Just a little GSR fix that I hope you guys like!
Disclaimer: Don't own it. It's all owned by CSB, Jerry Bruckheimer, and Anthony Zuiker. I just like to play with it a bit.
Big thanks to Sara Grissom for the speedy beta job!
Sara grimaced as she glanced at herself in the mirror. It wasn't that she looked bad. She just looked…different. And there were some things that Sara hadn't wanted to change.
Her cousins had come to Vegas to visit, and insisted on dragging Sara around town from club to club, 'guy shopping' as they called it. It had always been something Sara rarely did. She'd tried desperately to get out of it, but her cousins kindly pointed out that it was her night off, shooting holes in her feeble excuse of having to work.
She glanced at the mirror again, which showed a very different Sara Sidle than what the world was used to. She wore a simple, but elegant, skirt, befitting some of the nicer clubs in town, along with a low-cut, well-fitting blouse. Her cousins had fixed up her hair a bit and applied more make-up than was usual for her. She sighed, wishing she could just pull on jeans and a sweatshirt, then go home to sleep.
Adrienne poked her head into the room. "Hurry up, slowpoke. The guys will either have left or be wasted by the time we get there!"
Sara sighed again, then turned to her cousin, throwing up her hands in defeat. "All right! Let's go!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Carla put the car in park and peered up at the neon sign to the club. She grinned at Adrienne, then turned to face Sara, who was busy sulking in the back seat. "This place is nice. Not dumpy, yet not for the rich and famous. Plus, I hear they have great food here. Guys dig good food."
Sara smirked. "Right. I really want to hook up with a guy who's stuffing his face."
Adrienne shook her head as she opened her door. "Relax, Sara. It'll be fun. Maybe you'll meet your Mr. Right."
Sara rolled her eyes, but opened her door anyway. "Yeah right…" she muttered.
They made their way to the line waiting to get inside. A guard was checking ID's, and Sara did notice a couple of kids getting drug away. She shook her head at this, then tried to ignore her cousins as they giggled and whispered every time a guy looked their way.
Adrienne noticed her disinterest and inched up to her. "You really should try to have fun, Sara. What could it hurt? Just flirt a little bit. Who knows, you may like it."
"Right. But if you've seen half of the things I've seen result from a little flirting, you'd think twice about it."
Adrienne rolled her eyes. "That job ruined you. You used to love this kind of thing."
"Well, my job helps me see more of the human nature. The good, and the bad." She glanced into the crowd, and noticed a young man staring at her.
He noticed that she was looking back at him and gave her a cocky smile.
Sara rolled her eyes; the guy was acting just like Greg, though she would play back with the lab rat.
The line finally got moving after another group of under aged partiers was taken away.
Sara flashed her ID briefly at the guard before stepping into the club. She paused a moment at the doorway, half to wait for her cousins, and half to scope the place out.
She shrugged to herself, noting that the place wasn't that bad. It was actually quite nice. The whole place was softly lit, and seemed to be a combination of a bar, club, and restaurant. Tables were set up throughout the interior, some facing a stage. There was a bar in the middle, where sports fans could sit on stools to watch the games as they ate. Off to the other side was a dance floor, which at the moment was filled with people grinding against each other to a song Sara didn't know. Techno, she thought. There also seemed to be a spot dedicated to mingling, where friends could stand and chat, hoping that a guy would come and ask them to dance.
Sara's examinations were interrupted when Carla and Adrienne grasped her arms and pulled her deeper into the club, laughing at some secret joke. Carla left, then came back with drinks for them. Sara gladly took one, desperate for anything that might make her more comfortable with the whole 'guy shopping' experience. She had to admit, though, a few years before, she'd have been one of the girls. Just a-laughing and a-flirting away, leading on every guy that she could.
But she no longer did that. She no longer felt the need to play with the men, to lead them on. To have a new man every week, no long term relationships. Something had changed, and it had started when she came to Vegas.
She shook her head, then turned her attention back to Adrienne, whose discussion included something about a dress that was 'to die for'. She listened half-heartedly for a few minutes, then excused herself to get a refill on her drink. She headed towards the bar, spotting an empty seat next to a man who was watching a baseball game as he ate. He didn't seem very interested in the people around him. She grinned and headed towards the stool, thinking it a perfect place to disappear.
She sank quickly onto the stool, making sure that no one could take it before her. She waved a hand at the bartender. "Hey! Could I get some red wine here?" she asked. She wanted something to help her relax, but nothing that would quickly get her wasted. The bartender nodded, then went to preparing the drink. Sara nodded to herself, then idly glanced at the man next to her.
He turned away from the TV for a moment to glance down at his food, and Sara's jaw dropped. The graying hair, the intense eyes, the eternally calm expression. It could only be one person. "Grissom?" she blurted out.
