A/N: In response to Forensicsfan's challenge at the Snicker's Yahoo group, I present to you this. It is odd, it is strange, it makes little sense, and…actually, I think that about covers it. Feel free to flame away, or review. Doesn't matter what type it is, as long as it is one. Enjoy!
Emily
Disclaimer: I own Stan, Midget, and Annie. The barn owns Slick, and some really rich people own CSI.
"She's never going to fall for this."
"Oh she'll fall for it all right."
"Is this my cue to play the evil plotting music?"
"Hm…think they make ring tones in that sound?"
"I'm sure they make that. It's on the same site that makes the green velvet cell phones."
"My cousin Stan has one of those."
"Stan?"
"Yeah, you know, the rapper? Stan Imdaman?"
"Never heard of him."
"You will, my friend. Oh yes, you will…"
"You have got to stop with that evil dictators voice. It is really creeping me out."
"Muahahaha."
"She is never going to fall for you."
"Oh who could resist this?"
"Resist what?"
"Well speak of the devil." Murmured Hodges, low enough so that only Greg could hear. Greg seemed to stand up straighter as Sara Sidle eyed both men with suspicion.
"Don't you have a case that you should be working on Greg?" she asked. The younger man shrugged.
"Freak accident involving a catapult and a curious twelve year old."
"Sounds painful"
"They say the kid won't suffer too much damage…" Greg quirked an eyebrow at the tall brunette.
"So…Sara…" But before he could continue, he was interrupted.
"Hey Sara, can you come here?" called Nick.
"Yeah. Sorry Greg. See you around?" Greg couldn't reply, for she was gone. He scowled at Hodges.
"She will be mine." He growled, eyes narrowing. "Oh yes…"
Hodges slowly backed away: It was never a good thing when Greg got that scary expression on his face, and he had to wonder just what the man was planning exactly.
Night fell early, for it was winter in Vegas, and the CSI's were leaving, tired, dirty, and hungry from a long shift, each headed for their respected homes. Well, almost all. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Sara and Nick were sharing a space, said space being Sara's apartment. It was, of course, a secret for many reasons, one of them being Grissom, another the uncertainty that both faced, for neither had had a serious relationship in some time.
Of course, throughout the four months of dating, these fears had all but dissipated, their relationship as strong as ever.
So evening found the pair unlocking Sara's apartment, pausing briefly to look at one another.
"The babies will not be happy about our being gone for so long." Nick stated. Sara grimaced.
"I can only imagine the state of things in there."
"On the count of three?"
"One"
"Two"
"Three" they said together, quickly pushing open the door and slamming it just as quickly behind them. As soon as they had made the motion, there was a flurry of movement from inside the apartment, and the soft patter of feet echoed through the halls as a large calico kitten and a small miniature dachshund came bounding through the halls. The kitten immediately bounded over to Sara (well, waddled), while the puppy trotted over to Nick.
"How's my baby girl? How's my widdle Annie-Bananaie?" he cooed to the puppy, who eagerly licked his face.
"Dear lord Slick, you have got to lose some weight" Sara said, heaving the oversized kitten up into her arms. The kitten merely regarded her with cool eyes, as though to say 'come again?' Nick snickered, and both kitten and girlfriend glared at him. "At least I'm not the one with the twenty pound miniature dachshund" she snapped.
"She's just muscular!"
"She's fat!"
"So is your kitten!" He accused. Slick hissed, unhappy with Nick's assessment of his body shape. Sara laughed.
"You do realize how ridiculous this is. We are fighting over our overweight animals."
"We could be doing something else." Nick said, putting the puppy down and wrapping an arm around Sara, pulling her closer to him. Their lips met, as they embraced. Slick hissed angrily, jumping out of his owner's arms and slinking off.
Neither Nick nor Sara noticed.
But while one couple passionately embraced, another pair stood arguing, one pleading with the other.
"Don't do this. Please man, have some dignity. I beg of you not to do this." Greg just smiled at Hodges as they sat in the car outside of Sara's apartment.
"Oh please, this is so romantic, she will not be able to resist. His eyes fluttered shut, as he thought about just what her reaction would be when he serenaded her outside her window…
She leaned out the window, eyes clouded with tears.
"Oh Greg!" She exclaimed. Quickly she raced down, falling into his arms.
"I love you Sara." He whispered huskily.
"Oh I love you!" and then their lips would meet, and the sparks would fly as music played.
Greg sighed in contentment.
