Author's Notes: I'll confess that I've never been to a spa and know nothing about them. I had to take a little creative license. Hope it works. This would have to take place sometime before Butterflied but after After the Show. There are no spoilers for un-aired episodes, but references are made to Burden of Proof, Primum Non Nocere and Play With Fire. I realize that the set-up for the gift certificate is lame, but hey, it wasn't easy. Please be gentle with me—I'm a fan fiction virgin **blushing**.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. And I mean nothing. Sue me if you want, but it would be a colossal waste of time and effort. I have nothing.
Set-up: Written for the Geek Day Spa Challenge at Playing with Fire. Elements include:
Grissom and Sara somehow come into possession of a gift certificate to a spa that they must use—together They must be worked on simultaneously, side-by-side One confesses a secret to the other (could be serious, could be frivolous) The holiday season must be referencedOh, and one more thing: Thanks to Psyched for being a good beta, and to the chat room regulars for the encouragement. I hope you don't end up regretting it ;-)
RelativityNick Stokes nervously poured himself a cup of coffee, as he passed the time in the break room awaiting the arrival of his colleagues. Why should I be nervous? If this doesn't go well, it's not my fault. How could anyone know what to get for those two?
"So how did it go Nicky?" Catherine's voice broke him form his reverie. Time to face the music.
"Well, um, those two aren't the easiest people in the world to pick out gifts for, you know? I mean, who the Hell knows what they would like."
Warrick ambled in from the locker room, still in the process of buttoning his shirt. Why does he always change at work anyway? Nick wondered. Catherine didn't care why; she simply enjoyed the view.
"Ah, man," Nick groaned, "we gotta get you some pullovers."
"Jealous much?" Warrick teased.
"What did you get, Nick?" Catherine asked patiently
"Like I said" the Texan drawled "I have no idea what they want, so I got 'em something I think they could use…a day at a spa. They really need to relax mo—." His explanation fell on deaf ears as Catherine and Warrick erupted in laughter. Greg entered the break room. He sniffed the pot of coffee, wrinkled his nose and quickly discarded it as he listened to the CSIs.
"You actually think either one of them is gonna go to a spa?" Warrick was incredulous.
"I gotta say Nicky, I think you've finally lost it." Catherine smiled, shaking her head. "Can you picture Grissom getting a massage? In a towel?"
"Wait, wait, wait," Greg stopped rifling through the cluttered cabinet for his bag of coffee. "You're sending them to a massage parlor? I mean, that's cool for them and all, but, um, what if it gets busted or something while they're there? Some of that stuff isn't legal in Clark County."
"It's a spa, Greg, not a massage parlor! It's all perfectly legal. And if it's such a bad idea, you do the shopping next time, Cath." Nick was becoming exasperated.
"I don't have time to be traipsing all over town shopping, Nick! I work full-time and I'm a full-time mom. I hardly see my kid as it is." She snapped back.
"What spa, Nick?" Warrick refereed.
"A Touch of Luxury Spa and Resort. It's on Tropicana, not far from the airport. Has an attached restaurant."
"Ooh, I go there for my manicures and facials. It's nice. Great way to spend a day off." Catherine supplied.
"Hi, guys!" Sara said as she joined her co-workers. She sounded more cheerful than she felt. The sudden silence when she entered the room was not lost on her.
"Hey, Girl." Warrick gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder. "We were just talking about you."
Sara resisted the urge to correct the use of the term 'girl.' "You were?"
"Yeah, you'll find out when Grissom gets here with the assignments…"
"Grissom's here. Find out what?"
They all turned to the door at the sound of their boss's voice.
"It seems that the Mayor's office received a donation from some mysterious benefactor. He didn't want us to use the money for new equipment or anything useful. He wanted it to go the top CSIs. Apparently you and Sara have the best solve-rates. Cavallo gave us the budget and asked us to choose something appropriate." Catherine gushed appreciatively.
Sara was rarely able to determine whether Catherine's praise was sincere. More often than not lately, she thought it was pretense. She noted the apprehension in Grissom's voice when he spoke.
