2. The Bet
Greg was slurring his speech, trying to stand in between Warrick and Catherine. They each had an arm around his waist to steady him, their fingers involuntarily entwined. Catherine had seen a lot more of Warrick the past few weeks. He and Tina had decided to file for divorce. Well, Tina had, but he had yet to admit it out loud. She couldn't handle his "not being available" for her; her time schedule was of the utmost importance, however, not up for debate, no room for compromise.
Warrick had spent time with Catherine off shift, helped Lindsay with homework a few times, slept on the couch a night or two when he was too drunk to get into his house, forgot his keys, he said. Truth was that Tina had taken his keys, still in his pants pocket, to the dry cleaners, despite him telling her to leave them put, that he would do it tomorrow, after he'd gotten some rest. That was one of their problems right from the start, he noticed: a major short in their lines of communication. He heard but forgot. She listened, but didn't hear. He was so pissed that he got drunk instead of driving to Tina's work to get her keys, wound up outside Catherine's door.
They fought about anything and everything. Warrick was tired a lot, rarely smiled. Had fun even less. Tonight was the first night in who knows how long that he actually laughed, enjoyed himself.
"C'mon, man, you can't be serious."
Greg staggered into him.
"I s-s-s-wear, it's true."
"Alright, Greg. Let's go, buddy," Nick said, wrapping Greg's arm around his shoulder and helping him outside.
He mumbled goodbyes and waved as Nick helped him into the taxi, gave the cabbie his address and cab fair, shut the door and went back inside.
Sara slid her arm around his waist when he got back to the bar. He kissed her on the top of her head and Warrick handed him another beer.
They were sitting, now, their knees touching. Catherine had another shot, Warrick another beer. The group stopped glancing toward the dark corner to where Grissom was; almost forgot he was there entirely.
"There is a man who cannot hold his alcohol," Warrick said, shaking his head as he took a drink of beer, and Sara laughed.
"He drinks too fast."
"Well who'd wanna drink slow?" Catherine said, walking away, headed for the jukebox, and Warrick glanced at her.
Nick took Sara's hand, pulled her off the bar stool and sat down, pulled her onto his lap, watched Warrick.
"When's your divorce hearing?"
Warrick sighed.
"I don't know. Next week, I think." He scoffed. "No love lost, not much gained, anyway," he said, his eyes reverting to Catherine, clad in tight jeans, black high heels, and a sparkly red halter top.
"Looks like maybe some love's been gained," Sara chimed, and Nick grinned, nodded his head in agreement.
"What? Me and Cath?" He rolled his eyes, feigning disinterest.
"Just friends."
"Friends don't look at each other the way you two do," Nick said.
Atlanta Rhythm Section's I Am So Into You, Catherine's choice, blared throughout the night club and Warrick used it as a means of avoiding the conversation.
He guzzled the last of his beer, clapped his hands and strutted towards Catherine. She cackled when he took her into his arms and they began dancing, and Nick shook his head.
"Just friends," Sara repeated. She and Nick watched Warrick and Catherine dance.
"Yep," Nick said finally, and Sara grinned.
"Oh yeah." She finished her beer and ordered another round for everyone.
A dance mix followed, and Warrick and Catherine grinded against one another on the dance floor, oblivious to anything and everyone.
"They're practically having sex," Sara said.
Nick chuckled.
"I bet you by the end of the night that those two will be in bed together."
"Or in an alleyway someplace," Nick added, and Sara laughed.
"I think I'll take you up on that bet," she said, and Nick raised an eyebrow.
"You serious?"
"Yep."
He took out his wallet.
"Okay, Sidle. How much?"
"Oh, I don't wanna play for money," she said, a seductive grin across her face. She slid her hand behind her and down Nick's stomach.
He cleared his throat.
"What are we playing for, exactly?"
Sara grinned.
Across the room, in a darkened corner, a shadowy figure stood and exited the night club unseen.