January 26, 2013


Sara looked down at her quinoa salad and felt her stomach flip. She'd been looking forward to her meal since she had ordered it, but as soon as the waiter had placed the dish on the table before her, she'd suddenly lost her appetite. Slowly, her hand slid around the curve of her belly to rub it in wide circles. She looked up at her companions as they chattered about their own meals. Nick had leaned across the table to snatch some of Catherine's bacon and she jabbed at his hand playfully with her fork.

"You okay, Sara?" Greg leaned in to ask her the question discreetly. "You look like you're about to blow chunks."

Sara wanted to thank him for the visual, but instead her offered him a small nod and sucked in a deep breath through her nose then blew it out through her mouth in an attempt to quell her growing nausea. "Excuse me," she muttered, using the edge of the table to push herself up from her seat. "Bathroom."

"Want me to go with?" Catherine asked, giving her a concerned look.

Sara shook her head and slipped through the maze of tables that were pushed closely together in the busy bistro-style restaurant where they were celebrating Nick's birthday. The different food smells assaulted her as she made her way to the back of the restaurant where the bathrooms were situated. She slipped inside the one of the left and bee-lined for the far stall. Thankfully she appeared to be the room's only occupant.

Once she was safely inside the stall she stood in front of the toilet, taking deep breaths, unsure of what to do. She really didn't want to loose her appetizer in the middle of one of the most happening new restaurants in Vegas, but her body seemed to have other ideas. When she was sure that the nausea wouldn't be passing on its own, she gripped the toilet-paper holder and lowered herself awkwardly to her knees. As soon as she leaned over the toilet she felt her stomach contents forcing their way upwards.

She wasn't sure how long she had been propped up over the toilet, clammy and retching before the door opened. Sara tried to compose herself and stop her stomach's spasms, but she continued to gag anyway.

"Sara," Catherine's voice called to her through the stall door as she tapped against it. "Let me in."

Sara flushed the toilet and half turned until she was settled against the far wall. She gave the door a push and looked up at her friend, a forced smile betrayed by her teary eyes. "Guess I'm not feeling so hot," she whispered, looked down.

The blonde offered her a sympathetic look and crouched down beside her. "You should have told us. We could have postponed."

Sara shook her head. "Yeah, we'll postpone Nick's birthday because I can't-," she was cut off by a sharp pain in her side. Wincing, she placed her hand over the spot and rubbed.

"What is it?" Catherine asked, reaching forward to rest her hand on Sara's shoulder. "Contractions?"

The brunette shook her head again. "I don't know. I don't think so. Just this pain I've had all day," she looked up at her friend again. "Maybe."

"Okay," Catherine threaded her arm through Sara's and slid it around her back. Using her knees she braced the pregnant woman and got to her feet, helping her up. "We," she grunted, taking the brunt of Sara's weight. "Are going to get you home, and we're going to call Grissom, and we're going to figure out whether you're in labour or not."

Sara pursed her lips, reaching forward to grip the toilet-paper again to pull herself up. When she almost to her feet she froze at the sound of something cracking as the screws stripped away and the holder tore from the wall under her weight. She let out a surprise yelp as she crashed back against the wall, colliding with the stone tiles before sliding down to land on her butt again, taking Catherine down with her.

The two women looked at each other in shock for a moment before their eyes flicked to the metal rod still gripped tightly in Sara's white-knuckled fist.

Catherine was the first to respond with a small chuckle. "You alright?" She asked, fixing her skirt that had ridden up to expose most of her thighs.

"Yeah," Sara breathed shakily. "I think my life just flashed before my eyes."

Catherine looked over and the holder again and gave a sheepish look. She pried it from Sara's fingers and looked around the stall before dropping it into the sanitary napkin disposal bin. "We'll just keep that to ourselves," she decided, getting to her feet. This time she secured the fallen woman underneath both her arms and lifted her. Once they were both on their feet she looked Sara over, her eyes settling on her large belly. Reaching out one well manicured hand she rested it on the upper curve of the bump and waited. The baby was kicking rapidly and she looked up at Sara. "Startled him… her," she noted before removing her hand again and taking Sara's arm.