"Uh huh. And what did you choose?"
"We-ee-ee," Catherine emphasized, with an accusatory nod toward Nick "decided that the two of you need to relax, so we got you a gift certificate to a spa."
"A spa? You're kidding, right?" Sara ventured hopefully. They can't be serious.
"I'm not going to a spa, Catherine, and I doubt Sara will either," Grissom said firmly.
"So you're going to insult the donor? And the Mayor?" Catherine challenged.
"How long have you known me?" Grissom's tone was defensive, "I don't care about the Mayor."
"Politic, Gil, politic."
Sara offered up a solution, "Cash it in and get something else."
"Sorry, non-refundable, non-transferable, good for one day only…" Nick read from the certificate.
"It won't kill you guys," Catherine prodded. "I promise."
"It might, you know, those places are full of bacteria… and God knows what else..." Defeated, Sara's voice trailed off.
"Are you going?" Catherine challenged Grissom again.
"Do I really have a choice?"
********************************
Sara pulled into the parking lot and found a space near the silver Jaguar. Well, Grissom's already here, she noted, surprised that he was willing to go through with this. She had tossed and turned last night, as it's always difficult for night shift workers to adjust their internal schedules on their days off. And, if she were honest with herself, because she was nervous at the prospect of spending the day with Grissom. Gil. Will I ever be comfortable enough to call him that? Comfortable? Who am I kidding? We're only growing farther apart. They had hardly spoken for months. There was a tension between them that was noticeable even to the casual observer. I'm not likely to see him much today anyway. He'll want to participate in different activities, as far away from me as he can get.
Gil sat in the lobby of the spa, flipping nervously through a stack of magazines. Good Housekeeping? Cosmopolitan? Better Homes and Gardens? Why can't they provide a decent journal like the Entomological Review or Applied Psychodynamics in Forensic Medicine? The receptionist had glanced over the gift certificate and informed him that he had to wait for Sara before he could get started. Why, he couldn't imagine. They probably wouldn't choose to participate in the same activities. The realization that he wouldn't see much of her today was both comforting and disappointing. He resigned himself to the fact that he had to wait, and if he had to wait he may as well turn to page 168 and learn how to fold an ordinary napkin into a graceful swan. Sensing Sara's approach, he tossed aside the magazine.
"Hey," Sara smiled gamely, working hard to hide the knots in her stomach.
"Hey," Grissom smiled back, "ready to get started?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
They approached the counter, where they waited patiently while Wanda, the receptionist, finished her telephone conversation.
"That's right, Mrs. Willows. Your appointment is Saturday at 9 am. We'll see you then. You want Henri, correct? OK. You're all set." She hung up the phone and greeted her customers. "Ah, I see she made it. Here's the list of services covered in your gift certificate. You can choose any three"
"Thanks." Sara took the leaflet from Wanda.
She and Gil looked it over carefully. "I'll do the massage, the sauna and the Jacuzzi," Grissom informed Wanda.
"And I'll try the massage, a mud bath and um, I guess, a facial?" Sara was still unsure.
"What? Wait a minute. You don't seem to understand. This certificate is for Cupid's Fantasy, a couples package. It consists of three of our services plus a romantic lunch. You have to choose the same services. You'll be experiencing them together." Wanda clarified.
Sara couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Nick bought us a couples only gift certificate?!"
"Doofus," Grissom muttered under his breath.
"It looks that way, Miss," Wanda responded merrily. "You both agreed on the massage. What else?"
"I'd really like that sauna," Grissom proposed.
Sara was still reeling. She stared at Grissom as though she was certain he had sprouted a second head. "Are you nuts? We're not doing this!"
"We don't really have a choice, Sara. Come on, we're already here so let's make the most of it." He turned back to Wanda, "We'll try the massage, the sauna and the mud bath."
"A compromise." Wanda winked. "Good idea. Your lunch will be served after the sauna."
