Title: The Gift of Giving
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: CSI wants nothing to do with me, damn!
Spoilers: Through 'XX'
Feedback: Always appreciated
A/N: This is in response to an Unbound challenge. I admit I went over the 1000 word limit, but can I get credit for making the fic itself exactly 1111 words? Please?
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"I wouldn't go there if I were you."
"Ah, Sara doesn't mind, do you, Sar?" said Nick with a wink. Her reply was a wall of silence and an icy glare. "Oh, come on, Sara, we just want to know if you're planning on getting Grissom something for Christmas and, if you are, what it's gonna be."
"Hey, man, what's this we?" interjected Warrick. "I'm having nothin' to do with this." He raised his hands defensively and shot Sara a sympathetic look, which she returned with a weak smile.
"Aww, hey now, don't bail on me, Warrick, you're supposed to get my back in situations like this."
"Hey, you're not supposed to get yourself into situations like this," rebutted Warrick. "Why are you even asking this?"
"Because, I know for a fact that Grissom gives Sara Christmas gifts –"
"One gift, Nick, that's all you know," interrupted Sara.
"That's all I know of," he replied pointedly. "Any more you care to tell me about?" After more silence he added, "Nah, didn't think you'd tell me, though I wouldn't be surprised if there are more gifts." Standing by the coffee pot, Warrick shook his head at Nick's antics and then returned his attention to counting the seconds before Sara snapped. "Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," grinned Nick, "I know that Grissom gives Sara Christmas gifts, or at least that he gave her one last year, so I want to know if you're going to give him something in return this year, Sara."
"I know I'm going to give you a punch in the mouth in a moment, Stokes; does that answer your question?" she said with an evil smile. Warrick automatically took a step backwards, bringing his hip into contact with the counter. Nick, on the other hand, just laughed and shrugged off Sara's threat.
"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much," he chuckled, earning himself another glare. "Hey, I sounded like Grissom then, with the quoting. Does that mean I'll get a Christmas gift from you too?" he teased.
"You're really losing it, man," groaned Warrick.
Sara was trying her best to ignore Nick's taunting and was studiously concentrating on the forensics journal she had been reading since Nick and Warrick arrived in the break room. As soon as Nick had voiced his original question, she had mentally berated herself for ever letting it slip that Grissom had given her the entomology textbook at Christmas. She had then gone on to silently curse the fact that the criminals of Las Vegas appeared to have decided to have their own Christmas party that night and were too busy to commit any crimes, meaning she had no active case to investigate.
"Is Grissom giving you a gift again this year?" asked Nick in his best innocent voice.
"How would I know, Nick?" she muttered from behind her journal.
"Well, when did he give it to you last year? Was it way in advance, so you could put it under your tree and have it torment you because you didn't know what it was, or did he wait until the last minute, so that you wouldn't have time to give in to the urge to x-ray it or something?"
She had to stifle a chuckle at Nick's possible scenarios and she heard Warrick guffawing in the corner, but she refused to answer.
"Come on, Sara, give me a little something to work with," whined Nick.
"I thought you already had a little something," she grinned, "I thought maybe that's why you weren't having much success in the female department at the moment."
"Hey, that was below the belt, Sidle," he complained. Then, realizing his inadvertent double-entendre, he snatched the journal out of her hands and swatted her arm with it when he heard her laughing. "Come on, Sara, it's not that hard a question; are you getting Grissom something for Christmas?"
"Are you getting him something, Nick?" she asked, turning the question back on him.
"I don't have a need, Grissom never gets me anything," he replied, his tone showing no malice, just simply stating a fact.
"You sound like you're missing the point of Christmas, Nick, it's about giving, not receiving." She chuckled again as Nick opened and closed his mouth a few times while trying to think of a response.
"Stop trying to change the subject. Are you getting Grissom a Christmas gift or not?" he demanded, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips.
"Sorry, cowboy, but that is classified information," she said as she stood up, patting him on the shoulder as she sidestepped him to leave the room.
Nick looked utterly defeated as he watched her leave, knowing he would never find out the information he wanted, as the only two people who would know the answer were the most private people he had ever met.
Warrick approached him carefully and gave him a commiserating slap on the back. "Think of it this way, Nick, at least she let you live," he grinned.
---
By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, Sara was completely satisfied that Nick had given up on any attempt to find out whether she was giving Grissom a gift, or vice versa. She was even more thankful that Nick was off on Christmas Eve, giving her the opportunity to walk from the locker room to Grissom's office with a wrapped gift tucked under her arm and remain virtually unnoticed.
"Got a minute?" she asked casually, not giving him a chance to reply as she strolled into his office and sat down. He raised an eyebrow at her unusual boldness and remained silent, waiting for her to lead him in conversation. "I just wanted to give you this," she said, placing the gift on his desk. "Merry Christmas."
"Thank you," he replied softly, his voice betraying how touched he was by her action. "I guess I should give you this now then, huh?" he smiled, extracting her gift from one of his drawers.
She took the gift and looked at it carefully, noting how small it was, and how square. "Thank you," she said breathily.
Neither of them wanted to open their gifts in the other's presence, but neither wanted the moment to end either. The sound of a party popper startled them both a moment later and Grissom looked at his watch; it was midnight.
"Merry Christmas, Sara."
She stood up and walked around his desk, stopping just in front of him. Bending down to place a soft kiss on his cheek, she whispered into his ear, "Merry Christmas, Grissom."
With that, he sat back and smiled.
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The End