Author's Note: Halloween pseudo song-fic! This contains a song that, when listened to, conjured up images of a Halloween party at CSI (for me at least). People, you should all find it and listen to it. The song is "Strict Machine" by Goldfrapp. I don't own any of the songs mentioned anywhere in this fic. I don't own much, folks.
Halloween Party of Doom
On October 31st Las Vegas was burning down. Halloween brought out the beast in everyone, and vandals tore into the city like it was hell on earth.
But that was definitely not a problem for Gil Grissom, as he entered the CSI building, briefcase in one hand and large duffel bag in the other. For tonight (or a few hours at least) their crew would be holding the annual Halloween party. That meant that every nightshift CSI came in their work clothes a few hours early and brought a costume to change into. The dayshift CSIs would have their fun at the normal witching hour, while the nightshifts were on the job trying to scrape the scumbags off the strip.
So here he was, walking towards his office trying to pass unnoticed. Each year once he appeared people would pester him until he revealed his costume. This year would be different. For once in his life he had gone all out, trying to impress a certain coworker...
Grissom planned the costume and the night meticulously over a period of almost a month. Halloween would go off without a hitch, he thought, and she would be indelibly marked as his.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Deeper in the building, excited CSIs were already dressed in their costumes. Dusk had claimed the 7 o'clock hour, bringing the party to a beginning as far as they were concerned. Investigators swarmed in the break room, tastefully decorated in cobwebs and pumpkins, eagerly awaiting their supervisor's grand entrance. Rumor had spread that his costume overshadowed everyone else's.
Greg entered the room carrying his boombox over one shoulder and a two liter of Cherry Coke in the other hand. The first, most noticeable aspect of Greg's costume was his fire-red hair. As soon as Sara laid eyes on it, she knew it was dye and not a wig.
She burst out laughing, pointing so that everyone would know the cause for her humor. "My goodness Greg! You really went for the part this year!"
Giving a winning smile, the lab technician spread out his arms, allowing everyone to get a good look at his costume.
Warrick looked him up and down. "Man... who are you supposed to be? You've got red hair and a symbol on your chest."
Nick swooped in with the save. "Hey, didn't you ever watch the show? Greg's a Planeteer!" He waited for an instant. "You can be one too! Saving the planet is the thing to do!" He grooved while singing the jingle.
"Wheeler to be precise!" Greg sported the red-jeweled ring on his right hand. "FIRE!" he shouted, pointing the ring menacingly at a pumpkin, clearly expecting flames to leap out of it. "Damn thing's not working... FIRE I said!" He shook his fist at the pumpkin. "Psch. Must be the greenhouse effect."
They all laughed and turned to check out other people's costumes. Warrick was dressed as a magician, in a black suit with a black bow tie, cummerbund, top hat, and wand. Nick, a zombie, had blackened out his eyes with makeup and worn ragged clothes. Catherine came as Calamity Jane wearing a fringe jacket with a cowboy hat and packing two holsters worth of six shooters (fake of course).
Sara was the last one in the room to be examined closely. Greg and Nick "awwww'd" as Sara (a calico cat) curtseyed. She twirled once showing off her white-black-orange face paint, cat ears headband, and wire tail poking out of her black slacks. Just then Brass walked through the door as a mobster in a pinstripe suit, hair slicked back, with an unlit cigar in his mouth and a Tommy gun in one hand.
"What's your name lil' kitty?" he sneered in a fake mob accent.
"Whatever you want it to be..." she replied sweetly. Brass nearly choked on his punch, turning beet red and fingering his collar.
Sara flopped down on the couch, stretching much like a cat would. Nick sat down beside her. "You just bent your tail Sara."
She sat up and turned around, looking at her tail over her shoulder. The calico wire tail bent at a 90 degree angle about halfway down its length. "Well, straighten me out then," she suggested.
Nick's ears reddened as he reached behind Sara to straighten her wire tail for her. "I wonder where Grissom is... I heard his costume is rockin."
Brass took another swig of the fruit punch. "He's always fashionably late. Probably trying to think of a way to make an entrance." His cop-sense alerted him to something the others failed to catch. A dark form was rapidly approaching the glass-paned doors. The rest of the blinds had been pulled to give them a bit of privacy from the dayshift staff. Speaking of an entrance, Brass thought to himself.
Sure enough, the cloaked form lifted one foot and kicked both doors open, causing Nick to bolt off the couch and Greg to spin around in place. Warrick and Catherine looked up from their conversation, Warrick wielding his wand and Catherine drawing her guns. Sara flattened out on the couch defensively holding her "paws" in front of her. In strode Grissom wearing a feral expression. He stopped in front of Brass and bowed, allowing his black cape to flow over his outstretched arm.
