A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter up, guys. As you well know, I'm not extremely concerned with the fact that Grissom and Sara are so OOC that we're practically living in an alternate universe here, but I didn't want to go so over-the-top that the story ended up being ridiculous. There's a fine line between wishful thinking where G/S are concerned and just being so ludicrous that you end up laughing at it because it's so stupid. At any rate, I've spent a lot of time trying to make this sound decent. In my opinion, it's still pretty crappy, but I'm tired of messing with it, so here goes. I want to move on, and you probably do, too. So if this is just too over-the-top for you, my apologies. I still like the overall storyline, though...

Oh, and one other important note: If you think the idea of Grissom having insane amounts of money is ridiculous, think again. A very close friend of my parents was a bachelor until he was 50. He had quietly tucked away almost everything he made over the years, and when he got married, he built his bride a 4000 square foot house...and paid cash for it. It's amazing how much money a man has when he doesn't have a wife. So there. That part of this story I did NOT pull out of my ass.

At the end of shift, Sara opened her locker up to find another card, this time taped to the inside of the door. Opening it up, she read the words,

Dearest Sara,

At 9 am tomorrow, be at your apartment, ready for a day of pampering.

You deserve it.

All my love.

Sara shook her head as she looked down at the card in her hand. 'A day of pampering?' she wondered. 'Whatever,' she decided. 'I guess I'll find out soon enough...' She delicately placed the bottle of champagne and the two cards in her bag and headed out to her car.

Grissom pulled into the gym parking lot, relieved to see that Sara had beaten him there. He didn't want to take the chance that she might recognize his Denali as she pulled in. He found a space at the other end of the parking lot from where she was parked, and headed in to the weight room. Sneaking a peek through the window as he passed it, his eyes met a puzzling sight. Sara was standing by the barre with a pair of perfect pink pointe shoes, slamming them against the barre like she was mad at the world. Grissom was alarmed. 'Oh, no,' he groaned to himself. What had made her so mad? Then with no warning, Sara turned away from the barre, and her face was the picture of calm. Bunching his eyebrows together, Grissom tried to decipher what he'd just seen. She held one of the shoes in her hands, bending it a little lengthwise. She did the same with the other shoe, then sat and placed them on her feet.

Sara stood at the barre, slamming her new pointe shoes against it. 'Damn, I hate breaking in new shoes,' she thought to herself. It had to be done, though. When she thought she had beaten them into submission, she turned from the barre and flexed the arch of the each of the shoes in her hands. 'There. Maybe that will be good enough for a start,' she mused, sitting down to slip them on her feet. When she finished adjusting the ribbons, she stood and began stretching.

Grissom had finally decided that whatever Sara was doing had something to do with the ballet shoes. 'Breaking them in, maybe?' he wondered idly. As he was contemplating this, she began stretching, and for the first time, he noticed her attire. Nothing nearly so revealing today as yesterday, but in a way, it was just that much more sensual. She was wearing a black, long sleeved leotard with a scoop neck. She had on the usual tights with no feet, but instead of shorts, she was wearing some sort of black, gauzy wrap thing around her hips. As he watched her stretch, he noted that she looked every bit the elegant prima ballerina. The long sleeves of her leotard only accentuated the long lines of her body. With her hair pulled up, her neck was the very picture of grace. Once again, he stood transfixed as he gazed at her. This time, though, there was a tiny voice of reason in the back of his mind that told him to get the hell out of there before she saw him. It was all he could do to drag his body away from that window, but he knew the voice was right. The last thing he needed was for her to freak out on him. He decided to forego the workout and get the hell out of dodge.

At 6 pm, Catherine stood at Grissom's front door, arms loaded with packages. She prayed he was awake as she rang the bell. A few moments later the door opened and Grissom appeared, wearing sweatpants and a UNLV t-shirt. He glanced at the bags in her arms and cocked his head to the side, grinning. "Looks like you did some serious shopping," he said. Catherine breezed past him into the townhouse. She set the bags down in the foyer, wincing. "My arms are killing me," she muttered. She turned around to face Grissom, who was curiously poking at one of the bags. Slapping his hand away, she growled, "Quit that! You can't see that until it's on her!" He backed away, properly chastised, but not before seeing a shoebox sticking out of one of the bags.

"Jimmy Choo..." he mused. "Sarah Jessica Parker would be proud, Cath." He stood there grinning at her. Catherine gaped at him.

"Grissom. Do not tell me you watch Sex and the City."

Grissom held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Hey, it's a very well-written and intelligent show. I've been known to catch an episode or two," he grinned.

Catherine rolled her eyes heavenward. "Dear God, I no longer know this man," she said aloud. Grissom laughed at her obvious state of shock.

Catherine pulled herself together and got to the point. "Whatever, Gil. I'm not sure I want to know any more about your TV viewing habits. I'm actually sort of surprised your TV ever leaves the Discovery channel. But getting back to why I'm here, I need you to try on your stuff to make sure it fits. If there's anything wrong, I still have time to make the necessary exchanges." She grabbed a garment bag and shoved it at him. "Here, go try this on." Grissom looked at the name on the elegant garment bag in his hand.

"Armani? Wow, Cath...Not bad," he mused. Catherine looked at him warily, and started pulling receipts out of her pocket.

"Grissom...I..." Catherine faltered.

"Catherine, for the last time, I do not care how much money you spent. Don't worry about it." Catherine leaned her head to the side, narrowed her eyes and decided to try him. Before she lost her nerve, she spat out the total. Grissom nodded. "Ok," he said. Catherine blinked.

"Ok?? OK? Gil, I go out flashing your credit card all over Vegas like a New York socialite and all you can say is OK?? How on earth can you afford that?"

