Disclaimer: I don't own Greg Sanders, for he belongs to CSI. I don't own Humphrey Bogart, Casablanca, or As Time Goes By, and I'm pretty sure I don't own Bones either... Nope, don't own Bones.
This was an entry for a project over at TalkCSI, and I decided to edit it, rewrite a couple of things, make it better, then post it here. It's a slight crossover between Bones and CSI, but not enough to worry about calling it a real crossover. I'm only borrowing Greg for a bit.
Anyhow, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter... yes, I mean chapter. This is going to be an attempt at a chapter story. You get to suffer through the writer's block with me, too. I have a couple chapters written, but I'm not gonna post until I'm absolutely sure they're ready for posting. Bones is a complicated show to write for, so bear with me as I delve into the mind of Seeley Booth in the chapters to come. For now, enjoy my OC, Janelle.
Janelle was perched on a bench outside Giovinazzo's - the restaurant her boyfriend had told her to meet him at - looking around at the couples walking in and out through the double doors. Anticipating the dress code for this particular restaurant, her hair was pulled up high on her head into a tight bun, curled tendrils of cocoa hair framing her face. The dress she wore clung tight to her torso, but flowed off her hips in a wave of scarlet, ending just above milky white knees in a black lace trim. Her shoulders supported straps – similar in material to that of the trim – that intersected at the middle back and ended at the opposite hips. Thin black strips crisscrossed above her toes and wrapped around her ankles, holding the four inch stilettos firmly to her size seven feet, which were small, considering her five foot six stature. Looking herself up and down in a self-conscious reflex, she smiled. She looked damn good in the dress, and she knew it. That's why it was her favorite dress, as well as Greg's. Thankfully, tonight was considerably warmer than the previous few nights, making it possible for her to wear it. The weather in D.C. was becoming insufferable.
As she turned away from the restaurant's entrance, she reverted back to the suspicions that were plaguing her since she learned where they were to meet. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Greg to take her out on her birthday, but normally it was a picnic in the park or manicotti at her favorite diner. But it was never a trip to such an extravagant restaurant. The ornate carvings on the door were that of the restaurant's logo: a swirling 'G' wrapping itself delicately around the stem of a wine glass. The intricate carvings had her in awe, and it took an effort to tear her gaze away. Whatever it was her boyfriend was planning, she couldn't figure it out.
Forcing her gaze to stay off the doors, she reached into her purse for her cell phone in order to check the time. It was still thirty minutes until Greg would arrive, which is what she had been hoping. She would be where she needed to be at least forty five minutes early, and bring a book to keep herself occupied. She lifted her latest novel of choice from her bag and ran her fingers over the cover. It was the latest novel by Dr. Temperance Brennan, a book that she had been anticipating since finishing the last one. For years she had been looking for books that would challenge her mind and make her think. She found it in the series of novels based around the life of Kathy Reichs. She loved them, and always wondered if it would've been possible for her to pursue a career in forensic anthropology. She opened to the place marked by a thin black ribbon (taken from ballet flats that she had long since grown out of) and began reading. She turned page after page, absorbing each new plot twist and moving on to the next.
Enthralled in the novel, she turned yet another page, eager to learn what was going to happen. When a hand brushed gently against her shoulder, a jolt of surprise bolted up and down her spine. An involuntary jerk of her back sent her book tumbling to the sidewalk.
"Merda!" she all but shouted as she bent over to retrieve her fallen paperback. She heard Greg chuckling, and she knew it was at her Italian expletive. Apparently he loved it when she swore in Italian. "Gregory Hojem Sanders, don't you know better than to sneak up on a woman while she's reading?" She looked up, giving him a playful grin to show she was only kidding.
"I couldn't help myself, Ella. You make it so easy," he teased, giving her a goofy grin. She felt a blush begin to creep into her cheeks, and inwardly chastised herself. Three years, and she still blushed when he flirted with her. Searching the book for the place she had recently lost, she placed the ribbon back inside when it was located. She placed it in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Sliding to the edge of the bench, she spotted Greg's outstretched hand and accepted it graciously.
She stood carefully, making sure she was completely balanced before she considered letting go of his hand. When she was comfortable, she attempted to tug her hand free, but he only gripped it tighter before he pulled her to him, his arms moving to wrap around her waist. She grasped his shoulders to keep herself steady before she looked up at him. Her quiet laughter was muffled by his lips connecting with hers. Closing her eyes, she snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him just the smallest fraction closer. Her mind flitted with memories of their first kiss, which happened to be her actual first kiss. Despite her inexperience, and the inevitable (and painful) Eskimo kiss, Greg had been nothing but sweet. He was unbelievably patient, and soon the kisses felt more natural – more perfect. She knew she wasn't the best at it, but she couldn't see herself kissing anyone else, either.