********************************
Grissom's confidence waned as he entered the anteroom and removed his clothes. He wrapped a towel around himself and stepped in front of the mirror. Can I do this? With Sara in the same room? Oh God, will she also be wearing only a towel? What have I stepped in here? He noticed every unwanted ounce and line as he examined himself in the mirror. He could not help but fear how he would look through her eyes. Suck it up, Gil. Reality is what it is. You can't change it. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the massage area.
Sara was sitting on the edge of one of the tables, anxiously tapping her foot and drumming her fingers. She self-consciously pulled up on the upper edge of her towel as Grissom came into view. Damn, how could he look so good? It simply wasn't fair. She was suddenly very aware of her posture. She pondered how she looked through his eyes.
Gil struggled for breath. He tried to collect his thoughts. God, she's gorgeous. She doesn't even know it. Concentrate Gil, he battled with himself…but Sara's wearing a towel. And she's right in front of me! Don't look at her like that Gil, she's forbidden fruit. But I can't help it. Just look at her. He silently willed her towel to fall, and then chastised himself.
He walked over to the other table and hopped up, noticing uncomfortably that it was only feet away from Sara's table. Sitting casually seemed the best way to cover his uneasiness. A blush crept across his face when he realized that it would probably be wiser to sit with his knees together.
The massage therapists arrived none too soon for Grissom and Sara. Grissom settled onto the table on his abdomen and tried to relax. This isn't so bad. This isn't bad at all. Soft music blended serenely with the sound of gently cascading water. The dimly lit room glowed from the flames of the scented candles. He had chosen the deep muscle massage, and it was heavenly. As the masseuse worked her magic with the lavender scented oil, Gil opened his eyes to steal a quick peek at Sara. Oh dear Lord! Her towel had been lowered to her hips to allow her therapist access to her back. The fact that she was also prone kept Gil from seeing anything he knew he shouldn't, but that didn't deter his imagination from filling in the blanks.
Sara found the massage surprisingly relaxing. Perhaps it was the aromatherapy, or maybe the music. Whatever the reason, it was nice. She had opted for a more gentle, relaxing massage. Her therapist, Jeff, quietly and skillfully kneaded the knots out of her back and shoulders. I wonder how Grissom's doing. She sighed contentedly and opened her eyes. Sara was surprised to see a pair of impossibly blue eyes gazing back at her. A smile crossed her face unbidden. Gil's earnest grin matched hers. He doesn't smile like that often enough anymore.
Midway through their session, an attendant appeared with two champagne flutes on a tray. The CSIs accepted the glasses gratefully. Reading the unspoken question in Sara's arched eyebrow and raised glass, Gil raised his glass in a silent toast. She doesn't smile like that often enough anymore.
Twenty minutes later, their time nearly up, Jeff began to inform his clients of other services offered at A Touch of Luxury. "I think you'd be particularly interested in our couples massage training. Would you like to try?" He coaxed Sara. "I'll teach you the proper techniques and you can practice on each other for the remainder of your session."
Sara was speechless at the suggestion. Grissom aspirated his champagne.
"No! No, that's cough, cough OK. We'll, um…cough take a cough rain check."
********************************
Sara paused in the anteroom to regain her composure. Wow, I think I'm going to need a lot more champagne if I have to face curve balls like that one. She smiled to herself and downed the remainder of the alcohol. Grissom's reaction had been curiously amusing. Next stop, the sauna. She opened the door to the sauna and found Grissom sitting in the corner with a fresh glass of champagne. Now we have to sit right next to each other wearing only towels…
Gil watched as Sara refilled her champagne and shyly walked toward him. She's coming closer. How am I going to do this? Behave yourself, Gil! Sara chose a spot on the bench about three feet from him, sat down and leaned back against the wall. Gil, too, leaned against the wall and relaxed as the steam surrounded them.
"Tonight," Grissom wasn't sure what prompted him to lead the conversation in this direction, "is one of the few nights of the year when I watch network television."
"Really? What's on?"
"A Charlie Brown Christmas."
Sara chuckled. "I couldn't tell you how many times I've seen that over the years, and still…" she paused, blushing, "I still feel sorry for that sad little tree."
