'Tis the Season
Summary: And what did Sara give Grissom?
A/N: Response to the Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided. Thanks to Burked and Marlou for their beta services, but I'm claiming all mistakes as mine. I'm greedy that way.
Disclaimer: Does anyone actually read these things? If so, let me know. First person to get back to me wins a "prize". (Don't hold your breath – it's nothing exciting.)

Chapter 3

"I wouldn't go there if I were you."

"Why not? You need some ice," Sara said, looking over her shoulder at Grissom. He sat on the floor, nursing a bruised elbow injured in his fall. Before he could answer, the odor hit her full-strength as she walked into the kitchen.

"God, Grissom. What is that smell?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Potpourri," he grudgingly answered.

"Potpourri?"

He closed his eyes, stretching his arm out painfully. This hadn't exactly gone as planned, but Sara had responded positively to his gift, giving him heartfelt hug. Things seemed promising – until he landed on his ass, pulling her down with him. At least she was taking it in stride.

"I had an … accident in there earlier," Grissom said.

"Today isn't your lucky day," Sara replied as she quickly grabbed an ice tray from his freezer and tried her best not to breathe. After snatching a dish towel from the counter, she cocked her head in confusion at his chuckle.

"I don't know about that. I'm feeling very lucky today," Grissom said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Uh, huh."

His smile faltered when he noticed her raised eyebrow. "I didn't mean …"

"Uh, huh."

"I meant I'm lucky you're still my friend," Grissom explained, not quite willing to vocalize his hopes that their relationship was on a more personal heading.

"Uh, huh."

He raised his own eyebrow at her when Sara squatted beside him, handing over the makeshift icepack. The amusement in her eyes was impossible to miss. With a grin, she held out her hands to him, helping Grissom to his feet.

Once standing, he ignored the icepack, instead keeping his hands resting lightly on her waist. They stood together, both smiling and enjoying the other's company, but neither sure what the next move should be. After a moment, Sara shrugged lightly and nodded to his elbow.

"You feeling okay?" she asked softly.

"Very."

"Uh, huh."

"I'm starting to think I should have gotten you a thesaurus for Christmas," he teased.

"Nothing could have made today any better," Sara told him. "That was the perfect gift. Thank you."

"Damn! I should have given you this first," Grissom suddenly remembered, patting his pockets. "Where's the ring?"

"The what?" Sara stammered after a stunned silence.

"The ring," he repeated, pulling out a small box. When she continued to stand staring at him, he smiled and pressed it into her hands.

Sara opened the box slowly, looking in confusion at the circular band inside. Cautiously, she lifted her eyes up.

With a grin, Grissom took the ring from the box. Reaching around, he took the stack of certificates from the breakfast bar. After opening the latch on the aluminum ring, he threaded the pre-punched certificates onto the band.

"There," he said, handing it back to her. "They're recyclable. There's no limit to the number of times you can redeem them."

Grissom blinked when Sara dropped her head, her body shaking with suppressed laughter. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, chuckling as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Pulling back, their eyes locked. She could see his hesitance hadn't dissipated. "You haven't opened your gift yet."

"Right," he said, taking the package from the counter quickly. With the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips, Grissom pulled the tissue paper from the gift bag. Reaching in, he retrieved the CD case. "That's … nice."

Sara grinned at the mix of emotions on his face. The CD was a rare, out-of-print classical compilation he had once mentioned wanting. It had taken months of scouring online auctions and music stores to find a copy. But she could tell he had been expecting something else.

"There's more," she prompted.

Grissom pulled out the rest of the tissue paper, carefully unwrapping a small bundle. He grinned as he looked up.

"I, uh, 'borrowed', that from Ms. Peters," she said, nodding to the mistletoe. "I didn't want you to be afraid of coming by my apartment. You don't have to worry about being ambushed again."

"It wasn't entirely an unpleasant experience," he said, clearing the frog from his throat.

"No. It wasn't."

His thumb began to rub slow circles over the back of her hand. When she didn't object, he licked his lips. "In fact, it's something I wouldn't mind repeating."

"Well, Ms. Peters isn't here," Sara said with a wicked grin.

Grissom shrugged and let out a dramatic sigh. "So much for that idea, then."

"You don't have to do an exact re-enactment, you know."

"I think you may have a point," he said, leaning forward. At the last moment, he turned his head and planted a chaste kiss on Sara's cheek, similar to the one he had given her elderly neighbor. With an innocent grin, Grissom leaned back.

"Smart ass," she muttered, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him properly. It started tentatively, their lips coming together in a series of short touches that gradually grew in length and passion. Some time later, they reluctantly pulled apart, their foreheads resting together.

"That wasn't entirely unpleasant," Grissom said, letting out a wince when Sara brushed her fingers down his arm and over his elbow.

"Sit down and let me see that," she directed, her concern taking over.

"It's nothing."

"Sit. Take your jacket off."

"It's nothing," he repeated. Undue attention wasn't something he relished, but one pointed look from Sara was enough to get him to comply.

"It doesn't look too bad," she said, pressing the icepack against his elbow after her inspection.

"I said it wasn't."

"Get used to it," Sara said, watching him affectionately when he gave her a baffled look. "To having someone care."

"I think I can learn to live with that," he whispered, tenderly cupping her face.

Sara brushed her lips against his, savoring the deep and lasting kiss. Pulling back, she took a deep breath. "Okay. I better get out of here. We have to work tonight. We can continue later. If you want."

"I do," he assured her. After escorting her to the door, and another parting kiss, Grissom wandered back to his couch. Despite the potpourri incident and his pratfall, things had worked out. Sara was going to give him a chance.

With that, he sat back and smiled.

The End