He looked up at her briefly, choking on his food when recognition set in. It took him a moment to compose himself, and after taking a swig of the beer in front of him, he turned fully to Sara, who was looking at him with raised eyebrows. "Sara, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"I came with my cousins. What are you doing here, Grissom?"
He waved a hand at the TV. "Watching a baseball game. And," he looked down at his food, "trying to enjoy my meal."
Sara smiled. Of all the people to run into, it had to be Grissom. The one person in the world she believed to lack more people skills than herself, out in public. She shifted in her chair to face him. "So…"
His face was unreadable as he stared at her, looking down only to mess with his food. "So…" he said. Whether it was to mock her or not, she wasn't sure.
She smirked at him, and was rewarded with a smile in return. She glanced over at the crowd of people again, deciding that she'd rather stay and chat with Grissom than pretend to be interested in what they were talking about. She turned back to Grissom, who was still staring at her.
He noticed where she had been looking, then turned back to his food. "If you need to go back over with them, that's fine. Don't let me keep you."
She put a hand on his shoulder almost unconsciously. "No, I'm not staying because I feel sorry for you, if that's what you're thinking."
He smirked. "Thought never crossed my mind," he said, his eyes resting briefly on her hand.
"I just…" she shook her head. "I'm just not interested in some of the things they have to talk about or do."
Grissom shrugged. "Nor do I. I don't come here for the people." He looked pointedly at his plate. "I come for the food."
Sara grinned. "I believe that."
He glanced down at his food for a moment before looking up at her. He seemed as though he were trying to make up his mind about something difficult. "You…hungry?" he finally asked.
"Huh?" Sara asked, turning away from the TV to look at him again, her face betraying her surprise. Had Grissom just said what she thought he'd said?
"I asked if you were hungry."
Sara grinned. "Yeah, a little."
Grissom slid a menu over to her. "Order something. My treat," he added.
Her smile widened as she opened the menu. Perhaps this was a Grissom way of reaching out to her. She sighed. It had taken him long enough. She skimmed over the contents for a moment, then peered at Grissom over the top of the paper.
He was staring straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought, though he was nervously tapping his fork on the plate. He glanced over at her briefly, quickly looking away when he saw that she was looking at him.
She slid the menu back over to him. "Answer a question for me?"
He shrugged. "Sure."
"Is this going to be a friendly co-worker dinner, or is this a personal see-what-happens dinner?" she asked, leaning closer to him.
He stared at her for a moment, the shrugged. "Whatever you choose to take it as."
Sara stared at him, the shocked expression on her face renewed. Whatever she had expected him to say, that certainly wasn't it. She quickly gathered herself and smiled. "I'll have whatever you're having."
He arched an eyebrow at her. "You sure? They do serve meat here, you know."
She pointed to his plate. "Yeah, but that is fish. I think I can handle fish."
He smirked, then flagged down a waiter. "Could I get another special here?"
The waiter glanced from Grissom to Sara, a small smile on his face. "Of course. Would you and your lady friend like a table, Mr. Grissom? It may be more…comfortable."
Grissom frowned slightly at the man, then glanced at Sara, who was studying him intently. He nodded slowly. "Yes. That would be good."
The waiter nodded, then stepped over towards the section with the tables. He stayed over there for a few moments, then returned to escort the two to the dining area. Grissom grabbed his plate and drink, and followed them. He settled down in a chair and waited for Sara to do the same.
The waiter nodded to him, then turned to Sara. "Your meal will be here shortly, ma'am."
She nodded her thanks, then turned back to Grissom. The two shared simple conversation; each avoiding what they thought would make the other uncomfortable. Sara's food arrived a few moments later, and she gladly dug in. She looked up at Grissom. "Okay, I'm eating whatever you order from now on. This is great!"
He grinned, but offered no answer.
Sara ate quietly for a few moments more, then suddenly put her fork down and stared at Grissom. It took him a moment, but he finally noticed her gaze. "What?" he asked, genuinely confused.
She smiled. "Do you realize what we're doing?"
He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. "Eating?"
"We're having dinner. Together, alone, and outside of work." Her smile widened. "And you haven't run yet." She pushed his shoulder lightly. "This is kinda like a date."
He looked up at her, his expression unreadable. "Actually, it's not quite a date. I didn't ask you to come."
"But you did ask me if I wanted to eat." Her face fell, realizing that she may have put too much into his actions than there actually was.
He surprised her then by reaching over and grasping her hand. "Do you want it to be a date?"
She gave him a small smile. "A little."
He returned the smile. "Then it is."
"Just like that?" Sara asked, skeptical that Grissom would be capable of making such a transition.
"Just like that," he replied, giving her hand a squeeze.
She smiled again, then turned back to her food, trying to hide the giddiness that tried to overcome her. It was great, just having dinner with Grissom. After all her attempts, all the time, he'd finally cracked a little.
