A/N: My very first response to an Unbound challenge. And it actually came in under the word limit! A warning: Watch out for the—oh! You just stepped in a giant pile of fluff. Great, now you're going to walk around all day smelling like fluff. Hope you can get it off your shoe.
It was a quarter to twelve, just minutes away from the start of yet another new year. Sara Sidle sat in her apartment, watching numbly as Regis Philbin, taking the place of Dick Clark, counted down the minutes to 2005. 'Another new year, another reminder that I have no one to kiss,' Sara thought bleakly. She had just twisted her second beer open when her cell phone beeped, alerting her to a text message. She fumbled for the phone and flipped it open curiously.
Meet me at the park by your apartment in five minutes. G.G.
Sara's eyes widened in surprise. What the hell? What on earth could he want?
She suddenly realized she was walking toward her bathroom, as if her legs had taken over her body without the permission of her brain. Then she was dragging a brush through her hair and dabbing on some lipgloss. A glance in the mirror—jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a fleece pullover to ward off the cool desert air—and she was grabbing her keys and heading for the door. As she pulled the door open, she rolled her eyes at herself for allowing her curiosity to get the better of her. But when it came to Grissom… She nipped that train of thought in the bud.
She jogged lightly across the street and into the small park whose main attraction was a duck pond. Glancing around to assure herself of her safety, she spotted him walking toward her.
"Good evening, Miss Sidle," he said with a broad smile.
Sara shot him a quizzical half-grin. "Griss?" she said by way of greeting.
He answered her implied question by saying, "Just follow me," and beckoning her with his hand.
As she fell into step next to him, he nearly knocked her flat on her ass by slipping his hand gently into hers. She turned her head to look at him, blinking once, hard. He didn't look at her, but she saw the smile creeping across his face. When he began to slow, she tore her eyes away from his face and looked at the ground in front of them. A red and white flannel blanket lay spread across the ground. On the blanket was a large picnic basket. Next to the picnic basket was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling inside. A small CD player completed the scene. Grissom sat down on the blanket, tugging Sara along with him. As he opened the picnic basket and began pulling cheese and strawberries out, Sara watched him uncomprehendingly. "Griss?" she whispered shakily.
"Mm-hmm?" he replied quietly.
"What is this?"
He paused and looked at his watch.Four minutes til midnight. Enough time for a dance. He turned the CD player on, skipped ahead to the track he wanted, and stood up. "May I?" he asked, holding out his hand as the first strains of Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" filled the cool air.
Sara looked at him, dumbfounded. She fought the urge to pinch herself. This was too bizarre not to be a dream. Standing up, she said for the third time in five minutes, "Griss?"
He took her hand and said, "Dance with me and I'll answer your question." His strong arms pulled her to him, and suddenly, she was helpless to resist. But if she had to be honest with herself, she wasn't really interested in resisting him.
With his lips close to her left ear, he whispered, "I'll tell you what this is. New year, new leaf." He pressed his hand against the small of her back even more firmly, pulling her even tighter. "Please tell me I'm not too late," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly as the fireworks began overhead.
Sara sucked in her breath, suddenly glad he was holding her so tightly. She wasn't entirely sure her legs were capable of holding her up at the moment. She pulled back and stopped dancing, suddenly convinced that the whole thing was a cruel joke. "Is…is this for real?" she asked with doe eyes.
"Yes," he said solemnly. "It's the real deal." His eyes were searching hers; he was acutely aware that she had not answered him. "Am I too late?"
She closed her eyes and leaned back into him. Breathing out lightly, she looked at her watch as it struck midnight. "No, I'd say you're right on time," she murmured. "Happy new year, Griss."
He pulled back and looked at her lovingly. "Happy new year, Sara." As his lips met hers, she felt her earlier melancholy lifting, almost as a physical weight had been removed from her body. Smiling into the perfect kiss they were sharing, she fought back the giddy laughter that was threatening to rise from her throat.
As the song ended, he broke their kiss and held her tightly for a moment, fighting back tears. When he was certain that she wasn't going to run screaming from him, he tugged her back down to the blanket, where they positioned themselves to look up as the last of the fireworks displayed their brilliance in the sky.