A/N: A little Christmas fic for anybody who is missing CSI, Grissom and Sara. Christmas Eve, 2015
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters are not mine.
By the Light of the Christmas Moon
The moon is full. Even behind the hazy sky, it is brilliant. It casts a soft light on the pier and displays the shimmering glow of the reflection of the boat on the surface of the water. The reflection's form mutates as the boat bobs in place, both ever moving, even in stillness.
Grissom stands on the dock and offers his hand to Sara. She takes it with that amused half smile that he is, by now, so used to, and still, so fond. He gives her a half smile of his own and gives her hand a tug. "This is what you want to do for Christmas Eve?"
Sara nods, her smile growing, and so Grissom will happily go along with it. Sara shivers and Grissom pulls her to him, his hands on her forearms, gently running up and down. "You know, we could stay warm under the blankets and you want to go for a walk?"
Sara nods again. "I do."
I do. Two words. And with that, Grissom looks at her with a soft expression and concedes his own nod. He casts his gaze around. The rain has turned to snow, and it is beautiful.
They have celebrated only one white Christmas together and it was their first as a married couple, in Paris. One Christmas Eve that first year, they had spent the night walking the city of lights, snow falling softly on them and landing on Sara's hat and hands and eyebrows, lingering and glowing in the light. Paris, so beautiful, had never been more so. It had been Grissom's favourite Christmas and, until only a few short months ago, one he feared he'd never have the chance to come close to repeating again.
This year, on the first Christmas after their reunion, they are in Seattle for the holidays and it is snowing, and though it isn't the city of lights and though they no longer have the innocence of the newly married couple who felt that their marriage was indestructible, they are under the glow of the most natural light, with a blanket of snow before them. They stroll along the waterfront, from pier to pier. Behind them are the distant lights of Century Link field, lit with blue and green, celebrating another successful December for the city and Pacific North West's football team. Before them, still a ways ahead on their walk, the Great Wheel is lit with green as well, but also with red and white, the colours of the season. They still have light, are still in a city of beautiful light, the emerald city. They may not have that same hopeful feeling of the newly married, but in its place is something better.
Years ago he had let her go, feeling their lives taking different paths and feeling utterly inadequate at bringing them back onto a path they could both walk together. He'd only wanted her happiness and had only felt the hurt he'd caused her, so he'd let her go and something had shattered between them. They have rebuilt what had been broken, and they have made it stronger. They know now, better than ever, that though their relationship is not indestructible, their love is. The greatest life lesson Grissom may have ever learnt is that love, true, pure unselfish love, is the greatest possible gift a person can ever be given. Even if one loses love, or is hurt by it, the moments he or she is given make it still so worth it. Moments of pure love outshine all other moments. All the things that he has ever been afraid of have been all the things that have made his life so beautiful and so worth living. It has taken Sara to teach him that. The lesson he has received has been that he could, and would find somebody who, in spite his best efforts to the contrary, he would love until the end of time. He has also learnt that his unending, all encompassing love would be returned, forever. The greatest gift he'd ever been given was having Sara here with him again. The second greatest was learning how to communicate with her, what he wanted and needed and what she needed and wanted in return. They have begun to make decisions together. It is their choice to be doing what they are doing. Neither is giving up his or her life for the other. They are sharing it instead.
Grissom feels a tug on his hand and finds his thoughts of Sara broken up by the real thing. She is tugging him into a coffee shop. He follows her inside and is mesmerized by the drop of moisture resting on her eyelash. Her cheeks are pink from the cold. Her hand slips from his. She rubs her two hands together, brings them to her mouth, cupping them and blows. There is a short line and they are up. In a city where coffee is a serious business, Sara orders a chai latte. He orders a tea.
Outside, each with both hands wrapped around their cups, they continue to stroll. The lights of the Ferris wheel are getting brighter. Grissom asks Sara if she wants to go for a ride, but she tells him she is saving that for New Years Eve, where they can circle in the air and watch the fireworks as the calendar turns over to a new year. On that night, reservations are required and Sara confesses that she made some as soon as the calendar hit December, only a few short days after the discussion on where to spend the holidays. She shrugs. "Apart from a chance at a white Christmas, it may have been one of my reasons for wanting to come up here."
Grissom smiles. It sounds both magical and romantic, and though the city will likely be streaming with people for the New Year's displays, the two of them cuddled on their chair on the wheel, it might somehow also be quiet and definitely not like any of the New Year's Eves they've spent before. "I can't wait," he tells her sincerely. Then he stands in place and fidgets on his feet. "So then if not the Great Wheel, what would you like to do?"
"Let's walk to the Space Needle."
He looks at her dubiously. "That's still quite a ways. It will be a long walk back."
"Come on, Gilbert." She is giving him a challenging look. The corners of her mouth are lifted in a slight smile she is trying to fight showing.
His full name on her lips is his undoing. Sara is almost always difficult to resist. When she is playful, she is all but impossible. He grins. "Okay."
It is chilly in the moist air. There is a breeze that bites into them slightly. It's part of being in the Pacific North West, where it rains more in the winter than snows, and where the wind picks up the moisture from the ocean and from Puget Sound. Still, it is quiet, so quiet. Most people are tucked into warm homes, visiting with family on the Eve of Christmas.
They leave the waterfront and head up to the Space Needle. Sara shivers and Grissom rubs his hands over her arms. "Cold?" he asks.
Sara nods and tucks herself into his embrace. He suggests they head back, but finds Sara is not yet ready to leave. She wants to explore the park around the Space Needle. The Pacific Science Center is right there and Grissom makes a mental note to visit it before they leave.
They wander around, gloved hand in gloved hand, by the Experience Music Project and around the International fountain. Sara is shivering more and more and Grissom tugs her to a park bench and wraps an arm around her. They have been strolling for hours and are, by now, too cold and too tired to stroll back. With his free hand, Grissom calls for a cab. As they wait, Sara rests her head on his shoulder.
They ride back to the boat. On the dock, Grissom wraps Sara in his embrace and kisses her forehead. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he tells her, before helping her back onto their boat. Grissom will put on some head and they will bundle themselves up under a pile of blankets that night. Before that though, he will warm her in a more natural and intimate way. In the morning it will be Christmas and Grissom will give Sara his small gift. They really have room for no more and they want for nothing anyways. Everything that Grissom needs, he has, right here in his arms, and it will be a merry Christmas. They have the light of a full moon above them, and a love that is like that light. It travels over years and through a vast area of space. It glows warm and it flickers and fades and is sometimes hidden, but it can never be extinguished. They have yet to find a distance far enough for that to ever happen, and they are no longer content to ever test that distance. They prefer to stay near, together, where they can bask in the warm glow and remember what a precious gift it is.
Merry Christmas