"Oh Sara…" Hodges rolled his eyes, giving the man a wary glance before reaching down under his seat and pulling out a video camera. Greg looked at it, and then looked at Hodges in awe.
"What a wonderful idea! We can show this to little Mary-Sue and Stan!" He exclaimed. Hodges merely raised an eyebrow.
"Mary-Sue and Stan?"
"Our future kids." Hodges stifled a laugh.
"You do that man. I believe it you." Greg smiled, and then surprising Hodges, reached out to hug him.
"You can be the best man at our wedding!" Hodges bit his lip, for he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping himself from bursting out in laughter.
"I'll do that. Now go! Your lady awaits." Greg hopped out of the car, followed by Hodges. If Greg was going to insist of making a complete ass out of himself, well, there was no force on earth that could keep him from taping it.
Up in the apartment, things had quickly escalated from a simple kiss to…more. To be precise, there were now shirts, pants, and other assorted undergarments trailing to the couch. It was a situation that was picture perfect. That is until they were interrupted by a noise outside.
Someone was singing. Someone was singing loudly. Someone was singing loudly and badly. Someone sounded very familiar. Nick and Sara pulled apart, looking at each other for a moment before jumping up, throwing on the nearest article of clothing, and racing towards the window.
It was Greg. It was Greg singing. And if that was not bad enough, he was wearing tight pleather pants, and singing a romance ballad that they had never before heard.
"Ohhhhhhhhh Sara! You and I are like sandals! We belong togeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeettteeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrr! And I will worship youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" Nick backed up, clutching his sides as he exploded with laughter. Sara shook her head sadly, and then looked at her boyfriend (who was currently rolling on the floor, convulsing with peels of laughter. Greg was still at it, and she moved to open the window. Nick shook his head.
"No! Wait! Lets see how long until someone throws something at him!" He had finally been able to get up and off the floor, though tears streamed down his eyes. Sara playfully smacked him.
"Nick! That is not nice!"
"Well he's the idiot who decided to serenade you outside your window!" Sara considered that for a moment.
"True. But still! The poor man is going to be crushed when I tell him no. Or maybe I should go out with him…. I mean if he's willing to go through all that trouble for me…" This caused Nick's face to immediately form a frown.
Now, Nick Stokes was many things. He was a wonderful CSI, a good friend, and a good boyfriend. But Nick was also a very jealous man when it came to the woman he loved. And when someone came and threatened him, well, he could not just let said person get away with it. So he rolled up his sleeves, and stomped towards the door, only to be stopped by Sara.
"Nick…What are you doing?"
"Stopping him."
"Nick…"
"I'm not going to hurt him!" Whined the man. Sara gave him a dubious glance and he looked down. "Not too badly at least…"
"I'm coming with you, and I am talking to him first. Then you can talk, but no hurting him."
"Yes ma'am."
They arrived just in time to see Greg being doused by a bucket of water, the source undoubtedly an angry neighbor. This of course brought on a fresh fit of laughter from Nick, and a snort from Sara. Greg, now sopping wet, looked over, his face lighting up as he saw Sara.
"Sara!" He called, running towards her.
Oh how happy he was! There she was, like an angel, walking towards him, a golden aura surrounding him.
And then he hit a wall.
Actually, it was only Nick, but it might as well have been a wall, for it blocked him from his love. But slowly, very slowly, he looked up, and gulped nervously.
"Err…Nick. Could you, ah, move a bit mate?" Nick looked at him, his eyes narrowed.
"Nick…do not hurt him." There she was! His goddess, his angel. He smiled widely.
"Sara! You have come!" Sara shook her head.
"Oh Greg…"
Oh for so long had he yearned to hear those words from her lips! For so long had he dreamed of them, how they would flow from that sweet mouth. But something was not right. For she said them not in wanting, but in pity! A lump formed in the pit of his stomach. Oh he could not bare the rejection! Not from her.
"Greg…I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll go out with me!"
"She can't!" Snapped Nick. "She's my girlfriend." Greg looked at Sara for confirmation of this horrible fact. She merely nodded her head.
"I am so sorry Greg, but it's true."
"But…but Sara! We belong together. Its written in the stars!" Greg pleaded.
"Come again?"
"Me and you. It just fits. Our names go together."
"Just what are you talking about?" She asked.
"Sandal! Sanders and Sidle. Sandal! See, it fits. I mean, what do you and Nick make. Snickers?"
"I think I like Snickers a great deal more than I like Sandal's" Nick commented dryly. Sara rolled her eyes.
