This story is a collaboration of several writers from the 1hour2write community at livejournal. The idea was the brain child of microgirl8225 and each of the contributing writers wrote a section. Author credit goes to: zamboni12, chauncey10, smacky30, spanky743, microgirl8225, bewitchingbella, losingntrnslatn. Also, thanks to dreamsofhim for the read through.
The problem with hanging out with "adults," Lindsey decided, was they were so lame. Even the cool ones were lame.
Still, she and her grandma had talked about it and she knew if she was going to convince her mom that she could have a business as a party planner rather than going to college then she needed to show she could do it. So, when her mom had said that Gil and Sara were getting married and she was thinking of throwing Sara a bridal shower, Lindsey had volunteered to put it all together.
And she had rocked this party thing, rocked it hard.
The theme had given her a little trouble at first, then she had stumbled on the idea of a jungle theme; considering where Grissom and Sara were spending nine months out of the year it was perfect, just perfect. She had done the invitations on the computer and her friend Kristen (who was totally awesome at PhotoShop) had helped her make them really, really cool. The decorations were just amazing; she had done it in a safari theme with big plants and mosquito netting and several outdoor lanterns and it was just beyond amazing. Grandma Lily had helped her arrange for the cake and the caterer; the baker down at Sufi's had a thing for her Lily that Lindsey did not NOT want to think about (old people having the hots for each other…gross, just, gross) but he gave them a great deal on some kick-ass food. So, it was all pulled together and it was beautiful and perfect and then the "adults" showed up and they were all lame and after eating and Sara opening presents, there wasn't anything to do.
Sure, she had looked up activities for a bridal shower but they were all…well, lame. But now she wished she had paid more attention because it didn't matter that the custom invitations had been cool, that the decorations were awesome or that the food was kick-ass, if nobody had a good time, then it wasn't a success. She had to do something, quick, to save the party from being sucked into the black abyss of lameness.
"I did a little reading…" Lindsey was surprised when all of the guests turned at the sound of her voice. Sheesh, did they think the internet only had pictures? Of course she read. "about bridal showers and the history and traditions behind them. One place said that the women at the shower should shower the bride with tales of romance as well as gifts." She gave them all a saucy and charming smile. "I think you ladies should all tell Sara your most romantic moment."
xxx
Unwrapped gifts, wrap and bows in almost every pastel color covered the table in the middle mingled with glasses of champagne punch, coffee cups and dessert plates. Trying not to think of the clean up, Catherine looked around the room full of women, some of them giggling and some startled at her daughter's suggestion.
"What about you, Mom?" Lindsey glanced over at her mom.
"Me?" Catherine asked, putting her hand on her chest.
"Yes, Mom, what about your most romantic moment? " Lindsey smiled, laying a hand on her mom's thigh. "Mom, I know you had and have a love-life. I'm not a kid anymore, I'm 18 years old and I finally understand that you're not only my mom but also a woman with needs."
"Lindsey!" Catherine stared at her daughter and a light color reddened her cheeks at the laughter brought by Lindsey's words.
"What? I'm pretty sure I wasn't a virgin birth." Lindsey cocked her head. "Please, Mom, there's nothing wrong with that." Catherine could hear the slight hint of pleading and panic in Lindsey's voice.
"Lindsey is right, Catherine." Sara interjected, shifting in her seat trying to find a more comfortable position. "You don't need to tell us the delicate details but just a more or less romantic moment. I'm sure you've experienced a lot." She smirked at Catherine. "Besides that, every one of us is going to give a little insight into our romances; you're the hostess, you should go first."
The women in the room were silent now with expectation of the next words from Catherine.
Catherine glanced around the room studying the faces watching her. She knew all of them, some better than others, and finally decided she could tell something. She took a deep breath and exhaled.
"All right! I give in, but give me a moment to think, okay?" She nervously put a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Take your time, Mom," Lindsay said. "I'll get you another cup of coffee, alright?" Catherine actually craved something stronger but considering the situation she answered with a sighed "Yes, thanks, honey."
While Lindsey set the cup of coffee on the table, Catherine huffed out a breath, fidgeting on her seat."Okay, let's get started before I lose my courage." She wiped her hands on her thighs."Uhmm...it was long before your birth, Lindsey. Your daddy and I were newlywed and madly in love. I had just started my training as a CSI and…hmm… still danced at night."
Catherine came home from a long night at the club. Her back hurt and her feet were burning like hell. She longed for a warm bath and a drink. More and more she hoped the double burden would be over soon, that she would pass her final examination and Eddie finally would make a good deal as a music producer to get "a foot in the door."
When she entered their small apartment in downtown Las Vegas, an unfamiliar aroma greeted her. Lavender!
Catherine let out a snicker and started to smile while entering the bathroom. The bathtub was already filled, steam rising from the water, the lavender scent very intense. The tub was filled with red rose petals dancing in the water.
She looked around the room; candles covered every available surface. Eddie had outdone himself. Catherine felt like a pampered princess. She took off her clothes and slowly lowered her body into the warm water. "Ahhh, this is like heaven on earth."
"Hi, honey." Eddie entered the room carrying two glasses with a dark brown liquid, ice cubes clinking in it.
"Oh, Eddie this is wonderful. How did you know?" She beamed as she took the whiskey from him.
Eddie sat down behind her, at the top of the tub starting to massage her sore neck and Catherine let out some grateful moans.
"I'm your husband, did you forget? I know how you feel and want you to feel better. Lavender has a calming, soothing effect," he explained and kissed her forehead.
"Enjoy your bath, honey. I have something else to do," he bent forward and whispered in her ear "For you," his voice mysteriously."And please, don't get out before I'll tell you. I want to make sure everything is fine." Pause. "For you," he said again and with a knowing smile, he disappeared out of the bathroom.
Catherine closed her eyes and sank deeper into the warm foamy water, way too tired to question him but a happy smile on her lips nonetheless.
About half an hour later, she forced herself out of the soothing bath; the fatigue was not completely gone but her curiosity was fully awake now. She just had finished putting on some lotion, dressing in a sexy gown when Eddie knocked at the bathroom door.
"Are you ready, honey?" He came in, stopped in his tracks and let out a whistle. "Wow. You look gorgeous." He took her hand and swirled her around. "Exactly the right clothing for my…our event."
"Event?" Catherine asked. It was such a typical Eddie phrase. "You're making this feel like an illicit encounter." In a swift movement, Eddie hauled her up in his arms causing a gasp and giggle to come from her.
