*
"Ah," Don proclaimed happily, as the group left the pub. He rubbed his stomach. "That was lovely." He looked at the group. "What's next?"
"I could go for a nap," Sara said.
"Weaned on the teat of watered down American beer, are you?" Kevin ribbed.
She made a motion to stick out her tongue, but ended up covering a yawn instead.
"Well, I have patients to see today. I do have another job," Tony commented.
"We've got to wait on those blood results to come back," Carol said. "How are you getting around today?" she asked Tony. "Did you top up the oil in your car like I told you?"
Sara looked over to him. "So you weren't kidding about your car making a grinding noise."
Carol rolled her eyes at him. "Fine. I'll give you a ride back, but if you don't have that fixed by the end of the day, don't come crying to me."
"I'll make sure it gets done," Sara told her.
"It takes forever for my engine to turn over in the morning. Can you come have a look?" Kevin asked with a grin.
"Get new spark plugs," Sara offered, and this time, did stick out her tongue.
"You'll come by the station later?" Don asked her.
"Not to look at Kevin's car, no," she replied with mock offense. "But when you get the results back on the blood, I'd like to pick up where we left off, yeah."
"Great," he smiled, "look forward to it." He turned to Kevin. "Come on, you drove me down here."
As the two men left, Carol turned to Sara. "You've got a new friend there."
"Fix Kevin's transmission, and you'll have two," Tony replied.
"Put oil in your car and I'll have three?"
He shook his head. "No. You picked up all my books. You're already my friend."
"She was the one who picked up your books?" Carol exclaimed.
"I didn't make her," Tony defended.
Carol just shook her head. "Sad, sad, sad."
*
A spicy aroma penetrated her sleepy senses and she slowly rolled over, taking a moment to clear her head. Yawning, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. After a quick running of fingers through her hair, she opened the door to her bedroom and softly padded to the kitchen.
"I wish I had a camera," she announced.
The spoon in his hand clattered to the floor. "Jesus!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry," she apologized. "But believe me, I'm just as surprised to see a man at the stove cooking as you were when I snuck up on you."
He tossed the spoon into the sink and grabbed another one from the drawer. Although he knew the answer, he raised a teasing eyebrow and asked, "You don't have a man cooking for you?"
"I don't have a man doing anything for me." She peeked over his shoulder at the contents of the pan. "Cheater. That's not cooking. That's last night's food."
The corner of Tony's mouth drew down into a sad frown. "It's the thought that counts. Besides, beggars can't be choosers, Miss No-Man-Cooks-For-Me."
She squeezed his shoulders and gave him a peck on the cheek, much to his amazement.
"You're right," she admitted, "I shouldn't be choosy. Thank you."
"I brought the paper in. Why don't you sit down and read it. Kettle's still hot; I'll make you a cup."
"You're going to make Carol very happy one day," she teased.
"I'll have you know I make Carol very happy already," he declared in mock indignation.
"I bet you do," she said in all seriousness, and smiled when he turned away, flustered by her honesty.
The door bell rang and Sara glanced from her paper over to Tony.
"You should give her a key," she suggested with a grin and saw his look. "What? I'm just trying to be helpful."
He wasn't falling for her feigned hurt feelings for a second. Holding out the spoon, he said, "Here, continue stirring." Seeing her hesitation, he added, "It won't bite. Just stir."
Sighing dramatically, she stood up and took the spoon out of his hand. The bell went again, and as Sara's mouth opened to speak, Tony held up a finger.
"Not a word."
"What?" she asked again.
His feet softly thudded down the stairs and he unlatched the locks. Stepping inside, Carol sniffed the air. "Mmmm, something smells good. Last night's curry?"
Tony nodded. "Would you like a key?"
Carol frowned her confusion. "Sorry?"
"Would you like a key? To my flat?"
"Oh." She paused, at loss for words to his sudden invitation and all its implications.
"Sorry," he apologized, misinterpreting her silence.
"No. I mean, yes." Now it was his turn to frown his confusion. "I mean, no, don't apologize. Yes, I think I would like a key."
He raised his eyebrows in understanding. "Ah. Good," and he turned to go upstairs, leaving Carol to follow him in amazement.
*
"Are you making her cook, too?" Carol asked incredulously when she saw Sara at the stove.
"First of all," Tony began, "as Sara so graciously pointed out to me, that is not cooking. That is heating and serving last night's take-away. Second, I was in complete control of the cooking until the door bell rang."
Sara nodded. "I have to agree with him. You do not want me cooking, believe me."
Tony and Carol laughed at Sara's facial expression, which told them everything they needed to know about her prowess in the kitchen. At that moment, the phone rang. Back in control of the spoon, Tony turned to Carol. "Can you get that?"