"There's nothing wrong with having a big heart, Sara." Gil couldn't stop the grin that spread across his features. "Besides, the tree triumphed in the end. It turns out it was just the ugly duckling."
"Right. It just needed a little love."
It was simply amazing that a topic as mundane as Charlie Brown could lead to easy and friendly conversation. Sara wistfully recalled their last conversation involving Charlie Brown. Grissom had been so charming that evening.
"There are three things in life that people like to stare at: a rippling stream, a fire in a fireplace and a Zamboni going 'round and 'round."
"Charlie Brown. I love a Zamboni."
"We all do."
That day, with the simplest of words, he had re-ignited the hope in her heart that maybe, just maybe, they had a future together.
"Since when are you interested in beauty?"
"Since I met you."
More of Charlie Brown's words crept into her thoughts in the steamy sauna. "Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love." Was it really unrequited? She couldn't be sure. Sometimes it seemed as though he was genuinely attracted to her. Yet he had rejected her when she tried to escalate the relationship. Sometimes he was very distant and dismissive. But other times attentive and sweet… in any case, it was a moot point. He was either unwilling or unable to engage in a relationship with her outside of the lab. She still went home alone every day. And it didn't appear that he had any inclination to change the status quo.
The attendant approached to inform them that their time in the sauna had elapsed.
"Already?" Sara wondered aloud where the time had gone.
"That was fast."
"'Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.'"
Sara stared at Grissom in much the same way she had at the hockey rink on that day that seemed so long ago. Grissom met her eyes and shrugged.
"Einstein." He turned to the attendant. "I suppose it's time for lunch, then?"
*******************************
They were led to a quiet table in the restaurant adjoining the spa. To a tourist, the view it provided of the South end of the Strip may have been stunning; Grissom and Sara hardly noticed. The lunch menu was simple, but appealing. After a perfunctory perusal of the menu, Sara excused herself to use the restroom.
"Wait," Grissom stopped her, "the waiter's coming."
"Order for me."
"I don't know what you want."
"Surprise me." Sara grinned wickedly over her shoulder and disappeared into the hallway.
Grissom was glad that the short menu didn't afford him many chances to screw up. He went with his best guess and hoped she would like it.
"That was positively diabolical." Grissom scolded playfully as Sara returned to her seat.
After a short time, the waiter appeared with their lunch and, of course, more champagne. Gil mentally congratulated himself as Sara smiled her approval on seeing her fettuccini alfredo.
"So how did I do?"
"You did very, very well." She smiled her 'Sara Smile.'
"I make my share of mistakes, Sara, but I try to never make the same one twice."
"How's your chicken salad, Grissom?"
Grissom's tone was noticeably softened. "Sara…can I ask you a favor?"
"Um, okay…"
"It's just…" he paused, fumbling for the right words. "Sometimes I think people forget that I have a first name."
"It just never seems, um… I don't know… appropriate for work."
"We're not at work now."
"Got it." Sara flashed her trademark gap-toothed grin again.
The rest of the meal was pleasant as they returned to the light conversation they shared in the sauna. I'd forgotten how easy it is to talk to her, Gil mused. I've missed this. Someone who actually knows what I'm talking about when I go off on one of my tangents. Someone whose point of view fascinates me.
*********************************
"Ready for a mud bath?" Sara pointed to the adjacent tubs in the center of the room.
"Why not?"
As with the other services, they each took a turn going into the anteroom to change. This time Sara changed first. Grissom smirked as Sara emerged, clad once again in a towel.
"Planning to wear the towel in the mud?"
Sara didn't flinch. "No, I'm planning to wait for you to go into the changing room, at which point I'll take off the towel and get into the mud."
Now there's an image...stop it, Gil! Grissom shook his head and went to change. Once he had slipped into the disposable underwear provided, he wrapped the towel around his midsection and headed for the mud tubs. Sara was buried up to her neck in the thick brown sludge. And yet she still looks adorable.
"Fair is fair, Sara. Look the other way so I can take my towel off."
She did as instructed. The temptation to peek was nearly overpowering. Behave yourself, Sara. How can he be so damn adorable?
