Alex just stands there and stares for another fraction of a second before he takes her hand and gives it a shake that looks more like a caress to me. "Alex Cane," he says. "Nice to meet you."

Sara grins. "Likewise, I'm sure," she intones grandly - with barely any sarcasm in her voice, I note!

"Emily Milan," says the blonde. "Are you one of the Las Vegas people?"

"Yep, I'm here with..." She pauses, looks around for a second, spots me. "...with Gil. We're both from the LVPD crime lab."

Well, I'm gratified that she at least hasn't forgotten me. Feeling like I'm supposed to say something, I just nod definitively.

Emily widens her eyes and looks admiringly at Sara. "God, I'm jealous. You guys must get such exciting work out there. I'm from East Bumblefuck, New Jersey, and I'm lucky if I can even get a robbery in that town!"

"Metro work isn't nearly as great as it sounds from a distance," Alex cuts in just as I'm starting to enjoy watching the two beautiful women chat. "Blood's damn hard to get out of your clothes."

Everyone does the polite group-chuckle in response to this, and I'm reminded of why I hate small talk. I consider offering my own opinion - I'm a firm believer that the wider the variety of cases, the better it makes CSIs - and then decide that once I join the conversation, I'll be expected to continue with it...which is not one of my talents.

"Oh, I don't know," Sara says. "A little bleach and some lemon juice will do it, and Grissom - Gil - is always saying that it's better to work the widest variety of cases you can get. Right?" She had been standing toward the center of the knot of people, and as she mentions me she takes a step back, returning to her initial position next to me. She touches my arm lightly and looks at me, waiting. This is clearly her attempt to pass me the conversational ball.

I make a mental note to get back at her for this. Then I steal a look at the exposed skin on her left side. "Exactly," I reply with my best people-person smile. "You read my mind."

She rolls her eyes. "Like that's anything new."

"You guys have worked together a long time?" Sharon asks, looking first to me and then Sara.

"A few -" I begin, but am cut off by Sara.

"Years," she says, somehow managing to make the same information sound much more intriguing. "Since I started in the field."

Well, true. I smile, remembering something I can add. "Since before that, Sara - remember that 'special topics' class I taught?"

She laughs. "Can't forget that one! I never thought staying after class with the teacher could be so..." Her voice trails off.

I can imagine her internal monologue: Oh god, I didn't just say that, did I? In front of eight complete strangers who I may have to work with in a professional capacity? And in front of GRISSOM?

Gallantly deciding to give her what assistance I can, I finish her thought as innocuously as I can: "...could be so boring?"

She smiles and I feel her squeeze my arm, silently communicating her thanks for the rescue. "Exactly what I meant to say." Shifting her attention back to the group, she fans her hand at her face. "Phew, it's hot in here, isn't it? Grissom, come grab a drink with me?"

I'm about to decline - it would be such an obvious retreat after what just happened - but change my mind when Alex pipes up, "What did you want, Sara? I'll get it."

Ignoring his response, I grab Sara's hand and pull her away from the rest of the people. "Yeah, too hot," I say. "We'll see you all later," I add, looking back at the group.

She allows me to tow her behind me for a few feet, then takes an extra-large step to catch up with me as we head for the bar. "Thanks," she whispers. "I was running out of non-embarrassing conversation." I snort, and she looks at me, adding, "That bit about school sounded really bad, didn't it." It's not a question.

I pause, considering lying. "Well...yeah."

"Argh! This is why I am not a people person! Why aren't you complaining, anyway? You like small talk even less than me."

"My mind was otherwise occupied." Ack. That just slipped out. Now she's going to ask...

"Occupied by what?"

I cough. "Um."

She raises an eyebrow. "Grissom?"

I can't think of an escape route. Oh, screw it. "I was trying to figure out how you get that top to stay on."

She stops walking and stares at me. I'm not entirely an idiot - yet - and so I keep my mouth shut, just smiling at her as though I haven't said anything out of the ordinary. She waits another second, then shakes her head and resumes walking. "You really need to work on conversational continuity, you know that?"

"Huh?" I look blankly at her.

"Every now and then, you'll be talking normally, and then out of your mouth pops some complete non sequitur: 'beauty,' a discussion of my clothing..."

"You know I'm bad at conversation."

As we belly up to the bar, she glances at me again, looking amused. "Yeah, I know."

Later in the evening, I've lost sight of Sara, so when Sharon tries to pull me aside, I allow it. "So?" she says expectantly.

" 'So' what?"

" 'So'...you and Sara seem to be getting along well."

Oh no. Please don't let this be female jealousy. I can't handle that, not tonight. "Yes," I say, trying to sound as noncommittal as possible.

"Well that's good, right?" She looks at me expectantly. "You've been trying to keep her attention all night, so I figured you'd think it was a good thing that she's doing the same."

"Oh. Well...yeah." That was less than brilliant, but I'm not sure what my lines are in this script.

She knuckles my shoulder playfully. "Come on, lighten up! I'm trying to make you smile."

Getting nervous now, I ask, "Are you...drunk?"

"Nah, not really."

She's not helping. "Look, Sharon...if you're, uh...trying to...that is..." I stop. This isn't coming out well.

She's quiet for a second, looking confused, and then her face brightens. "Oh my god, you think I'm hitting on you!"

Actively looking for any escape now, I check my peripheral vision for a path that's clear of people. "I don't..."

"You do!" She grins. "Calm down, really. I'm not trying to pick you up. What I was trying to do - though it doesn't seem to have worked too well - was encourage you to make a move with your friend over there." She gestures to the left and I see that she's pointing at Sara, who seems to be deep in conversation with a man about her age. And he's handsome, I note with annoyance.

