Title: My Fair Lady
Author: knr4horses
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Grissom and Sara
Spoilers: None at all. Except for maybe 'Way to Go', from Season 6. But since everyone knows Grissom and Sara are together, probably not…
Summary: Grissom finds out Sara's favorite movie is 'My Fair Lady' and it gives him an idea.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, but Grissom is MINE! Back off everyone, and that includes you, Keegan! Lol. I don't own My Fair Lady, or any of the other movies mentioned. I also do not own the song "On the Street Where You Live".
A/N: Huge thanks to Keegan Elizabeth, wonder beta! She asked where this romantic Grissom came from, and I think Grissom has a very candlelit-dinner-red-roses romantic side to him. It just fits in with his personality. Therefore, I don't think Grissom serenading Sara is out of character. Oh, and one more thing, this fic happens after Grissom and Sara are 'together', but before they're living together.
A/N 2: Here I would like to remember Warrick Brown, a good man, excellent CSI, and great friend to all who knew him. He will be missed.
"Wow. This guy certainly had a thing for musicals," Catherine observed as she along Grissom, and Sara did a preliminary walk-through of a victim's home. They had all noticed that the bookcase was filled entirely with musicals on both VHS and DVD, ranging in date from the early 1900's to the present day.
"Musicals are some of the best movies." Sara replied. "There's The Sound of Music, Singing in the Rain, Oklahoma!, Cabaret, and my personal favorite, My Fair Lady."
"You like musicals?" Catherine asked unbelievingly.
"You don't?" Sara retorted.
"Nah. I'm more of an action/drama kind of gal."
"What about you, Grissom?" Sara asked.
Grissom had been somewhat ignoring the conversation while he examined the contents of the victim's refrigerator. At Sara's question, he looked up, blinking a couple times before answering. "The Sound of Music is a realistic portrayal of the life of a wealthy family in Austria during World War II." When Sara and Catherine just stared, he continued, "Plus, you can't beat Julie Andrews' soprano."
"Umm, not exactly what I asked, but okay."
"What did you ask?"
"I asked what kind of movies you like," Sara said.
"Westerns. Classics. Old horror movies."
Having received an answer to her question, Sara resumed her study of the movie case. "This guy has seven different editions of The Sound of Music. Incredible."
"So you like My Fair Lady?" Grissom asked a second later.
Sara mock-glared at him. "I thought you didn't hear me."
"I heard that part."
"As a matter of fact, I do like My Fair Lady. It's very romantic." She spoke the last sentence kind-of defensively, as if she expected a comment out of Catherine. She anticipated right.
"Romantic! Hah! Since when are you into romance, Miss I-Refuse-To-Wear-Thongs?" Catherine was referring to a conversation she and Sara had when one particular victim's underwear drawer had only contained thongs and matching bras. Sara had been disgusted, telling Catherine that she thought thongs were extremely uncomfortable and ridiculous. "If I have to wear one of those to get some, I won't be getting any for a long time," she had said.
Grissom immediately glanced at Catherine and Sara before quickly redirecting his gaze to the floor. Catherine had no way of knowing that he had a very intimate knowledge of Sara's underwear drawer. A very intimate knowledge.
At Catherine's cool question, Sara blushed. Avoiding the whole thong issue completely, she answered, "I have always liked romance. Just because I didn't allow Greg to examine my skin cells to see if they were 'as pretty as your face' does not mean I'm not romantic. Just because I didn't like it when Hank took me to Cupid to eat doesn't mean I'm not romantic. Just because…"
"Hank took you to Cupid?!" Catherine exclaimed.
"Yes, and it was the lamest restaurant that I've ever been in."
Catherine was stupefied by Sara's remarks and remained silent as they finished processing the house to Sara's relief and to Grissom's amusement.
Later that day, or rather the next morning, Sara was sitting on her couch reading a case file. She should have been in bed, catching up on her rest. However, Sara preferred working to sleeping, to the eternal amazement of her co-workers more specifically Greg.
After making a few notes in the margins of the coroner's report, Sara heard someone singing. At first, she wrote it off as coming from someone's radio or CD player, but then she considered she'd never heard that particular song on the radio before.
I have often walked down this street beforeBut the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before
All at once am I several stories high
Knowing I'm on the street where you live
Then Sara recognized the voice. That voice. The voice that had taught an entomology seminar in San Francisco. The voice that had called her 'honey', then refused to take her out to dinner. The voice that had told her he loved her after the first time they had slept together.
Are there lilac trees in the heart of town?Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?
Does enchantment pour out of every door?
No, it's just on the street where you live.
Uncaring where it landed, she tossed the case file onto her coffee table, stumbling over things in her haste to get to the door. Just as she opened the door, Grissom belted out the next stanza of the song.
And oh, the towering feeling
Just to know somehow you are near.
The overpowering feeling
That any second you may suddenly appear.
He was dressed in his typical slacks and polo shirt. The bouquet of roses in his hand, however, was not so typical. Sara stared at him for a moment as he sang before launching herself at him, trying to cover his mouth with her hand. "Gilbert Grissom, get your butt in here now! Don't you know I have neighbors?"
True to her statement, the door to the apartment next to Sara's opened and an old little lady with blue hair stuck her head out. She smiled toothlessly at Grissom. "Now, that's my kind of man."
"I'm really, really sorry we disturbed you, Mrs. Konwitz," Sara hastened to say. She grabbed Grissom's arm (the one that wasn't holding the roses) and jerked him into her apartment. They stared at each other a few moments before breaking into laughter. In fact, Sara couldn't seem to stop, holding her aching sides and sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. Finally, she wiped her streaming eyes and smiled up at Grissom, wincing at how much her cheeks hurt. Grissom, after setting the roses on the counter, held his hand out to her, pulling her up to a standing position. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and placed his cheek on hers, singing softly into her ear.
People stop and stare; they don't bother me
For there's nowhere on else that I would rather be.
Let the time go by, I won't care if I
Can be here on the street where you live.
Sara almost started crying again at the absolute sincerity in his voice. To mask her emotion she pointed out, "You know Eliza doesn't end up with Freddy Einsford-Hill, right?"
Grissom pulled back to look at her. "So?"
"So she ends up with Henry Higgins, a middle-aged man married to his work."
Grissom studied her face, trying to determine if she implying something or simply stating facts. "Are you saying I picked you up out of the gutter?"
Sara ignored the question and angled her head for a kiss, but moments before their lips met, she paused and said, "Baby, you saved me."
A/N 3: I know, "Awwwww". I will also say 'tttthhhhaaaannnnkkkksss' if you leave a review.