"Well… I'm not nauseated anymore," Sara commented, heading over to the sink so that she could wash her hands and rinse her mouth.

XXXX

"Everything okay?" Nick asked when Sara and Catherine came back to the table, their faces flushed with laughter as they avoided looking the restaurant staff in the eyes.

Sara took her seat between Greg and Jim again. "Yep," she glanced around at their uneaten meals. "You guys didn't have to wait."

"We wanted to," Greg piped in, holding her napkin out to her. "After all, we're gentlemen," he looked around her to the man on her other side. "Well, some of us are." He cleared his throat, looking pointedly towards Jim's half-eaten plate.

Brass shrugged coolly, taking a sip from her water glass. "Man's gotta eat, right, Cookie?" He nudged her with his elbow.

Sara nodded, warmed by his crinkled smile and the sweet tone underneath his gruff voice. Her eyes swept around the table and noticed everyone looking at her. Rolling her eyes she motioned for them to eat. "I'm fine!" She exclaimed in good humour.

"So… that baby is staying put?" Greg glanced down nervously, a blush creeping up his throat.

Sara pursed her lips. "For now," she nodded.

"Damn," Nick swore from across the table, finally pulling everyone's attention off Sara. "Here I was hoping for someone to share my birthday with."

The group launched into a debate about when the baby would be born, which quickly turned into other topics and then fragmented into smaller conversations held between two or three people. Sara listened to Greg and Nick' banter about who had the highest solve rate. Nick argued that it would have to be home, considering that he had more years on Greg, while Greg countered that his lab work counted towards his tally.

She picked at her salad, scooping it up before turning her fork over to watch it fall back to her plate. Her phone buzzed from her purse that hung over the back of her chair and she fished it out. The main screen announced a text from her husband. Flipping it open her brow furrowed at the single sentence.

You look tired.

She frowned in confusion. Grissom was on shift, which is why he hadn't been able to attend the celebration. Her eyes flicked up and she searched the restaurant. The buzzing of her phone pulled her attention down to her lap again.

You must work on your observation skills, dear. Two o'clock.

Looking up again her eyes settled on the figure leaning against the wall next to the door, a phone flipped open in his palm. He offered her a small wave and motioned for her to join him. Sara looked around the table again at her friends and then back at her husband, offering him a sheepish look. Her phone buzzed again.

Let's go home. I need a bath and you look like you need a massage.

Decided, Sara cleared her throat. "I'm kind of tired…" She ventured, trailing off.

"Of course!" Nick looked at his watch and got to his feet. "You need a ride home?" He asked, walking around the table to her.

Sara flicked her eyes in her husband's direction, indicating for Nick to look over his shoulder. When the Texan did, Grissom's right hand swept upwards on his chest in a double movement and then changed shape, touching his chin and chest respectively.

Nick looked to Sara in confusion.

"Happy birthday," she filled him in, sliding her arms around his shoulders. "In ASL."

"Ah," Nick hugged her back then pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Tell him thanks. And Thank you for coming. It is good to see you out-and-about again."

After bidding goodnight to the rest of the dinner guests Sara weaved her way over to her husband's side. He kissed her first and then slid her arm around her shoulders to guide her outside.

XXXX

"How did you manage to weasel your way off shift so early?" Sara asked her husband from her position in bed, her back and feet propped up with the pillows from the guest bedroom. She smoothed her hand over her belly and massaged away a small cramp.

The pipes squeaked a little as her husband turned on the shower in the attached bathroom. "I told Warrick that you weren't feeling well," he said simply, appearing in the doorway, stripped of all his clothing. Sara wanted to appreciate the view but she was a little distracted by the unfamiliar sensations that she was currently experiencing. Her body was definitely up to something.

"And how did you know I wasn't feeling well?" She asked, tilting her head. His intense blue gaze didn't stray from her face and she read his eyes. "The boys called you," she concluded, shaking her head. "They didn't need to do that."

Grissom's rebuttal was born and died in his eyes and he raised one brow before turning around and heading back inside the steamy bathroom.

Sara sighed. "I still want my massage!" She called out, flopping back further into the pillows. "Ouch," she mumbled, sliding her hand around to rub an ache in the small of her back.