At the beginning of the next shift, Catherine stood in front of her locker, pretending to paw through it as she waited patiently for Sara to arrive in the locker room. She was a little nervous about how well she would play her role, but she was fairly certain that Sara wouldn't suspect anything—not for this part of the operation, anyway.
When Sara entered the locker room a few minutes later, Catherine turned to her with a scheming look in her eyes, as if she'd just had the most perfect idea in the world and required Sara's complicity.
"Sara…" she said slowly.
Sara raised a lone eyebrow. "Yes, Catherine?" she said suspiciously.
"What size ring do you wear?"
"Uh…which finger? And why?"
Catherine looked at the small box in her hand, contemplating it. She pursed her lips. "Mmm…this ring would probably be worn on either the left or right ring finger. What size are yours?"
Sara looked at her like she was out of her mind. "Um, I think my left one is a six and a half, and my right is a seven. Again…why?" she asked, slightly exasperated.
"Ah, perfect, this ring is a seven!" she said triumphantly, mentally cataloguing to herself, 'six and a half.' She continued brightly, "You want a ring?"
"Why are you giving me a ring, Catherine?" Sara intoned in confusion.
"Ugh, my sister sent this ring to me. Someone gave it to her and she didn't like it, so she sent it to me. I like it, but it doesn't fit. So I thought I'd pawn it off on you if you liked it," she shrugged. She handed Sara the small box containing the sterling silver ring. "It's yours if you want," she said with another small shrug.
Sara tilted her head to the side as she gazed at the ring. "Yeah, I like it. Thanks," she said with a smile.
She slipped it on her right ring finger, then slipped it on her left ring finger and held her hand out in front of her, admiring the view. 'Perfect opportunity,' Catherine thought to herself as she sat down on the bench next to Sara. "Mm-hmm," she said knowingly as Sara admired the ring. "Wondering what it looks like to have a ring on that finger?" she asked with a smile.
Sara blushed. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "Just wishful thinking, I guess."
"Have you guys even talked about the idea at all?" Catherine asked, crossing her fingers that Sara would just chalk her nosiness up to her usual gossipy nature.
"Well…I don't know," Sara said slowly. "I mean, we talk about wanting to spend the rest of our lives together, but the topic of actual marriage has never really been discussed," she shrugged.
"Well, have you hinted about a ring or anything?" Catherine asked, playing her part as the office busybody.
"Of course not, Cath!" Sara said indignantly.
Catherine snorted. "Oh, good grief, Sara. Come on, you know how dense he is when it comes to relationships. If you don't spell it out for him, he's not going to get the hint." She paused. "Have you even thought about what kind of ring you want?"
Sara's eyes got dreamy. "Yeah…" she said, a little shyly. "I like white gold or platinum, and I think emerald-cut diamonds are just beautiful. In a dream world, I'd get a setting with three emerald-cut diamonds, but I'm pretty sure that's going to stay just a dream," she giggled. She was blushing. "Sorry, I feel stupid. I'm over here fantasizing like some lovesick teenager."
"No," Catherine rushed to reassure her. "I think it's sweet." She rolled her eyes. "God knows if he'll ever get around to figuring it out, but it's sweet nonetheless, Sara."
Sara shrugged. "I'm happy with him and I'm not in any rush. I'm not going to pressure him."
'Good,' Catherine thought. 'You just let him knock your socks off, Hon.'
----------
Later that shift, while Sara was still in the field processing a murder-suicide, Catherine barged into Grissom's office without knocking and flopped down on his couch, inspecting her nails.
Grissom looked at her with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Yes, Catherine?" he said over the top of his glasses.
"I am," she paused, "so damn good."
He looked at her in amazement. "Do not tell me you have already gotten all of that information out of her."
"Yep."
He shook his head. "I have to hand it to you, Cath. You're good. So what do I need to know?"
"She said she wears a six and a half on her left ring finger, but I'd get a seven, if I were you. Rings can be sized down really easily, but it's a real pain in the ass to make it bigger. Get the seven just in case."