Pulling away slowly, she opened her eyes to a flustered Greg Sanders, his eyes revealing something completely new and unfamiliar to her. "What is it, innamorato?"
"You're amazing, you know that?" She smiled, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach and the heat rising in her cheeks. She placed a soft kiss to his lips before she stepped out of his embrace.
Jutting out an elbow, he gave her a half grin. He was undoubtedly preparing one of his impressions of a character form the movies they loved watching together. "Shall we, sweetheart?" he said, his voice similar to that of her favorite actor, Humphrey Bogart. Nodding, she laced her arm with his and strode alongside him into the restaurant.
The meal was unbelievable (though nothing compared to Nonna Ori's cooking) and went off without a hitch. However, with each passing moment, Greg seemed to gradually get more nervous, until he was checking his watch every few minutes and looking around the room. He was acting paranoid, as if anticipating a pending disaster.
The sounds of violins, cellos, and a stand-up bass being tuned seemed to shut off whatever pipeline was feeding him the extra adrenaline, and his fidgeting ceased completely. His eyes shifted from her to something by the podium, and she turned to follow his gaze. A man in a tailored suit was stepping onto the podium in front of the bandstand, standing directly in front of a microphone stand.
You must remember this
A kiss is still a kiss
A sigh is just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by
As the strings joined the pianist and singer in the song, she forced herself to turn back to her boyfriend, sure of the awestruck look that must have been plastered on her face. When her gaze returned to him, he was fiddling with a small box gripped between his fingers.
And when two lovers woo
They still say, "I love you"
On that you can rely
No matter what the future brings
As time goes by
Watching his fingers gently rotate the box, her eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. His lips parting, as if preparing to speak, drew her attention away from the box. When she looked into his eyes, she saw a look she hadn't seen since their first date.
Moonlight and love songs
Never out of date
Hearts full of passion
Jealousy and hate
Woman needs man
And man must have his mate
That, no one can deny
It's still the same old story
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by
It seemed as if his face had frozen in the position of preparing for speech, and anxiety was taking over her. She had a clear idea of what he was going to ask her. She became suspicious after his earlier impression of her favorite actor. But followed by her favorite song from her favorite movie? The movie her favorite actor was in? That cinched it. Instead of confronting him, though, she decided to wait out his nerve induced coma so he could ask her himself.
It's still the same old story
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by
As the piano faded out, followed by the strings, she became increasingly worried that he had lost his nerve. She gave him the most reassuring smile she was capable of, the tears stinging her eyes becoming nearly impossible to hold back.
Finally, he began to blink himself from his reverie, giving her the goofy smile that was unique only to him. Her smile wavered and fell, leaving a frown pulling at her own lips. Not out of sadness, but out of nerves.
"Ella," he began, reaching across the table to take her hand, "I love you more than you could ever imagine. You've been there for me when I thought I'd be left to fight alone. You…" He took a deep breath, and she could only assume it was because he was about to start rambling. His smile faltered, and a nervous expression took over his face. "If I don't spit this out now, I don't think I'll ever be able to." She smiled, trying to comfort him while silently urging him on. He opened the box with his one free hand, revealing a white gold band with a teardrop diamond in the center. Four, much smaller diamonds lined the band on each side of the main diamond.
She tore her eyes from the ring, the warm, wet sensation of tears trickling down her cheeks barely registering as she met his eyes. "Janelle Ilaria Robustelli, will you marry me?"
She let out a choked sob that sounded almost like a laugh as she nodded her head fervently. "Yes," she said through hiccup-like sobs. His eyes lit up, the goofy grin returning to his face infinitely wider than before. She continued to cry as he removed the ring from the box and carefully slipped it onto her finger.
She stood quickly, her heart rate racing a mile a minute, the tears still streaming down her cheeks in a thin line. Greg followed suit, never letting go of her hand. He pulled her to him gently, wrapping his arms around her waist as he leaned in, meeting her lips with a passion she had never felt before. Her arms wrapped around his neck once more, and she held tight, never wanting to let go. His grip suddenly tightened around her, and she yelped audibly as he lifted her off the ground and spun in place, twirling her around with him.
She met his lips again in another loving kiss, blushing furiously as she began to hear the quiet applause from the other patrons in the restaurant. Despite her self-consciousness, she deepened the kiss, too happy to let any of her self-doubts get in the way.