They made small talk as they ate, neither one feeling uncomfortable. Grissom held onto her hand the whole time, almost as if he were afraid she would disappear if released. They finished their food, and soon ran out of drinks as well. Grissom excused himself, grabbing her glass and his empty bottle, and went to fetch some more.
Not long after he left, Sara felt a hand on her shoulder. She'd been busy watching Gris as he easily glided past the people (a well-practiced skill from his high school years as a ghost), and hadn't noticed anyone approach her. She turned, startled, and looked into the worried faces of her cousins.
"Hey," Adrienne said, sinking into Grissom's seat.
Sara glared at her, wondering how could they dare to interrupt her moment. "What?"
Adrienne's eyes flickered to Grissom, who was reciting Sara's order to the bartender. "You know, when we told you to relax and flirt a little, we didn't mean to hook up with the first guy who glanced your way."
Sara's jaw dropped indignantly. "And what makes you think I did that?"
Carla sighed, also studying Grissom. "Well, just look at him. I mean, he's kinda cute and all, but he seems a little old for you." She turned to Sara. "You could do better, you know."
Sara sighed, suppressing a giggle at hearing Grissom being referred to as being cute. She would have to tease him about that one. Ok Sidle, time to get serious again, she thought to herself, turning back to her cousins.
"I don't think you guys understand. I've worked my ass off forever trying to attract his attention." She shrugged. "Besides, he's not that much older than me. He's only 47."
Adrienne rolled her eyes. "Forever? We've been here less than an hour!"
Sara shook her head. "He's not some guy I just met!" she protested loudly. "I've known him for years. That's Gil Grissom!"
Carla raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he your supervisor at work?"
Sara sighed, wanting nothing more than to bang her head against the table. "He's much more than that…" she said softly.
Adrienne opened her mouth to say something else, but Grissom chose that moment to reappear. He froze at the sight of the women, adopting a confused expression. He glanced down at Adrienne, who was still in his seat. He arched an eyebrow at her.
"Oh!" Adrienne exclaimed, quickly sliding out of Grissom's seat.
"Thank you," Grissom said softly, setting Sara's drink down in front of her as he sat. He looked up at the women curiously.
"Hi," Carla said through a forced smile. "I'm Carla Dugas, Sara's cousin." She held out her hand and he shook it.
Adrienne gave him a flirty smile, causing Sara to roll her eyes. "I'm Adrienne. Also Sara's cousin."
He nodded politely to her, but Sara noticed that his eyes flickered to her for a second. "Gil Grissom," he replied.
"So we've heard," Carla said curtly. "So…how long have you two been seeing each other?" she asked.
Sara glared at her. What was she trying to do? Make Gris feel guilty for asking her out so he'd run? Or just uncomfortable enough to ruin the promising night?
Unfortunately for Carla, Grissom picked up the challenge in her voice. He smirked and glanced at his watch. "Oh…about forty minutes."
Sara laughed despite herself, and Carla's fake smile fell from her face. Grissom simply smiled as he took a drink. Only Adrienne seemed to show no reaction, though she did sense the growing anger in her sister. Carla did have a habit of being over-protective of Sara. She seemed to believe that no man would ever be good enough for her unless she hand-picked him herself.
Adrienne put a hand on Carla's arm. "Come on. I think I saw a new group of guys come in. We should get to them before the 'working girls' do."
Carla stood, but kept her gaze on Grissom, whose impish smile had dissolved to discomfort. She pointed a finger at him. "You listen to me, Mr. Grissom. I don't like you, and I don't like what you're trying to do. I know what you want from her; it's the only reason a man chases a younger woman. And if I hear that you've hurt her, in any way, you'll pay." She stared intensely at a now very confused and uncomfortable Grissom for moment before stomping off across the club, dragging Adrienne with her.
Sara and Grissom stared after them for a moment. Then Grissom stared at his drink for a moment before downing the rest of it.
"Grissom…" Sara began, turning to him and covering his hand with hers. "Gris, don't worry about her. Carla's just…a little over-protective."
He shook his head. "No, she's right," he said quietly. Sara stared, wondering what he was talking about. He sighed and fiddled with his empty glass. "I mean, isn't that the only reason most older men would date a young, attractive co-worker? Why should anyone assume it's different for us." His gaze turned distant for a moment, before he suddenly stood up and walked away from the table.
Sara stared after him in shock for a moment as he made his way to the crowd, then got up and followed him. She caught up to him outside on a small balcony that overlooked the Vegas streets. He was leaning against the railing, still looking very lost in thought. She stepped up next to him, mimicking his position.
"Grissom," she said slowly, "what kind of person do I come off as to you?"
