Title: Waffles & Bleach
Summary: Waffles, bleach, evidence, Grissom, Sara. After a potential lead is unearthed, Griss and Sara go after it at home.
Spoilers: "Burden of Proof"; "Built to Kill pt. 1 & 2"; "Post Mortem"; "Loco Motives"; "Leaving Las Vegas"; "Monster in a Box"; "Lab Rats"; and any other miniature episode I've failed to mention. If, for some reason you haven't seen any of season seven, I advise you to hit the little blue 'back' button in the top lefthand corner. If not, continue!
Disclaimer: Does anyone actually read these? They do? Crap. Well, I don't own anything. Just the great homemade waffles made by Grissom. Yeah, right.
A/N: This is another post-episode fic. It happens to be post Lab Rats, my favorite episoed of season seven. I got the waffle line Sara says from Shrek. You know which one! Anyway, read and enjoy.
Waffles & Bleach
Grissom was hovering over the four miniatures with such intensity that he didn't even notice when his smiling girlfriend slipped into his office.
"Grissom," Sara called, coming to stand in front of his desk. "Griss, shift has been over for forty-five minutes. You need to go home."
He looked up finally, realizing that she was there. Giving her a smile, he pointed to the miniatures. "Can't go. Possible lead," he told her, looking down. He began to feel her stare on him, causing him to look up again. "Forty-five minutes?" he asked slowly. "Then what are you still doing here?"
She grinned at him, and poked his chest across the desk. "I don't have a car. You drove us to work today… remember?"
Grissom blushed and sat back in his chair. "You can take the car home, you know. I'll just call a cab or something."
"Uh huh. No way. I want to go home, and you're coming with me," Sara said, walking around his desk to place her hands on his shoulders. Rubbing them slightly, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Sara," Grissom warned, not trying to move away from her. "We're at work…"
"So?" she whispered in his ear, letting her hands trail down his back. "The door is closed, and so are the blinds. Everyone from graveyard is gone, and only day shift is here. Who cares about them?"
"Ecklie's on day shift," he reminded, feeling her hands still on his back.
"Ooh… yeah," she said, moving away from him slightly. "Well, pack these things up and let's get going. I'm hungry."
Grissom stood from his chair and placed each miniature into its box. Picking two up and handing the other two to Sara, he headed for the door.
Sara groaned and threw him a look.
"What?" Grissom asked, stopping to wait for her.
"You're bringing these home again?" she asked, her tone implying that she was not happy.
"Sara honey, I have to. Hodges found us a possible lead, and I want to follow up on it."
She almost dropped the boxes. "Hodges!?"
"Yes. Come on, I'll explain it to you at home. I thought you were hungry?"
"I am hungry," she said, moving past him to the door. "And that means you're making me waffles."
Grissom grinned and followed her out.
OoOoOoOoO
An hour and a stack of homemade waffles later, Sara and Grissom were sitting on the townhouse living room floor; the evidence from the four miniatures spread out all around them.
"What is this supposed lead you were going on about?" Sara asked, leaning back against the couch, exposing her stomach to Grissom.
He ran a hand over her pale and toned skin before answering. "Hodges says that a commonality between all four miniatures is bleach."
"Why are you listening to what Hodges is saying all of a sudden?" Sara asked, sitting forward again.
"Because he told me what he did last shift and it made some sense," Grissom explained, granting her with a smile.
Sara remembered something Wendy had asked her the shift before and suddenly became suspicious. "Have you been confiding in Hodges?" she asked seriously.
Grissom froze and looked up at her, a smile crossing his face at the absurdity of her question. When he saw that she was serious, the smile died.
Leaning over to scoop her into his arms, he placed a kiss on her forehead before moving to her lips.
Pulling away slightly, he ran one hand down her back and cupped her face with the other. "Sara honey, no. I confide in you. Don't you know that?"
Sara nodded slowly, and let her arms snake around his waist.
Rubbing small circles with his thumb on her cheek, he asked, "Why would you even think that?"
"Because of what Wendy asked me earlier."
"And what would that be?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"If the miniature cases kept you up at night," Sara answered, knowing full well that sometimes they did.
Grissom paled considerably and glanced at Sara. "What did you say?" he asked her hoarsely, afraid that their relationship might now become gossip at the lab.
"I asked how should I know, and she said something about thinking that we all talked about it in the break room. I said I didn't know… and she seemed okay with that answer."
Grissom blew out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and relaxed against the couch. "Thank God," he said, staring at the ceiling.
Twisting in his arms, Sara put a hand on his face and gently forced him to look at her. "What did you think I was going to say?"
He gave her a small embarrassed grin, and stayed quiet.
She smirked at him. "What? Did you really think I'd say, 'Well, yes, Wendy, they do keep Grissom up at night, and that causes me to lose sleep because I wake up in a slight panic, wondering where he is'? I'm not stupid, Gil."
"I know you're not, Sara," he said. "I'm making you lose sleep?" he asked, looking upset at the thought.
Sara gave him a small smile and shook her head. "Not much. Only a little bit when they do start to bother you. And when I wake up in a slight panic wondering where you are."
"How do you even know when I'm not there?" Grissom asked. "I always wait until you're fast asleep before I even dare move away from you."
"Because I waited years to have you asleep beside me, Grissom," she said, almost shyly. "I know when you're not there. It's just a feeling that I'm alone."
