One...more...day. Freaking out? So am I.

Trudy...you freak. Thanks for your bit of idea that went into this one.

I got to writing this chapter, and it turned out to be something other than what I had intended. Just like the last chapter, this one was not planned, so it's one of those 'my bad, I'll get back on track next time' type of chapters.

I really appreciate the reviews so far. You all kick a royal ass. (Except for the those of you under the Queen. I support that in no way.)


When Grissom and Sara got back to the yacht, Catherine was wrapping Greg's left hand just as Nick and Warrick were making their way back up from the kitchen, extinguishers in hand.

"Greg, you promised to not set the kitchen on fire!" Grissom yelled as he motioned downstairs. "What the hell happened?"

"First, I would just like to say that I am so glad you're alive," he said.

"Gee, thanks. The feeling's mutual," Grissom replied sarcastically.

"Cool," he happily said. "Second, Ecklie has got a HUGE bug problem on this yacht. Not that there are a lot of bugs, but that the bugs are big enough to eat my dog."

"Greg, I never noticed any bugs," Sara said.

"We're screwed," Nick whispered to Warrick.

"Nick, how bad is it down there?"

"Not as bad as you'd think it'd be with our luck this weekend," he laughed. "It's really just right around the stove area that's burnt. Greg made a mess when he thrashed around, too. Couple things broke here and there, but I think we're good."

"Thank God. We might be able to get it fixed before Ecklie sees it. And don't forget we still have to get that Frank business off the side, too."

"Can we get back to the whole bug issue?" Grissom asked, taking a seat at the table.

Sara reiterated the fact that she'd never seen bugs and took a seat next to Grissom as everyone else sat too. Grissom gave her a shy smile as he scooted a bit away from her. A little confused at his move, Sara decided to ignore it for the time and listen to Greg.

Greg thanked Catherine for wrapping his hand and started began his tale of how the bacon went from greasy goodness to flaming strips from Hell.

"…so Catherine told me to go make some food. I don't have the greatest ability when it comes to cooking, but what I can make is edible. Anyway, I'm making the bacon and this bug the size of my head comes crawling along the arm that I'm holding the pan with. I freak out and start trying to flick it off and somehow the pan catches on fire. The fire goes from the pan to the stove to the wall. I mean, yeah it sucks that I set the kitchen on fire, but you should have seen those flames!" he laughed.

"I'm glad you're so proud of yourself, Greg," Grissom said flatly. "What kind of bug was it?"

Greg rolled his eyes. "Like I know."

Grissom sighed, "What did the bug look like?"

"We're so screwed," Nick whispered to Warrick again.

"It had beady little eyes on its giant head. The mouth was…well, it had those pincher things for a mouth. There were friggin' wings on it, man. Can you believe that? I'm surprised that big ass thing didn't pick me up and fly off."

"Was it black, Greg?" Grissom asked after the bug started to sound more and more familiar to him.

"Yeah. All of it was. Even those devil fangs."

"Why does the satanic bug that Greg is telling us about sound exactly like the bugs I had in the fridge downstairs?" Grissom asked.

"You two are in so deep!" Catherine pointed at Nick and Warrick, laughing.

"Why are they in trouble?" Sara asked.

"They spilt Grissom's bugs all over the kitchen. I guess while they were too busy throwing them on me to pay attention, one of the bugs got away and it ended up causing The Great Yacht Fire of oh-seven," Catherine informed her.

"You two lost one of Grissom's bugs? Wow, you are screwed," Sara laughed.

"I am so far from being in the mood for this," Grissom said as he rubbed his temples. "Ecklie is going to have my ass for this. I was supposed to be babysitting this heap and you have all made it into a shrine to everything that is wrong with alcohol."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Nick muttered, cracking open a beer.

"Oh, really? Well, Nicky, have you found Ecklie's life raft yet? Do any of you have a clue yet as to just who the hell that Frank guy is? I mean, is he a genuinely good guy or is he the latest ritualistic serial killer? How about that fire you just put out not ten minutes ago? Are you telling me that all of these things just made me into the poster child for yacht-sitting?"

"I'd hire you," Greg shrugged.

Warrick laughed as he nodded. "Sure. You make it really interesting."

"Not the point!" Grissom yelled.

"Oh, Gil, calm down. We still have plenty of time until Ecklie shows his holy baldness around here. We'll be fine," Catherine reassured him. "The whole point of this time here was to have fun. We've all had a wonderful time so far. Haven't you?"

