Title Imprévu
Author wobbear
Rating T
Pairing Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer Yeah, right
Author's notes I'm surprised I wrote this. I'm not surprised that I feel the need to give a fluff alert.
I haven't forgotten about Life's What You Make It, but am a tad blocked on it at the mo.
[Re-posted, hopefuly with section breaks in place. They keep disappearing ...]

Summary Grissom is visiting Sara in Las Vegas, and that's a very good thing.

Imprévu

"Gil, what day is it today?" Sara was peering at the calendar on the wall. "My whole cell phone-free vacation thing means I lose track of time."

"I thought it was the sheer carnal delight of having me home that did that."

"Yeah," she giggled, "that too. But, the date is what?"

He looked over. Sara's finger was pointing at the calendar on the kitchen wall but from the sofa he couldn't see what was written on it.

"Uh, one second ..." He checked the top of the page above the crossword he was doing. "Okay, this is the Sunday New York Times, but it's several days old ... one sec." He hadn't sworn off his cell phone, so he had it nearby, "Wow. It's already September 1st."

"Time flies when you're having fun," drawled Sara. "Lucky I thought to check this. I have to go to Morrow at 4:15."

"Where are you going tomorrow?"

"No, today, this afternoon. Gynecologist."

"Didn't you say tomorrow? Friday."

"I said I had to go TO Morrow. Regular checkup with Vanessa Morrow, my new, uh, new-ish, OB/GYN. I may not have mentioned her name before."

"So, it's to Morrow today."

Grissom smirked as Sara rolled her eyes but responded tolerantly, "Yes, dear."

Grissom folded up the newspaper and set it down on the coffee table in front of him, putting the pen on top. It started to roll floor-wards, so he flattened the paper and re-positioned the pen, which stayed still this time. Standing up, he stretched his arms luxuriously then circled his shoulders as he walked towards the kitchen. "Reminds me of that sign outside Joe's Crab Shack: 'Free crab tomorrow!' It always amuses me because-"

"Yeah, I know, tomorrow never comes." Sara smiled at the child-like glee on her husband's face. Sometimes the simple jokes were the best.

"I'll stay here, with ..." Grissom screwed up his face as he scanned the magazine titles, "Baby Talk. Unless you want me to go in with you?" That option suddenly seemed preferable.

Sotto voce because of the women already in the waiting room, Sara replied, "Would you want me there for your prostate check?" She gave him no time to reply. "No, this I can do solo, thanks anyway."

As Sara disappeared into the internal reaches of the doctor's office, Grissom started to contemplate whether he would rather read the Baby Talk magazine or a booklet about what to expect at when you have a Pap smear, and was happy for the distraction when his cell vibrated in his pocket. The email was offering a consulting job in Houston, which he declined with alacrity. He was determined to spend a solid month in Las Vegas with Sara, and even though she wasn't going to be on vacation all the time, he wanted to be there. That, and he had had enough of sweaty heat in Costa Rica to suffice for months, if not years, to come. Las Vegas' dry desert inferno was trying enough, but at least he wasn't constantly bathed in perspiration here.

Grissom answered a couple more emails, deleted a slew of marketing messages he had somehow signed up for and then tucked the phone safely away in his hip pocket.

He sat for a moment contemplating the art show opening they were heading to after Sara's appointment. One of his mother's students from the deaf college had landed a show at the Art Factory, and Betty had done her best to ensure a good turn out. Son - check; daughter-in-law - check; and Sara had heard that Greg and Catherine, not forgetting Lily, Catherine's mom, had also been prevailed upon. Betty was a scarily effective networker, thought Grissom, even with people who were only tangentially connected to her. He chuckled silently, and decided the baby mag was the best of a poor selection. He leafing through it - where were the contents pages? - when a door opened and he heard, "Mr Si-, sorry, Grissom?"

He glanced up to see a young woman in sky blue scrubs looking at him, a clipboard in her right hand. It was a no-brainer: he was the only male in the room. Putting the magazine down gratefully, but a little perturbed at this turn of events, he rose and walked over to the door. The nurse was diminutive, several inches below five feet in his estimation. Her striking shock of curly red hair brought Little Orphan Annie to mind.

Grissom bent his head so they could speak with some degree of privacy, and whispered urgently, "Is something wrong, is Sara okay?"

"She's fine," the nurse answered quietly, putting a comforting hand on his arm. "She just changed her mind, and asked if you would join her."

"All right, okay," Grissom breathed out a sigh of relief. He noticed the nurse's name tag read 'Tina' and almost laughed. Teeny tiny Tina.

Grissom reprimanded himself internally: that was inappropriate. He shook his head to clear it as Tina said, patiently, but in a tone that indicated she was repeating herself, "Please follow me, I'll take you to her."

"Thank you, Tina," he murmured, trying to look contrite and attentive. "Please, lead on."

Sara was sitting in a small room at the end of a hallway with so many twists and turns that Grissom felt he should have been back in the waiting room. Concern about his disorientation vanished when he saw Sara's nervous smile, and he rushed over to comfort her. Crouching in front of Sara, Grissom took her hands in his and peered anxiously at her as he inquired, "Honey, what's up?"

Sara bit her lip and Grissom had the feeling she was not so much reluctant to speak, but trying to find the right words.

He waited, and waited a bit more, and was about to start asking questions when Sara suddenly spoke.

"Ohhh-kay, cutting to the chase, I'm pregnant."

Grissom clutched her hands tighter as his eyes opened wide in shock. "Pregnant?"

"Yup."

"With a baby?"

Sara stared at him, incredulous. "No, I'm having a litter of boxers. Hank's the father. Surprising really, since he's neutered."