"You're so right, honey." He crushed his lips to hers and deeply kissed her. "I'd been dying to do this since you got home but if we don't stop here we'll never get into the next room and our apartment is small." With these words, he carried her over in to the living room as if she weighed nothing.
Once inside the living room her eyes widened and her hands covered her mouth. "Oh my goodness, Eddie, this is beautiful." She took in the sight before her.
"Do you like it?" He sat her down on the floor holding her back to his front.
"If I like it? I love it. No one has ever done anything like this for me. It so lovely, so romantic." She turned around and showered his face with kisses. "Thank you. It's so, so wonderful, Eddie. You're wonderful."
Before Catherine had come home, Eddie had set up a picnic dinner surrounded by candles in the middle of their living room floor. He had slipped the new CD of his last "superstar" into the player; fortunately, a ballad singer.
"If I had known you liked it that much, I had done it much sooner. But I promise, here and now, I'll do it more often now." He hugged her."Do you wanna dance, princess? " He held out his hand and Catherine took it without hesitation.
"I'm honored, sir. I can't imagine a better place, my hero."
Their bodies swayed to the soothing music emanating from the stereo, the heady scent of lavender still around titillating their senses.
"We should have dinner now." Eddie suggested gently rubbing his cheek against Catherine's.
"Later," she definitely did not want to break this beautiful, intimate moment.
She ended the story here because she didn't want to go into detail what had happened then; that they hadn't had dinner before break of dawn because the hunger for each other was more urgent than the appetite for food and romantic, at least in the summer of 1991.
She didn't want to destroy the good mood at Sara's shower as well. She didn't tell them how they had let their imagination run wild, had built castles in the air; about the house they wanted to build outside of Las Vegas; with large windows and a tiled patio on the front, a garden and a lawn for their kids to play on in the back. Eddie would be a popular and successful music producer and Catherine would work as a CSI, dayshift. That only one thing eventually had come to fruition was the sadness of their story.
Then she looked at her daughter and smiled with the awareness what a wonderful and beautiful woman Lindsey had become.
"Yes," she thought. "Not everything was bad about my life with Eddie."
xxx
Deanna Phillips sat wedged in between a woman who'd introduced herself as wife of the new Under Sheriff of Clark County and Judy Tremont.
Deanna was slightly uncomfortable around the women gathered at the bridal shower for the soon to be Mrs. Gilbert Grissom. She had met a few of them before, some had even been at her wedding, but none other than Sara would she consider a friend. She'd never met Judy Tremont but she'd spoken to her many times in the past on the phone whenever she tried to call David at work. The lady who sat across from her on the couch engaged in conversation with Judy Robbins was a former dominatrix.
Deanna had to give it to the Sara and Gil, they did have an interesting assortment of people they called friends.
She'd met Sara several years previously one evening when she and David had first started dating. Sara had been shopping in a local market for fresh fruits, when they had literally bumped into one another. David quickly introduced them and an unlikely friendship had blossomed.
Deanna was the first person Sara had confessed her hidden relationship with her boss and in turn had helped the younger woman snag the quiet assistant coroner. The two couples soon were sharing meals together, playing gin rummy or cutthroat 'Scrabble' and occasionally attending a show together.
Wishing the obnoxious woman to her right would shut up about her precious 'Conrad' Deanna noticed that her host, Catherine rolled her eyes heavenward every time the woman opened her mouth to speak. She empathized with her, but knew the woman's presence there at the shower was likely more political than personal.
Catherine was someone Deanna would love to get to know better; Grissom spoke of her highly and David had told her that the infamous Sam Braun had been her father. She'd heard stories about him from her grandfather who at one time had been a pit boss at the same time as had Braun; but instead of rising to the top as had Sam, her grandfather had sunk slowly to the bottom. Deanna's 'paw-paw' had, after a stint in rehab, finally beaten his battle with the bottle.
She looked at the very visibly relaxed Sara; Deanna snickered silently thinking of the gifts Sara had finished opening not too long ago. Seems all of them had given her something sexy to wear on her wedding night. Deanna laughed, Sara and Grissom were going to have a lot of fun with those.
While both Grissom and Sara were very private, Deanna could guess from a few slips of the tongue, some furious blushing and an embarrassing incident of some "toys" being left out, that the quiet entomologist was very focused and talented in the bedroom. She blushed when she thought, it's always the quiet ones you should be worried about, because her David blew her socks off nightly or rather, daily, since both worked the nightshift.
Deanna had been a registered nurse at Desert View Nursing Home for the past seven years. She loved her work, but she loved her husband more than she'd ever imagined possible.
When younger hostess of the party, Lindsey Willows, asked all of them to tell the most romantic thing that had ever happened to them, Deanna's mind slipped away to that first time she and David had ever slept together, while Mrs. Conrad Ecklie recited her long and probably untrue tale of the $20,000 engagement ring her husband had bought her.
Deanna quit listening to the others as her memory of most romantic thing wouldn't be denied any longer:
Deanna felt cocooned in warmth. She knew she was still sleep, but the pressure from his lips felt real; she wondered if she were really asleep. The press of his lips over her lower stomach increased. Her mind filled with images of her quiet new husband.
She felt warm and languid, safe between her sheets and somewhere close, but not too close, to consciousness. She'd never had a dream that was so intense, she could feel the traces of moisture from his kisses dry on her skin as he trailed down her torso.
Soon he was poised above her, seeking her permission to enter her. She smiled, even in her dreams he was even a gentleman. The smell of him intoxicated her; his unique signature odor which she associated with chemicals from the lab and a clean unscented soap and his pure masculinity .
Soon he was moving inside her and her hips moved with his rhythm. She moaned when his pace increased. Feeling her body begin to drift as her insides were clinching and spasming as he filled her completely, she cried out her climax. Then immediately came again as she awoke completely to a sweat dripping David Phillips still pressed between her legs. Her whole body quaked with desire and love. Aftershocks of pleasure raced through her at odd intervals as David continued his deliberate assault on her. He pounded faster into her. She'd never seen him lose control before, but his eyes were wild, his body driven, his movements frantic.
He took her lips with his and held the kiss as he exploded inside her. Another spasm rocked her as they collapsed against each other. After several minutes, David rolled off of her onto his back and she curled up into the crook of his right arm and sighed. "Was this real?" She was still a bit unsure of whether all had been a glorious dream or was in fact, real.
"Yes, Mrs. Phillips." David took a moment to kiss her fully on the lips.
"Next time, don't start without me," she chided, laughing.
