A/N: Damn... When I posted, I came back the next morning and saw nine reviewers just sitting there like WHA-BAM! I hadn't even gotten to read them and I was already up the walls. And it was even worse when I actually read them. Hmm... If that's the reaction I get for posting after a long wait, maybe I should do it more often... /Mischievous smile/

Disclaimer: Hmph. Rawr.

Chapter 12: Dude

Brooke's POV:

As I checked over my shoulder, I saw Grissom leading my sister out to the dance floor and begin to waltz, but at a much slower pace than I had set for her originally. Another step closer to breaking off his relationship with that "demon from the deep" I now knew formally as Heather. After our first true encounter on the dance floor, it was more than apparent that neither of us would have a taste for each other. That doesn't go to say that I didn't provoke her into pissing me off to some degree, but still.

Flashback

"Phew, damn is he fine, huh?" I questioned the leather clad woman beside me.

"Listen, I don't know you or your friend over there," She threw a nod in the general direction of Sara. "but you both had better stay away from Gil's and mine relationship."

"Oh, is that a threat, Miss Thang?Because... I'm not the kinda person to step down to threats." I informed the woman who seemed to be wearing a blank mask, showing no emotion, while getting less than two feet in front of the woman in a threatening fashion.

Hmm... Maybe if I distract her by making her think that I'm the one after her boyfriend instead of Sara, maybe then I could slip Sara in with less difficulty. I problem solved in my head, already formulating a master plan in my head.

"And I'm not the kind of person to submit to intimidation." She spoke back in an even voice that pissed me off just listening to it. "So you can relay this message to your friend and keep it in mind for yourself for future reference. Gil is mine and he loves me. Not either of you. So please don't bother with it, because it truly will be futile." Still, not a single flash of emotion reached her face, except for her eyes, where a dangerous flash of anger showed for a moment or two before dying down again.

And just as I took another step to get further into the woman's personal space, the familiar whistling beginning blared through the hall, signifying the song I'd requested had started. Move Bitch by Ludacris. And as they say, music moves people. It was only a matter of moments until I had turned so my back faced her, back flipped and used her shoulders to vault behind her to complete the flip. After that, it was safe to say I let the music influence my moves with what I knew as Crunk Dancing.

But at one point, I felt a tap and turned around to see one of the last people try and compete with me for dancing in this style. Sara...

End of Flashback

And thought I'd never tell her, she did pretty damn good even thought she did seem like a psychotic white girl without her meds. But hey! That's what Crunk is about – letting go and being free with your dance moves.

Now, it was safe to say that I had Heather's eye mainly on me now since I "posed a threat" as some would put it. It's all going according to plan.

Sitting down at the bar, I paid little to no attention to anyone around me. I didn't particularly care at this moment because I was just regarding everyone as people. I didn't want to think of them as cops, lest another panic attack fall onto my shoulders. Besides, who actually sees cops trying to dance besides on Reno 911? Precisely.

That's why I hadn't realized that I'd seated myself next to a trap.

Looking beside me, I noticed the balding detective staring deep into his scotch as if it held the answers to the world. He seemed oblivious to my presence. And however stupid it was on my part, the shock of the sight made me jump and curse instead of getting out of my seat quietly and moving away. And as I tried to spin out of my seat and make my get away, the detective's hand flew out to grasp my shirt and pull me back into my seat with the same force he'd used to handcuff me to his grill. My heart thumped at an unhealthily rapid rate as he drew me close to him so he could talk to me without the people surrounding us to hear.

"Don't create a scene for yourself and I won't either." He whispered to me as he slowly let go of my shirt when he knew I was planted to my seat – out of the panic that was seizing me again.

As he returned to my seat, I sat uncomfortably in my seat next to him, unsure of why he would want me to remain seated next him. "You know, if this is about your grill... Man, I can get you it back. It's right in my basement. I'll even put it back on for free, man." I began to ramble out to the man due to my nervousness and desperateness to get out of this situation.

"That's not my original thought, but thank you. Now that you've mentioned it, I have been getting strange looks from people about part of my car missing." A sarcastic tone came from the man as he took a sip of his scotch. "But I'm mainly concerned about Sara. Whatever it is that you're into, you better not drag Sara down with you."

