A response to a challenge. I have not forgotten about A Turning Point. I have another chapter almost ready to post for that one, and expect it to be completed shortly. Thanks to willowaus for the beta read, she's not a fan of the last two words though, so I will take the blame for those.
Spikespiegel's challenge as posted on YTDAW
-A party for Grissom in the lab
-Grissom inadvertently tells Sara he thinks of her naked
-Sara blatantly tells Grissom she thinks of him naked
-Greg throws up the horns
-Someone confusing the definition of ecdysiast and realizes his/her blunder
-Judy hits on Warrick
-Catherine hits on Warrick
-Sofia hits on Warrick
-Nick hits on Warrick
-A spiked punch bowl
-Grissom quoting Albert Einstein's famous watchmaker quote
Any length, any rating. But, let's try and keep it tasteful, yes? After all, there is an ecdysiast present.
A ecdysiast, a party and a confession
Sara gently rubbed her shoulder as she followed Brass. He was roughly escorting, what she could only refer to as a butch prostitute, to the interrogation room. Arresting the woman was supposed to have been her last task for the night, and it was supposed to have been an easy task.
The woman struggled briefing in Jim's grasp, making the CSI stop to give them some space, she had been nailed once already by the suspect.
"Easy Eve, or I'll use that stun gun on you," Brass warned.
Entering the small room, the suspect was pushed down into a chair. Sara grimaced slightly as she followed suit in a chair opposite the prostitute.
"I did nothing wrong, you were harassing me," the loud woman explained.
Looking at her in disbelief Sara answered her, "So, if you did nothing wrong can you explain why you attacked me after I told you I had a couple questions?"
The stocky blonde cast the brunette a disdainful eye, "I didn't attack you."
In reply, Brass threw a bagged stun gun on the table, "So this it what you use to introduce yourself?"
"I was scared, I carry it for protection," she answered innocently.
Flipping through her notes, Sara was too tired to play games, "Do you use it on your clients or your pimps?" She asked sliding a picture of a dead man, his face scorched with small, round, burn marks.
"I'm not a prostitute," was her only reply.
Raising an eyebrow, Sara decided to play along, "What are you then?"
"I prefer to call myself an ecdysiast," she said with a serious tone.
Sara shifted, and a pain shot up her side. Trying to cover, she looked quickly down at the papers in front of her.
Brass picked up on the subtle gesture, "Uh-huh, Eve will you excuse us?" He moved to Sara's side, and pulled her up, leading her from the room.
Once the door shut behind them Sara looked over at the captain, her whole face a question. "Why did you pull me out of there?" she demanded.
Offering a sigh, he looked her over, "You should get checked out. You took two hits with 600,000 volts. Take a break, and let Greg finish this case."
She began to protest, "Greg can't. He's—"
"—right here." The younger CSI finished as he walked up to the pair. "What've got?"
Seeing she wasn't going to win, Sara smacked Greg's chest with the file, "Electrical burns and an ecdysiast. Good luck." She called as she walked away.
"Ecdysiast?" Greg mumbled and looked up at Captain Brass. He smiled at the older man, and walked toward the interrogation room.
---/---
Greg closed the door behind him and looked up. Shock filled his face, "Ma'am?"
Eve looked at him with distain, but said nothing.
Swallowing, Greg pretended to read for a moment, only looking up as Brass reentered the small room, and looked at the younger man with impatience.
Setting the file down, Greg slid the picture of the dead man in front of the suspect.
"He's not my pimp, he's my lover," she blurted out.
"Your lover? How long has it been since your surgery?" he asked innocently.
"Huh? What?" she asked in confusion, and glanced at Brass, "What the hell is he talking about? What surgery?"
Clearing his throat, Sanders shifted uncomfortably, "You know, the um…surgery," he emphasized and nodded downward.
The suspect shook her head waiting for more information, any clue as to what the CSI was talking about.
Greg looked helplessly at the captain, who in turn sighed loudly, and pulled the CSI to his feet, "We'll be right back Eve."
Shutting the door, Brass stared at Greg.
The former lab rat looked up, "What? What did I do?"
"You tell me."
Pointing to the closed door, "I'm just trying to figure out if the victim knew Eve was a Steve."
"What has led you to believe that Eve is a…Steve?" Brass tried humor the new CSI.
"Sara said…she said…" he started to back pedal. "Sara said she was an ecdysiast."
"Ok kiddo, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to book Eve here for attacking a police officer, you're going to go back to the lab and find yourself a dictionary, and then we're going to meet back here in an hour." Without waiting for an answer, Jim headed back into the interrogation room, leaving Greg standing helplessly in the hallway.
---/---
Sara walked slowly into the lab, walking past the reception desk, and noted Warrick reaching out for his messages that were securely in the hands of Judy.
