DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
I hate these damn interdepartmental parties. Everyone immediately moves into their own little clique, and heaven forbid someone from outside their department try to join in. Not that I would want to, mind you; I am perfectly fine standing over here by myself. It's just the principle of the thing that pisses me off.
Sipping my wine, I glance to the clock to determine how long I need to stay without incurring the wrath of Ecklie. He threatened the lab with budget cuts if we didn't show up and stay for the majority of the party. I know one thing; I definitely envy Warrick and Greg. They get to work with Grissom tonight while Nick and I have to dress up and pretend to have a good time. Speaking of my colleague, where the hell is he?
I spot him in a circle of women who could easily pass as models, and he is grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Well, at least one of us is enjoying themselves. Maybe I can hide out in the ladies room for the rest of the night.
Walking across the room, I can't help but overhear a couple of disgruntled police officers discuss their hatred of a fellow officer. "She just waltzed in here and took over one of the detective spots. Who does she think she is? I think it's high time someone put her in her place. Just wait until the commissioner sees her drunk on her ass. She'll be lucky to walk a beat when he gets through with her. Of course, she'll be devastated so I'll offer to take her home, and then you can meet us there. We'll have a little ménage à trios, and she can be the inside of our Oreo cookie. Man, we'll fill her up good." The other officer slaps him on the back as the two begin to laugh.
What a couple of assholes. Someone needs to cut their balls off and shove them down their throats. Hmm, I wonder who they are talking about. I haven't seen anyone drunk tonight. Shaking my head, I walk into the restroom, and smile when I see the sofa and chairs. I do believe I can stay in here awhile and be comfortable at the same time. I move toward the sofa and am almost knocked over by the swinging door. Looking up, I prepare to lay into the careless person until I see a grinning Sofia standing there or rather swaying there.
She loudly proclaims "Hey, Sara. What are you doing behind the door? Coming out?" Sofia evidently thinks this is quite funny as she begins to laugh uncontrollably, and I barely manage to catch her when she falls forward. She is like a dead weight as I struggle to keep her upright. With a great deal of effort, I move her over to the sofa where she plops down with legs askew.
Frowning, Sofia says "What'd you do that for? I like being in your arms. Don't you like me?" I finally notice the slightly slurred speech and the dilated eyes. Shit, Sofia's drunk. How'd that happen? I've been watching her most of the night, and she's only had one drink. It's almost as if she's been drugged.
Oh God. It's her. She's the one the officers were talking about. They probably drugged her and set her up to appear drunk, and then they plan to . . . oh, I'm going to kill the sons of bitches with my own two hands. But first, I need to figure out a way to get Sofia out of here without drawing attention to us. Think Sara.
Sofia is not at all pleased that I am ignoring her as she reaches up and pulls me down on top of her. Before I can get up, she has managed to press our lips together and roll over to the top position. Damn this woman is strong and can she ever kiss. She gropes my breast as she plunges her silk tongue into my mouth. Under any other circumstance, I would be elated, but I wouldn't be any better than those two bastards if I take advantage of Sofia in this condition.
I finally manage to slide out from under her and land on the floor flat on my ass. Breathing hard, I stare up at the ceiling. If I didn't have such strong feelings for Sofia, this would be hilarious. As it stands now, I am in hell.
A head pokes over the side of the couch and blankly stares down at me. "Sara? Where'd you go? What are you doing down there? C'mon back up here. I need you." I lift up and gently stroke her face. "Sofia, you have been drugged, and I have to get you out of here before someone else sees you. Your job is on the line."
A moment of clarity passes through those beautiful blue eyes as she says "Okay." I talk her into staying on the couch with the promise that I'll take her to bed when we get to her apartment. Little does she know, I plan to just escort her to it. For now, I'm going to let her believe what she wants.
I find Nick over at the bar and pull him to the side. I explain the predicament and ask for his help. A very irate Nick agrees as long as he gets to take a few shots at the officers when we are done. I agree although I think I may have made false promises to him too.
Nick makes his way over to the officers in question and begins to shoot the breeze with them. He talks them into allowing him to buy them a drink as the three walk over to the bar. I quickly return to the restroom and usher Sofia out a side door. Now what am I going to do with her.
Realizing we need evidence against the depraved assholes, I run by the ER and have some blood drawn from Sofia's arm. She wasn't at all pleased with my choice, but once again I promised something I don't plan on delivering. I promised to rock her world.
When we leave the hospital, I decide to bring Sofia back to my apartment and begin to question my decision when it takes us ten minutes to get up the stairs. As soon as I open the door, I turn to help Sofia inside, and the next thing I know, she's all over me. She may be unsteady and uncoordinated, but her mouth is like a vacuum. It takes several minutes to pull her from me, and I have a sneaking suspicion I will have one hell of a hickey tomorrow morning. Good thing I'm off for the next two days.
Assisting her to my bed, I sit her down and unzip her dress. She helpfully raises her arms as I slide the dress over her head to reveal a very lacy bra and a pair of . . . strike that . . . a thong. My mouth instantly goes dry at the sight, and I have to close my eyes to remove the image.
Bad mistake as I find myself once again on top of Sofia. She's like a damn octopus. Her arms are everywhere, not to mention her hands. By the time I can escape, the Hoover has reappeared, and I will now have matching hickeys come morning.
Our last struggle must have been a bit much for Sofia as she is now dead to the world and snoring like a freight train. I pull the comforter over her and quietly leave the room. I need a drink, a very stiff drink.
The next morning I awake on the sofa and have the distinct feeling I am being watched. Turning my head, I find Sofia sitting in the chair across from me. I sit up and ask "Hey, how are you feeling? Does your head hurt?"
She softly responds "I took a couple of Tylenol and drank about a gallon of water. I'm also having a small problem with my memory. I can remember certain things vividly and then draw a blank on others. Care to fill in the blanks for me?"
I nod my head and fill Sofia in on the whole sordid scheme. She sits and listens to me without saying a word. Her expression remains stoic so I have no idea what she is thinking. I explain how Nick was able to help and that I had a blood sample drawn at the hospital. I finish by saying "Between the blood results and my testimony, these guys don't have a prayer."
Sofia slowly gets up and moves next to me on the couch. She reaches over and takes my hand saying "Sara, I don't know how to thank you. You saved both my career and my dignity when you rescued me."
I instantly turn red and reply "You don't owe me anything. I'm just glad I was there to help you. I would have never forgiven myself if something had happened to you."
Smiling, she leans over and gently kisses me. I start to pull back until I realize she seems to be back to normal; however, there's still a possibility that the drugs aren't totally out of her system. As a precaution, I quickly pull away.
Sofia places her hand on my cheek and says "Sara, I am in full control of my faculties. I know what I am doing. I wanted to kiss you. I still want to kiss you." Not wanting to disappoint her, I enthusiastically return her kiss. Who am I to stand in the way of her wishes?
This time when we pull apart, we are both smiling broadly. Sofia lightly fingers my neck and says "Next time I give you one of these, only you and I will be able to see it."
Maybe I'm going to get to rock her world after all.
Return to C.S.I. Fiction
Return to Main Page