Realizing the genuine concern this man had for my sister, I began to loosen up knowing that this was someone that cared for Sara almost as much as I did. "Trust me, there's nothing I'm involved in that would hurt Sara professionally. And even if I was, I wouldn't dream of doing it. I've known Sara for a very long time and have looked out for her like my flesh and blood. Getting her involved with something that would hurt her is the last thing on my agenda." I responded, speaking the truth without revealing anything.

What I'm doing is legit, somewhat. I said to myself.

Staring over just in time, I saw the man give me a very skeptical look. A look of distrust.

"Have I given you anything to suggest that I might want to hurt Sara in anyway?" I questioned him then.

"Not directly." He replied, the look of distrust never leaving his eyes.

"Have you found anything criminal against me?" I raised another answer.

"I haven't done a background check on you yet, so I can't tell you." The detective – who I believed was named Jim Brass – continued to reply.

"Well, you do that. Name: Brooklyn Marie Waters. I'm clean on my record." I was now thankful for the deal that I'd struck months ago now as I offered him to do a background check on me.

A silent moment passed between Jim and myself before he surprised me with a pat on the back. Laughing nervously for the sake of trying to loosen up, I suddenly began to feel better and much more like myself as he gave a deep laugh of his own.

"All right. Since I didn't even find anything in that building you were peeking in, I suppose you're fine in my book." What! How did those guys cover up that good for him not to even find anything against them! Was all I could think as he said that. "I was just seeing what your reaction would be. It's an interrogation tactic. Pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely professional." I added a laugh to cover up the nervousness I'd felt for thinking he'd figured out the part of me I couldn't afford anyone to know. The secret me.

"Well, hey... It is my job." He said proudly. "So, are you old enough to drink yet?" He questioned with a lasting glance at me.

"Hmph... I'm old enough to do more things than you've ever dreamed of." I replied wittily as I sat back and allowed him to buy me the Hennessey that I asked for.

A'ight... So they're not all bad. I decided as I sipped my drink and casually talked to Jim as if we'd been the best of friend since the twelfth of never.

Sara's POV:

As the song gradually came to a close, Grissom and I pulled back simultaneously to give each other a satisfactory nod and glance at a job well done on the dance. I looked around as the rest of the dancing couples broke apart and went back to their respective seats or continued to stand on the floor, awaiting the next song to play. That's why I had to catch up to Grissom as he went back to his lonesome chair near the balcony door.

Taking a silent seat beside him, I finally recognized the awkwardness in this entire situation. And as if the tenseness couldn't be added on like peanut butter to a sandwich, the DJ had to acknowledge us over the microphone.

"Great job out there, y'all. Especially you two over there with that waltzing!" Just then, a large spotlight concentrated on Grissom and myself, questioning eyes staring at the both of us from the floor and the other seats. "That's what I'm talking about guys! But now we're back to the regular dancing."

Awkwardness became my worse enemy right then and there.

"You dance well to the waltz." Grissom complimented as he broke the silence for the first time in five minutes of silence, already gone through one of the songs played.

"You surprised me too. Who taught you to dance like that?" I figured the only way to beat the awkwardness was to post out questions.

"My Mother and close friend of my Mother." Grissom replied with a small smirk gracing his face. "It took a lot of effort just to initially agree to the amateur lessons, and even more of an effort to get me to actually dance properly. It literally took a month of practice just to get one of the easiest waltzes perfectly, and they had me practicing daily." He shook his head in amusement, as I did the same.

"I bet you weren't too happy with that. Cut into your time with your bugs, right?" I joked, thinking of the intense obsession a young Gil Grissom must've had with insects and entomology.

"You're right actually. But I think that my Mother and her friend actually thought I'd go to my high school prom when I was older." Said Grissom with a small chuckle.

"Well, I have that woman over there to thank for even being able to dance to begin with." I said as I indicated a now dancing Brooke out dancing Catherine.

"I take it you've known her for a while." Grissom stated as a matter-of-factly.

"For a very long time." I stressed.

For a moment, I saw Brooke stare over at us nonchalantly – as if she didn't even notice us – and then double looked as her movements halted completely. She'd seen us – the both of us – glancing at her and now she would feel the need to investigate. Just great.

"A'ight, who talking 'bout me? Whatever I did, I didn't do it!" Brooke jumped over the back of the seat next to me to sit in it, shoving her hands up defensively.