"No, no, sorry," Grissom apologized, waving his hands in the air as if to dispel his ill-chosen phrase. Then, the words tumbled out over each other (much like playful puppies, he thought later) as he tried to recover the situation. "I meant 'with child', I mean I was turning the idea over in my mind and that ... sort of ... blurted out." He winced. "Forgive me, it's just ... unexpected news to learn that we're ... expecting."

Mollified, Sara rewarded him with a wry smile. "For me, too."

"So, Sara, you can relax on this stylish day bed and the ultrasound technician will be in to start soon."

Dr Morrow was very calm and matter-of-fact, which Grissom appreciated, even if the "stylish day bed" looked more like a firmly padded treatment table to him. "After the scan, I'll come back in and both of you can ask whatever initial questions you may have."

The doctor departed, quietly closing the door behind her, and as he helped Sara onto the examination bed, so much swirled in Grissom's mind. How a routine checkup had turned on its head when Sara remembered what she thought was a light period after his last visit home, and nothing since. Further questioning had uncovered vague symptoms of fatigue and a mild, but persistent, lower backache. Then a pregnancy test, because no contraceptive method is perfect - except for celibacy, thought Grissom, and that simply wasn't a viable option - and that's when Sara asked to have him join her.

He sat down on the chair beside her, closing his eyes for a long moment. Maybe he was dreaming, and when he opened his eyes, he'd be in bed at home, awake.

Grissom opened his eyes, blinking hard. The scene hadn't changed, except that Sara, smiling, was reaching out her hand for him to hold.

"No, you're not dreaming," she said.

"H-how did you know?" He felt himself pinken, embarrassed at his thought, and being caught.

"I went through the exact same thing while Tina was coming to get you." She shrugged. "This is the new reality."

"Mmmm ... it's exciting, in a, uh," he wondered if he should say this, and rapidly decided honesty was the best policy, "scary kind of way."

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "I feel like I'm on a roller coaster lurching from elation to dread and back again."

Grissom tilted his head to the side, looking tenderly at Sara. "You know me, if there's a roller coaster, I'm there."

Sara's shoulders lifted and lowered in a stress-relieving sigh, and she stifled a laugh. "Good that we're on the same page with this."

"Somehow I get the feeling my page is upside-down."

"Trust me, I know that feeling." Sara continued, "I keep wondering why I didn't realize anything was different, but work got crazy busy and it's not like ..."

Grissom knew what she was going to say. "It's not like we were trying."

He stared up at the off-white ceiling tiles, thinking. "If, uh, conception occurred when I was back the week of the 4th of July..." He furrowed his brow. "You'd be what, eight-nine weeks along."

Sara laughed at Grissom's serious scientist face.

"What? I'm just trying to figure it out!"

"Once a biologist, always a biologist." Sara patted his hand. "You make it sound so clinical! Ya know, you were there, and I'm pretty certain we were both having a good time."

Grissom nodded, feeling sheepish, and started to relax a little. He stood up, leaning in for a long, comforting hug. Then Sara scooted over so he could lie beside her and they cuddled quietly, Grissom gently rubbing Sara's hand as they waited. It was almost a relief when they heard a knock at the door.

Teresa, the ultrasound technician, was brisk, but not brusque, and efficiently explained the procedure before asking Sara to undo her jeans and push up her top. Much cold gel was smeared on Sara's abdomen, and the scan started.

"So, this peanut-like object ... this is an image of the baby," Grissom, back in the chair beside the bed, pointed at the screen and checked with the tech, who nodded. "And this is ... a copy? No, it's a different image ..."

Sara was craning her neck to see and the tech shifted the screen to help her. She examined the screen carefully and then looked at Teresa, who seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact.

"Ah, so this one on the left is the 'live motion' picture, and the other one is a still shot ... " Grissom was leaning forward, intent on the indistinct images.

"Gil." Sara tried to attract his attention.

"Hey, can we get a copy of this one?" Grissom indicated the one he wanted.

Unseen by her husband, Sara raised two fingers to double-check (as it were) and the poker-faced Teresa nodded solemnly. Sara raised her voice too, calling, "Gilbert!"

The greater volume and his disliked full name did the trick, and he turned to Sara. "Sorry, honey, it's just ... amazing."

"Yep, it's amazing. Amazing that such an intelligent man, expert at observing fine details can be so dense." Sara couldn't stop the grin forming.

Grissom looked at her, confused. She raised her index and middle fingers and wiggled her hand in the air for emphasis.

"Uh, peace to you, too?" Grissom frowned, clearly trying to make sense of a very puzzling situation.

Sara was stunned at how calm she felt in the circumstances, but then Grissom was spaced-out enough for the both of them. When she was sure she had his attention, she said in a composed and clear voice, "Gil, it's twins."

Grissom's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and his lips formed a perfect "O". He gulped a couple of times, and eventually managed to articulate, "Twins?"

Sara nodded. "Terrible twins." The sheer implausibility of this whole scenario was starting to get to her. "Double trouble."

Grissom narrowed his eyes at her, but it looked like the news was starting to sink in.

Then he looked toward Teresa. A glint of amusement showed in her eyes as she said, "Two-riffic."

Sara couldn't squash the hilarity that was bubbling up inside her and "Multiple mayhem" burst from her lips.

Grissom took another long look at the monitor, and then squared his shoulders and turned to Sara, pulling her into his embrace as he said, "Twice the blessing."

END

A/n #2 "Imprévu" is a French word for "unexpected". Don't know why I didn't just call it that. I'd love to know what you thought of this fic.