"Pardon my lateness, sir, but I was delayed."
Brass waved him off with the tommy gun, flicking imaginary ash off his still-unlit cigar. "Quite alright, quite alright, now we can start the party, see?"
Grissom straightened and smiled, showing off two perfect white fangs. "Indeed."
Everyone was on their feet checking out their supervisor's costume at every angle. His wide stance was indicative of power, emanating confidence. He wore a long black cape, clasped around his neck with a silver broach. Underneath that was a dark crimson silk vest covering a white men's blouse. He accessorized with black slacks, black boots, and a silver pocket watch with chain hanging from his vest pocket.
Grissom's eyes seemed strangely... intense, commanding. When met by one of his CSIs, they quickly looked away. Only Sara seemed pulled in, like there was a message there, in the bottom of those crystal blue depths.
The look was gone, and they were soon engaged in various party games. Game number one was pin the tail on the werewolf, in which a menacing poster of a werewolf was attached to a glass door. Each person was spun around ten times before being let go with a tack bearing a furry tail (probably a piece of hapless rabbit). Warrick won, hands down, easily placing the tail on the right place on the wolf each time.
Next came the ever-popular bobbing for apples. Participants had their hands bound behind their backs and had 30 seconds to pick up as many apples as they could out of a (sterilized) metal tub. Due to her face paint Sara opted to stand back and cheer or, when it was Greg's turn, "help" by shoving his head under.
"Deeper Greg, you've got to bob deeper if you want them apples!" she shouted with glee. Brass looked slightly unnerved as though he thought she might accidentally drown the resident lab rat.
Catherine claimed victory in the apple-bobbing competition, narrowly beating Nick with a record-breaking eight apples. She nearly killed Greg after his comment about her superior mouth skills, leaving everyone amused.
Last but not least was the karaoke machine, courtesy of Nick. It had been quite humorous to dayshift earlier when a zombie strolled down the halls rolling a midsized karaoke machine behind him.
First song up was, of course, given to Nick because it was his fault they all had to go through with it. Grissom found himself pleased that the glass walls and doors were soundproofed as soon as Nick opened his mouth to spin out "Ice Ice Baby." Halfway through the song the Texan got up enough confidence to dance as well and, by the end of the rap, he had Sara and Catherine acting as the chorus.
Next Brass belted out "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones, followed by Catherine with "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton. Warrick passed on the whole affair, grimly sitting in the back of the room offering thumbs-ups and thumbs-downs to each performance. Greg received "Instant Karma" by John Lennon, another song that got support from the audience in a rousing chorus of "We all shine on, like the moon and the stars, and the sun..." Last up was Sara, as Grissom had also taken Warrick's route.
Sara approached the karaoke machine. "Hey Nick, how do you decide your own song?"
"Uh, hit the playlist button and scroll through it if you like. It's in alphabetical order. Or you can just hit randomize and it'll start one up for you if you can't decide."
Biting her tongue in concentration, she finally found the song she wanted. "This thing is great Nick! It's got a million songs!"
He smiled, glad that somebody appreciated his contribution to the party effort. In a loud voice he announced Sara.
"Okay, here we go folks. This is the last round and so far Brass is in the lead with 'Satisfaction.' Man did he sing it... Must be personal experience man, not gettin no satisfaction."
Brass snorted, tucking into his brownie (Catherine's party donation). "Oh so much personal experience Nick, way too much for my liking."
Sara cleared her throat. A few seconds later a powerful bassline kicked in, fueling a primal rhythm. Grabbing the mic, she looked straight at vampire Grissom and began to sing.
"I get high on a buzz
Then a rush when I'm plugged in you
I connect when I'm flush
You get love when told what to do"
Sara's eyes broke contact with his after an unbearable moment of tension. Grissom was drawing her in, hypnotizing her, and coaxing her along her path. She closed her eyes and continued singing.
"Wonderful electric
Wonderful electric
Wonderful electric
Cover me in you"
Gripping the microphone like a lifeline, she looked around the room to find various shades of shock, humor, and joy on everyone's face. Warrick was giving her a thumbs-up and Catherine was nodding. Nick kept stealing glances at Grissom while Brass toasted her bravado. Taking their reactions as support, she plunged headlong into the chorus.
"I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in love with a strict machine
I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in love with a strict machine"
This time when she looked at Grissom his expression had turned... hungry. His stare seemed to peel off her face paint and, in fact, a few layers of clothing. For the first time in a long while, she felt wanted by him. Licking her lips, she pointed out at him while singing the next few lines.
