Disclaimer: I don't own them.

A/N: Okay. So this is a real restaurant, but I don't know if it exists in Boston or if it had existed way back when. And, I only had the dessert, when we were across the country for my nephew's baptism, so I'm kinda guessing (for those of you who may be experts at The Melting Pot.) And to understand a part near the end of the story, you need to know about their bathrooms. See, in the girl's bathroom, there's a sign that says "If he offers to share the last strawberry, he's into you." And in the men's, there was a sign that says "Offer to share the last strawberry with her." :) Which was far too funny not to incorporate.

Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming, yes?

Also, I wrote this in a hurry, so I didn't proof-read. Sorry.

Chapter Twenty-One:

We did nap on the couch, and I woke up slowly, happily, my head on the arm of the couch with her spooned against me, her head on my right arm and my left wrapped around her waist tightly. I sighed softly, breathing in the scent of her hair, and let myself simply enjoy holding her until I felt her stirring. She moved into the bathroom to straighten her hair and skirt and I stretched lazily, calling the restaurant to ask whether they had a long wait—they didn't, which was lucky, because I'd been intending to make a reservation before our condom fight and subsequent spooning.

She emerged looking less than the perfectly pressed woman who had entered my classroom this morning, but still very nice… and I took a moment to take in her appearance before slipping past her to straighten my tousled curls and assess the wrinkles in my clothing—they were much worse than hers, but tolerable. No worse than had I spent the day sitting at my desk.

We left to the restaurant, conversing easily and holding hands as if it were meaningless, though it made me feel warm all over and left me feeling like I belonged to something.

The restaurant had recently opened, and it was a fondue restaurant. You had multiple courses, all of which you either dipped or cooked by dipping, at your table. She tilted her head as we stepped out of the car and walked towards it, side by side. "The Melting Pot?"

I smile, putting a hand to the small of her back. She gives me a confused look, but then we're stepping inside.

"Hello. Just the two of you tonight?" The hostess beamed at us.

I nod. "Yep."

"Alright…" She made a mark on something before her, and then gathered up two menus and an even brighter smile than she'd greeted us with. "If you wanna follow me…"

I add slight pressure against her back, moving Sara forward, and we follow the woman into an area that is sparingly occupied, even though the restaurant is mostly full, because all the tables here are small and intimate—meant for two. Sara blushed as she sat down, and I smiled. I hadn't planned this part, but I wasn't going to mess with serendipity.

She looked curiously at the burner on the table before us, complete with an empty basin. She looked confused.

"It's fondue. …They'll have a cheese course, a main course, and dessert."

She looked a little hesitant, and I smiled. "Never had fondue before?"

She shook her head slowly, looking embarrassed. I grin. "Don't worry, Sara, it's easy…"

She rolled her eyes at me and I laughed, and then the waitress found us and brought us drinks. She frowned down at her menu, and I grinned, asking if she had any preferences. She shook her head, and I smiled, ordering for us when our waitress returned, hoping she would like it anyway. The cheese course was fabulous—vegetables, bread, and a small cup of sliced green apples. It was placed before us, and Sara looked at me with wide eyes.

"I don't know what to do… do you… just stick it in there?"

I smirked at her choice of words, but refrained from making the joke. I picked up a skewer and dipped my bread in the melted cheese and then removed it, turning it until it seemed unlikely to drip, and then extended it to her. She didn't even seem surprised at this—I had fed her too many times, whether it was with chop sticks or for a taste test while cooking—so I strove to outdo myself while she leaned forward and took the bread into her mouth, chewing slowly.

"Mmm!" She groaned. "Oh, god, that's good." I chuckled, seeing the smallest smear of cheese on the side of her lip and leaned across the table, pressing my thumb gently to the corner of her mouth to remove it and then immediately bringing it back to my mouth.

Her mouth fell slightly open and she blushed again, and I was happy. She was used to being fed, perhaps, but not to that.

Next was the main meal—she had ordered chicken and I steak and while our skewers were in the pots, cooking in our flavored marinade of choice, I turned my eyes on her, contemplating. She blushed under my gaze. "…What?"

