"Hi!" the three women chorused as Sara stood up and took the baby from Grissom. "You're home early," Sara said, giving him a wry look that told him she knew exactly why he was so early. "Anything wrong?"
"Nope, nothing wrong . . . I just thought you might want to see us," he said, attempting to sound normal. "And she's a little hungry, and since we were on our way home anyway . . ."
". . . you didn't bother with the bottle," Sara finished for him. "Now, why did I suspect that before you even said it?" Looking over her shoulder at Catherine and Susan, she added, " 'Scuse us for a little while, gotta feed the baby. Grissom," she said, looking back to him, "entertain them while I'm gone."
"Enterta . . ." He gulped and looked nervously at the mass of X-chromosomes still sitting on the couch. Sara only wiggled her eyebrows and left the room when he shot her a desperate look, so he sighed and tried his best. "So, what did you three spend the afternoon doing?"
Catherine grinned, noticing his discomfort. "Well, first we discussed periods, then we talked about how men just don't understand us, then Sara wanted to talk about what shade of pink we thought she should look for when she shops."
"She what?"
The two women looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Oh god," Susan gasped, "I can't believe he bought that! Pink!" She slapped her knee and leaned forward, still roaring with laughter.
"Oh man, Gil, you're so damn gullible," Catherine teased, managing to hold back her own giggles slightly better than Susan had. "You don't really think Sara would ever be caught dead wearing pink, do you? Please tell me you don't."
"Fine," he said, scratching the side of his chin nervously, "I don't think that." When he saw the skeptical looks they gave him he added, "No, I really don't. You just said it so seriously, Cath . . . Aw, forget it."
Susan grinned. "Sorry, Gil, we just couldn't resist. Actually, Catherine and I spent most of the time flipping through bridal magazines and trying to convince Sara to look at them. With no success, I might add. She's determined to buy her wedding dress off the rack at Macy's."
"Um . . . isn't Macy's, like, a department store? Where you can buy soap dishes and Martha Stewart brand clothes?" Grissom wasn't exactly up on fashion trends, but he was sure he'd been in a Macy's before and it had definitely not sold nice wedding gowns.
Catherine snickered. "Close enough – though Martha's in K-Mart, not Macy's. But yeah, you've got the right idea. It's definitely not a bridal shop or anything. But she promised I could go shopping with her, so I'll make sure it's not too terrible a dress."
"Thanks, Cath, for that vote of confidence," Sara said from the hallway. "I leave the room for ten minutes and, why, Catherine," she intoned in a breathy voice, "suddenly Grissom does listen to you!" She made a sour face at her friends, then walked back to the couch, followed by Newton, who had for once abandoned her self-appointed task of guarding the baby.
Grissom looked confused and Susan looked cornered, but Catherine just laughed. "This isn't exactly the topic we discussed earlier, Sara. Trust me, he still won't listen about that."
"Do you mind?" Grissom asked peevishly. " 'He' is still in the room and able to hear everything you're saying." He turned to Sara. "Now, what did you three cook up that involves me?"
"Nothing, Gris," Sara said innocently. "We just talked about who you listen to and who you don't." She slid her eyes to the side to give her companions a "was that a good cover?" look and was relieved to receive two small nods in response.
"You're lying, Sidle," he said matter-of-factly. "But as long as this isn't a prank or something, I'll let you three get away with it."
"Gee, thanks," Sara said. "Oh, by the way . . . Catherine said that Warrick wants to talk to you about something important."
"Is anything wrong?" Grissom asked, turning to Catherine.
"Nah. I don't know what it's about but I think if it were an emergency he would've beeped you."
"Okay," Grissom responded in a slightly suspicious tone. "Does he want me to call him?"
"Uh, no. No, don't call him. Why don't you just come over my house for a little while before work starts, he'll be there to, uh, have dinner."
As she had hoped, this statement drew his attention away from his suspicions regarding himself and focused it on his suspicions about Catherine and Warrick. "Dinner, oh really? And how often does this . . . 'dinner' . . . happen at your house?" He grinned deviously. "Hey Sara, I think we should invite ourselves over Catherine's house for, ahem, dinner one night soon."
"Oh come on, Gil," Sara said with an answering smile. "We wouldn't want to invade their, uh, privacy like that. I'm sure they like to 'eat dinner' alone," she added, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers. "Right Cath?"
No response from the blonde, who was glowering at both of them from her seat across the room. After a moment, Susan stepped in to break the silence. "Okayyy, then. I think it's time for us to head out, Catherine. What do you say?"
"Yeah," Catherine said shortly. "Time to go." She gave Sara a dirty look, earning herself another grin from the taller woman, then turned to Grissom. "Dinner. Tonight. Be there." Her tone brooked no questions; Grissom was now expected to be there and would suffer if he didn't show.
Without another word, she turned and swept out of the front door, followed by a more apologetic Susan. "Uh, talk to you tomorrow, Sara?"
"Yep, I'll give you a call, Sue. Now, you better get out there before Cath comes back and drags you out." She waved as Susan nodded and jogged out the door.
When they were alone again, Grissom turned to Sara. "Spill it, Sidle. What's going on?"
Sara shrugged. "Nothing, Gris, really. Now . . . what are you going to wear to . . . dinner?"