He glanced her way, uncertain of how to answer. "Well…uh…you're very smart, not afraid, don't seem to worry about other people…"
"Exactly," she said, turning to him and cupping his chin in her hand so he was forced to look her in the eye. "So what makes you think that I'm going to care what other people think of us? Especially when what they're thinking isn't true?"
His eyes bored into hers for the longest time, and she could see the uncertainty in them. Then, to her relief, a small smile made its way across his lips. "Right…" he said softly.
She smiled back at him. "I've worked for too long to let my stupid cousins get in the way. And if anyone, you or them, ruin this for me, I swear I'll kill them. I do know how to hide a body."
Grissom smirked, then leaned closer to her. So close she could feel his warm breath on her neck. "Was that threat directed to me or your cousins?"
She impulsively wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him. She felt him stiffen for a second, only to relax the very next. "Them, most likely. I've worked too hard on you."
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the fact that he was holding her for a moment. He waited for his mind to kick in to ruin the moment for him, just like it always did, but it didn't.
Soft music made its way to their ears, and Sara suddenly pulled away at hearing it. She listened to a few notes, then tugged on Grissom's hand. "C'mon. Dance with me," she said, trying to pull him back into club. He resisted for only a moment before letting himself be led onto the dance floor. He glanced around at the couples around him, wrapped contently in each other's arms as they moved slowly to the song.
"Gris…" he heard Sara say. He turned to her and she stepped up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his shoulder. He sighed and put his arms around her waist, holding her gently as they moved to the music.
Now, Sara had known that Gil Grissom wasn't much of a people person. Hell, everyone who met him figured that out. She'd also assumed that it meant he couldn't dance either. But she had been wrong. Where she had expected awkwardness and stiffness, she found that he was actually very graceful and gentle.
She looked up at him and smiled. "I didn't know you could dance," she said.
He shrugged. "Neither did I."
The smile remained on her faced as they danced. She'd danced with men before, but somehow it was different with Grissom. She felt, for the first time in her life, completely content and safe. It felt as if all the world was right. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her head into his chest, to which he responded by putting a gentle hand on her hair.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, meeting his eyes.
A small smile crossed his lips as he looked down at her.
"You're not so bad yourself," he said quietly, continuing to move with the music.
She smirked. "When was the last time you danced with a woman?"
He scrunched up his face in thought. "Ah…high school prom?"
She looked up at him in surprise. "Prom? You went to the senior prom? With a date?"
He put on a hurt expression. "Yeah, I went to my senior prom. But…" he shifted his eyes to scan the club, "I didn't exactly go with a date."
She smirked again. "So…you went to the prom alone, but ended up dancing with a girl?"
He shrugged. "Something like that." She looked up at him. While his face held no expression, his voice betrayed some sadness. She put a hand on his face, forcing him to look at her again.
"Grissom…what happened? Sounds like something happened…"
He sighed. "I went because my mother wanted me to. Didn't want me to miss out on everything the high school experience is supposed to be. So I went, but I didn't have a date. A girl approached me and asked me to dance, so I did." He shook his head. "Found out later that the girl's friends had dared her to ask me."
"Sounds tough. Bad experience, high school?"
He shrugged. "I managed to survive it."
"What was your secret?"
"To disappear…"
Her smile faded as she stared at him. His face showed some regret, but mostly just a profound sadness. She found herself feeling sorry for him, imagining a young Gil Grissom, isolated in school because of his superior intellect. She smiled again and leaned back against his chest, holding him close. "You can stop trying to disappear now."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Gil leaned forward to peer at the apartment building that loomed above him. He pulled up on the side of the street and put his Tahoe in park. He glanced at Sara for a moment. She also was staring up at her apartment, seemingly trying to make up her mind.
Grissom reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I uh…I had a great time tonight."
Sara smiled. "Me too."
He looked down at their entwined hands, smiling gently. "You know, I really should have done this a long time ago."
"Yeah, you should've."
He stared at their hands for a moment, then looked up at her eyes, shifting in his seat. He leaned closer to her, so that she could feel his breath as he breathed. "Sara…I'd like to ask you something."
She looked into his eyes. "Anything."
"May I kiss you?"
She smiled, lifting her hands to place them on his face. "Anytime, Gris."
A smile blossomed across his face and he leaned in closer, effectively closing the distance between them and planting his lips on hers. It started out gentle, but Sara gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer. The kiss became almost frantic, years of suppressed longing finally able to break free.
Eventually Grissom pulled away, trying to catch his breath. "Wow," he said quietly. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and go at it again, but he reasoned that inside of his car was not the best place to do it.
"Tell me about it," Sara replied.
He glanced up at the apartment again, then squeezed her hand again. "It's been great, Sara. Do it again sometime?" he asked.
She smiled, appreciating the fact that he was still taking things slow, despite the obvious fact that both wanted more. But wanting more, and being able to handle more were two very different things. She pecked him once more on the lips as she opened her car door. "Definitely."