Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: So no one who guessed figured out which one Sara was. :) Surprise! ...Did anyone who didn't write it figure it out?

Anyway, thanks, as always, for all the reviews! And I hope you enjoy! I updated as quickly as I could!

CSIfan3408--yeah, I think I might have been channeling a Grissom whose a little more Kiss the Sky than most of my Grissoms. :) Did you like the movie?

I was drunk.

I mean… not so much that I was going to throw up, or end up going home with some guy I didn't know. I think I would pass out before I got that drunk. …But I was definitely feeling good.

And really, who can fault me? Despite being able to drink most of my girlfriends under the table, I'm not a big drinker, because I'm not really all that social. I have a few close friends. The only reason I'm sitting in a big group now is because I had to take all the involved parties—my fiancé's sisters and cousins, and the girls at work who I call friends but rarely see except while at work or grabbing a bite just after. So I think, if there's one time I can get drunk, it's at my own bachelorette party.

And considering all Rachel was planning for me tonight, I figured it was better to be a little unaware.

Thankfully, she waited until Jace's sisters and cousins abandoned us to go dancing—it wasn't that they didn't like me… we just weren't the same kind of people. They didn't know how to relate to me. And I didn't think they'd like watching me go through all the games Rachel had planned, even if they already knew what it involved. Clearly, she'd done so on purpose—not five minutes after they'd dispersed, she was dragging me and the assorted other girls who hadn't left—Anne and Kim from work, and then Michelle and Kyleigh who were my other bridesmaids—to start selling things.

I was clad in jeans and a white t-shirt to which she had stuck about fifty lifesavers, with 'Suck for a Buck' written in large letters on the front and back. I was wearing a veil to which she'd glued condoms (still wrapped, thank god), which she said we'd be selling for a dollar as well—but for five, we'd throw in a kiss. I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that arguing wouldn't stop her—I'd just turn my cheek to the unsuspecting buyers and if they had remorse over the purchase, they could yell at her.

She dragged me through the bar, stopped at every table with a male to announce that I was getting married in just over a week and made me spin in a circle, displaying my wares. At first I felt myself blushing profusely at all the attention, and positively horrified at having the lifesavers sucked off—not only because strange men were sucking on my shirt, but because of all the saliva involved in such a thing.

So when each new table bought me a drink, I was more than happy to oblige—it got my mind off the wet spots on my torso.

And half-way around the upstairs, I wasn't blushing so much. I felt myself take on that overconfident stride that only comes with intoxication, spinning in a circle of my own accord and asking in a throaty voice if anyone wanted to suck. …My friends were falling all over themselves laughing at me, and the constant clicking sound that seemed to filter through the lights and the haze and my inexplicable amusement let me know I would be seeing all of this first-hand in the morning. They were taking pictures.

But regardless of my intoxication, and the sheer number of men who had sucked on me so far and tried far too hard to get more than a cheek out of the deal, it felt harmless. I wasn't worried, or stressed, or tense at all. I was happy… Jace and I were getting married in just over a week, I was with my friends, and despite how embarrassed I was sure to be in the morning, right now I felt fan-tas-tic.

It was a table with two older men that gave me pause—one of them was beyond gone… drunker than me and then some. But the other was… probably just starting to feel it. As our giggling mass moved closer and closer, winding through the tables, I felt his eyes on me, unyielding and hot, and though it made me uncomfortable, I also had to admit that it was strangely attractive. If I were the type of girl to meet a guy at a bar and take him home… if I wasn't engaged… I might have jumped him the moment I saw him.

I like older men—it's as plain as that. I find a touch of gray hair at the temples to be just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Maybe it's just because guys my age still act like they did as freshmen in college… Jace himself is thirty-three. …Jace. I turned deliberately from the gaze of my dark-eyed stranger, who had me positively flushed with a single glance.

The people here were even more interested than the others had been—we sold just about all of the condoms on my veil, and my shirt was entirely too wet again, once we slipped away from them. I tried to keep moving—to leave the solitary man and his very drunk friend alone—but Rachel pulled me over, beaming, not understanding my urgency to not approach him.

"Hi. My name's Rachel and this is Sara—she's getting married in a week and, poor thing, she doesn't have enough money to buy lingerie for her honeymoon. Would you like to buy something to help her out?" She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink, and his eyes slid over my body again, causing me to shudder as if he'd actually touched me.

"What are you selling?" His voice deeper than I expected, and gravelly.

She nudged me, and the fire seeped through my veins. I took a breath, forcing confidence I didn't feel into my voice and stance, bending and leaning closer to him as I spoke, low and gravelly too. "You can suck for a buck or buy a condom… but only if you're going to use it. I don't believe in being wasteful. I'm an environmentalist." God, I was talking a lot. Had I done that at the other tables? Maybe I was further gone than I thought…

He chuckled, and the sound was deep and dark, sending goose bumps down my arms. "I saw you giving away kisses a few tables over… far more environmental—no litter."