Grissom looked at her over the top of his glasses. Taking on the tone of someone explaining something to a small child, he said, "Catherine. I'm 48 years old. I've never been married and I have no children. I own a small townhouse which is completely paid for. I drive a company vehicle. I practically never leave my job, which means I don't spend a lot of free time on outside interests. What exactly is it that you think I do with my paycheck every month?" Catherine looked at him. She'd never thought about it before, but it made sense. If he even put away half of what he had earned in his adult life, Grissom was probably loaded. Grissom continued. "And besides," he said softly, looking down at the carpet, "she's worth it." Catherine didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was breathtakingly sweet to see Gil acting this way—finally—over Sara, but it was just so sudden and so...out of character that it was amusing to watch. She finally decided on a sweet smile as she placed a hand on his arm.

"She's gonna love you for it, Gil," she said quietly. "Now, get back there and try on your new suit!" Grissom went obediently, lugging the garment bag along with him.

Five minutes later he stuck his head out into the living room, grinning. "Are you ready for this?"

Catherine beamed. "Bring it on, Bugman!"

Her jaw dropped as Grissom stepped into the living room. He looked like he had just stepped from the pages of a magazine. Her eyes went up and down his figure in disbelief. "Damn, I'm good," she whispered. At this, Grissom let out a laugh.

"I take it you like what you see?" he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Holy shit, Gil. I think I made a mistake. I can't let you near Sara while you look this good. You're going to have to beat that girl off you with a stick." Catherine could not believe that the man standing in front of her was the same guy that was standing in sweats and an old t-shirt not five minutes before. The suit was cut perfectly on him. She had chosen a dark gray (almost black) 3-button suit and paired it with a crisp white dress shirt, complete with French cuffs. The piece de la resistance was a tie with alternating steel-blue and navy blue stripes--selected specifically for its ability to set off his eyes. And set them off it did. His blue eyes were practically popping out of his head. He smirked as he held out his wrists to her.

"Got cuff links for these, I presume?"

Catherine managed to drag her eyes over to the bags in front of her and began digging. After a few moments, she emerged with a small box, and handed it to him. "Think these'll do?" she asked. He opened the box to find a pair of exquisite onyx and sterling silver cuff links.

He sighed playfully. "Ahh, yeah, well, since you cheaped out on me, I guess I'll have to make them work..."

Catherine bent down again. This time she came up with two more small boxes. "Watch," she said, handing him a long slim Gucci box. "Cologne," she said as she handed him the other item. Grissom popped the lid off of the Gucci box and examined the piece of jewelry before him. Stainless steel with a solid black face. Very elegant. Very Grissom.

"Wow, Catherine, I really like this. You made an excellent choice."

She agreed. "When I saw it, it just looked like you. I figured you'd like it. Now...the cologne is another matter. You'll have to spray some on and let it sit for awhile before you can really know how it's going to smell on you. Here," she said, spraying it on. She continued, "I went with an old standby, though, so I think you'll be in the clear." He held up the bottle.

"Eternity," he said, smiling. "Actually, Catherine, I used to wear Eternity, so, yeah, I know it works well on me."

She gave him a lopsided grin. "Actually, that's why I chose it. It smells great on everyone. I think every man has worn it at some point or another." She paused and then continued. "Well, Grissom, we've established that you look fantastic, so you better get out of those clothes before you get something on them. Go hang everything up very nicely, just like it was to begin with, and then come back out here and answer a couple of more questions for me."

"Yes, Mother," Grissom said playfully as he headed obediently toward his bedroom.

When he emerged a few minutes later, Catherine could smell his cologne.

"Mmm," she said, closing her eyes. "That smells good. Yeah, she's going to like that. Excellent, we have that covered, so that only leaves one thing. How do you want all this packaged for her? How are you planning on delivering it to her?"

Grissom gave this some thought. "Umm...did the nice little designer clothing come in nice little designer clothing boxes?" Seeing Catherine's nod, he said, "Well, then, I have the perfect idea. Do you still have my credit card?"

"Yeah...I was thinking of going on another shopping spree, now that I know you have all this expendable cash lying around," she joked.

"Actually, yeah, I do want you to buy something for yourself, Cath." Seeing her look of protest, and hearing her quick cry of, "I was only kidding, Griss!" he put up his hands to stop her. "Catherine, I can't begin to thank you enough for doing this. I want you to treat yourself. You deserve it," he said softly, giving her an awkward little hug. As he began to fill her in on what he wanted her to do with Sara's gifts, she knew he was serious—he really did appreciate all that she had done.

When he was done, she spoke up nervously. "Uhh, Griss, there's one other thing. Umm...I bought her some lingerie," she said, face reddening. She had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation--an ex-stripper getting flustered talking about lingerie. She quickly continued before Grissom could say anything. "I know that might have been a little...presumptuous, and I hope you're not mad at me, but it just seemed like a waste to go to all the trouble of getting you two dressed to the nines and then for her not to have...anything pretty when...if..." she stopped and timidly glanced up at Grissom. He was smiling, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Thanks, Cath," he said quietly. "Actually, that was a really sweet idea...and I think you're right. I mean, who knows if it will go that far, but if it does...you're right. The only thing I'm afraid of is scaring her to death if we leave it with the other things..." his voice trailed off. Suddenly his face brightened. "I've got an idea. Why don't you let me hang on to the lingerie, and if the, ah, occasion, ah, arises" ('Bad choice of words, Grissom! Bad choice of words!' he screamed internally), "then I'll take the opportunity to give it to her. That way nobody gets freaked out or pressured, but she'll have something pretty to wear if the opportunity presents itself." He was glad he chose better wording that time.

Catherine smiled. "Sounds perfect!"