"Grissom, this is my best friend, Brooke Waters." I introduced, knowing he would recognize the name almost instantly. "Brooke, this is my boss, Gil Grissom. Most people call him Grissom or Griss though."

There was a moment of silence as Grissom seemed shocked at the name and face of my sister, but it went by so quickly that I thought I'd imagined it. "I take it then, that you're the friend that paid for Sara's new car." Grissom stated upon shaking Brooke's hand.

"One and only Brooklyn Waters. I had cash to spare and Sizzle was in a jam." Brooke said with one of her shrugs.

With raised eyebrows, he looked from Brooke to me several times. "You refer to Sara as 'Sizzle'?"

"Yeah!" Brooke drew out the word with emphasis. "This be my Sizzle B. right here! This be my OG from the BKNY!"

Drawing my face into my cupped hands to conceal view from Grissom about my embarrassment, it only grew as Brooke threw an arm around my shoulders and yanked my head out of my hiding spot. This was my professional life outside of work from someone from the past. I now knew that when the two collided, to be wary.

"I have no idea what you just said." Grissom said in complete confusion as I expected him to have.

As I tried to step in and say that it was a long story, Brooke cut me to the chase. "She's ain't never told you 'bout the BK days? 'Bout the crazy things we used to do as kids? Sizz! C'mon! Those are the best years!" Brooke said in absolute disappointment.

"Crazy things? Sara? What did I miss?" Greg's voice sounded from somewhere behind us.

Taking a seat next to Brooke, Greg smiled and nodded in acknowledgment of Grissom, Brooke, and myself at the table with a lingering gaze on Brooke. "We were never properly met. Greg Sanders, but you can call me whatever you like."

"Fo sho, lil' G." Why Brooke felt the need to resort back to her childhood state of mind – her New York state of mind – was unknown to me until I finally smelled the Hennessey on her breath in full force. Brooke's drink of choice.

"Greg, what happened to that woman you were getting 'acquainted' with?" I inquired as soon as I realized the flirtation in Greg's gaze toward Brooke.

"Things were going great... Until I met her boyfriend." Greg's voice dropped with his head in discouragement.

"Oo, poor Greg. Burned, huh?" Catherine's voice also entered the conversation as she joined the table next to Greg.

"Tell me about it. She could've warned me before he came up with those trees for arms and grabbed my shoulder like that." Greg massaged his right shoulder tenderly. "Threw me away like a bouncer."

"Who? Where? I'ma go holla at him." Brooke said, standing up and looking around the crowd for the man matching Greg's description.

Pulling her back down to her seat by her front pocket in her jeans, I keep her there until she settles back in. "No you won't."

"So what are you guys talking about over here? I saw you and Gil dancing out there! You were made me look like an amateur on the dance floor!" Catherine said happily as she looked from me to Grissom.

"Yeah, I didn't expect to see you waltzing, Sara. That was strange." Greg chimed in, teasing with me.

"Oh, c'mon! Who couldn't see them cutting up that dance floor?" The deep voice of Warrick Brown resonated well over the bass of the song. "Even Nick could see it over his temporary date, right Nicky?"

"Hey... We're mutual acquaintances." The Texan accent could be heard as the two men came to sit at the table, Warrick seated next to Catherine while Nick was a seat away from Grissom.

"Well, now it almost a party." Brooke remarked as she leaned back in her seat. "All we need is my boy JB over here."

"JB?" Warrick asked with scrunched eyebrows.

"Yeah! Jimmy Brass! JB! Hey, here he comes!" Brooke said with a grin as she turned her head back just enough to see the approaching Brass enter our table next to Grissom.

"Already on nickname basis, are we Jim?" Grissom asked with mirth in the question itself.

"Hey, what can I say? I bought her a drink and now she's stuck to me like a puppy." Brass shrugged as he took a sip of his scotch that he'd brought over from the bar. "Oh, hey Brooke." He teased lightly as if just taking in her presence.

"Ha... ha. Aren't you just the white brother to the Wayan's family?" Brooke said sarcastically as she stuck her tongue out childishly at Brass.

