Author's Notes: Here we go again. Thanks for all your reviews, I do love them so. And I'm getting better, but still am quite sick. I'll try and trudge through writing another chapter, just because you all gave me such great reviews. Y'all're great. Much better than them anime fanfic reviewers. Hehe, no offense to them, but you guys are a much more receptive audience. And I appreciate that. Thumbs up and cookies for all of you.


CSI: - Party Fever
Chapter Two – Dress to Impress


Sara pursed her lips as she peered in the window of a rather small boutique. The dress in the window wasn't really her style. She hoped Catherine knew that too. Sighing, she resigned herself to one of the wrought iron benches on the sidewalk outside the shops. She'd only just arrived and Catherine wouldn't be considered late for another five minutes or so. She groaned. Catherine had metaphorically cornered her in the locker room at the end of shift.

"So . . . what are you wearing to the party?" The woman said, acting nonchalant as she pulled her work shoes off.

"Oh, I don't know . . . I have an old dress or two somewhere," Sara'd responded defensively. She didn't assume this conversation would take them somewhere she wanted to be.

She was right. She checked her watch again. 'The last way I wanted to end the shift would be dress shopping with Catherine,' Sara thought wryly to herself, 'Why's she doing this, anyways?'

"Well that won't do," Catherine said as if it were fact as opposed to opinion, shooting down Sara's descriptions of the few dresses she had at her disposal, "Don't you even want to look nice?"

Rather offended, Sara huffed back, "Why, it's just a work party . . ."

The older woman rolled her eyes.

'I think she knows,' the thought knocked in the back of Sara's brain as she watched the cars pass by. 'But even if she does know, since when would Catherine wish to play matchmaker for Grissom and I?' Sara half-snorted, 'But it's not like she has any other reason to be nice to me. Sure she's not been such a bitch as of late, but she's got no reason to be nice either.'

As Sara's over-analyzing mind wrestled with the actions of her co-worker she glanced up the street to see the woman in question walking towards her from the monorail drop-off point a few blocks down.

"Sorry," Catherine sighed, rather disgruntled, "My car broke down; I had to have it towed."

"Oh, well, we can do this some other time—" Sara flailed wildly for any excuse to get out of shopping with this woman.

"No, I've come this far, not about to give up on you now, Sara," Catherine smiled, putting Sara a bit off-guard, "Let's find you something to wear," she motioned towards the many shops on the street, herding the woman into the nearest one.

The shop was small and dim, dresses hung everywhere in every fashion and color, every cut and fabric. A tall thin woman well into her fifties approached them gracefully, nodding to each in turn, "How can I help you?"

"My friend," Catherine motioned towards Sara, "Needs a dress for a party," she pushed Sara lightly towards the shop woman, motioning for the woman to do what she wished with Sara.

The woman ushered Sara deeper into the shop, picking dresses off of racks as they passed them, Catherine following close behind, "Ah, yes, beautiful young woman," the woman smiled, "Such gorgeous legs, we'll need to show those off of course," Sara could just feel Catherine nodding in agreement, "And for color . . . I'm thinking a green, perhaps an emerald or a lime—"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a deep red, perhaps maroon?" Catherine added edgewise, and the woman chewed the idea for a moment before nodding.

"Ah, yes, I can see it now," she began to pull assorted maroon and brick-colored dresses from the racks, ushering Sara into a dressing room with an armful of garments.

Sara sighed, wondering how she'd lost all say in her attire to the dictator that was Catherine Willows. She'd seen this coming, of course. She shucked off her clothes and pulled on the first dress, a strapless brick-red dress with a hem ending high above her knee to show off her legs. It certainly looked good on her, she admitted, looking into the small mirror mounted on the dressing room wall.

"Let's see it!" Catherine called.

Sara stepped out of the small booth, smoothing the dress down as she 'modeled' the dress for Catherine and the shop keeper. They nodded the approval, but Catherine frowned slightly, "Looks good, but I don't think it'll do," she turned to the shop woman to answer her questioning look, "This is an . . . office party. We want her to look good . . . not bad, if you get my meaning."

'Well, at least I'm not the only one who thought it was a bit smutty-looking,' Sara retired to the dressing room to grab a new dress. She'd liked the dress, but it certainly wouldn't do. She'd have to beat the lab boys off with a stick, no doubt, but she didn't think it was quite what would . . . do it for Grissom. She smirked a bit to herself. Something a bit more conservative would be nice . . . but not too much, because dammit she did have some fine legs and Grissom was going to take notice.

As soon as she slipped into the satiny fabric of the second dress she knew that this, this was the one. It was smooth as silk and colored a deep blood red, its cut very low and it's stringy straps cupped around her shoulders perfectly. The back was low, but not so low to be considered risqué, ending in a V shape about three inches below her shoulder blades. The fabric ended just above her ankles, sure to show off the elegant shoes that she'd be sure to buy to accentuate such an elegant dress and a delicate slit ran up the right side of it to mid-thigh, showing a peek of her legs in the perfect mix of grace and sensuality. She smiled, 'Take notice, Doctor Grissom.'

"This is it," she called out to Catherine, stepping out for the women to view.


Author's Notes: Not much content, just a bit of a shopping spree. Hehe, it's nearly midnight, I'm sick as heck, and I've got work in the morning. Be glad you're getting this. Just kidding, of course. Will update ASAP. Review if you've got the time.