Rating: T (Mildly suggestive themes)

Spoilers: None

Disclaimers: No animals, stuffed or living, were hurt in the making of this story.

Author's Note: Written in response to the Unbound Challenge from 19 Sep 2005.

It's All Just Monkey Business

by Lapsus Stili

Grissom had never seen a stuffed toy do that before.

Lined up along the shelves behind the shop counter were dozens of plush monkeys that were far from innocent toys. The sign above them stated "Barney Bonobo available here – own your own dirty monkey for only $11.95!" Each of these vile things sported a grand erection that would make even the Gods jealous, and when you wound them up, their fuzzy arms happily flew up and down in an act of self-gratification.

Wincing in disgust, Grissom turned around to find a slack-jawed Warrick eyeing a larger-than-life statue of what looked like the Virgin Mary in a far-from-virgin position in the corner of the room.

"That's just so wrong, Griss, even for Vegas."

With a shake of his head, the older man sighed and snapped open the case at his feet, drawing out a pair of gloves. "Let's just get started so we can get out of here as soon as possible, alright?"

"I'm with you on that," Warrick replied, grabbing the sketch pad and pencil from his vest pocket. "Hey, where's Sara?"

Before Grissom could respond, his brown-haired girl came waltzing through the door. Both men turned. While Warrick hailed her with a "There you are," before returning to his task, Grissom took her in from head to toe in silence. Tonight she was decked out in a snug pair of hip-hugging black jeans and a tie-dyed V-neck tee in shades of blue. As much as he loved how the fabric clung to her torso, making him pop a light sweat, he frowned when he noticed that the one thing she really should have been wearing over that awesome body was instead dangling from her left hand.

Without thinking, he blurted, "I'm glad to see that you're protecting your hand from bullets at the moment, but I think that would be far more helpful if you were actually wearing it, Sara." When her bright smile faded, he instantly regretted his blunderous opener. Dammit. So much for chivalry… He knelt down to fish out his dusting powder and brush.

"And a good evening to you too," was her retort. She dropped her case with a punctuating thud, then swung the vest up and around behind her, easily sliding her arms through the holes in one smooth action. In that brief move, the hem of her shirt lifted to show a few precious inches of her flat tummy. It was all Grissom could do not to gasp aloud when he saw this from the corner of his eye. Breathe Gil, just breathe... in and out… that's it…

As she was zipping up, she defended herself. "You know, I wasn't planning on carrying it around all night, I was just in a hurry to get in here to help you out on my night off."

The emphasis she placed on the last part of her statement effectively landed the figurative "cuff upside the head" that she intended, and Grissom nodded his head in submission. Just as Sara took a breath to continue her lashing, her surroundings finally registered on her. Dumbfounded, she spun a full 360 degrees taking in the shocking array.

She pointed and cocked her head to one side. "Um… guys… is that a bin of penis-shaped whoopee cushions over there? Tell me how that is supposed to be a turn-on?"

Despite appreciating the reprieve from his verbal faux-pas, Grissom was not so thrilled about discussing the fetish shop's contents instead. Though he knew of these things only in an academic way, he was still embarrassed to be recounting his knowledge of them in Sara's presence.

"I do believe it is," he replied as calmly as he could, blushing madly. "I guess they're looking to appeal to eproctophiliacs, and from those quantities, it looks like there's a fair demand for them."

Warrick snickered at this last comment. Sara, however, simply stared back at Grissom.

"You don't actually mean that… that..." She was so stunned that she couldn't finish.

"Don't worry Sara, I'm equally at a loss as to how flatulation could possibly be arousing," he shrugged.

Their coworker finally laughed out loud from across the room. "Man, you have got to be kidding me," he continued chuckling, "Farts?"

Picking up one of the offensive items, he gave it a good squeeze. A resounding plllllttttttt bubbled from the rubber gadget, and both he and Sara cackled in hysterics.

"Please, can we just get on with things?" Grissom pleaded. "I'd like to get back to the lab before day-break if possible."

Grabbing her camera, Sara settled down and began photographing the area where the body had been found, including a bloodied pair of fake ceramic fangs that were on the floor by the rack of Pregnant Patty blow-up dolls. Noticing what she had discovered, Warrick then snagged the possible murder weapon with a pair of forceps and lifted them for Grissom to see.

"What do you think, boss? Could our vic have been bitten to death?"

Looking up from the counter where he was lifting a print from a dildo that was carved into a fist and forearm, Grissom squinted at their find.

"Maybe. Perhaps she had odaxelagnia and things got out of hand with her partner after she closed up shop for the night," he theorized.

From the looks on their faces, it was obvious his team was waiting for a definition. He explained himself further. "Some people get off on having someone bite them."

The amused brunette just shook her head, ever amazed at how much trivia just oozed from this man. "You must love to be able to shock everyone with your never-ending arsenal of information."

Blushing once again, Grissom turned away. With Warrick busy scraping some unknown substance from the wall in the corner, Sara took the opportunity to admire her supervisor's posterior, which was looking rather fine this evening in his new khakis. Hmmm, very nice indeed! After a slight hesitation, he spoke over his shoulder.

"It's overrated."