I shake my head slowly, and her eyes narrow. "Grissom… what is it?"

I avert my eyes slowly. "I just…" I make a face of reluctance and she lets out a sigh of exasperation.

"Grissom… tell me what's wrong!"

"Nothing's wrong, really, I just… I was thinking about… earlier. With the condoms."

She blushes. "Oh."

"You… you said you were worried you were holding me back, and now I wonder… am… Am I holding you back, Sara?"

Her eyes widened. "No! No, Grissom, I… remember what happened with Ken and Hank? I don't… I don't want to spend time with people my age."

I nod, slowly. "No, I… I remember, but… I don't know. I feel like you should be dating… like spending time with me will hinder that."

She shakes her head. "It's… it's just the opposite, Grissom. I… I don't have anyone I want to date, but… but I'm a lot more likely to now than I was before we were friends."

I raise an eyebrow. I had thought to put her on uneven footing again, make her feel less confident in the permanence of our arrangement, but I didn't want believe that I was truly helping her date other men. Had she said that to reassure me, or had she meant it. "…How so?"

She blushes again. "Well, I… I didn't even know, you know… how a date was supposed to go, before you. I… I've only kissed a couple of boys, so I… I'm probably not even going to be good at that, and then…" She looked at the table. "I'll be hopeless when it comes to sex."

I shake my head, and take her hand. "No, honey. No you won't."

She shakes her head too. "That's nice of you, Grissom, but… really… when I was in high school, my foster parents were these crazy conservatives. They didn't believe in teaching sex education in school, so I was never in a health class, but they wouldn't teach me anything about it at home, either… they monitored the books I was reading and everything. My… my knowledge of sex comes from trashy romance novels, my anatomy book, and you…"

My eyebrows are up to my forehead. "Well, surely, the anatomy class…"

"They didn't cover anything in depth, because they said everyone had had a health class. They were far more concerned with the rest of the body…"

I narrow my eyes. "So, you… you don't even know your own anatomy?"

She blushes. "Well, I mean… I have a basic idea. I think." The corner of my mouth turns up, but it's not in a smile. "Anyway, so… I mean… I wouldn't have the slightest idea what to… do or… what to expect. I… it's a problem."

I frown, but she shakes her head again, wanting to end the discussion. "Anyway, uh… I think our food is probably done." She pulled her skewers out, and I allowed the subject change, pulling my own out. We finished the meal in relative silence while I debated with myself.

For her own well-being, I adamantly believed it was knowledge she needed to have. But keeping her in the dark kept her from other men. But just the conversation itself could be another part of my seduction, couldn't it? But keeping her in the dark kept her from other men.

I sighed in frustration as our plates were taken away and the waitress asked if we were in the mood for dessert. I nodded absently and allowed Sara to choose this time—chocolate and caramel—and then there was an awkward silence. Sara let it go on for about a minute, before breaking it.

"I, uh… I think I'm gonna run to the bathroom…"

I nodded absently, and the tray of fruit and cakes was brought out while she was gone. I steeled myself, forcing myself to make the rest of the night run smoothly. I didn't want her to be so uncomfortable that she couldn't speak. I smiled when she returned to table and gestured to the plate before us.

"This is right up your alley—fruit and chocolate."

She smiled softly, and we happily picked up conversation again about her fast-approaching finals while dipping our desserts. By the time we'd made it through the brownies, cheese cake, and marshmallows we were laughing and relaxed, and then we each speared our Rice Krispie Treat simultaneously and dipped it, a comfortable silence taking the place of the old.

The only thing left were bananas and strawberries—she speared her two of each like a shish kabob and dipped the entire thing, while I ate each of mine one by one… leaving only a single strawberry left on the plate. I smiled, gesturing to it. "Do you want to split the last strawberry?"

She beamed. Like, over the top, looked at me like I'd proposed to her, beamed. "I… yes."

I was moderately confused, but disregarded it, cutting the strawberry in half and we each proceeded to eat it slowly. The bill arrived and I paid, and though she frowned, she didn't even protest anymore. And then I led her back out to the car, with my mind set. Tonight, I would be giving Sara some sex education.