Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. They are not mine.

Spoilers: None.

Pairing: GCR and WS

Summary: The four younger CSIs formulate a cunning plan whilst intoxicated (on vodka jelly) one Christmas Eve.

Well thank you all for the reviews, I really didn't expect so many – or any at all – and I did expect some flames, but I was very pleasantly surprised. Thank you to: Megara1, Lifeguard, A.E. Venturi (what happened to your friend's uncle?), sitarra, tria246815, MarTW, Emoney and Ladyvader (and YES, GCR shippers must stand together!) Anyway, on with it. Reviews, again, would be greatly appreciated but you're all lovely, apparently and it's all well and good. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx

Oh and before I forget. This chapter ends on the "S-Word" (gasp!) so watch out for young kids...

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To All, A Good Night. Chapter Two. It Came Upon A Midnight Clear

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Nick arrived shortly, not being one to miss out on a party, and took it upon himself to test the vodka jellies.

"I hope you've washed your hands," Sara commented lightly as Nick poked the half-set green jelly with a finger, his head in the fridge.

"Lighten up, Sar," he told her, handing both her and Warrick a shot glass of jelly. He smiled at her and added: "You look stunning." She grinned, taking the jelly and the compliment to be a peace offering for all their banter over the past year.

"Thanks. And you're looking a little less like you just rolled out of bed, yourself." she quipped, glancing briefly down at the black skirt and fitted deep red shirt she'd just changed into.

"Huh – thanks," Nick replied as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it! I'll get it!" The three of them smiled as they saw Greg speed to the door and open it with a flourish.

"He gets so excited at Christmas..." Sara teased with exaggerated affection.

"Has he had anything to drink?" Warrick asked as Greg bounded up and down, impatiently waiting for Grissom to take Catherine's coat off.

"Nope – he's driving us home," Nick informed him.

"Oh dear." remarked Sara.

"Did you bring presents? Do you want some jelly? Did you bring presents?" Greg demanded, still springing about his living room.

"Yes – yes, take them," Grissom handed over a bag of wrapped gifts, alarmed. Greg took them with a whoop and disappeared.

"Sorry about him," Nick assured them, walking into the living room followed by Sara and Warrick. "Glad you could make it." He hugged Catherine and shook Grissom's hand.

"Vodka jelly?" Greg offered, reappearing in the living room with a tray.

"Anything to make this night go faster," Catherine joshed, picking one of the jellies that didn't have Nick's fingerprint in it. She peered at it hesitantly and, before lifting it to her lips, asked: "Who made these?"

"Us." Warrick answered, holding up Sara's hand and taking one himself.

"Oh that's alright then."

Catherine raised the jelly in its shot glass as Nick, Grissom and Sara picked one up from the tray. "Merry Christmas." She announced and, while the rest of the team repeated it themselves before sampling the surprisingly good vodka jelly, it didn't go unnoticed by the four younger team members the way in which the other two looked at each other, and only each other, while doing so.

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"Oh crap!" Catherine jumped to her feet. "What time is it?"

Grissom rolled back his sleeve and checked his watch. "Half past ten – why?"

"Argh – I promised Lindsey I wouldn't be back late," Catherine muttered, grabbing her coat.

Lying on the sofa, already drunk after seven vodka jelly shots, Nick made the sound of a whip cracking to which Warrick, sitting on the floor and equally inebriated, sniggered.

"I'll drive you," Grissom offered, getting up off the couch. "You're probably over the limit anyway." Catherine stuck her tongue out at him and threw him his jacket.

"Thanks."

"No, don't go!" Greg protested. "It's only half ten!"

"And it's been very nice," Catherine assured him kindly. "But I've really got to go."

"I'll come back later," Grissom added, opening the front door for Catherine.

"Bye, everyone! Happy Christmas!" Catherine called as the pair of them left and was regaled by the loud, slurred shouts of the others in the room.

"He's not coming back," Warrick observed when Grissom shut the door behind them.

"Nope." Greg agreed, collapsing into the chair Catherine had just vacated. "He only came for Cath."

"Yes but he's only gonna go home after dropping her off and go to bed," Sara speculated knowledgably from where she sat, slumped against the sofa beside a scattered row of empty shot glasses before adding: "Alone." in case she hadn't made herself clear enough; she couldn't really remember what she'd just said.

"Grissom's not much of a party animal," Nick commented wisely.

"He should get it together and marry her or something." Warrick added.

"Yes, they should get married and have lots of babies and call all of them Nick." Nick told the ceiling. "No wait – just the boys. No wait – all of them. No wait..."

Sara hit him with a cushion which began a chaotic cushion fight between the two. Warrick looked on laughing but Greg was staring at the wall opposite with a look of concentration on his face.

"Ow – hey, that's not fair."

"Give it up, Stokes – you're no match for me!"

"I could take you on any day, Sidle. You're gonna eat your words."

"Oh, I very much doubt that. You fight like a girl."

"Hey, 'Rick – give me a hand here."

"Wow – Greg, your rug is the same colour as the jelly!" Warrick stated excitedly, examining the floor. Nick and Sara stopped their battle and looked at him for a moment.

"No it's not, War." Sara told him. Warrick looked closer at the floor and then at the empty glass in his hand.

"Oops. Sorry Greg."

Greg didn't hear him, however, and leapt up suddenly.

"I've got The Best idea!" he announced animatedly, filling the room with a silence of anticipation, broken only by the soft thud of another glass falling over and Warrick's low mutter of:

"Shit."

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