And the conversation just started from there. It was simplest just to say that Grissom and I held very little part in the conversation while we just sat back and laughed as Brooke interacted with our team in front of us. The great thing about Brooke, she could get along with almost anyone and my lab friends were well included. But all conversation came to an abrupt halt as soon as a certain song played throughout the hall.

"This is my JAM! C'mon y'all! Let's go dance!" Brooke insisted as she got to her feet immediately, ditching the in depth conversation about what the word "dude" actually meant.

Some disagreed more argumentatively than the rest, such as Brass and Greg, but no one could argue that Grissom and I took the most stubborn to dance award. It wasn't that I didn't want to dance, but I didn't want to dance like I knew Brooke would want me to – especially around Grissom.

"I don't know how to dance to this music." Was Grissom excuse as Brooke actually began to tug on Grissom's arm to get up, as well as mine.

"Then get Sara to teach you. She knows how to dance like this real well." Brooke said mischievously as she produced enough strength to gradually – yet slowly – raise Grissom and myself out of our seats even though we were pulling back at the same time.

"Brooke!" I cried out as she finally sent me flying out of my seat.

"One dance! C'mon! Cath and Warrick are already out there! And I'm 'bout to take three on one with Nick, Lil' G, and JB. You two hafta dance! I'll show y'all the basic steps but then it's all you." With one more forceful tug, Grissom came out of his seat in a more graceful way that I had falling out of my seat. "C'mon, before the song ends!"

After gathering everyone in a circle, Brooke waited patiently for the chorus to roll around so she could instruct everyone how to dance.

Bounce wit it,
Putting our arms together at the wrists, we were informed to shrug our shoulders, one time slightly and then the second time drop them significantly.
Drop wit it,
Directly after the bouncing, we had to drop all the way down to the floor with our wrists still attached and extended outward before bounce back up quickly. Of course, not all of us could make it to the floor and back up, like Brass for an example. Instead, Brass only went half way down, while everyone else followed right along with age.
Lean wit it,
We followed Brooke as she leaned back to the left side with her shoulders,
Rock wit it,
and then quickly followed up by leaning forward but it was almost like we were taking steps with our shoulders, one going in front of the other with the other one following forward afterwards.
Snap wit it.
Turning our torsos and heads so that the all faced the right side of us, we leaned slightly back, tilted our heads up and snapped our fingers with a hasty rotation of our wrists. Greg and Nick had slight difficulty with the snapping as it was now apparent that they couldn't snap.
All my ladies, let me see you pop your back wit it.
Instructing only Catherine and myself for this step, she told us to simply boast our chest out so that our backs indented greatly before pulling back just as quickly as we were to do it. And as this chorus repeated itself, the mens' part came up right where our part had just been.
All my fellas, tip yo hats wit it.
And though no one had a hat, they were forced to pretend and take a hat off their heads and tip them forward like people would to greet someone on the street back in the 1800s and below.

After that brief lesson, everyone went to a respective partner – or in Brooke's case – partners as she literally danced with Brass, Nick, and Greg at the same time. Well, by the looks of it, only Nick and Greg were getting any real action as Brass simply refused to dance the way Brooke was. He mumbled something about looking like an old perverted man if he did before he pulled away from the three person dancing group with a chaste chuckle at Greg trying to dirty dance with Brooke, but failing terribly.

Warrick and Catherine were definitely getting into it, to say the least. They were off in their own land with each other as Catherine had her back against Warrick's chest and was grinding with him like it was illegal and she was a full fledged criminal. And the ring on Warrick's finger was not felt by its owner as he grabbed Catherine's hands and led her further into the dance.

But Grissom and I were the most awkward. Not even Greg could beat us. I wasn't about to pull a Warrick and Catherine right in a room full of my colleagues with my boss. I wanted to, but I figured it to be a private dance I'd rather have. Now Grissom was attempting to slide away from the group as unnoticed as possible. I couldn't blame him. Brooke kept adding on one embarrassment after another. And though I knew that she was trying to help, I was wishing she'd talk to me about this before she just took matters into her own hands.

"C'mon, Sizzle! Shake what your mama gave you!" Brooke encouraged as she managed to get over to me while dancing with Greg and Nick.

"My 'Mama' didn't give me that much, Brooke. She was a white woman." I said as I thought about my almost flat backside.