"You know I can do more then just take your messages…"
Sara shook her head, trying to rid her memory of the scene, and walked quickly past the pair just in time to hear Warrick begin to stutter. Eyes focused on the break room, and some much needed coffee—
"Sara," a concern filled voice of Grissom stopped her dead in her tracks.
Turning slowly toward the voice, she plastered a smile on her face, "Grissom, happy birthday." She offered hoping to get him off track.
Motioning her into his office, the look on his face told her he would not be distracted.
Once inside he closed the door and turned to face her, "Are you ok?" he asked scanning her for visible wounds.
"Brass—" she said under her breathe.
"—is concerned. What happened?" he asked, using every ounce of restraint he had not to rush over to her, and begin physically searching for injuries.
Unconsciously rubbing her shoulder, "We had a suspect attack us with a stun gun." Her voice was steady, but her hands were clearly shaking.
Grissom reached out and took her free hand, "Us?" His question carried a tone that implied he already knew the answer.
"Me," she finally confessed, her mouth becoming dry, wondering if he was aware that his thumb was stroking her hand.
He took a step closer to her, "Do you need to go get checked out?"
Their eyes were locked, and Sara searched his, trying to figure out what he was thinking, "I'm fine," she told him, and removed her hand from his. The air feeling unusually cold as it hit her skin where his touch had been.
"Sara you should at least get checked out, the killer was using one of the strongest stun guns on the market."
"Suspect," she answered, once again hoping to change the subject. She was feeling uncomfortable in his presence. Having learned how to deal with his emotional detachment from her, she had no idea how to react to him when he would suddenly care about her.
A knock on the door ceased further conversation. Grissom turned, and opened the door to reveal Nick wearing a party hat, "Happy birthday boss!" He said, putting a hat on the man in front of him.
Sara stared around Grissom's shoulder. She wanted to ask Nick if he was insane, or just didn't value his own life, but his smile was infectious.
"We're having a party for you. In the break room," the younger man explained, nodding down the hall.
Sara glanced out the door, her brow scrunching in confusing as she saw Greg walk past with a large book in one hand, while the other was used to smack himself on the forehead. The combination of everything was enough to make her want a drink.
"We'll be right there Nicky," Grissom offered, shutting the door in the CSI's face. Slowly turning to face Sara again, he wondered how he could get out of the uncomfortable party that he seemed to doomed to participate in. "Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?" The question was clearly plea.
Laughing finally, Sara stepped closer, and reached up to straighten the colorful hat, "No way boss. Wouldn't want to ruin your birthday party. I was going to jump out of the cake."
Considering the comment for a moment, a crooked smile appeared.
"Stop it." Sara commanded smacking him lightly.
"Stop what?" he asked innocently.
Moving for the door, she continued, "Stop what ever it is you're imagining."
Placing a hand on Sara shoulder, he started to comment, but felt her flinch at the light touch.
"Can I at least check you out?" he asked, pulling the neck of her shirt back without waiting for an answer.
Two angry welts marred her otherwise smooth skin.
She could feel his breathe on her neck, and she suddenly understood the expression 'becoming weak in the knees'. Placing a hand on the door frame, she steadied herself.
"Honey, we should put some burn cream on these at least. They look painful." His voice was low, and held a quality she rarely heard.
Sara wasn't aware of his body heat until it was gone, and she turned her head in time to see him opening a first aid kit, while taking off the paper hat at the same time. "Grissom, I'm fine. The muscles are just sore mostly."
Looking at her over his glasses, he pointed to one of the chairs, "Sit."
Complying she sat at the edge of the chair, "We're going to miss the party."
Coming around to the front of his desk he gave her a 'like I care' look, and opened the tube of burn cream. Pulling the shirt away from her body again he put some of the salve on his fingers, and applied it gently, "Did you loose consciousness?"
The feel of his hands on her bare skin was insanely distracting.
"Sara?" Grissom's movements stopped.
The lack of contact snapped her out of her trance, "Uh, what?"
Putting more cream on his finger he repeated himself, "I asked if you lost consciousness?"
'No but I think I'm dreaming,' Sara thought. "No, things got blurry after the first hit, and the second, I had pretty much lost all muscle control, but never lost consciousness."
"Second? You were hit more then once?" he reprimanded her.
Sighing she realized fighting him just wasn't worth the effort, "Yeah, my right side."
He lifted her shirt to examine the spot she indicated, "Can you?" He asked motioning to her shirt.
She held it with her uninjured hand, and waited for him to attend to her wounds. Her breathing increased as she thought about his hands on her. This needed to stop soon, or she was sure she was going to do or say something inappropriate.
Grissom watched as Sara grabbed her shirt. It rode up high enough for him to catch a glimpse of her dark green lacey bra, and he suddenly realized what a bad idea the whole situation was. His mind wandered.
"…Grissom?" Sara's voice brought him back to reality.
"What?" he asked and began applying the salve to her burns on her side.
Sara tensed slightly, "Tickles," she confessed. "What were you thinking about?"
