Sara shot straight up in bed when the alarm clock went off at 6:30. Grissom, awakened not by the alarm but by her sudden movement, nearly bounced out of the bed in surprise. "Jesus!" Sara exclaimed, putting a hand to her chest. "Is it really necessary to have such a loud alarm clock, Grissom?"
He shrugged. "Only thing that'll wake me up. And you're a heavy sleeper too, I'm surprised it scared you." Swallowing a laugh at her outraged expression, he slid out of the bed and headed for the bathroom, rubbing at his hair.
"Hey!" Sara called. "What are you doing?"
"Taking a shower," he said patiently. "I do it most mornings."
"Well aren't you going to let me go first?"
"Uh, I wasn't planning on it. Do you need to go first?"
Sara scowled. "Hair? Makeup? Do you know how much time it takes to blow-dry this," she grabbed a hunk of her hair, "straight?"
Grissom sighed. "Welcome to living with a woman, Gil," he told himself. "And she's low-maintenance as women go." Out loud, he told Sara, "Ok, go ahead then. I'll make us some breakfast while you're in there. Any preferences?" He caught a glimpse of her head shaking "no" as she shut the bathroom door.
An hour later, Grissom abandoned his cooking to the trash can and banged on the bathroom door. "Sara! It's seven-thirty, dammit, we have to be at work in half an hour! Are you done yet?" He heard her muttering curses inside the bathroom.
Shortly thereafter, the door slammed open, revealing a still-wet Sara garbed in a towel. "This is your fault!" she growled. "If your shower wasn't so damn nice I wouldn't have spent so much time in there!"
Grissom didn't bother to try to answer that. Instead, hhe took the opportunity to jump into the bathroom and take the fastest shower he could. Exiting the room ten minutes later, fully dressed, he saw that Sara was still in her towel, struggling with her hair. "Sara, we don't have time for this. Run a brush through your hair and put on some clothes, we're going to be late as it is!" Her hairbrush came flying toward him, knocking him in the shoulder.
"There, now you'll have a matching bruise. Dammit, I'm moving as fast as I can! My hair is going to be a disaster area!"
Grissom shook his head in amazement. " I never realized that you put so much effort into your appearance." The second it was out of his mouth, he knew he was in trouble.
"What the hell? First Catherine, then you? Does everyone think I'm an ugly duckling or something?" She narrowed her eyes. "If I had another hairbrush handy, you'd be wearing it." Turning her back on him, she reached for her clothes and donned them in record time. "I suppose there's no time for makeup, either."
"Not unless you can put it on in the car while I drive."
She shook her head. "Not a good idea, I'll put my eye out. Shit!" Checking her watch she cursed again. "Ok, we have 8 minutes to get to work." Raising her eyebrows, she smiled. "Better let me drive."
Sara and Grissom pulled up to CSI at 7:59 with a squeal of tires. Grissom pried his whitened fingers from the door handle and shakily climbed out of the passenger seat, staying a safe distance from Sara, who was not in a better mood than she had been ten minutes earlier. She was cursing a blue streak and trying to drag a brush through her drying hair.
When they entered the break room two minutes later, Catherine took one look at her and ordered, "Locker room. Now." She swept out of the room, followed by a meek-looking Sara.
As the women left the room, Warrick and Nick turned in unison and looked at Grissom, who shrugged and muttered, "Female shower time." Both men nodded knowingly. "Yeah," said Nick in a sympathetic tone, "you gotta allow at least an hour extra for them to do themselves up."
"Wish someone would have told me that before I set my alarm for 6:30!" Grissom responded. "Well at least Cath will fix her up."
Warrick grinned. "Got news for you, boss – that curly hair ain't going nowhere 'til she takes another shower. Cath's just doing damage control." He grinned at Nick as their supervisor shook his head in disgust. "You'll get used to it. Even female CSIs put on . . ." He stopped. "Um, well, even Sara wears makeup and stuff. And she straightens her hair. You gotta learn to expect it."
Catherine and Sara returned to the meeting ten minutes later. Sara's hair was pulled back into a tight bun and it looked as though Catherine had donated a little bit of blush to the cause. Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Sara shot Grissom a look that clearly said, "We're going to talk about this later," and made a beeline for the coffeepot. After pouring herself a large mug full of the black sludge and downing half of it, she began to feel more human. "Ok, so," she said, turning to the three wary men and one amused woman, "what's on the table for tonight?"
