A/N: So we are covered in a quarter-inch of ice. Nice. It's not the fourteen feet of snow that Leslie's buried under, but hey, it's nice to get a little winter weather every now and then. But why, oh, why couldn't it have happened on a weekday?

Sara woke up in her own bed, in her own apartment, alone for the first time in weeks.

And she smiled.

Her wedding day had finally arrived, and she was surprised to find that she had no butterflies, no qualms, no last-minute sweats. She was excited.

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Across town, Grissom awoke to the blaring of a classic rock station. Slapping the alarm clock, he reached for Sara, only to remember that she had stayed at her apartment last night. He smiled as his thoughts cleared and he remembered that it was his wedding day.

He was just rolling out of bed when his cell phone rang. He grinned and rolled his eyes as he looked at the caller ID. Flipping the phone open, he drawled into it, "Yes, Catherine?"

"Good morning, handsome!" she squeaked cheerfully. "Are you ready for the biggest day of your life?"

"Yes, Catherine," he grinned in spite of himself. "I'm very ready. I can't wait to see this amazing bargain of a dress that you two have talked so much about."

"It's pretty sad if you're only interested in the dress, Gil," she needled.

"Ok, ok, I admit it. I can't wait to see one Sara Sidle wearing said dress."

"Good boy. By the way, your wedding gift to Sara was exquisite. I'll see you in three hours at the park."

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Sara stood in the pavilion, looking at herself in the full-length mirror Catherine had so thoughtfully supplied. She was grinning like the Cheshire cat, suddenly thrilled beyond words that the guys (and Grissom) had talked her into having an actual wedding. She felt, for lack of better words, like a princess.

Her gown was simple—an ivory color, just as she had wanted, and strapless. There was a single line of tiny beading at the top, and the gown fell loosely to the ground at her feet, hugging the curves of her waist and hips before flowing freely to the ground. She had no train, and no veil or headpiece. Catherine had pulled her dark hair into a low, tight knot at the nape of her neck.

She was wearing Grissom's wedding gift—a delicate sterling silver chain with a single diamond pendant, and matching diamond earrings.

Sara smiled as she remembered her reaction the night before, when he had handed her the gift-wrapped box. "Your wedding gift," he said.

She brushed her fingers across his face in a loving gesture before she took the box from him. She sat down on his couch as she eagerly tore the paper off, revealing a square box of black velvet—about the size of a small book. She looked up at him in surprise. "Open it," he encouraged.

She complied, gently lifting the lid with trembling fingers. A small gasp escaped her lips when she saw the objects inside. She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes. "You didn't have to do this," she said, shakily.

"I wanted to," he replied solemnly. "You deserve it."

"Sara!" Catherine's voice cut through her reverie.

"Hmm?" she said dreamily.

"I asked if you were ready! It's almost time."

Sara graced her with a wide smile. "I'm excited. By the way, you look really beautiful, Cath."

Catherine shook her head. "Not nearly as much as you do. Poor Greg's eyes are going to pop out of his head. Not to mention Grissom's," she smirked.

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Warrick's buddy pulled his trumpet to his lips and began to play a slow tune as Grissom and Jim stepped to the edge of the small lake, beneath the arching trellis that had been set up for the occasion. The justice of the peace, whom Sara had simply taken to calling "Gerund-dude," took his place in the center of the arch, just to Grissom's right.

The thirty or so guests turned their heads as Catherine strolled down the aisle, her small bouquet of wildflowers firmly in hand. Warrick looked particularly appreciative of the slim-fitting navy blue dress she wore, but was doing his best to be subtle about his admiration.

The trumpeter wrapped his song up, took a couple of deep breaths, and placed his horn against his lips once more. As he began playing a lively bridal march, Sara emerged from a grove of trees, absolutely radiant. Brass suppressed a smile as he heard Grissom's quick intake of breath; he had to give his friend that—he was marrying a stunning woman.

Sara's eyes locked with Grissom's as she walked slowly toward him, her own wildflowers clutched closely to her. She grinned happily and stared him down, as if having some secret conversation that only she and he could decipher.

She reached the archway and took her place to Catherine's left. Her eyes remained locked on Grissom's, even as Gerund-dude began to speak.

He gave the introduction, then Grissom and Sara moved fluidly through their vows, seemingly never taking their eyes off of one another. When it came time for the ring ceremony, Sara reluctantly tore her eyes away from his in order to turn around and trade Catherine her bouquet for Grissom's wedding band. She turned back toward him and repeated the proper words. The moment that she slipped the wedding band on his finger seemed surreal, ethereal, dream-like. It couldn't possibly be true—could it? Was it possible that she, Sara Sidle, was placing a wedding band on the finger of one Gil Grissom? Surely not.

But alas, she did not awaken. She looked into his face as he spoke the same words to her and slipped a matching band upon her finger. She looked down in disbelief, as if staring at the simple ring for long enough would convince her of its existence.

And then she heard the words that finally persuaded her that the entire thing was not just one terribly cruel dream. "By the authority given to me by the state of Nevada, I decree that you are now husband and wife. Gil, you may kiss your bride."

A dazed grin slipped across her lips as he smiled brightly and leaned toward her. He took her face gently in his hands and pressed his lips to hers, wiping the grin off her face. The kiss was passionate, full of life and promise. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sara was vaguely surprised that he would kiss her like that in public, but she quickly silenced it with a 'shut-the-hell-up-I'm-kissing-my-husband-here,' and she leaned into him and enjoyed all the feelings that his kiss invoked in her.

As they finally broke their kiss, she realized that their small audience was clapping enthusiastically, thrilled at their union. She and Grissom turned toward the crowd, Sara twisted around and received her bouquet from Catherine, and they walked back down the aisle together, laughing and reveling in the feeling of finally being one.

A/N: Ok, Leslie, I tried to find a level of fluff that would be acceptable to you! ;) Now go write me a smutty wedding night!