"If I can find it," Carol muttered. Much to her amazement, it was sitting out in the open on his desk in the living room. "Wonders never cease," she marveled. "Hello?" she spoke into the receiver. "No, you don't have the wrong number; this is Tony Hill's residence." Pausing, she listened to the voice on the other end. "Oh, Sara. Yes, she's here. One moment please." She brought the portable phone into the kitchen and handed it to Sara. "For you."
"Me?"
"You're Sara Sidle, aren't you? Know anyone by the name of Gil Grissom?" Carol asked playfully.
Sara all but snatched the phone out of her hand, turning away as Carol winked in return.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sara. It's Grissom," he added needlessly.
"Hey. Yeah, Carol told me." She sat down at the kitchen table, oblivious to the curious stares of Tony and Carol who were paired up at the stove and watching intently. When Grissom didn't immediately respond, she asked, "What's up?"
"What? Oh, I, how's your trip been?"
"Good," she answered. "Great, actually. Really great."
"That's… great. So you made it to London okay."
"Ten days ago, yeah," she laughed. "I got into Bradfield yesterday."
"How's Dr. Hill?"
She glanced over to Tony and caught the two of them watching her. She put her hand up to her face to pretend she couldn't see them. "Tony's great. Can't cook to save his life, but other than that, we're getting along really well. I'm having a really good time."
"I'm glad, Sara," Grissom admitted.
There was another long pause between them.
"Was there something you needed, Grissom?"
She heard him cough in surprise. "Uh, no. I… I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's been… quiet at the lab since you left."
She smiled. "Thanks."
He shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "No need to thank me." He paused again before plowing ahead. "Is Nick picking you up in Los Angeles?"
"No, I was thinking of just renting and driving back." She narrowed her eyes. "How did you know Nick drove me to the airport?"
She swore she could almost hear the tapping of his pen. "I think it came up in conversation at some point," he feebly offered.
"Oh."
"Would you like me to come pick you up at the airport?"
"You mean in Los Angeles?"
His laugh was short but genuine. "Well, as much as I'd like to be able to come pick you up at Heathrow, I think it will have to be L.A."
Now it was her turn to laugh. "Right. Not thinking. Sorry." Then the wheels started turning. "But that's a four hour drive, Griss."
"It's okay. I could use some time away from Vegas anyway. It'll be a nice relaxing drive."
"It's also four hours on the way back," she reminded him, as wary thoughts of being trapped alone with him in a silent car crossed her mind.
"I know." He took a deep breath. "I also know that things have been… difficult lately. I think the drive will do us good." He felt rather than heard her hesitation. "We can talk."
"Talk?"
"Now I know how I sounded when I said the word 'vacation'," he quipped, and she couldn't help but join in his laughter. Encouraged by her reaction, he joked, "Think of it; we'll be in a car. I won't be able to escape."
"You're sounding claustrophobic already," she said.
"I'll work on it on the way there. I promise," all jesting now gone from his voice. He gave her a moment to dispute his pledge or argue against him. When nothing seemed to be forthcoming, he took it as a good sign to ask, "What's your flight number and when are you scheduled to land in L.A?"
She sighed, uncertain. Hazarding a glance over at Tony and Carol, she noted they were still watching her, curious. Both were leaning slightly forward, eyebrows raised as they tried to figure out Grissom's end of the conversation. Sara laughed again.
"Do I even want to know what's going on there?" Grissom asked.
"No," Sara answered, "but I'm sure in the four hour drive, the topic of Tony and Carol will come up." She gave the pair a victorious smirk. "Do you have a pen handy?"
"Yes."
"British Airways, Flight 268. I'm supposed to land in L.A just before midnight on Friday."
"Even better. We'll book a hotel and leave in the morning." He pinched the bridge of his nose at the way his words sounded. "I mean, separate rooms."
"I knew what you meant," she smiled.
"So that's all okay with you?"
She nodded and answered, "Yeah. I think that's all okay with me."
"Good."
"Good." She paused. "I should let you get back to work."
"How did you know I was at work?"
"Because it's six here which only makes it ten in the morning there. You've still got an hour."
Now it was his turn to smile. "You can see how busy I am. I'm making an overseas call on company time."
"Don't let the boss find out," she joked.
"Well, when I explain the nature of the call, I'm sure he'll understand," he replied. The trail of the conversation was slowly drawing to a close, so he threw in one more comment. "Sara… I'm really looking forward to seeing you."
Whatever her face revealed, it was enough to get a wink and a thumbs-up from Carol. Sara made a show of turning her back. "I'm glad you called, Griss."
"So am I. I'll see you on Friday."
"Okay. Bye." And with that, she hung up the phone. Turning around to look at the inquisitive pair by the stove, Sara raised an eyebrow and smirked, "The curry's burning."
"Hmmm?" Tony asked. A horrid smell caught his attention and both his and Carol's eyes snapped to the pan.
"Shit," was all Carol could say.
*