"When you send me a pulse
Feel a wave of new love
Through me
I'm dressed in white noise
You know just what I want
So please"
Honestly pleased by the turn of events, she tilted her head back and finished the song, taking time to look at each audience member, but sending lingering looks to him.
"Wonderful electric
Wonderful electric
Wonderful electric
Cover me in you
I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in love with a strict machine
I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in love with a strict machine ..."
Once the song ended, applause broke out amongst the CSIs. Brass stood up and shook Sara's hand. "You win girl. Hands down that was the best, most... appropriate rendition of Strict Machine I've ever heard."
She checked the clock. "We finished just in time, too. It's 9:45. We've got a job to do people!"
Grumbling broke out from all sides of the room. Grissom swept his cape over one shoulder and spoke up. "Okay people, let's get this cleaned up. Put what you can in the refrigerator, the rest in your lockers. Decorations, utensils, that sort of thing all go in my office if someone will bag them up. Dayshift may get to celebrate their Halloween elsewhere but I think we had a good amount of fun tonight."
Degrees of assent followed his statement. Greg stepped forward with a pile of half-drunk 2 liters of beverage. "Yeah man, this was awesome. Everybody's costumes were great! Thanks for inviting me Grissom, the lab techs were having a party later but... you know how partial I am to you guys..." He shot a dejected look at Sara.
Catherine, hands full of brownie platter, responded. "Thanks for coming Greg, I haven't seen a Planeteer since Lindsey was pretty young." She took off her cowboy hat and fanned herself. "I didn't realize a leather cowgirl jacket would get so hot, sheesh!"
Brass continued to pull at his collar. "No wonder mobsters were so short tempered. Any more time in this and I'd be tempted to shoot some people too."
Sara looked around and noticed that Grissom was missing. "Probably left to get out of his costume" Warrick suggested, removing the werewolf from the door and cobwebs from the corners of the room.
She looked at the sack of plates, napkins, plastic knives and forks she held. Nightshift routinely hid any such items in Grissom's office to prevent dayshift from using them. Their motto was that anything worth keeping was worth keeping away from dayshift.
Sighing, Sara grabbed that sack and the bag of decorations Warrick had finished removing from the walls. Scanning the break room one last time, she was satisfied that everything had been taken care of. The other CSIs left to remove their costumes and Brass said his final goodbyes.
Unfortunately, before Sara could get out of the cat costume (that tail was getting painful!) she had to take the party equipment to Grissom's office. She hustled down the hall, hoping she could get there and leave the sacks before he got back from changing out of his costume. The thought of being in his office, alone with him, was unnerving to her at the moment.
Especially after that song... she thought. At least I made my point.
Without thinking, Sara pushed open the door to Grissom's office, entered, and sat the two bags down on his desk. Before she could turn around though, an arm snaked around her stomach.
Sara inhaled quickly, trying to scream, but another hand clasped down over her mouth.
"Shhhhhhhhhhh my dear," a seductively low voice came from behind her. "Don't struggle my pet, I'll only enjoy it more."
The arm around her waist twirled her around and Sara found herself nose to nose with an untamed Grissom, still in his vampire costume. Despite her desire, she still pulled away from him out of natural reactive fear. He smiled slyly to show off the white tips of his fangs.
"Where do you think you're going Sara? You're mine. That song... you knew it was true or else you wouldn't have sung it for me. 'You know just what I want'? Heh. I do know what you want..."
His voice was nothing more than a breath and she herself was too scared to breathe, lest it all be a dream. Grissom placed one hand firmly on her lower back, holding her still. The other hand tipped her face upward. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but his eyes trailed downwards and suddenly she knew.
The costume. She was his.
In a split second, he growled and attacked. She felt his mouth burn into her neck for what seemed like a kiss but turned into a bite.
Sara couldn't help herself. She moaned, wrapping both arms around him just to keep herself upright against the flood of sensations. Pain was rapidly becoming a forerunner of these feelings, but desire kept it in check.
Grissom groaned, pulling away from her and turning them both slightly to admire his handiwork in the dim light of his desk lamp. Two perfect circles were imprinted on the shallow of her slender neck.
That one hand returned, grasping her chin so he could look into her eyes again. Dark eyes met light ones. Voice gruff with emotion, Grissom smiled dangerously.
"You're mine."
THE END
A/N: The alternate title for this was "Marking Territory" which was more pulling but also could have given away the ending too soon. Did you like it? Please R&R, and tell me if I went too far, just right, or not enough. I'm also still looking for a Beta if anyone's interested.