"Greg, I'm sorry. But I only think of you as a friend."
"But…but…" Now Nick walked over, casually throwing his arm around the other man in a sort of headlock.
"Greg…my man…I love you like a brother, but I swear to God that if you ever come near my girlfriend and attempt to woo her again, I will stick a Great Fluffy White on you." Despite the hurt, Greg couldn't help looking at him curiously.
"A Great Fluffy White?" Nick smiled mischievously.
"They are a mythical beast. At first glance, they resemble nothing more than a little white dog. But when they open their mouths, their fangs are revealed. Great long fangs, like a serpent. One bite and you are dead." Greg shivered in horror. He could imagine it all to well: Him being dragged by a Great Fluffy White while Nick looked on, cackling evilly.
"Come on man, let's go." Hodges had finally come out from the shadows, where he had been cracking up much like Nick had. Still, he felt some pity for his young friend; he had been so sure that he would get Sara. But if is assumption was correct (and judging by the closeness of Nick and Sara and the possessive gleam in Nick's eyes, it was), then Nick and Sara were together, and there was no way in hell Greg could compete with Nick Stokes, the man that all women, young and old, seemed to adore.
"Nick, Sara. Nice to see you. Thought you were just friends. Going to go now." He finished as Sara shot him her infamous glare.
"Oh, Greg, Hodges, do us a favor and keep this" and at this Nick motioned between Sara and himself, "a secret."
"Sure thing. Good luck." This, of course, came from Hodges, who was already wondering just how much he could get for this tape on ebay. Hell, he bet that people at the lab would pay good money for to see Greg make a complete fool of himself and to learn that Nick and Sara were dating. Hmmm…where would be the best place to put fliers for the tape, somewhere where everyone but Nick, Sara, and Greg would see…
He shook his head. Bad thoughts! His friend was hurting and he was thinking of the best way to make money from his friend's pain.
"Come on man, let's get you home." He kindly told his rejected friend. He drove Greg home, dropping him off and pulling away, with the promise that he would be back in a few minutes; he just had to pick up some things from the store.
True to his word, twenty minutes later he let himself into Greg's apartment, only to find the young CSI lying on the couch where he had left him. Greg lifted his head.
"What do you have?" He inquired as he heard the rustle of bags being unpacked.
"Everything needed for a broken heart." Responded Hodges.
"Huh?"
"When woman get broken hearts, the require a few necessities. Chick flicks, ice cream, and copious amounts of chocolate. But us men require only two things."
"What?"
"Copious amounts of alcohol and chocolate." Said Hodges, lifting out a twelve-pack of beer and a large candy bar. Sitting down on the opposite couch, he handed the supplied to Greg, who looked at him suspiciously.
"How do you know so much about this?" Hodges shrugged.
"Well, I have a younger sister, Midget."
"Your parents named your sister Midget?"
"No, they named her Lauren. But we called her Midget because she was short."
"Huh. Go on."
"Well, we sold her to the Siberian Circus when I was younger, as a sideshow act. She also got to ride in the clown car once in a while, and when one of the clowns was sick, she'd take their place. Anyways, she fell in love while there, with a clown named BoBé. But then they had to sell her back to us, because of some budget cuts. You know how it goes. Broke her heart to be torn away from BoBé. That's how I know all of this."
"Wow. So what happened to her?"
"When she turned eighteen, she ran off and eloped with BoBé. She now headlines at the Siberian Circus with her One-man act of The Wizard Of Oz."
"I don't believe you."
"Here! I have a postcard from her, right in my pocket. He pulled out a postcard and handed it to Greg, who examined it. It had a picture of a woman on the front, standing with a clown and holding a baby with a red nose and oversized shoes. It read 'Greetings from the Siberian Circus!'
"Wow."
So, for some, nights in Vegas are the setting for a lovers tryst. Some work murders, and some commit them. Still some find themselves in an apartment, consuming copious amounts of alcohol and chocolate, broken hearted and alone.
It's just another night in Vegas.
A/N: When I told you it was odd, I was not kidding! A quick note on some references. Slick is actually a cat at the barn that I ride at. He is not at all fat. Actually, he is really quite fit. He wondered up to the barn as a stray kitten a few years back, saw that he could get food and shelter, and decided to make it his home. Annie is my miniature dachshund. She is overweight, weighing twenty plus pounds. She should weigh between twelve and thirteen, I believe. The Siberian Circus, Midget, and BoBé are all parts of a joke between my sister Midget and I. Don't ask. Hope you were…entertained.
Emily