Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just like to borrow!
A/N: Sometimes my muse imagines Grissom dressed up like a cowboy, and today that muse could not be silenced. Enjoy the fluff!
Sara sat idly on the edge of the bed, amused as she stared expectantly at the shut and locked door of the master bath. She was dressed casually in blue jeans and a plaid button-down shirt that was left open to expose a simple brown tank top. When Nick had suggested the team get together and enjoy themselves for a night of beer and excitement at the yearly National Finals Rodeo, Sara was more than happy to use it as an excuse to spoil herself with a new set of cowboy boots. Those boots were now proudly displayed on her feet, and she found herself admiring them as she semi-patiently waited for her husband to finish getting ready.
"Gil? Are you ever coming out?"
A muffled harrumph was the only reply from the other side of the secured door. Sara chuckled lightly to herself. When Sara had shown excited interest in attending the cowboy's event, Grissom had scoffed. He wasn't the rodeo type, he told her. She had insisted that he join them, imploring that he would have a good time if he just let himself. Besides, the whole team was getting together and dressing the part, and it just wouldn't be the same without him there. Begrudgingly, he gave into her demands and the very next day she came home with another pair of boots just for him. He had eyed them with mild distaste, protesting that she had wasted her money. It took every ounce of begging and bartering before Grissom had exasperatedly given into her demands that he don the proper rodeo-going attire. It was the small victories in their marriage that Sara celebrated, and anything that pushed Gil out of his comfort zone was definitely a victory.
Through their first few years of marriage, Gil bloomed slowly. A "shy violet" Sara often teased him of being. But with every passing day he slowly opened up to her. She learned what made him laugh; she learned that he had an impish side that left the two of them in a never endless battle of practical jokes. She learned his fears, and passions; what made him cry and what caused him to boil into anger. Slowly, but surely, she learned what made Grissom, well, Grissom. And for the most part she was content to let him open up on his own time.
But not tonight; they had tickets to a rodeo!
"Seriously, Gil, you're going to make us late! We're supposed to meet the guys in 30 minutes! Now get your butt out here!" Sara traversed the space between the bed and the threshold of the bathroom, getting ready to bang obnoxiously on the door with her palm. However, as she lifted her arm to do so, the door cracked open and Grissom's face peeked out from behind it. Sara barely had a chance to stifle a laugh as he attempted to portray annoyance, but his bright eyes betrayed him.
"I feel ridiculous," He stated, refusing to let the door budge as Sara attempted to open it further.
"Come on, I want to see you! You've been hiding in there for hours now," she pleaded with him. "I'm sure you look fine!"
Gil rolled his eyes, and with an exasperated sigh stepped back and allowed the bathroom door to swing open, Sara almost stumbling with it as it gave in to her demands. Sara's eyes devoured the sight of her husband, who stood self-consciously in the middle of the bathroom with his hands gawkily at his sides. She snorted, "Don't look so awkward, Gil, they're just clothes."
Except they weren't just clothes. Sara admired the way Grissom's legs (and tush) filled out the new jeans she had picked up for him. His feet sported the new squared-toe boots with toe-bug stitched leather. A dark-green plaid shirt that Nick had kindly allowed Gil to borrow was tucked into his jeans and accentuated by shiny pearl-snap buttons and a plain silver belt buckle, not surprising, also Nick's. His tight gray curls and salt-and-pepper beard had been neatly groomed, and Sara caught a whiff of his cologne as she advanced towards him. He was, in every sense of the words, ruggedly handsome.
"You," Sara sing-songed as she put her arms gently around his neck, "look amazing." She kissed him softly as his hands found their way to her hips and the creases around his eyes relaxed.
"Well, enjoy it," he grumbled into her hair, "because this is last time you'll ever see it."
Sara stepped back, giving him a friendly glare. "There's just one final touch." She reached into her back pocket and produced a simple and elegant bolo tie, then reached up and draped it over his head and pulling it closed at his collar.
"There," she said, kissing him on the nose and noticing a blush creep into his cheeks, "now we can go." She exited the bathroom and gathered her purse and keys before leading the pair of them out of the house. Gil didn't notice, but she caught him checking himself out in the hallway mirror before they left.
Upon arriving at the crowded coliseum, and quickly finding a parking space, Sara caught sight of their group gathered at the front doors. Stepping down out of the SUV, she waved at Catherine who beckoned them over.
She too was dressed for the occasion in a denim skirt and plaid top. Behind her was Warrick, clad plainly in boots, jeans and black button-up shirt, with a gold and silver buckle decorating his slim waist. He was animatedly in conversation with Nick, the two of them smiling easily with one another as the discussed the upcoming events. Stokes, ever the Texan, looked very much at home in his boot-cut denim and embroidered cowboy shirt. A black felt cowboy hat perched on his head and looked so natural Sara didn't even question it.
"Woah, look at you Gris!" Nick drawled as he glanced approvingly over his supervisor's attire. "Love the bolo tie," he said with a wink as the rest of the group giggled at Grissom's sharp glance and half smile.
Catherine smiled wryly, "Why don't you cowboys lead the way inside, we should find our seats. Who has the tickets?"
"I got 'em," Warrick said, holding up a fistful of tickets and distributing them out. The group picked their way through the crowd, slowly making their way inside the vast coliseum. The first thing that Grissom became acutely aware of was the smell of fresh dirt and manure.