"You got more than you know. Don't make me give you a head start." Brooke warned as she soon squeezed out from between Nick and Greg, forcing them to dance together – unknown to the two men until they opened their eyes. Seeing them jump apart with a slight yell, I began to laugh but it came out as a yelp as Brooke dragged me toward the receding Grissom.

"Okay you two, use what your parents gave you." Brooke instructed as she began to dance like she had before, trying to sandwich Grissom in the middle of herself and me as she held my wrists tightly so I wouldn't escape.

Grissom, stepping underneath and out of our two person circle, couldn't contain the laughter inside of him. I couldn't tell if it was the amount of alcohol in him that made him react better than I expected him to, but I was grateful for whatever it was. But still, I was embarrassed enough without having someone laugh about it. Especially when I didn't know what the laugh was about. What was so funny?

"I'll excuse myself from this dance, Brooke." Grissom informed as he now just stood next to the two of us.

"Fine. Don't wanna dance with this? Check what you missin' then, fool." Brooke claimed arrogantly as she began to dance with me, falling into an old routine she'd taught me when we were younger.

The dance – in short – was beyond comprehension or description. But it sure left my colleagues as well as myself in surprise at my abilities as Brooke took her turn of running up my body as if it were a wall and then backflipping to land on the floor on her hands in a handstand. From the handstand, Brooke eased her way down so that her head touched the ground and – in a painfully slow fashion – she began to twirl around on her head as if she were in a slow motion headspin. That cued for me to – in slow motion – grab her feet and begin to spin her around as she twirled herself around as well. And then, in a burst of energy, Brooke spun as fast as she could in a headspin, making me jump back as a part of the routine. Moving backwards, I prepared to end the routine with the final finish when Brooke crouched into a ball while still head spin. Getting a running start, I turned just as I jumped so I could backflip two times before vaulting myself up and over Brooke, flipping backwards while rolling before landing on my feet to do one more backflip that marks the end of the routine. Brooke spun all the way down to the floor until she was laying out on the hard wood floor with her head propped up on her left hand. Myself, I was simply out of breath and striking a pose of arms across the chest defiantly.

Cheers erupted from my friends and people around us as well. Warrick, no longer distracted by Catherine, came up to me and threw his large arm over my shoulders. "Damn girl! Where have you been hiding this all these years?"

"Well, we don't exactly break into dance in the middle of the lab with a case going on, Warrick." I stated matter-of-factly, laughing inwardly at the thought of the lab being like some big musical.

"She has a point. I can't stand Hodges too much as it is. Imagine if he tried to deliver our Trace results while trying to dance?" Greg said, mock-shuddering at the thought.

"Well, I don't know about y'all, but I'ma go get another drink. All that dancing making me thirsty." Brooke announced, wiping her sweating forehead with her T-shirt.

"I hear that." Warrick agreed simultaneously to Nick.

"Who wants to take shots with me?" Greg stared from face to face, looking for a competitor.

"You're on your own Greg. I just need a cocktail." Catherine said as the five of them plus Brass who was saying something about needing to stock up on scotch again, went off to the bar.

Turning to Grissom, I shrugged. When I asked him if we should wait back at the table for everyone else, he agreed after calling out to Brass to get him another scotch as well. The silence was not as awkward as before, but it was still there from when Brooke had attempted to get Grissom and I to dance to that last song.

"This is better than I thought it would be." I admitted as I thought of my usual stubbornness of the situation.

"I'll admit, I didn't expect to enjoy the party as much as I am. And I certainly didn't expect to be dancing like your friend taught us. It was... different." Grissom admitted as well with another chuckle.

"Brooke has a tendency to do that to people. She can make people change and have a good time no matter how bad of a day you just had." I took a look back at my younger sister.

"She changed you for tonight." Turning back to see Grissom, I saw him fiddling with his now empty glass. "I haven't see you laugh or smile this much since you first arrived in Vegas."

Shrugging, I realized he was right. I never had a reason not to smile whenever I was around Brooke, whether she was at her personal lowest or I was. She always made sure I left with a smile and a happy memory. Brooke called it her duty to make up for all the times I couldn't find a reason in the world to be happy and smile. And for that mission, Brooke's never truly failed.

"I'm always happy when I'm around Brooke. You can't sit there and say that you didn't enjoy listening to the conversations Brooke was having with the team." I said, challenging him to think of a moment when he didn't have a smirk on or wasn't laughing.