"How can I when every damn time I go to, people yell down the stairs or call me?!" Grissom yelled and stormed off.

Shocked, Greg asked, "Uh, what does that mean?"

Nick cracked a smile and teasingly said, "Maybe we should ask Sara."

Her eyes went wide. "Why the hell would you need to ask me?"

"Oh, I don't know," Warrick said in a playful tone. "No one yelled down the steps when any of us were with him." He motioned to everyone at the table but her. "Then you've got the fact that the only time he's been called during this whole yacht sitting gig…well, he's been with you, Sara."

"That…yeah, um…that proves nothing," she said nervously.

"Sara, look, we already know what almost happened in the bathroom." Catherine smiled.

Sara wanted to throw up. "And what almost happened in the bathroom?"

"Well, Grissom was about to kiss you, but Nick's stupidity walked right in on you."

Sara snorted, "Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen!"

A discouraged look took over the table.

"Come on, you guys! You really think Grissom and I were about to make-out in the bathroom? What universe are you all living in? Look, I don't know what he's talking about. Maybe there was some roach crawling up a tree in the woods before Catherine called him, but we weren't doing anything."

"But-"

"But nothing," she said, walking off to go find Grissom and yell at him for leaving her to fend for herself like that.

"You guys really think they were going to make-out in the bathroom?" Greg asked.

"That's what Nick said," Catherine answered.

"No, that's what you interpreted," he defended.

"Regardless, they've got something going. We've just got to figure out what it is. He held her hand to help her onto the yacht, then moved his chair away from her when we sat down. He doesn't ignore her, but he doesn't exactly act like he did before."

"God, they're confusing."

"Like I said before, God just needs to let them do it already," Catherine laughed.

"Speaking of doing it…" Greg smiled.

"What?"

He pointed out into the lake at some women that were swimming.

"Nice catch, Greggo!" Nick said and gave him a high-five.

"I guess we're going swimming," Warrick smiled.

"Damn right. Where there are hot chicks, there are hot guys," Catherine mused.

"Someone needs to go tell Sara and Griss to change."

Silence.

No one volunteered because no one wanted to be the one to interrupt whatever wasn't happening between the two of them.

"Okay, seriously."

"I'm not doing it. I almost died earlier," Greg protested.

Nick rolled his eyes. "It was your own fault, Greg."

"No, it was your fault." He pointed at Nick. "You dropped the bug that caused me to burn the kitchen. That automatically excludes me from having to go tell them."

"Only one way to settle this." Catherine shrugged. "Rock, paper, scissors."

After the competition ended in a way clearly defined by Nick as 'bullshit,' he headed downstairs to find Sara and Grissom.

--

When Sara had left the table to find Grissom, it didn't take her long. He was in the kitchen, inspecting the damage done by Chef Wannabe.

"Griss?"

He jumped about a mile high and turned around, clutching his chest. "Jesus, Sara!"

"Sorry," she giggled. "I didn't mean to."

"It's all right. A heart attack would merely be the cherry on top of this fine weekend."

"Well, you did invite Catherine. You honestly mean to tell me that you didn't see that going wrong in some way?" she said, popping some gum in her mouth. "Want one?" she asked, offering him a piece.

"No, thank you. You know, I really did think it was just going to be just Catherine with me, sitting on the deck, talking and enjoying the view. Instead, it turned into…this," he groaned, pointing at the charred wall around the stove.

"Well, I guess that's what you get for thinking," she joked.

"I'll never do it again if this is going to be the result," he retorted.

"You find your bug?"

"Yeah." He turned back to the stove and grabbed a charred chunk of something. "Greg fried him."

Sara cringed. "Ew."

"Yeah, they're better while they're still alive," he said and tossed it in the trash. "So, what'd you come down for?"

"To yell at you, actually," she said with a dead serious look on her face.

"What? What did I do?" he feigned innocence, as he had a pretty good idea about why she was mad.

"You ditched me up there. Do you have any idea what they were asking me about, Grissom?"

"Probably about-"

"Exactly!" she interrupted. "Your little blow up back there. Do you know they think we were making out in the bathroom?" At his look of confusion, she elaborated. "When I cut my hand and we went into the bathroom to doctor it up. Nick came down and thought he interrupted a make-out session in the bathroom. Your little hissy fit just now left me for the wolves, you know. I just had to lie my ass off to all of them."