"Huh?"
"I actually woke up the first time I had an orgasm."
"Really? I thought you were awake," he murmured against her forehead, placing gentle pecks against her skin.
"Umm, no."
"You were moaning and saying my name over and over." David kissed her again, their kiss becoming more passionate as the seconds passed.
"I must have been dreaming," she murmured.
"I hope it was a nice dream, my dear."
"It sure was."
"It's not over yet," David said a short time later as they lay curled together.
"My dream?"
He left her embrace and quickly left their bedroom, returning a short time later with his hands full of a small, furry, wriggling something. "I got you this puppy for you." He let the animal down onto the bed, and the small dog quickly jumped up into her face, happily licking her hello.
"What kind is he?"
"A boxer. Grissom found him in a dumpster." She looked at him sharply."No, not at a crime scene or with a body, but he and I went to dinner and when we left we found him. Grissom crawled into the dumpster without even thinking and got him. You know how much he and Sara love Hank and he…well, I, thought maybe you'd like one, too…"
Deanna kissed her husband, "I think we should name him Bruno."
Deanna was startled from her memory when Judy elbowed her in the side.
Sara's voice broke through, "Deanna? Lindsey asked what the most romantic thing David ever did for you. Care to share with the rest of us?"
Deanna smiled and realized she couldn't very well tell them all of what she'd just so vividly remembered. "David got me a dog. He's very attentive to my needs. As I'm sure Gil is to yours and will continue to be once you're married."
Mrs. Ecklie's face fell, but Sara and Deanna exchanged a smile, then everyone listened to Lindsey ask Heather, "What's the most romantic thing Uncle Jim has done for you?"
XXX
"Well," Heather began in response to the question, "you all know Jim." She smiled and gave a helpless shrug.
Heartfelt laughter filled the room and she felt a blush coloring her cheeks. Looking around, Heather took in the smiles on the other women's faces. She had expected this entire day to be complicated and uncomfortable. When the invitation showed up in the mailbox, she contemplated throwing it away. But now, realizing her fears were unfounded, she was very glad she decided to attend.
Despite how welcome they had made her feel, Heather was a little reticent. "Let me just say that Jim and I didn't start out on the best of terms. He could…um…barely stand the sight of me."
"So what happened?" Catherine grinned at her.
"I would rather not go into how we went from," she paused, her lips tipping up in a smile, "mortal enemies to lovers. It's not important."
"Come on," Wendy teased, "don't make us drag it out of you."
Mandy giggled. "Yeah. Spill it."
Heather hesitated; still not completely comfortable talking about something so personal. Judy Robbins was sitting next to her and she reached out and patted Heather's hand.
"You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. It's just for fun."
"Thank you," Heather murmured. Then, green eyes soft with the memory, Heather began. "I was having a really bad day…"
Long did not begin to describe the day Heather was having. She never imagined how stressful it would be to counsel people on a daily basis. Some of them she could help. Some she couldn't. It was the ones in the last category that caused the muscles in her back and neck to knot up.
Today had been particularly hard. A patient, a fourteen year old girl, had attempted suicide, and Heather spent the entire afternoon at the hospital with the child and her parents. Though she didn't normally work with teenagers Heather had made an exception for this one. The girl had worked up the courage to tell her parents she was gay and the results had been less than perfect. Heather thought they were making progress until she got a call from the ER doctor.
Heather forgot about meeting Jim for dinner. She was more concerned with making sure they found a suitable in-patient facility for the girl. It wasn't until he called her, almost in a panic, that she even remembered their date.
"I'm so sorry, Jim." Heather was sitting in her car outside the hospital, the cell phone pressed tightly against her ear. "I've been at Desert Palm with a patient."
She could hear him let out a shaky breath. "As long as you're okay."
Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Heather nodded. "I'm fine." She brushed away the tears on her cheeks and sighed. "Is it okay if we skip dinner? I don't think I'd be good company."
"Don't worry about me." His gruff voice was full of concern. "Have you had anything to eat today?"
Absently, she rubbed her forehead, trying to massage away the headache pounding behind her eyes. "I grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria earlier. And I checked my blood sugar," she added, anticipating his next question. "I promise I'll eat when I get home. I have stuff in the fridge."
"And I stood him up." Heather smiled at the oooooo's and ahhhhhhh's coming from the other women. Holding up her hands in defense, she said, "It was an accident. Honestly. I had been at the hospital with a patient all day and…"
Pulling up in the driveway, Heather saw Jim sitting in his truck waiting for her. Oddly enough, the mere sight of him had her eyes filling with tears again. "If my old clients could see me now," she mumbled as she put the car in park and cut the engine.
Before she could get all her things together Jim was opening the door for her. He helped her out of the car. Without a word he wrapped his arms around her. Warm and strong and…there. His big hands stroked over her hair while her tears soaked his shirt.
"Shhhhhh," he whispered against her temple, his warm breath fanning the fine hair there. "You're okay. Everything is gonna be just fine."
Finally, Heather pulled away. Swiping at her eyes, she said, "What are you doing here?"
Jim placed a soft kiss on her forehead then reached around her and picked up a bag he had set on the roof of her car. "I brought you dinner." When she opened her mouth to protest he just shook his head. "Let's go inside."
"I was exhausted and…a wreck." Even now her voice thickened and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. "He was just so sweet.
"He lit the candles in the bathroom, ran me a bath and made me a cup of tea."
The hot water surrounded her and Heather could feel her muscles relaxing. The tension and worry floating away on the lavender scented steam. Jim walked in, a thick mug in his hand. It was odd to realize he knew her so well. While she enjoyed the ritual of serving tea for guests, she preferred the old white mug.
"It's chamomile." His eyes were worried but he smiled. "I thought it might help you relax."
She reached out with dripping hands and gripped the warm ceramic. Bringing it to her lips she sipped. "Thank you. It's perfect."
"Oh that is so sweet," Deanna Phillips cooed. "He's always so…so…gruff. He kinda scares me a little." Pushing her glasses up on her nose in an odd imitation of her husband, she blushed.
"Yeah," Sara chuckled. "He can seem that way. But when you get to know him you realize it's just his way of covering up what a softie he really is."
Once again the room was filled with the sound of female laughter; sweet and inviting with the possibility of friendships. And Heather felt the warmth of acceptance wash over her. Her smile was a little brighter, her posture a little more relaxed. "Ah, but there's more."
"More?" Judy Tremont smoothed a hand over her curls and stared wide-eyed at Heather. "I mean…isn't that enough?" Her nervous giggle had the other women laughing again.