I let out a sigh of relief, immediately followed by a shallow groan of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I just assumed..."

"Obviously." She shrugs. "It's ok. You're clearly not used to this sort of thing to begin with. So, back to the subject at hand - what's your plan with Sara?"

"I don't have a plan, Sharon. I'm operating second-to-second now, just hoping to get through the night without any disasters."

"I guess you have to start somewhere. But honestly - if you want my opinion..."

"I don't recall asking for it."

"...then," she continues, ignoring me, "I'd say that she's interested. Hey, you're on vacation, take the risk!"

I can't decide what's more frightening - Sharon trying to hit on me, or Sharon trying to plot with me. "It's more complicated than that," I begin.

"Whoops!" she says, a grin spreading across her face. "Incoming CSI, two o'clock."

I'm about to turn around to see what she's talking about, but before I get around to it, Sara appears at my side and slides her arm around my waist. "Why, Sharon!" she says. "Fancy running into you again!"

I wince. Sara's pressing up against me and Sharon's got a wicked look in her eyes that makes me want to haul ass out of firing range. "Hi, Sara," I manage. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Well, things just got a little more interesting," she says, smirking. "Can I talk to you, Grissom?"

Not good. "Suuure," I say slowly, trying to come up with a way out of it.

"I don't bite," Sara chirps. "Come on."

Sharon, obviously barely holding back her laughter, adds, "Yeah Gil, give the girl what she wants."

Sara's smirk changes into a scowl and she tugs on my arm. "Come on."

I obediently follow.

"What are you up to?" she blurts once she has me in the warm air outside the hotel, away from the crowd. "You spent almost the whole night closeted with your friend Sharon."

"Not really," I point out. "This was the first time I got to talk to her since you introduced yourself n the beginning."

She leans against the rough brick wall and I'm suddenly back to wondering how her shirt stays on. Sara's odd behavior now seems less interesting than it did a minute ago.

"You having fun in there?" Sara asks, unaware of my train of thought.

I shrug. "It's not as bad as it could be. I've been with much less entertaining crowds."

Relaxing a little more, she nods. "Yeah, true. I'm getting tired, though."

She stops there and seems to be waiting for me to say something. "It's not that late..." I attempt cautiously, looking at my watch.

She draws in a disapproving breath and purses her lips. "I didn't know you were such a party guy."

Ok, that was apparently the wrong answer. I try again: "Were you going to go to bed, then?"

"Not sure...I was thinking I'd just relax, take a bath or something."

She has got to know she's tantalizing me. I try not to let it show. "A bath," I echo as neutrally as I can.

She nods. "So were you...going to stay?"

I think I see the light. Let's see, how do I phrase my answer... "Well," I venture, "now that you mention it, I'm starting to feel my lack of sleep, too."

A small smile creeps across her face. "Interesting. Must be jet lag hitting us both, huh?"

Jet lag? A day late? Right. "Must be," I agree. I hold out my arm to her. "Shall we?"

"Indeed."

The ride up to our room in the elevator is tense. I'm totally at sea with regard to what I'm supposed to be doing and/or saying now. I settle for watching Sara.

She's standing against the far wall of the elevator car, back pressed against it and hands tapping the metal nervously, looking lost in thought. As I'm studying her, she glances up and catches me looking; she just smiles at me and reaches one hand up to play with her hair. Well, technically not "play" - I think she's trying to pin it more securely - but it's all the same to me, observing.

The elevator jerks to a stop with a cheerful ding and as the doors open, I say, "Ladies first."

I trail behind her down the hallway and almost knock her over when she stops abruptly in front of my door. "Got your key?" At my questioning look, she looks down at her outfit and says sheepishly, "Nowhere to put mine in this thing."

Like I need to be reminded!

I fish my key card from my pocket and hold it up. "I've got it covered." I let us both into my room and Sara disappears through the adjoining door as I turn to empty my pockets onto my nightstand. She doesn't shut it behind her, and I can hear miscellaneous noises as she unzips her suitcase, runs water in the sink, and kicks off her shoes. Settling-in noises, I think as I pull off my own shoes and socks and relax on top of the bed.

A few minutes later, she knocks gently on the doorframe and one of her feet appears over the threshold. "Gris?"

I look up at her from my crossword puzzle, sit up, and give her what I hope is a charming smile. "Yes? You need something?"

She takes another step into the room, just looking at me.

This makes me nervous. Beyond nervous. It makes me remember what Sharon said about making the move and taking a risk.

She keeps looking at me.

"Sara?" I prompt, trying not to let my voice communicate my agitation.

"Yeah." Another step into the room. She looks behind her - at her empty room, as far as I can tell - and then quietly shuts the door. The amount of space in the room hasn't decreased, so why do I feel like it's suddenly very small?

Needing to do something, I shift positions again so that I'm now sitting on the edge of the bed instead of in the middle of it. Something is happening. Or going to happen. Or something like that.

I'm just not sure what.

"So..." she begins again. One hand moves up to the nape of her neck and she toys with something - her necklace? Her shirt?

"Yes?" I try one more time.

She backs up a few steps until she has her back against the wall. Or rather, it would be against the wall if my dresser didn't protrude a few feet. As it is, it's more like she has her hips against the dresser and her back against nothing.

"Grissom?" she says, snapping her fingers to get my wandering attention. I nod and raise my eyebrows encouragingly, waiting for her to spit it out.

Finally, she expels a deep breath, drops her chin against her chest and stands still for a long moment. Just as I'm getting ready to say something, she seems to make a decision and raises her head back up. A tentative smile is spreading across her face.

"So..." she says, but this time doesn't stop there. "You wanted to know how my shirt stays on?"

My jaw drops and I gape at her.