Two weeks later, on August seventeenth, Sara was in the CSI lounge with the rest of her crew. They had bought a gift, tied balloons, taped crape paper to a chair, and decorated a vanilla cake with vanilla icing and forty-eight candles. A sign that read Happy Birthday in fancy blue letters against a white background was hanging in the doorway.
"Are you sure you told him?" Catherine asked Sara, worried that he may not come.
"Yes" Sara replied for the umpteenth time. Sara felt so much better. Though her hands were still a little messed up, she was able to use crutches to keep herself standing up on her healing leg. The criminalist enjoyed being out of her bed from the hospital, even though her underarms hurt from using the crutches so much. But it was worth it to her. Though her friends had told her that she did have the option to sit down, she always refused, saying how much she was just thankful that she still had the option to stand. She knew she could've been much worse from the accident, and she was very happy that she had escaped with such minor injuries. Well, to her they were minor, but the rest of the night shift still wanted her to take care of herself.
"Hey, I think he's coming." Nick told them quietly.
Everyone waited in anticipation for their friend to come into the room. In a few seconds, Grissom walked in.
"Surprise!" his friends greeted. Grissom looked around. No one could tell what he was thinking, but they were all hoping the same thing. They all hoped he didn't mind surprises! But soon their worries faded as Grissom smiled at the work they had done for him. He saw the decorated chair, and took his seat.
Then, he noticed the cake with all the candles placed into it. With half a smirk, half a groan, he said, "Do I really have to be reminded of my age?"
Everyone laughed, as Captain Brass, Greg, and Warrick lighted the candles. When each of the wax sticks had it's own orange flame settled flickering on the top, they all said happy birthday as Grissom blew out his birthday candles in one, gigantic breath. They clapped for him as the flames turned into ghosts of smoke.
"And from whom did this gift come from?" He asked afterwards, looking at the flat present sitting in front of him.
"That's a gift from all of us." Said Greg. Grissom nodded, picking it up. It was wrapped in white paper, with a pattern of the word 'Happy Birthday' printed in gold all over it. Not only that, it had a gold stick-on bow to match its outfit. Carefully, he took this bow off, and unstuck the tape holding the wrapping on the gift. He took out an envelope, and opened it.
"A certificate for five years of Entomology Catalogue! Wow!" He was delighted. "You didn't have to…" Grissom began, but Brass stopped him.
"Grissom, just take it. You're our friend, we wanted to give this to you." Grissom smiled.
"Thank you. Thank you all." He told them, though he didn't really express his feelings, they all knew he was very happy.