Seeing through the light tone she was using, he could tell that her words were painful to admit. Pulling her tightly to his body, he kissed her, and apologized. "Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I shouldn't do that to you. I'll try to stop."
"I wouldn't have you any other way," Sara told him, placing a kiss on his throat. "But if you're willing to change that one thing, then I'm okay with that."
Grinning at her acceptance, Grissom gently pushed her off his lap to go back to the work in front of them. Feeling mischievous, Sara didn't move far from him. Instead, she sat on the floor, but leaned back into him.
"This is going to be awkward…" he warned her, perfectly aware that she was toying with him.
"That's okay," she said, a smile gracing her lips. "So, bleach?" she asked, going back to the case at hand.
"Bleach," he confirmed.
"I don't get it."
"Bleach," Grissom repeated, picking up the nearest miniature; the Izzy Delancy one. "Hodges discovered that there was – or a reference of some kind – to bleach in each miniature."
"Wow," Sara said, mildly impressed. "Are you sure?"
"Well, there is bleach in each one, I checked. If it's any relevance, we'll just have to wait and see."
"Okay. So explain this to me," she said, leaning forward.
"Alright," Grissom said, leaning forward as well. "In Izzy's miniature, there's a bleach bottle in the garbage can. In Penny Gardner's…"
Sara smiled and listened to Grissom talk. He was doing what he did best. Teaching. Maybe that sabbatical had done some good for him, even if it had broken her heart to be without him for a month.
"…there are bleach coupons on the floor. There were coupons of all kinds everywhere, you remember?"
Sara nodded.
"Yes, well, there were the coupons. In Raymundo Suarez's miniature – the chicken plant one – there was a barrel of it beside the electrocution table, and in Officer Kamen's, there was bleach in the flower vases, in the water."
"Why was it in the vases?" Sara asked, curious.
Grissom smiled and placed a hand on her back. "You're just as bad as Hodges," he teased her, rubbing small circles through her shirt. "You put bleach in flower water to keep them alive longer. You put too much in, and the plants die. Doesn't anyone know anything at all about keeping plants alive?" he asked, sounding exasperated.
Sara laughed and leaned back into him. "I know some things about keeping plants alive… flowers, not so much. But the only plant I've really cared about that much would be that one." She pointed to the orchid in the corner of the living room. Smiling up at Grissom, she said, "That plant is special to me… and so is the sender. But who it was, I don't know if I can remember him…"
Grissom gave her a mock scowl and descended on her mouth with one swift movement. He knew that she was only teasing him, and he didn't need a reason to kiss her, but this was as good as any.
Needing oxygen, they pulled back to look at each other. "Remember now?" he asked innocently.
"I might…" Sara answered, a smile turning up the corners of her lips. "But I think I might need just a little bit more reminding…"
Grissom leaned down to her again, determined to make sure she knew that the plant had been a very intimate gesture on his part and that it meant wonders to him that she still had it, five years later.
Again feeling the need for oxygen, they pulled away, and Sara said, "I think I remember who it was now."
"Good."
"Now, about the bleach?" Sara asked, looking down at the photos spread out on the floor. "Do you really think that they're relevant?"
"I don't know. Hodges thought that maybe they all shared a cleaning service or something… which would mean that someone would know the locations, know the victim's habits, where specific things went, where each book went on the bookshelf... stuff like that."
Sara nodded her head, understanding. "Yeah… I guess that would make sense. But do they all share a cleaning service?"
"I don't think so," Grissom admitted, looking a little lost. "Actually, I'm pretty sure that they don't. But I can't shake the feeling that the bleach is important somehow. What do you think?"
Sara looked at him and shrugged. "I don't know either. Don't you think we should probably check that out?"
Grissom stared at the brunette in front of him and fell in love with her all over again. All of a sudden, the bleach and miniatures didn't seem so important. Smiling inwardly, he decided that Sara meant more to him, and he wanted nothing more that to feel her beside him.
The bleach could wait.
These small bursts of love were coming to him more and more frequently, he was thinking about deciding to call them normal.
"Now?" he asked, smirking at her. "I mean, we should check it, but I have other things I'd like to check out first… but if you really want to… well, I hope I could change your mind."
Sara saw the passion in his eyes and realized what he wanted. She wanted it too, but decided to have some fun and tease him. "I don't know, Grissom," she said, standing and moving agonizingly slowly away from him. "Maybe…"
Her words died on her lips as he stood quickly and the pictures scattered all over the floor, away from their neat piles Grissom had seperated them into. Pushing her gently against the wall, he descended on her lips again, not releasing them until she ran a hand down his chest and steered him towards their room.
"Are you sure about waiting with the bleach?" she asked as she pulled her lips away from him again.
"Sara!" he said, exasperated. "Yes I'm sure!"
"Okay, okay," she said, grinning. "Just wanting to make sure that you were sure."
Grissom's eyes clouded over with emotion, and he leaned down to her ear. "I'm as sure of this as I have ever been of anything, Sara. I love you."
Her grin grew and her eyes welled up with happy tears. "I love you too, Griss."
"Good. Now about that bleach…" he teased.
"How about," Sara suggested, cutting him off, "you come to bed and think about it after some sleep?"
"Do I have to sleep?" he asked innocently.
"Not necessarily," she answered, taking his hand in hers. "There are other things to do in bed…"
Letting her lead them to the bed, all thoughts of bleach and miniatures disappeared from Grissom's mind, only to be replaced with thoughts of Sara, the woman he loved, and all the time they had to share together.
-End-