I felt my face flush, and a bit of the stupor slip away. "I… I'm all out of those."

Rachel laughed. "Oh, no you don't, Sara. If he's got a five, you've gotta pucker up!"

He pulled out his wallet, glancing inside. "For a twenty, can I convince you ladies to sit and have a drink with me?"

I shook my head, but everyone else was sitting down and the money was changing hands. Rachel tugged me into the chair between her and the mystery man, who I now knew had eyes that were not as dark as I had imagined—they were blue, but still dark enough to make me frightful of what I'd see if I allowed myself to look into them too deeply. A waitress approached, taking drink orders, and when I requested a water, my table erupted in laughter, telling her I needed a Long Island Tea with my water.

The worst part of it was that I wasn't all that drunk—certainly not drunk enough to be out of control… and if I was, at least I would have an excuse for wanting to stay at this table, talking to this man with the deep voice and the dark eyes. …But I knew better. Wanting such a thing at all was dangerous—I was getting married.

I glanced at the man's companion, who was looking around somewhat blearily, as if he'd been asleep against the table and had just now woken and realized he was surrounded by giggling women. I giggled at that, and the man beside me offered a smile. "So—you're getting married, what, a week from Saturday?"

I sighed softly. That wasn't so threatening a question. "I am…"

His grin came back. "…You wearing white?"

I blushed, and he chuckled, letting his arm fall onto the back of my chair, not quite in contact with my shoulders, but close enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. I shivered, realizing belatedly that I hadn't answered him. I cleared my throat. "…Yes, I'm wearing white."

He smiled, licking his lips. "Not very traditional then?"

His eyes flashed with the implication, and Rachel snorted beside me, trying to cover her laughter. The waitress arrived, placing a glass of water along with my drink in front of me and moving around the table, distributing drinks. I reached for the water, and Rachel pulled it out of reach, nudging the Long Island Tea closer instead. I let my hand fall to my lap ineffectually, glancing nervously back at the man.

"I, uh… I've never seen you here, before." I said, because I felt the need to fill the silence that had come between us with the arrival of the drinks.

He smiled, lifting his refilled drink to his lips and let his hand fall away from my seat back, allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm from out of town—Las Vegas."

I smiled, mostly because I was relieved that he felt… safer now. "Do you have a name, or should I just call you Vegas?"

He laughed. "No, I'm—"

Rachel interrupted then, tugging my shoulders and moving her head forward to enter herself into the conversation. "Nope. No names—'Vegas' sounds perfect."

At my perplexed look, she giggled. "You're not here to make friends—you're here to get trashed and to get paid to let men suck on your chest for the last time…"

I raised an eyebrow as the man laughed. "Don't you mean for the first time?" I said, reminding her that I had never been paid to let men suck on my chest in any capacity.

"And last." She said emphatically, looking at… Vegas. "So, you gonna pay for a suck, or are we moving on?"

He sighed, pulling out a five and a one and offering them to her where she tucked them into the wad she had collected. She smirked, tugging a condom from the veil that was now almost empty and passing it to him. I felt my face getting warm for what felt like the hundredth time tonight as he lifted his eyes from tucking the condom into his wallet and caught my eyes. There was a heat swooping in my stomach and a tingling sliding down my arms and a fluttery kind of nervousness as I stood and stepped closer to him.

There was a brief pause—a moment before he made his move. And I found myself imagining the event in anticipation, unable to wait for it to happen to experience it. There weren't all that many lifesavers left—a green one on the top of my right breast that seemed like it had avoided the slobber from previous suckers, a red one near the underside of my left breast that didn't look like it had been so lucky, and another green one near the hem, over my stomach. The rest were on my back. I even let my eyes flutter closed, feeling in my mind the press of his delicate lips over the green, slobber-free circle inches below my chin. It would be soft, I was certain, but he would press more to get his mouth around the disc, and when I swayed backwards from the pressure, his hands would catch my hips and hold me firmly, sucking slowly to prolong the moment spent removing the candy.

…Despite his previous flirting and my fantasizing, he did not choose one of the lifesavers that was over my breasts, but rather picked up the hem of my shirt and pulled it away from my body, sucking the lifesaver from my stomach without ever pressing his lips to my body. The sweetness of it… the reluctance, the hesitation… it left me reeling, feeling dizzy and weak in the knees and positively overwhelmed with my desire for the lips he was now denying me, to my overwhelming disappointment.

My eyes fluttered open as he took my hand, kissed it gently, and then stood, slipping past me and rousing his friend. He was gone before I knew it, and though I knew I ought to be relieved… I simply felt like I was missing something I'd never realized I was missing, before now. …But now that I knew, how exactly could I continue without it?