Chapter 7
Sara grumbled at him all the way back to her house, but Grissom knew that there wasn't any real venom behind her words. "Penance . . . instruments of torture . . . why you . . . hmph." He grinned.
"Aw gee Sara, you wound me."
She tried to glare at him, but it ended up being a smile. When had this afternoon actually become fun? She didn't know, but she going to enjoy it as long as possible. "You know you're going to have to work for your supper – better behave or I'll give you the menial jobs," she teased. "And next time I'm driving!"
"Not my car, you aren't. Now, we're here – you want me, being the big strong man, to carry the bags in?" He couldn't believe what he was saying. He never spoke this light-heartedly, to anyone!
To his surprise, Sara grinned and nodded. "Sure. Knock yourself out." Making for the door, she shut and locked it behind her and made a face at Grissom through the window. She laughed out loud at his shocked look. "Hah!" she called to him through the glass. "Big strong man, my ass! Find a way in now!"
Grissom blinked. "Come on, Sara, let me in. This isn't funny!" She only shook her head and grinned. "This really isn't funny!"
"Of course it is! You're just on the wrong side of the door to get the joke!"
He would never have admitted it, but he was having fun. This was a battle of wits, and he knew his were at least as good as Sara's, if not better. "Ooookay, Miss Sidle. Whatever you say." He knew she heard the edge to his voice, and he knew she was going to run to double-lock her back door in response. Sara did just as he expected, and Grissom grinned. This was too easy! He knew there was a reason he always carried a pocketknife, and this was it. He had her front door lock open in a few seconds – he'd expected Sara to have better protection than one little turn bolt – and was soon in the kitchen unloading the groceries.
But where was Sara? He was starting to get concerned. With a sigh, he decided it was time to go find her. As he rounded the corner from her kitchen doorway, a pillow connected solidly with his face. "What the . . .! Sara!"
"Gotcha! You didn't think I really only had the one lock on my door, did ya? You did! Well that'll teach you, boss-man. Now c'mon, we've got a dinner to cook." She turned without waiting for an answer and headed for the kitchen.
"Not so fast," Grissom thought. He grabbed the pillow she had hit him with and took a swing at her shoulder. He didn't know Sara could shriek at all, let alone as shrilly as she did at that moment.
"Grissom!! Oh you're in trouble now!" Grissom couldn't hide the grin that split his face. Sara apparently took offense at this and took him completely by surprise with a flying tackle.
Suddenly she found herself on top of Grissom. Grissom! "Er . . . sorry," she muttered, and moved to pull herself off him. She was tethered to the floor, though. Grissom had an arm around her waist and their legs were tangled together.