What in the world have I gotten myself into? He thought to himself as they navigated down flights of steps to their designated seats. The event was a sea of cowboy hats and every color plaid imaginable. There was a tangible excitement in the air, broken by the occasional whoop from the cowboys that were milling around behind the bucking chutes. Horses snorted and the steers were bawling, all mingling with the dull roar of conversation that permeated the venue. Grissom was starting to remember why he never went out as he suddenly found himself feeling claustrophobic.
The sudden tightness in his chest dissipated the moment Sara's fingers locked into his. He glanced appreciatively at her face, a smile that reached his eyes reciprocated by her own. She never failed to know the exact moment his anxiety would bubble up, and was always there to extinguish it. It was just one more thing in the sea of attributes that he loved about her.
"Looks guys! You can pet the horses," Catherine pointed excitedly to a throng of people milling about on the dirt floor, surrounding two livestock pens that held horses and steers. There were cameras flashing and people petting and posing with the animals.
"Photo op!" Nick exclaimed as he led the way, Warrick striding smoothly behind him with Catherine in tow. Grissom inexplicably felt his feet moving as his wife weaved in and out of the crowd, following their friends.
As they approach the metal fencing that separated the people and the livestock, Sara dropped her hand from Gil's embrace and eased towards the animals, leaving her husband to hang back. She gently caressed the nose of a tired-looking nag with her hands, no doubt cooing to it in the process. Nick was taking pictures of Catherine and Warrick posing in front of the steers. Sara turned to him, beckoning him with a look. He internally sighed, and resignedly ambled a little closer to the pen of horses. He stood behind Sara, looking warily at the very large animals on the other side of what suddenly seemed like a very pathetic looking fence.
"Aren't they just beautiful," Sara breathed. Her palm was running down the shiny neck of a chestnut horse.
"They smell like politics," Grissom quipped dryly, and Sara just snorted in response. He was dimly aware of Warrick and Nick over by the cow pen making shenanigans with Catherine snapping photos. He shuffled slightly closer to his wife, enamored by the look of admiration that these shaggy animals were eliciting from her. It took a minute to register that she had reached back and gently grasped his wrist, tugging him up closer.
"Sara…" he started to protest, trying to take a step back.
"Shush, and come here," she cut off his objection with a soft look, and he allowed her to direct him to stand next to her. He was now eye to eye with what seemed like an impossibly huge animal. Sara's hand, still firmly attached to his wrist, gently guided his palm through the bars of the pen. She placed his open palm on the same velvety animal she had been admiring just a moment before. As Grissom felt the quietness of the animal beneath his hand, his nerves also quieted. He even managed to move his fingers along the horse's neck, appreciating the strength beneath them. And then the horse snorted.
Sara couldn't help the eruption of laughter as a very startled Gil leapt back from the animal, nearly stumbling into Nick, who, along with Warrick and Catherine, had come to join them.
"Hey, easy there partner," Nick teased as he clapped Grissom on the shoulder. Grissom, who's heart had finally crawled back into his chest where it belonged, managed to recover his composure quickly and shot a stern glare at Nick.
Nick put his hands up in mock surrender, stepping backwards behind Warrick with a grin still decorating his face.
"Alright, boys, let's get back up to our seats, show should be starting soon," Catherine admonished as Warrick chuckled over the exchange.
Sara fell in step beside Grissom, linking their arms together as they left the arena floor. She smiled playfully at him, "Well, you may look like a cowboy, but you are most definitely still my scientist." A boyish smile crept across his face as he leaned towards her. "I much prefer bugs," he admitted in good nature. Sara just laughed.
As the crowds settled into the stadium seating, the house lights dropped. Spotlights followed cowboys and cowgirls as the galloped into the arena on a rainbow of horses. The event flowed effortlessly from one event to the next. Nick and Warrick whooped and hollered as bucking horses tossed their riders, Catherine and Sara bounced in union as they cheered on the cowgirl's barrel racing. They all laughed along with the antics of the rodeo clowns and appreciated the talent of the trick ropers and riders. Before the night was over, even Gil found himself cheering alongside the crowd as a victorious bull rider tossed his hat to the crowd. There was cheap beer, and good hot dogs, and bags of popcorn. Sara shared a cotton candy with him, and Nick snapped a candid picture of Sara picking the sweet fluff from his beard as they all laughed.
It was in rare moments like this that Gil felt comfortable in himself, and in the midst of the crowd cheering for another eight second victory, he leaned over and kissed his wife's cheek. She looked at him, surprised by the public display of affection.
"What was that for?" she asked with a smile, appreciating the current brightness in her husband's eyes.
Grissom shrugged, and admitted with a half grin, "For making me come out, I'm having a good time."
A self-satisfied smile crawled across Sara's face, "I kinda had a feeling you would."
Noticing that the two of them had been distract from the antics below, Nick elbowed Warrick and nodded at his head towards the lovebirds on his other side. Even though they all shared smirks and eye-rolls, they couldn't be happier that those two had finally acknowledged the feelings they shared for each other.
The small moment of affection that Grissom and Sara were sharing was broken as Nick removed his cowboy hat and plopped it down on his boss' head. Sara's smile cracked into a laugh as Gil brought his hand up and thumbed the brim of the hat back so that he could see her. His eyes were dancing in a way that Sara couldn't resist.
"Well come on now, Marshall," Nick urged on, "give Miss Kitty a kiss."
And, much to everyone's surprise, he did.
~fin~
A/N: Everyone looks better in a cowboy hat, trust me. You know what to do, read&review!