The mud was one of most comfortable and refreshing experiences either of them had ever encountered. It was all too easy to lie back, listen to the music and enjoy the scented candles as the spa employees applied the mudpacks to their faces. Once the mudpacks were in place, the employees quietly exited the room, leaving Gil and Sara alone.
Grissom felt the urge to tell the woman who'd stolen his heart what was on his mind. He took a quick swig of champagne while rallying his courage.
"My mother is deaf."
Sara scrambled to catch up with the sudden shift in the conversation. Seeing her confusion, Gil continued. "You asked me once where I learned to sign. I just answered. My mom is deaf."
She regarded him carefully, silently processing the information. Pieces of the Grissom puzzle began to fall into place.
"That's what happened on the stand that day at the Havilland trial, isn't it? You couldn't hear her. That bastard Gerrard. He, he would know that."
"Yes." Grissom's voice was barely above a whisper. "That's what happened. I…uh, I've had hearing problems most of the last year or so. But not anymore. I had surgery in May. It was successful." Dear God, please let her understand why I couldn't tell her.
She knew that she should just be happy that he was healthy. A wave of guilt washed over her. She didn't want to feel hurt by his secrecy, but still it stung. "You could have told me. I mean, I, I understand that you're a really private person, but still it hurts a little that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."
"I know. Please try to understand. When my mom lost her
hearing, my father abandoned us. He couldn't cope with it. Gerrard is one of
very few other people who knew and he used it against me. I'm not the most
trusting man in the world, Sara." He offered a conciliatory smile. The time had come for revelations. "It was a
big factor in many things. That
morning…when you came to my office after the explosion…"
"Oh God! Please don't bring that up." Sara wanted to sink into the mud and
disappear. Why couldn't it be quicksand?
"No, it's important. I was holding a Rolodex card in my
hand. Do you remember?"
"Yes."
"It was my doctor's phone number. I had a pre-op appointment that morning. I had so much on my mind…" His voice was filled with regret, and his eyes pleaded with her to understand. "I felt like my life was spiraling out of control, and I didn't know how to handle it. I was rejecting the situation, Sara, not you. Never you."
Sara processed his words. They had stirred numerous emotions and she was trying to sort out which would be the dominant one. "You're not gonna believe this, but, um…I don't know what to do about this." She told him without rancor.
"Am I too late? You're not interested anymore?"
"Of course I'm interested, Gil. It doesn't work that way. Love doesn't come with an on/off switch. I'll always care about you… But," she added with an air of resignation "I'm not sure I trust you anymore. So much water under the bridge, personally and professionally. I feel like I'm always having to watch my back lately."
"So I have my work cut out for me." 'Love doesn't come with an on/off switch'…love? She said love?
The remaining time in the mud bath passed without words as each reflected on the significance of what had been said. Grissom was contemplating his precarious position. He felt intensely the need to set things right with Sara. Did she say 'love'? He desperately wanted to make her see that he had finally worked things out in his head. He would not push her away again. What if she never trusted him enough to give him another chance? He knew he'd had three years of chances. Did he really deserve another? But if she would give him one more, just one more, she would not regret it. Now that he had finally found the courage to let her into his heart, rejection would destroy him. She had taken a risk when she asked him to dinner and he had given her nothing but heartache in return. He had hurt her over and over. Hell, he had hurt both of them. His heart ached with remorse. He was keenly aware of a growing sense of missed opportunities. If he had to walk through fire for her, he would do it. She deserved that. And he would show her that she was worth it to him.
After the employees returned to remove the facial mudpacks, Grissom and Sara took their turns in the shower and changed back into their own clothes. As they said their goodbyes and headed out the door toward their respective vehicles, Sara smiled brightly. Grissom had seemed to be genuinely reaching out to her. She cautioned herself about letting him in again. Don't fall for it, Sidle. He's pulling you close just to cut you loose again. But this time was different. He had opened up to her far more than ever before. She had seen sincerity in those intoxicating blue eyes. They had spoken more in the past few hours than they had in months. Perhaps the tide was finally changing. Placing her key in the ignition, Sara felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.
The End