He dipped his head in a quick nod. Scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck, Jim asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Taking another sip of the tea, she closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. "Not right now. I just need to get it all straight in my head."
"Okay," Jim nodded. "Yell when you get out and I'll heat up dinner."
"You didn't have to do this, you know."
Jim's mouth opened then snapped closed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'll be in the kitchen. Remember…just yell."
"I sat in that bath for close to an hour. I was like a prune." Heather huffed out a laugh. "I didn't yell. I just put on my robe."
Jim was sitting at the table, staring at the cup of coffee cradled between his hands.
"Hey," she murmured and his head snapped up.
"Hey." He smiled. "I thought you were gonna yell. I wanted to have dinner on the table."
At the word dinner, Heather's stomach gave a hungry growl. Blushing she pressed at hand against her abdomen. "Maybe I should have. Yelled that is."
He chuckled. Standing, Jim pulled out a chair. "Have a seat. I'll heat up the food.
Heather sat and watched as he moved around her kitchen. He poured iced tea for them both and laid out silverware while the microwave was running. When her plate was done, he carried it over and set it in front of her.
"Eat. Mine will be ready in a few minutes."
The aroma of grilled chicken, onions and peppers made her mouth water and, after a moment's hesitation, she dug in. She almost moaned as the first bite of the fajitas hit her tongue. Soon, Jim joined her and they ate in silence. When Jim had pushed his plate away with a contented sigh, Heather told him about her day.
"He just listened. To everything. Without telling me I was wrong or how to fix it or what to do about it. He just listened." Heather shrugged as she wiped away a tear that had escaped. "And when I asked him why he was being so nice…"
He was confused. "What do you mean?"
Heather waved her hand. "You ran me a bath, lit the candles, fixed me hot tea in my favorite mug. You brought dinner and made sure I ate. Then you listened to me without trying to fix my problems. Why?"
For a long moment, Jim simply sat and looked at her. Then he picked up his tea and took a sip. She could see his hand shaking just a little when he set the glass down. He reached over and took her hand in his. Looking into her eyes, he gave her a soft smile.
"You are not someone who needs me to fix her problems. You are…you. That's why I just listened. As for the rest of it. Well, I did those things because I love you."
Giving the group a watery smile, she said, "That was, without a doubt, the most romantic thing a man had ever done for me."
XXXX
"What about you, Judy?" Sara asked, "What the most romantic thing Al has ever done for you?"
Judy Robbins paused, unsure of what to do. From the moment she had arrived, she had felt like the odd one out. Sure, she had seen all of the women present at departmental functions several times a year, and had enjoyed the time spent with them. But those had been large events for families; this was a private party for friends, and she suddenly felt very old and out of place. All of the other women saw one another nearly every day; they'd shared meals, inside jokes, and gossip. While listening to the other stories, she had desperately hoped she could go unnoticed.
"Oh, well," she thought, "Here goes nothing. I hope Albert doesn't get mad at me for telling this."
"Our most romantic moment marked the end of our darkest time," Judy replied wistfully, staring at the beads of moisture on the paper cup held in her hands.
The room immediately grew silent as all heads turned towards the older woman, sensing from her tone that this story would be different.
"Al... Al hasn't always been the man he is today," She took a deep breath before continuing, "We were in Arizona at the time..."
"Look, Al, I'm just saying that you need to be more careful about the way you eat. I know you wish things were still the same, but they're not. We both have to adjust."
Al Robbins simply glanced at his wife and returned his eyes to the dark and lonely interstate.
Judy sighed. She had been doing a lot of sighing in the six months since the diagnosis. Type 2 diabetes. A manageable disorder, if only Al would acknowledge that he had it. He would not take his medication, refused to change his eating habits, and asking him to monitor his glucose levels was out of the question. She could not, for the life of her, understand how a man who saw the end result of ignoring medical problems on a daily basis could ignore his own.
Yes, they were young. And yes, it was unexpected. But it was not the end of the world.
On that particular night, they were returning from a party at the home of one of Al's colleagues at the coroner's office. They had just passed the town of Wickenburg and had under an hour to go until they arrived at their home in Phoenix. Al had, once again, not been discerning when it came to his diet. They had left the party early after a very awkward, very public argument caused by Al pouring himself a glass of wine.
"If he's not in the mood for talking, then two can play at that," Judy said to herself. She looked out of her passenger's side window and took in the scenery, though apart from the new shopping centers and housing developments there wasn't much to see.
She found her thoughts drifting, not for the first time, trying to explain how she came to find herself here - in a silent vehicle with a silent spouse. There was a time when Albert had been vibrant; he was always the life of the party and many men called him their closest friend. He played lead guitar and fronted a popular band that played in bars across Phoenix, and he always had something clever to say. That was before he began feeling weak and fatigued, before he complained about the numb feeling he would occasionally get in his hands and feet.
Out of the corner of her eye, Judy saw a flash of movement on the side of the road up ahead. Before her brain could register what she had just seen, it was in front of them. Al had seen it as well, and swerved to avoid it, an action which sent their car spinning and flipping before a tree finally caught them. Later she would remember the details, like the fact that the flash was in fact a deer, that mid-flip she caught a glimpse of the unusually starry sky, and that her husband had a very high-pitched scream of terror (but then again, that could have just been her).
The car was totaled, but she was unhurt and he was unhurt and that was all that mattered.
Then he started limping. It was barely noticeable at first, appearing in the first few days after the ordeal. Judy assumed it was just sore muscles and thought no more of it, but it slowly and steadily got worse. She asked him about it one day and received a gruff, "I'm fine!" in response.
Two months after that night on the interstate, he fell.
He fell, and he never got back up.
According to his doctors, his constantly high blood sugar had damaged the nerves in his legs. Combined with a minor injury left untreated after the car accident, tissue in both legs had been slowly dying. There was no saving them.
The first time Judy saw her husband after the surgery, her heart was in pieces. He was a broken man, literally and figuratively, and she was at a loss for how to put him back together. Because she could think of nothing to say that would not sound like an I told you so, she simply gathered his head in her arms. Together, with the steady beeps of the monitors and the drones of the hospital as a soundtrack, they shed tears of mourning.
Though no conversation was had, an understanding was reached. In the mornings Judy would give Al all of his medications for the day and he would take them without a word of complaint. She helped him bathe, dress, and move around from room to room, from wheelchair to walker. Judy was at his side when he received his first pair of prosthetic limbs, and she would drive him to and from all appointments with his doctors and physical therapists. They slowly began to smile at each other more often, and have conversations lasting longer than two minutes.