"It's not like it's my fault," he defended.

"How is it not your fault? It's completely your fault!"

"You know you chew your gum quite loudly, right?" he tried.

"Don't change the subject!" she snapped. "What is your problem, Grissom? Ever since we stepped foot back on this ignorant yacht, you've had some bug up your ass."

He gave sigh. "Because you're acting like everything is normal, Sara. Everything is not normal. We can't just sit with each other and behave like we want. That's not how it works."

"Why the hell not? You think any of those people up there give a damn if the two of us finally do what we've wanted to for a long time now?" She said with a look on her face and a tone in her voice that gave heavy indication of just what it was that she'd wanted to do. "No, they don't. Actually, they'd probably be on the other side of the door, cheering us on."

"Sara, I just don't know how to handle all of this," he sighed, trying not to look at her.

"I do! You put on your big boy pants, ignore the fact that you're a chicken, you dive right in, and we go from there. Simple."

Sara jumped back when he slammed his hand down on the counter. "I can't! What don't you get about that?"

Her answer was, "you're bleeding."

"What?"

"Your hand." She pointed at the one he hit the counter with. "It's bleeding."

Grissom had slammed his hand down right onto a vase that Greg had shattered in his attempt to escape the demonic beetle earlier.

"Ow," he said, looking at the ridiculous amount of blood for the size wound it was. "Oww. It really hurts."

"Don't be such a baby," she laughed and grabbed his good hand, pulling him towards the bathroom. "Come on, I guess it's my turn to play doctor."

"I think I'm bleeding to death."

"Oh, my God, you'll be fine," Sara said, flicking on the bathroom lights. "Turn the sink on and put your hand under the water." She directed as she dug around in the drawers for the First Aid kit.

He shut the door and did what he was told as he watched Sara rifle through the drawers. "Ow, ow, ow, owwww." He hissed.

"I found the kit, but we used most of the stuff on me." She turned to him, just missing out on catching him staring at her.

"You know I can barely understand what you're saying, right? You smack your gum so loud that-"

Sara grabbed his cut hand. "Finish your sentence and I'll give you something to 'ow, ow, ow' about, Grissom." She warned.

"Sorry." He blushed. "It really hurts."

"Give it here and I'll try and help."

Just then, Nick arrived in the kitchen to tell them to change into their bathing suits. Not seeing anyone, he sighed and cautiously headed towards their rooms.

"I'm sure you can make it feel better, Doctor Sidle," he mocked, "but look at it. It's huge."

Nick froze as he approached the bathroom.

"It is pretty big," she said, inspecting the cut in better light.

He pulled his hand back. "Don't get it all over your face, Sara."

Nick's face was a perfect picture of shock as he stood outside the bathroom, completely unable to move. What's that smacking sound? Are they making-out?

"Would you just give it to me?" she said, tugging at his arm.

"Ow! Don't pull on it so hard, Sara."

"Don't be like that. Just give it to me." She grabbed the bottle of peroxide. "You want me to use this?"

"It'll burn, won't it?"

Nick wanted to run and tell the others, but he stood right where he was. Sara and Grissom's words had him glued to the floor. Just what the hell were they doing in there?

"I'll just put a little on. If it hurts you, I'll stop," she reassured him.

Outside, Nick had to fight hard to not laugh at what he was hearing.

"Okay, go ahead." Sara obliged and added a little peroxide to the cut. He flinched a bit at the initial contact, but he smiled at her and told her it was okay.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah. The bubbles are nice," he grinned.

Nick was beyond weirded out now. Bubbles? Oh, he so did not even want to know.

Sara poured more and more peroxide on the cut until it stopped foaming up. "I think I'm done."

"What? Already?" he asked, obviously surprised.

"Well, with that part. Dry it off so this will stick." She held up the tape. "If it falls off, I'll put it back on, but let's try and make it work the first time."

Grissom toweled off his hand while Nick darted off towards everyone above deck.

"I can't believe how much blood will come out of a cut on a hand."

--

Just as Catherine was about to say something, Nick cut her off by storming up the stairs, yelling, "They're doing it, they're doing it, they're freaking doing it!"

"Wait, what?"

"Sara and Grissom. They're doing it!" Nick yelled again.

"Doing what, Nick?"

"It!"


If only, if only Nick would've stayed put…but, then again, that wouldn't have made for a very good story line, would it?

Go review it, go review it, go freaking review it! (you know, please)

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