Word for Word

Grissom took the ticket from the valet and made his way inside.

Sheriff Atwood nodded to him in the hallway and Grissom tilted his head and kept walking.

He hesitated at the doorway, glancing around the room. When he saw Catherine waving for him he walked to the table and sat down.

"Didn't think you were gonna show." She sipped her drink and glanced over his tuxedo. "You look nice."

"Thanks."

"Well, well, well!"

Catherine and Grissom looked up to see Ecklie haver toward them.

"If it isn't my favorite paper pusher." He eyed Catherine and spat, "Heh!" and Grissom leaned back to avoid his alcohol-tainted breath.

"What's up, buddy?" he asked sarcastically, and Catherine looked surprised as Conrad walked away (either not waiting for an answer, or knowing he wouldn't receive one).

Grissom looked at Catherine. "You know alcohol is a good accelerant." He fanned a hand in front of his face.

"I hope someone drops a match within twenty feet of him tonight."

Catherine grinned.

"What do you think?"

Greg stared at her, the drool visible in the corner of his mouth, and Sara crossed her arms.

"GREG."

"Huh? What? Sorry."

He grinned. "It's just, uh, hard for me to concentrate." He held up his drink, "Must be the alcohol," and Sara smiled.

"Sure it is."

"Could I get a beer, please?"

Greg sat up straight and looked beside him.

Grissom handed the bartender some money and Greg looked at him.

"Uh, drinks are free, Grissom."

"I know, Greg." He glanced at him, did a double take when he saw the woman in red beside him.

"Sara? My God." His hand fumbled when he took his beer, and Sara stifled a grin.

"Hey. Wondered when you were gonna show up."

Greg looked at Grissom, then at Sara, then at Grissom, and back.

"Could I have another over here, please?"

Grissom leaned against the wall watching the crowd as they danced, quiet and examinant, his eyes trailing to Sara when no one noticed.

He'd eyed her from head to foot and foot to head, and wasn't sure which angle he preferred the most. Her red-strapped high heels only accentuated her slender legs, trailing her knees was the hem of that amazing red garment; silk, he'd wager, and the low-cut front and back left just enough to the imagination. Her hair was swept up for a change, revealing a strong, perfect neck with a simple jeweled necklace hanging there, and Grissom secretly imagined her body beneath the flimsy fabric.

Nick and Warrick found him then, interrupting his thoughts.

"Twenty says Greg won't make it to the john."

Nick scoffed. "Fifty says he won't make it to the door."

Grissom stared at them.

"I'm outta here," Catherine yelled above the din, finishing her drink, "Taking Lindsey to a birthday party in the morning."

"'CSI's must attend'," Nick bellowed, reciting the invite, and Catherine snorted. "I did attend, Nicky."

She hugged him. "Tell Warrick bye?"

He nodded. "Can do."

She found Grissom out on the balcony. "See ya," she waved, and Grissom waved back.

He turned back, eyeing the city below, and heard a commotion from inside.

Once inside he stopped beside Warrick to see Ecklie amidst a group of officers, laughing and staggering uncontrollably. Sofia stood with the group, a drink in hand, smiling.

"What's going on?"

Warrick put his hands in his pocket and sighed.

"Ecklie has a pool going for the best 'dance couple'."

"Excuse me?"

Warrick shrugged.

Ecklie's laughter subsided when he looked up.

"Gil!"

Grissom rolled his eyes.

Ecklie staggered toward him, resting a hand on his shoulder for leverage.

"Come on, let's see what you got, huh? You think you're better than me, let's just see."

Grissom leaned back again, grimacing, as Ecklie let go of him and walked away.

He raised an eyebrow, looked at Warrick.

"Did Ecklie just challenge me to a dance off?"