Once Al's doctors cleared him to return to work, his mood made a final shift. Gone were the bouts of anger and depression that would follow a physical setback. He seemed ready to face and overcome whatever challenges faced home was once again filled with guests - family, friends, and coworkers who all wanted to support the family. Time went on, and eventually life returned to what could be described as normal.
At a police department picnic in late summer, Judy was busy chatting with some other wives when a tap on the microphone ended all conversations across the park. She looked up toward the stage and let out a loud gasp.
It was her husband, on the stage with his old twelve-string Martin strapped on his shoulders.
"Hi, everybody," Al began, "You all know me. And if you don't, I'm sure you've heard of me recently."
Soft chuckles could be heard throughout the crowd, half of them tinged with guilt over all of the rumors and gossip that had been spread about Robbins in the two years since his problems began.
He continued, "I've been through a rough couple of years, and there was a point when I thought I'd never be able to do this again. But my wife Judy has been there every step of the way. This is for her."
And he began to play.
Judy had never believed stories describing how the rest of the world faded into the distance or how in a crowd it can feel like there was only the two of us. But on that afternoon, in that park, surrounded by colleagues and their families, she experienced that connection.
She didn't think to wonder how he had pulled it off (with help from the event's organizers), when he had been practicing (during his lunch breaks, alone in the morgue), or who wrote the song he was singing (he did). All she could do was listen to the sweet voice she had missed for so long, watch his fingers move along the fretboard with the same ease they always had, and allow the lyrics of the song to speak to her heart.
"Al has never been one for grand gestures," Judy said, "so that afternoon really meant something for him, and for us. I'll never forget it. Our marriage has been far from perfect since then, but I've never doubted his love for me from that day on."
For the first time since beginning her story, Judy looked up and into the faces of the other women. There was not a dry eye in the room, and all of their faces were smiling.
Catherine broke the silence, "Wow."
"That was beautiful, Judy. Thank you for sharing that," Sara said.
A comfortable silence enveloped the room as each guest reflected on the story she had just heard, until Lindsey Willows cleared her throat and said, "Um, I think we need a funny story next."
xxxxx
Catherine smiled gently at her daughter, proud the girl was so insightful and sensitive. "You're probably right, honey." Her gaze swept the room and landed on Wendy Sims, who was dabbing at the corner of her eye with a tissue. Catherine, who had long ago figured out who Hodges hypothetical couple was, decided Wendy was her best chance of a little levity. "So, Wendy, why don't you go next? What's your most romantic moment?"
An unladylike and watery snort came from the beautiful brunette. "As soon as it happens, we'll all get together again and I'll tell you all about it." She elbowed Mandy who was sitting next to her. "I know you've got like, a thousand. You go."
Catherine turned to her as well. "Yes, Mandy I believe it is your turn to embarrass Nicky."
"Yes, Mandy," Wendy chimed in. "What will you be sharing with us? When you found Nick in your bedroom wearing a tux, with dozens of red roses all over the place on Valentines Day? Or will it be when he skipped the big Super Bowl party to take care of you when you had the flu?" the DNA tech mocked good naturedly.
Mandy huffed a laugh. "I actually have something else."
Lindsey's eyes widened. "Wow. He topped that?"
Nodding, Mandy said to the group, "Yeah, he did."
Ahhh, chocolate. Is there no problem chocolate can't solve really? Mandy contemplated her own question from her living room sofa for a moment and effectively decided no. Chocolate in any way, shape, or form could soothe any ache from having a bad phone call with Mom to breaking up with a boyfriend. And it was especially effective after the kind of day the fingerprint tech had endured. She swallowed another spoonful of Ben and Jerry's "Half Baked" before loudly singing the chorus of "You Oughta Know" currently blasting from the stereo. She sang into the makeshift microphone of her spoon. One of the many benefits of working at night, she determined, was being able to play music loudly without anyone complaining.
Then there were three knocks at the door.
Well, almost no one.
Refusing to leave the sofa, she hoped Alanis' lyrics would be enough to deter her visitor, but the knocks came again. Growling, she dragged herself up. All she wanted was to lay in the living room, eat her pint of ice cream and sing what Nick deemed "angry girl music" to her heart's content, and no one, no one was keeping her from that today.
"Yes?" she snarled sharply, but immediately regretted her greeting when she saw her visitor.
The corner of Nick's mouth lifted. "Hi," he said tentatively. "Bad day?" he gestured to her attire, then waved a hand towards the stereo.
Now she really wished she had looked through the peephole; she currently wore her baggiest sweat pants and a big Texas A&M t-shirt.
Normally she and Nick would meet up at one or the other's apartment after work. But since he had failed to answer her two texts and one phone call, she just went straight to her apartment.
She merely shrugged at his question.
"Then can I come in?"
Opening the door wider, Mandy then turned on a heel, and headed back to the living room and sat on the arm of the sofa. When she looked up, she noticed Nick had placed a set of bags on the kitchen counter that smelled suspiciously of fried chicken, one of her other favorite comfort foods.
He stepped slowly toward her. "So, uh, I'm sorry I never got back to you earlier. I got stuck at a scene out in the desert all night, and I didn't see your messages until I got back."
"It's okay," she shrugged.
"Greg said you were staying late to finish up some stuff. I tried looking for you, but the dayshift gal told me you'd already left. Did something happen at work?"
Leaning over, she put her ice cream carton on the coffee table. "Oh no," she answered sarcastically. "My shift was just peachy."
Nick's eyes squinted in confusion. "Really? Greg said you found the suspect's prints on the baseball bat used to kill the victim in his case."
"Yeah. Did he also tell you he dumped the print cards of the twenty players of the baseball team on me to find who held the bat?" she retorted.
"No," he drawled. "But I imagine that made for a long night.
Stating the obvious only infuriated her more. "Going through twenty print cards is a slow night. A long night is going through twenty prints cards, superglue fuming a gun, and dusting ten shell casings because everyone's cases had priority.
Her anger caused her normally quiet tone to keep rising. "And then as soon as I finish all of that, Ecklie comes in and rips me a new one for a set prints that got smudged on a knife handle from another case. I then had to sit through a meeting with him and the D.A., getting a lecture on evidence preservation." She lowered her hands deliberately. "So yes, Nick; I had a very long night."
Her past boyfriends would have snapped back for taking her bad day out on them, which would have led to a bigger argument, a door slamming, and two days of not talking.
