Grissom only knew how to get to the garage by way of the carnival, so when he reached the ground floor and heard the echo of the music from the party, his eyebrow went up and he decided to investigate. Perhaps Ford - who he'd managed to identify thanks to the transmissions, since he'd never been given the man's name at the party - had decided to stick with the drinking.
Spotting an extension cord, Grissom's eyebrow quirked again and he followed the trail toward the lobby and on out the door, where the music was even louder. Once on the porch, Grissom nodded to the younger man.
"Hi," Ford said, offering him a half-finished bottle of hypervodka he was holding in his hand. "Have some of this and then you'll really see what your thingy can do."
He gestured around them. "When my semi-cousin was here, we threw a beach party upstairs. Slightly less sand than this, but still way more fun."
"Thanks," Grissom replied as he took the bottle. He wasn't sure about the liquid, but as Ford had said in the message: What's the worst that could happen? He took a swig, hoping for less than 'worst'. Once the liquid had settled, his eyes widened and he coughed. "Not like any vodka I've ever had..."
Giving a look toward the hotel, he tried to imagine a beach party indoors, but it wasn't coming to him. "My experience with beach parties always involves a dead body," he replied in his usual tone.
"Well, sure. If you're doing it right. This frood called the Doctor did almost kick it. I told him Gargle Blasters weren't for human bodies," he said sagely.
Grissom wandered back inside, making a stop in the lounge which - interestingly - was where he last saw it. After collecting a bucket of beer, he headed back to the porch and promptly downed half a bottle in one swig.
Grissom couldn't fight the smirk at the sight of the red sportscar. He used to imagine cruising down the Strip in a 66' Mustang; top down, radio up, and Catherine at his side...
"Unless you're set on one, black," he called out as he moved down the steps, taking another sip of his beer.
"Gorgeous machines," he nodded, taking in the cars.
"I'll drive anything," Ford said, running to get into the red car, hypervodka bottle still in his hand. "You're going to have to have a few of those," he said, indicating the beers, "if you're going to catch up to me!"
Comments 46
Spotting an extension cord, Grissom's eyebrow quirked again and he followed the trail toward the lobby and on out the door, where the music was even louder. Once on the porch, Grissom nodded to the younger man.
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He gestured around them. "When my semi-cousin was here, we threw a beach party upstairs. Slightly less sand than this, but still way more fun."
Reply
Giving a look toward the hotel, he tried to imagine a beach party indoors, but it wasn't coming to him. "My experience with beach parties always involves a dead body," he replied in his usual tone.
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"Unless you're set on one, black," he called out as he moved down the steps, taking another sip of his beer.
"Gorgeous machines," he nodded, taking in the cars.
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