Any uneasiness that they may have felt when they first sat down to dinner
quickly diminished within about ten minutes. By the time their plates
came, Sara and Warrick were having a lively conversation ranging from their
weirdest cases to whether they thought classical music was dead.
"You're serious?" Warrick asked, as he took a bite of his pasta.
"Yeah," Sara answered, taking a sip of water, "I don't think I have ever seen Grissom react that badly to a rat. I mean, the guy has spiders and pigs in formaldehyde all over his office."
"And to think, I held Griss in such high esteem since nothing seemed to phase him," Warrick commented as he shook his head. "I guess it's time to find someone else to put on the pedestal. Grissom doesn't make the cut anymore," he added with a grin, which was returned immediately by Sara.
"And who were you thinking of putting on this pedestal? Greg?" Sara teased.
"No, his music alone takes him out of the running," Warrick quipped, " I was thinking that maybe you'd like the honour." Sara blushed furiously and got the 'cornered animal' look in her eye again. "Of course I could just do without the pedestal," he said quickly.
"Yeah," Sara agreed uneasily.
// Open mouth. Insert foot. // Warrick thought to himself. // Lay off on the flattery, man, // he told himself. // Sara's not used to it coming from you. //
They finished the meal in silence, each brooding over the conversation they just had.
Warrick couldn't take it anymore. They had been silent through the end of their meals, and through the entirety of dessert. He felt compelled to join the other couples on the dance floor, but he didn't want to leave Sara a pensive mess at the table either.
"You want to dance?" Sara asked him quietly, slowly lifting her head so that their eyes met.
"I'd love to," Warrick said without thinking. He stood up and held his hand out to her. To his relief, she took it and they made their way to the dance floor, which had couples swaying to the romantic music all night.
Once they got to about the center of the floor, Warrick slowly and gently took Sara's right hand in his left and put his right hand halfway between her back and her side. He wondered if she was going to kick him for doing that without asking, but she didn't say or do anything except to lay her right hand on his shoulder and rest her arm on his.
"You, know, Sar," Warrick said quietly after a while, "if techno is more your style, we could always hit another dance club."
"What?" Sara asked distractedly, tearing her eyes from the spot on the wall over Warrick's shoulder and looking at him in confusion.
"You're doing a very good impression of the 'robot' dance, Sar. I don't think I've seen anyone dance like they're going to be executioned the next day, before." He was taking a huge gamble. The likelihood that she would smile at his small crack was thousands of times smaller than the likelihood that she would glare at him and demand that they leave immediately. His stars must have been aligned, since she visibly relaxed and smiled at him.
"Point taken," She said simply. She got an indecisive look to her face before it was replaced by one of resolution. She carefully slipped her hand out of Warrick's. For a minute, he thought that she was going to leave without him anyway, but instead, she slowly, almost tentatively, slipped her arms around his neck. "This okay?" she asked quietly.
Warrick almost missed the question, but he did manage to answer. "It's fine with me if it's fine with you," he told her as he wrapped his arms around her slender waist.
They danced like that until an extremely slow, extremely romantic song came on over the speakers. Warrick felt Sara shift from her current position, and he reluctantly removed his hands from her hips, thinking that she had had enough. To his surprise, she laid her head on his shoulder, pulled his arms around her again, and continued dancing.
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And this is my fluffy little chapter. Hope you enjoyed, and please review, even if it's just to say hi!
"You're serious?" Warrick asked, as he took a bite of his pasta.
"Yeah," Sara answered, taking a sip of water, "I don't think I have ever seen Grissom react that badly to a rat. I mean, the guy has spiders and pigs in formaldehyde all over his office."
"And to think, I held Griss in such high esteem since nothing seemed to phase him," Warrick commented as he shook his head. "I guess it's time to find someone else to put on the pedestal. Grissom doesn't make the cut anymore," he added with a grin, which was returned immediately by Sara.
"And who were you thinking of putting on this pedestal? Greg?" Sara teased.
"No, his music alone takes him out of the running," Warrick quipped, " I was thinking that maybe you'd like the honour." Sara blushed furiously and got the 'cornered animal' look in her eye again. "Of course I could just do without the pedestal," he said quickly.
"Yeah," Sara agreed uneasily.
// Open mouth. Insert foot. // Warrick thought to himself. // Lay off on the flattery, man, // he told himself. // Sara's not used to it coming from you. //
They finished the meal in silence, each brooding over the conversation they just had.
Warrick couldn't take it anymore. They had been silent through the end of their meals, and through the entirety of dessert. He felt compelled to join the other couples on the dance floor, but he didn't want to leave Sara a pensive mess at the table either.
"You want to dance?" Sara asked him quietly, slowly lifting her head so that their eyes met.
"I'd love to," Warrick said without thinking. He stood up and held his hand out to her. To his relief, she took it and they made their way to the dance floor, which had couples swaying to the romantic music all night.
Once they got to about the center of the floor, Warrick slowly and gently took Sara's right hand in his left and put his right hand halfway between her back and her side. He wondered if she was going to kick him for doing that without asking, but she didn't say or do anything except to lay her right hand on his shoulder and rest her arm on his.
"You, know, Sar," Warrick said quietly after a while, "if techno is more your style, we could always hit another dance club."
"What?" Sara asked distractedly, tearing her eyes from the spot on the wall over Warrick's shoulder and looking at him in confusion.
"You're doing a very good impression of the 'robot' dance, Sar. I don't think I've seen anyone dance like they're going to be executioned the next day, before." He was taking a huge gamble. The likelihood that she would smile at his small crack was thousands of times smaller than the likelihood that she would glare at him and demand that they leave immediately. His stars must have been aligned, since she visibly relaxed and smiled at him.
"Point taken," She said simply. She got an indecisive look to her face before it was replaced by one of resolution. She carefully slipped her hand out of Warrick's. For a minute, he thought that she was going to leave without him anyway, but instead, she slowly, almost tentatively, slipped her arms around his neck. "This okay?" she asked quietly.
Warrick almost missed the question, but he did manage to answer. "It's fine with me if it's fine with you," he told her as he wrapped his arms around her slender waist.
They danced like that until an extremely slow, extremely romantic song came on over the speakers. Warrick felt Sara shift from her current position, and he reluctantly removed his hands from her hips, thinking that she had had enough. To his surprise, she laid her head on his shoulder, pulled his arms around her again, and continued dancing.
************************************************
And this is my fluffy little chapter. Hope you enjoyed, and please review, even if it's just to say hi!