But Nick wasn't like her past boyfriends. Instead, he took three swift strides, and hugged her tightly. She buried her face in his neck. As the scent of his clean, yet spicy cologne invaded her nostrils, Mandy's frustrations finally started to melt away.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to freak out."
He kissed her hair, and a warm feeling seeped from the top of her head all the way to her feet. "'S okay, darlin'."
When he pulled back, Nick grinned at her. "I brought over some chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw. There are also some cupcakes, but it looks like you've already had dessert."
Rolling her eyes, she playfully swatted his shoulder. "Please. There's always room for more."
"How about a very late breakfast slash early lunch, and then bed?"
She nodded slowly. "Yeah, that sounds good."
He rubbed her shoulders. "Is there anything else that would make you feel better?"
Mandy thought about that for a moment. "Actually…"
********
Part of Mandy felt bad for not fully divulging the details of their little outing, but three days ago he had asked what would make her feel better. It had called for planning so they could have the night off, but as they walked inside the small building, she knew this was just what she needed.
As soon as they were inside, the greeter, Ella, stepped from behind the small podium to the pair. "Hi, Mandy! It's been a while since we've seen you."
Mandy smiled widely. "I know! But work has been keeping me busy."
"I can imagine. But it's so good to see you. Your friends are already seated at your usual table so if you'll follow me I'll get you right inside." With that, Ella led them to a large table in the center of the room. The women at the table greeted the table warmly. Luckily Nick had previously met Mandy's friends, so everything thus far wouldn't be too overwhelming. Plus a few of them had brought their respective husbands and boyfriends.
As soon as they were seated, their waiter, Chris, seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"Hey, Mandy," Chris grinned. "Long time, no see. How are things going?"
"Not bad. And you?"
"Can't complain. Can I bring you your usual?"
She nodded, and then Chris took Nick's order. As soon as the waiter left, Nick turned to Mandy, smirking. "How often do you come here?"
"Not often enough any more."
After their drinks were served, a man dressed in black stepped out on the stage before them. Into the microphone, he said with great exuberance, "Hello, ladies and gentleman! And welcome to the High Note Karaoke Bar! On your tables you'll find an extensive song list. So don't be shy; pick your favorites and start singing!"
The crowd cheered and the first singer was introduced. As the music filled the room, Mandy started flipping through the lists she had long since memorized.
Singing had been a part of Mandy's life for as long as she could remember. She had been part of all of the choir programs from fifth grade all the way up through college. She'd sung everything from "Mary Had a Little Lamb" to harmonizing for "Seasons of Love." There was something cathartic about belting out a song. And while she couldn't be part of the choir any more, karaoke bars were the next best thing.
She turned to Nick, who had been staring at the stage with a pale face. "A…k-karaoke bar? You brought me to karaoke bar?"
"Yeah!" She cheerfully replied. "Won't this be fun?"
"I-I don't sing."
"Yes you do! You've sang lots of times."
"Yeah, at home or at work with your lab doors closed." He gestured to the tables of people around them. "But not in front of a crowd of people I don't know."
She did her best to turn up her big brown eyes at him. "Please? We promise not to make fun of you if you want to sing country music."
Shaking his vehemently, Nick crossed his arms. "No way."
"Oh, c'mon. Just look at the list." Mandy didn't get a chance to argue any further as her friends had dragged her away so they could sing.
She sang a rousing rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and got her way through "One Week" without looking at the screen displaying the lyrics. And in between she tried and tried to get Nick to pick something, but he refused. She had even offered to sing with him, and he still wouldn't budge.
Thirty minutes later, she finally took pity on him.
"You doin' okay?"
"Oh yeah," he grinned, but it wasn't only half of his usual grin.
"You sure you don't want to sing?" she asked hopefully even though it seemed Nick wasn't any closer to singing as he was when they'd first arrived.
Huffing, he shook his head.
She could feel her grin falter slightly, but she made her lips stay up.
Mandy couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Yes, she hadn't been completely truthful about their outing, but she'd hoped he'd enjoy himself, even a little. In a perfect world, he'd want to sing a song, but at heart, Nick had a quiet side. And she knew she couldn't force him into something so public.
Several songs later, she got up to use the bathroom. When she came back to the table, one of her friends told Mandy "some guy" on stage wanted to sing a duet with her. It wasn't an unusual request; in the past, she'd been asked by other people to sing with them.
"What? What guy?" She turned around and her jaw dropped.
There on the stage, stood Nick, his face bright red, but grinning. It took her about three microseconds to decide she would be singing with this stranger.
"I hope you don't mind I chose the song," Nick whispered to her when she joined him. She squeezed his hand.
The opening chords of the song filled the room and all she could do was laugh with the rest of the patrons.
He looked earnestly at her as he sang, "Summer lovin' had me a blast."
With equal fervor, she returned with, "Summer lovin' happened so fast."
Nick couldn't hold a tune to save his life and his voiced cracked more than once when tried to hit a few of the higher notes.
But any lingering frustration from three nights earlier had disappeared; it was the best duet she had ever sung.
Lindsey clutched her hand over her heart. "Awww, that's so sweet. He sang to you in public!"
"Of course he did." Wendy fell back into her chair.
"Wait, wait, wait." Sara's voice came over the chatter. "What I want to know is how he knew the lyrics to 'Summer Nights'?"
Everyone turned expectantly to Mandy, who shrugged. "He said his sisters listened to the soundtrack all the time," she said seriously.
Catherine snorted and Wendy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," they said at the same time.
XXXX
Sofia shifted awkwardly in her seat. Discussing romantic moments with her former coworkers was not exactly what she thought she would be doing at this shower. She flicked a glance to Sara, who was laughing, her cheeks aglow with color. Once, Sofia had thought there was a possibility that she would be the one lit up with happiness at the prospect of spending her life with Gil Grissom. But dinner had led to a kiss on the cheek, and after that—nothing. The arms she had fallen into as a result of her supreme disappointment had been unexpected, but not unwelcome…
"I have a story," she broke in, garnering startled looks from the women around her. Mandy and Wendy exchanged glances, and Sofia swallowed hard, wondering if the lab rats already had an inkling the rest of the women lacked. Heather merely settled back in her seat more comfortably, her fingers lightly curled around a glass of champagne and her eyes cool and evaluative, something Sofia had always found disconcerting in the other woman. Sara's lips were curled up in a smile, but Sofia noticed instantly that it did not make its way to her eyes, and she wondered if Sara thought she would be so disrespectful as to tell a tale of Grissom. That would be remarkably out of line and she would never consider it; and besides, there was nothing to tell.