"There's no doubt that Brooke is funny. I don't believe I've met anyone yet that can have a fifteen minute conversation on the actual meaning of 'dude'." With a shake of his head, Grissom looked up into the crowd. After a second of glancing, he turned back and stood up. "I'm just going to be outside for a moment. Why don't you go to the bar and see what's holding everyone?"

Looking back now, I saw what was approaching us. Lady Heather.

But she was at the table before I could even get to my feet. Grissom was already partway to the door and I was left by myself with the woman I didn't even want to know was within existence.

"Listen. I gave your friend this talk earlier. I'm hoping you're more sensible than her. If you think you're going to get between Gil and I, you are terribly mistakened." The part that aggravated me the most was that she didn't even express her anger or jealousy. It was in her voice but not her face. "Don't even attempt it."

For a moment, I was out of words to say and I was hoping she'd leave before I could find something to say. But unfortunately she didn't and I was still at a loss for words.

Brooke's POV:

Taking another sip of the Hennessey, I twirled around in my seat to look directly across the floor to see how Grissom and Sara were doing. But to my utter disappointment, Grissom was outside and Sara appeared to be getting grilled by Heather. Engulfing the rest of my drink, I got up and excused myself, saying I had to take care of some business. Staring around for what I was searching for, my eyes soon came across a punch stand someone had set up just a while ago. Whoever wanted punch for an adult party was definitely not in this for fun, but I suddenly became very grateful for the person who provided the three bowls of punch at the stand.

"I'll be right back with this. I just need to use it for a second, man." I said absently, my eyes and mind still on the leather woman, walking away with an entire bowl of punch that was filled with the red liquid.

Making my way straight to the table we'd all occupied minutes before my song had come on, a smirk grew larger and larger as I came closer. And by the time I was directly behind Heather, my smile couldn't have gotten any wider without it going off my face.

"I thought it was a common knowledge to not mess someone that was already taken, but I suppose there's a first time for everything." Heather is definitely grilling Sara... Time to intervene.

And as I raised the bowl over my head and over Heather's, Sara finally realized I was in their presence. She kept shaking her head as discreetly and pleaded with her eyes not to do it, but it was a day late and a dollar short when she finally spoke up.

Heather not only had a new hat on her head, but was drenched from head to toe in the sticky and sweet liquid.

She turned in a hurry to confront the person who'd dumped the punch onto her, shoulders scrunched up from cold the large ice cubes that fell on her as well. Giving her a solid pat on the bowl on her head, I moved beside her to indicate where the bathroom was.

"The men's bathroom is right there, dude." I snickered as I gave her a light shove in that direction.

A death glare was what I received as she began to walk across the floor, flinging the bowl backwards at me but missing by a mile, but I simply waved to her a little too over-excitedly as I took my seat next to Sara . The poor girl next to me was doing everything in her power not to fall on the floor laughing even thought she was attempting to scold me and tell me what I did was wrong. But it wasn't hard to see that she was enjoying it even though it wasn't right. And as I took a look back at the bar, I realized all of them were snickering, if not laughing in tears as Heather passed them trying to wipe the punch off of her with her hands but to no avail.

"Uh... Buh-bye." I said as she disappeared into the woman's bathroom.

TBC...

A/N2: It came to my attention from a particular reviewer that the GSR seems like a kinda side story compared to this entire story. I thought it over, and I realized that was very true. This story does kinda revolve around Brooke and Sara. Typically, I would be worried, but it looks like y'all don't mind my character so I think it's cool. And I'm having just too much fun with the plot line this story is going on. I will be putting GSR in but mainly, and I've come to accept this while writing this chapter. This is a Heather bashing story. Hahaha, but anyways. Here's trivia for y'all. What does the word 'Dude' actually mean? Where did it come from? I know, but do you? Find that out, and hopefully you'll be laughing harder about the ending than before. But now, holla at me and let me know about this chapter. I've got most of the next chapter and the chapter after that written up already. So later. Oh yeah, and there's the interaction between Brooke and the team for that reviewer that wanted it. You know who you are. Personally, I like my Brass & Brooke interaction, tell me what y'all think about that too. Peace.

Peace out, one love,
MC New York