"You," he answered honestly.
"Me? I hope I was fully dressed," she joked.
"No," after the word left his mouth he stopped. 'Did I really just say that?' he asked himself.
"No?" Sara was staring at him.
Pulling her shirt down, Grissom stood suddenly, "No, that's ah… that came out wrong. We should get to the party. Are you okay? Is that better now?" He opened his door, and waited for her to follow.
Sara for her part was speechless. 'Did he really just admit that he thinks about me naked?' She shook her head and stood to follow him toward the break room.
---/---
Rock music blared mindless in the background of the break room which was now decked out in balloons and streamers.
Catherine noticed Warrick chatting with Sofia over the punch bowl. Walking over, the blonde was smacked in the face with Sofia's hair as she flipped it over her shoulder. Stopping she shook her head, and made her way around the pair.
"…you let me know." Sofia finished her sentence, and walked away, but not before smacking Warrick firmly on the butt.
Catherine stopped, "Did she just…"
Warrick shifted uncomfortably, "Yeah, it's been a strange day."
"So that wasn't just a 'good game'?" she asked feeling slightly territorial.
"No, no, I think she just hit on me," he confessed.
"Can you blame her?" the blonde winked and walked away leaving Warrick confused and alone with his punch.
Sara's head was pounding and the music was not helping. Glancing around she wasn't surprised to find Greg head banging by the stereo. Curious as to why he returned to the lab so quickly, she decided to find out what happened with their suspect. "Greg."
Standing next to the stereo, Greg was completely enthralled in the noise.
Sara leaned in, avoiding his hands that were in the classic rock symbol, and yelled in his ear, "Greg!"
He stopped, looked at her, and put down his hands, and sheepishly turned down the music. "Sara, hey. Did you talk to Brass?"
"No, but I was wondering what happened to you."
Looking down, he ran his hand over his face, "I uh, Brass sent me back here."
"For what?" her confusion was growing.
"I ah… I needed to do some research." He explained hoping she wouldn't ask what he meant.
"Greg, what happened," Sara asked.
He realized Brass was mostly likely going to tell her anyway, so he decided to just tell her the truth, "When you said Eve was an ecdysiast, I didn't know that meant she was a strip tease artist."
Trying not to laugh, Sara had to know, "What did you think I meant."
Clearing his throat, his face felt hot, and he knew it was red, "Brass made me look it up… Turns out I got the word confused with a eunuch."
Laughing outright now, Sara held her side. "Oh Greg, did you say anything to the suspect."
"Just enough that Brass pulled me out and sent me here. If it helps, I don't think Eve had a clue." Greg finished.
Before Sara could continue, Nick was in the front of the room attempting to get everyone's attention. "Everyone, we have a card to present to the bossman."
Sara settled down in a nearby chair. She was beginning to feel light headed.
Grissom began opening the office card as he sipped his punch. After glancing at all the messages written in the generic card he opened the white envelope inside and smiled, "A year long pass to the stratosphere rollercoaster. This is great guys."
"You sacrifice a lot for us boss." Nick explained.
"If I had know, I would have become a watchmaker," he quoted, looking directly at Sara.
---/---
Cleaning up, Sara kicked something under the table. Looking down, she spotted an empty bottle of rum. Leaning over the punch bowl, she brought the serving spoon up to her nose and sniffed it, recognizing the smell of alcohol instantly. "Guess that's why everyone was so happy," she said to herself.
"Sara, can I see you in my office?" Grissom asked from behind her.
Nick's voice boomed loudly in the now empty room, "Damn War, you look hot in those jeans. Have you been working out."
Warrick helped his friend stand, "Nick, I'm going to pretend I never heard that."
Sara walked down the hallway, right behind Grissom. He had now changed into blue jeans, and looked very relaxed. Nick's sentiment echoed through her head.
Once inside the office, Grissom closed the door, and looked at the young brunette, "Sara, before…"
"It's ok Grissom, a slip of the tongue," she offered, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.
"It was," he confessed and watched her shoulders slump. "But that doesn't make it any less true."
She looked at him in surprise, and watched as he walked slowly up to her. His hand slid up her side gently.
"Grissom," she wanted to tell him the punch was spiked, that his inhibition may be compromised, but the feel of his hand on her neck stopped all rational thought.
"Shh," he instructed, and pulled her into a deep kiss.
Sara's hand moved to his cheek, and she deepened the kiss, allowing her tongue to dance around his.
Finally breaking apart, he leaned his forehead against hers.
"So you think of me naked huh?" she teased.
Chuckling softly, he brought her into a hug, "All the time."
Sara sighed, "Me too."
He kissed the top of her head, letting the simple fact that she was in his arms warm him to his soul.
"What now?" she asked afraid of his answer.
With out a word, Grissom released her, took her hand, and led her out of his office.
The End (Sorry Aus, it's a one shot)