Sara blew out her breath impatiently and surveyed the crowded dance floor. Through the haze of dim lighting she could faintly make out the gyrating figures of Warrick and Nick each with their respectively bemused dance partners.
Turning away from their bad reproduction of the Bee Gees Night Fever routine, she headed for her only sanctuary in a world gone mad. Busty damsels frivolously cohorted in darkened corners with faux fur adorned Tarzans.
The bar was definitely calling to her as only large amounts of swiftly ingested alcoholic beverages could make this grotesque picture anything resembling pretty. Hoisting the heavy skirt of her gown she arranged herself on the nearest bar stool.
After ordering two shots of tequila and a beer she unconsciously began to scan the crowd. Catherine had assumed her long lost position of private dancer for one lucky officer on the secluded stairwell.
She had winked knowingly at Sara as she passed them making magic on her way to the rest room. Her partner for the evening Deputy Dan was fittingly dressed as an overgrown boxer dog. Catherine considered it fate and purred delightedly.
Though Sara's night had not been without the opportunity of a few conquests. She soon became bored of the steady stream of brutish looking rookie's that strolled possessively up to her and began listing of their astounding bedroom abilities.
But it had helped her perfect annoyed eyebrow raising to a fine art. Something she would happily try out on Greg next time he made an amusing but unwelcome attempt at securing her romantic interest.
Sara suddenly remembered that inspite of having seen the cowboy, Zorro and the giant kitty Catherine, she had yet to glimpse the two most exasperating men in her life. Where on earth were Greg and Grissom? She pondered this thought while ignoring the latest in her unrelenting line of painfully optimistic suitors.
'One tequila, two tequila, three tequila… more!' Sara shouted abruptly at the barman intent on quelling her mounting annoyance.
Officer Davies finally got the message and finishing his sentence with a cocky grin as he stalked away. She really didn't think she could take it much longer. The lame disco music and the dodgy outfits weren't as funny as they were depressing.
'Is this seat taken my lady?' Sara heard a familiar lab technical simper into her ear.
She twisted carefully on her stall, afraid that if she moved too quickly, her ass would hit the deck. The copious amounts of alcohol were seriously beginning to take effect and she realized, too late, that being seen drunk at a work party was not the wisest of ideas.
What if Grissom finds out? Was the question that occupied her thoughts until she remembered why she was shifting position- Greg was waiting for her in a stalker like fashion.
Her clouded mind decided that it would be best to hide her intoxication. But that was proving very difficult considering the length of her skirt would make manoeuvring perilous even when sober.
The concentration she put in to the simple task of moving was futile. Upon coming face to face with Greg, she caught her foot on the stall and tumbled into him. Her survival instincts meant she clung onto him in an embrace he happily returned.
'Good Evening Gregory.' She greeted with a straight face.
He was pleased to see his Casanova attitude was working already. 'Hello my fair maiden, you are looking breathtaking tonight.'
'Care to dance?' He added casually.
It was now that she demonstrated her newly acquired eyebrow raising excellence as she pushed herself from his body.
'Easy Greggo, I wouldn't want you to start something you're too afraid to finish.' She teased and her tone reinforced the flirtatious nature of her words. Greg was stunned.
Before he could reply, she turned and signalled to the barman to get her another two shots, one of which she immediately knocked back. And Greg understood why she wasn't, as usual, immediately repelling his advances.
'Sara, are you getting drunk?' He asked with slight amusement. He had never imagined her to be a big drinker.
'No.' She replied before adding with a smirk, 'I already am.' Now the other shot began its speedy descent down Sara's throat as she got up. She suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to dance like crazy so took Greg up on his offer.
She grabbed him by the ruffles on his shirt, led him to the dance floor and then looked him up and down. 'Who are you supposed to be anyway?'
'Italy's answer to Hugh Hefner.' He declared.
She eyed him blankly, though her glazed expression was mostly down to the alcohol in her system.
'Casanova.' He clarified.
Sara allowed her laughter free reign after that revelation. When she calmed down Greg was unimpressed.
'Well…' She started. 'If I'm going to be persuaded that you're the greatest lover that ever lived, I need to see some of your moves.' She challenged and noticed his over exuberant grin. She quickly completed her thought. '…On the dance floor Greg. Nowhere else!'
They took up residence next to Nick and Warrick. Sara figured that they could protect her from Greg if need be. They were equipped for the situation as Warrick kept swishing his fake sabre around and Nick was flashing his pistols at anyone who passed by.
From her position on the stairs, Catherine watched keenly. She knew that despite their initial protests her colleagues would have fun once in the party atmosphere. There was a significant figure missing from the picture though, she noted, but one last thorough scan of the room found him.
She was shocked to see Grissom had made the effort to dress up. His choice of clothing was very traditional and that wasn't surprising to Catherine. He was hidden beneath a large hat which amused her. He could even find a way to deflect attention away from himself when dressed in such an eye catching manner.
Whispered something undoubtedly seductive to Deputy Dan who took his cue to leave, she slinked over to the lonesome Grissom.