"Well," Catherine said after a moment, her expression completely composed. "That's the whole point of this, isn't it? Go ahead, Sofia." She cleared her throat. "I—I don't think any of us realized you were seeing someone."
Sofia could feel a stain of embarrassment spilling across her cheeks. "We—don't really speak of it," she said, the slightly more formal accent of her childhood making itself more pronounced as her emotions rose to the surface. "He wanted to have something personal, he said."
"I can sympathize," Sara said quietly, and Catherine leaned over to squeeze her hand. "But go on, Sofia. You don't have to tell us his name if you don't want to."
"I'd rather not, at least not at first," Sofia murmured. "This is the most romantic thing I've ever had happen to me, and it is definitely the most romantic thing he's ever done. And for him, that is saying quite a bit."
The other women fell silent, not even a murmur of side conversation breaking the stillness in the room. Sofia gathered her courage. She was not really one for personal sharing, but somehow, faced with Sara's joy, she had not wanted to feel left out. Everyone assumed she was alone. With a toss of her ponytail, she set out to prove them wrong.
"I came home one evening, and my apartment was dark. I always leave the kitchen light on, so it's a bit more homey, but when I stepped inside, I couldn't see anything. The first thing I noticed was the scent of lilacs. Most women love roses or lilies, but my favorite flowers are lilacs. The funny thing is, I don't think I'd ever mentioned it directly.
"I made my way down the hallway, feeling the lilacs crush under my feet, and paused when I saw a flicker of light under the bedroom door. I thought I would find the bed covered in lilac petals—the sort of thing you expect when your partner does something romantic.
"Instead, I found candles lit on every surface in the room, and a beautiful picnic dinner spread out on my bedroom floor. Champagne, chocolate, strawberries, cheese, my favorite bread…it was beautiful. I was almost so captivated by it that I missed the next surprise.
"Sleeping on the bed was an adorable little cocker spaniel—the exact one we had seen at the shelter the week before, and he had insisted we would not have time to care for. I had been so disappointed when we left that I almost started crying when I gathered her up in my arms. I noticed she had on a brand-new collar, and a note was tied to it. It read: 'Turn around.'
"He was standing in the doorway, dressed in a suit, tie—everything. He looked more handsome and more nervous than I've ever seen him. He came over to me and held out an armful of lilac branches, and then dropped to one knee."
Most of the women in the room pressed their hands to their mouths or their hearts, gasping aloud in anticipation. Mrs. Robbins fluttered her hand in front of her face, sniffing loudly. Heather merely sipped her champagne, but her eyes were smiling.
"He told me that he loved me more than he had thought he would be able to love anyone, and that he had realized that what had begun as comfort and convenience had become something he could not imagine his life without. He said that when everything surrounding him made him think of death and pain, all he had to do was remember that I loved him, and it was enough to inspire him to make it through anything. He asked me to marry him and make him happy for the rest of our lives." Sofia shyly extended her left hand, bearing a simple white gold ring adorned with three sapphires. "And I said yes."
"Oh, Sofia!" Sara exclaimed, her happiness genuinely shining on her face. Sofia let herself smile; she had been terrified that revealing her own engagement at someone else's bridal shower would be thunder-stealing at its finest, but Sara only seemed pleased. Catherine smiled as well, as did the rest of the women in turn, following Sara's example. Mandy and Wendy both hugged her, and Mrs. Robbins fought back tears.
"You're not going to leave it there," Catherine protested finally, when the congratulations died down. Sofia flushed bright red, and Catherine laughed. "No, we don't need those details." She waved down a few token protests. "But we're all wondering who your fiancée is. Is it another detective? Anyone we know?"
Sofia hesitated. "You know him," she said finally, her voice low. Everyone stared at her, holding their breaths, waiting for the revelation. The secret had been kept so long, however, that Sofia found herself at a loss. She had no idea how the other women would react when they found out.
"He's a good man," Heather said quietly. Everyone's eyes turned to her, and Sofia bit her lip. Mandy and Wendy looked confused. "He was always respectful when your team paid a visit; he maintained his composure and limited his assumptions, something that his team members were not always able to do. I highly approve of your choice."
"How did you know?" Sofia breathed. Behind her, Sara made a soft, choked sound as realization manifested.
Heather smiled gently. "He came to me about a week ago, saying that florist shops did not sell lilac branches, but he remembered some bushes behind the house and wondered if he might compensate me for a few trimmings. I was impressed by his memory and his courage in approaching me, and told him he could have as many as he wanted if he told me why he wanted them."
"Greg," Catherine whispered, and Sofia turned her head. Most of the other women were staring at her as well, and then as one, all eyes turned to Sofia, wide and questioning. She nodded.
"Yes. Greg."
The flurry of congratulations, joyous exclamations and tears almost overwhelmed Sofia. She accepted embraces and well-wishes with as much composure as she could manage, finally shushing everyone with a reminder that it was Sara's engagement they were celebrating. Sara shot her a grateful and oddly affectionate smile, and Sofia felt the weight of suspicious dislike fall away between them, leaving only tremulous warmth.
As everyone's conversations turned to something else, Sofia leaned over and murmured to Heather, "Thank you. I had no idea how to tell them."
Heather nodded. "You're welcome. By the way, I have no idea where he got the lilacs. But it was a good story, wasn't it?" Heather shot her a smile, and rose to refill her glass, leaving Sofia staring after her in shock.
Apparently, she was not the only one full of surprises.
Xxx
Looking around the room at the smiling happy faces of all the women in their lives, Sara realized the game had come around to her. Everyone's stories were wonderful glimpses into their respective relationships, but for Sara things were different. How does one make a great story out of their partner learning to make eggplant appealing? Or find romance in a package of wool socks?
She and Gil were far too pragmatic for traditional romance. She had listened to him wax poetic over a bloated corpse, but when it came to their relationship his words were few and simple. Sara once witnessed him connect a French philosopher with Shakespeare in a single sentence when describing the life cycle of a swamp fly, but hearing him groggily say "good morning" was the most beautiful thing her ears had ever heard.
Sara knew the group was waiting for a story about some grand gesture or insanely romantic evening spent together. How could she tell them that her idea of romance was nothing more than him always giving her the fresh handkerchief when they were in the jungle?
She wracked her brain trying to come up with something, anything that would satisfy the women's need to know about their relationship. After all, these were their closest friends, and they only wanted to know them better. Sara wanted to give them something to fill that need, but she was drawing a complete blank.
