't see everyday," Grissom noted.
Sara tore her gaze away from their DB, her face wry with amusement as her eyes met Grissom's. "What? You mean seeing a geriatric stripper is not part of your regular routine? You don't know how relieved that makes me!"
The corners of Grissom's mouth curled up as he looked at Sara, but his eyes soon narrowed as he heard a loud and hearty chuckle behind him.
Turning to Brass, Grissom raised his right eyebrow.
Fooling no one, Brass tried to cover his laugh by making coughing noises into his fist. With a light-hearted glint in his eyes, Brass gestured towards the dead woman. "I see you've met Candy."
"Candy?" Sara questioned as she grinned at Brass. "Come on, you're making that up!"
Brass ruefully shook his head no. "Alas, it's true. Candy is her professional name. Real name's Myrtle McAllister. She is, indeed, a stripper."
Brass flicked his head towards the door of the hotel room, outside of which a group of elderly gents were being checked over by paramedics. "According to them, Ms. McAllister here specializes in theme parties. You know; birthday parties, bachelor parties."
"Which was this?" Grissom queried.
"Bachelor party," Brass reported. "Seems Candy had just started to do her thing when she suddenly keeled over, clutching her chest. Call came in to 911 about a dead stripper in a hotel room. That's why we got called in."
"Somehow, this just doesn't strike me as foul play."
Brass rolled his eyes at Sara's comment. "Might that have something to do with her being in her seventies?"
"Well, there is that," Sara said, "but it really has more to do with all her customers being in at least their eighties. Which one is the groom, anyway?"
Brass gestured out the door. "The only one without a cane."
Sara contemplated that for a moment before turning to Grissom. "So, what's your call?"
Grissom looked down at the dead woman. She was definitely puzzling. Her carefully coiffured and conservative beehive hairstyle was a stark contrast to the canary yellow, feather boa riddled costume she wore. He silently studied the conundrum before him.
When she received no answer to her question, Sara nudged Grissom with her shoulder. He sighed. As intriguing and out of the ordinary this case may have proven, there was really only one conclusion to be drawn.
"Bizarrely, I'd have to say this was a natural death."
Sara and Brass each nodded their heads before all three of them turned towards the door. But, before they could take one step, David blocked the doorway as he came into the room pulling a stretcher. With their exit momentarily blocked, they waited as David neared the body, getting his first look at it.
David blinked his eyes in astonishment once, then his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Seeing this reaction, Grissom, Sara, and Brass grinned at each other as they left the scene.
David was now alone, staring helplessly at the body.
"Only in Vegas," he sighed