In her mind, the most romantic thing Gil had ever done for her was…to be there.
When Catherine cleared her throat, Sara finally thought of something to try and satisfy their curiosity.
"Well, we aren't exactly up to the same level the rest of you are, but I do have one thing." She ground her jaw a little and plastered on a smile as Catherine glared at her to continue. "He's had Hank for quite a few years now, and the two are exceptionally close. I kind of felt like a third wheel most of the time, especially when they would play in the park."
She thought about their countless trips to the park and the way Gil would roll around with the dog in the grass. It made her smile to see him shed the years of worry as he played with his buddy. "Anyway, we had to go to the townhouse one day after work so he could take the dog out. When we got there we both realized neither one of us had eaten in a while. So, he handed me the leash and asked me to walk the dog while he whipped up something to eat. I was shocked, because he never let me take the leash when we went out."
"He let you walk his dumb dog and that was romantic? Come on!" Catherine was quick to call her on the lame story, but Sara wasn't finished.
"Can I finish?" Sara waited for the others to quit giving Catherine a hard time and then she continued. "Hank was a perfect angel on the whole walk. It was almost like he knew this was a big deal, and he wanted to be on his best behavior. He didn't even try to chase the ground squirrel we came across. Oh, he chuffed at it to show it who was boss, but he didn't once pull on the leash."
Sara smiled when she saw that everyone was engaged in her little story. "When we got back to the house I told Gil what a good boy Hank had been and he praised the dog as well. Then we sat down to eat with Hank waiting at our feet."
There was a strained silence after she finished speaking, as though they were all waiting for the rest of the story. Finally Catherine had had enough and she asked, "Tell me that's not the whole story? Where the hell is the romantic part?"
Sara only shrugged and smiled. But before she could elaborate Heather spoke up and said, "You obviously know very little about men…and their relationships with the average canine." She waited for Catherine to get her ire up before explaining her point. "The man fed Sara before his dog…" Smiling coyly at Sara, Heather concluded, "That's real love."
XXX
The trash bag crinkled as Catherine stuffed what felt like 20 lbs of paper plates with the sugared remnants of cake into it. "So, now I know why my romances always crash and burn," she muttered to herself, "they never involve dogs or anyone getting up on stage to sing with or to me."
Lindsey's laugh startled her as she swept back into the room for another tray full of dirty dishes. "At least you got the bath part. And you know, we could always get a puppy, Mom."
Catherine snorted loudly, "Yeah, right, that's what we need, another thing to add more chores to this household. I'm working longer hours than ever and you start college in the fall."
"Mooommm..." Lindsey whined. "Look at this." She indicated the half clean, still decorated room. "I did this. The whole thing. And I did it 25% under the budget you gave me. Everyone had a blast. I did a great job."
Softly, Catherine spoke. "You did, baby, you did do a great job. But this is your life we're talking about, not just a wedding shower."
Lindsey blew out a frustrated breath. "I can do this. I can. If you'd just let me take some of the money Grandpa left me in trust, I could get started. Grandma still has tons of contacts. Las Vegas is nothing but one party after another." Her eyes pleaded with her mother. "Please, Mom?"
Catherine sighed and slumped into the chair the bride-to-be had occupied during the shower. "OK...compromise. One year. For one year you go to school, " she held up a hand when Lindsey started to interrupt, "part time. Take business and financial courses so when you have your business you know how to run it. And you get a job, with a real, full scale party planner. Since Grandma has so many contacts, have her help you with that. If, at the end of the year you feel prepared to go into business, I won't stop you. I will also sign off on 10% of your trust being released to you to start your business. One year."
Suddenly, Catherine found herself unable to breath from being squeezed so tightly by her laughing and excited daughter. "Thanks, Mom." She smacked a loud kiss against her mother's cheek. "You're the best."
Smiling, Catherine shook her head as she hugged her daugther. "Maybe when we're having Sara's baby shower I'll be able to tell a story about my happiest parenting moment."
Lindsey laughed, "Is this it?"
Tenderly, the mother pushed a strand of hair off her daughter's face. "Every moment of being your mother has been my happiest parenting moment."
xxx
Freshly showered, Grissom slipped into the bed and scooted close to his fiancee, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck. "How was the Bridal Shower?"
Sara gave a little laugh. "It was a lot of fun, actually. You're really going to like some of the gifts." She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
He smirked in return. "I look forward to their display with great anticipation."
"You know I'm surprised Catherine didn't do one of those couples showers instead," Sara mused as she ran her fingers down his arm.
Grissom looked up at her, sheepishly. "She wanted to at first; I sort of said I couldn't be counted on to attend."
Making a face at him, she playfully swatted his bicep. "I can't believe you made me do that by myself. We had to tell our most romatic moment and I tried to tell them about the time you let me walk Hank for the first time. Only Heather got it."
"Poor baby." He pulled her down into his embrace. "I doubt I would have done much better."
Sara sighed at the feel of his large hands rubbing lightly along her back. "What is your most romantic moment?"
He kissed her hair. "You said 'yes'."
"When you asked me to marry you?"
"When I asked you if you were taking my seminar." He pressed his lips to her neck, lightly. "When I asked you to come to Vegas." He kissed the tiny spot where her earlobe touched her jaw line. "When I asked you to stay in Vegas." His tongue came out to flick her earlobe. "When I asked you to dinner." His lips trailed down her neck to her collarbone. "When I asked if I could kiss you the first time." With a look of intense concentration, he moved her nightshirt off her shoulder and licked the exposed skin. "When I asked you if I could stay the night our first time together." He deliberately blew his breath across the wet trail his mouth had left, causing her to shiver. "When I asked you to move in." He pressed his lips to the perfect roundness of her shoulder, then kissed his way across her chest. "When I asked you to marry me; both times."
His mouth touched hers gently, lightly brushing against her like a butterfly. Then he kissed her again, his mouth, while still gentle, was sure, insistent, possessive. When she groaned under his lips and opened to him, he deepened the kiss, insistence turning to persistent undeniable hunger. He feasted on her mouth, nibbling, tasting, nipping, devouring her mouth over and over.
When he broke the kiss to press his lips to her cheek, he sighed against her skin. "Sara?"
Dazed from the intensity of his kiss, her eyes half opened, "Hmmm?"
"Would you like to make love?"
"Yes," she breathed out.
"See?" He smiled as he divested her of her nightshirt. "It just keeps getting more romantic."