"Seven," Grissom repeated slowly, writing the information down on a Post-It note. "Got it. What does she want?"
"Ok, she said she likes either white-gold or platinum—in manspeak, that's silver, Gil. She wants a ring that looks like silver, not gold. White gold costs the same as yellow gold, but if you want to get platinum, you're going to pay out the ass for it."
Ever the scientist, Grissom immediately asked, "What's the difference between platinum and white gold?"
"Platinum is stronger and more resistant to tarnish. It retains its shape really well, while gold tends to bend and wear away over time. Plus," she added, ever conscious of fashion, "platinum is just plain more prestigious."
"Platinum it is, then," Grissom said, writing "platinum" next to her ring size.
Catherine grinned. "You are so whipped."
"Huh?"
Catherine laughed. "Nothing."
He ignored her and plowed ahead. "Go on. What else does she like?"
"She wants an emerald-cut diamond. More specifically, she wants three emerald-cut diamonds. She seems to think that she's just dreaming on that count, but if I know you…" she didn't have to finish her sentence.
"Three emerald-cut diamonds it is, even though I have no idea what that means" he said good-naturedly, noting it on the paper. He looked up. "I hate to be stupid about this, but do I just go to the jeweler and say I want a platinum ring with three emerald-cut diamonds in a size 7?"
Catherine smiled at him. "Do you want me to go with you? You're going to have a lot of decisions to make. You can buy a ring that's already made, or you can buy the diamonds and the setting separately. Then you're going to need to decide on the carat weight that you want the diamonds to be. And you have to consider the quality of the diamonds, which has a huge effect on the price. Say you decide to buy a loose diamond for $3000. For that price, you can get a really tiny flawless diamond, or a fairly large diamond that has lots of flaws," Catherine rattled on.
Grissom put his head in his hands. "Yes, Catherine, I want you to come with me," he muttered. This was going to get complicated.
"Good!" she said brightly, standing up. "Trust me, Gil. I know you don't believe me right now, but you'll end up being glad you brought me. Now, when do you want to go?"
Grissom consulted his calendar. "Sara has court the day after tomorrow. Can we do what we need to do in an hour or so?"
Catherine nodded. "Yes, if we plan wisely. Do you want my recommendation?"
"Sure."
"She'll end up getting a better ring if you buy the setting and the diamonds separately. That way, you get to hand-pick and hand-inspect every diamond to make sure it's exactly how you want it."
He nodded. "I like that idea. So you'll meet me here in my office after shift tomorrow?"
"You got it. Oh, by the way, you owe me a hundred bucks."
"Why?"
"I bought Sara a sterling silver ring as part of my little plan. I told her my sister sent it to me but it didn't fit, and I gave it to her."
Grissom rolled his eyes playfully as he pulled out his wallet.
----------
Grissom had to grudgingly admit that Catherine was right—he was extremely glad he had brought her. They were standing in Simayof Jewelers at the Venetian—an appropriate choice, Catherine reasoned, because they had spent their first night together at the Venetian. "And besides," she said, "Simayof does exquisite jewelry."
They were standing in front of a case of loose diamonds and ring settings, and Grissom's head was reeling with all the choices to be made. There were diamonds of every grade of color, cut, clarity, and carat imaginable. And the prices were just as varying. Overwhelmed, he finally threw up his hands helplessly and said, "Catherine, you're going to have to give me a starting point here. Money is no object, so just pick something good."
"Ok," she said. "Well, since she said she wants three emerald-cut diamonds, I'm assuming she means a setting with a large center diamond flanked by two smaller ones. What do you think of a two-carat center stone?" she asked.
He blinked at her. "Catherine, I don't even know what that means."
She rolled her eyes. "Two carats is big. And it's going to cost you a fortune if you get a high-quality stone. Add the other two diamonds and the setting, and we could be talking about a ten or fifteen thousand dollar ring here."
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, considering things. Finally, he said, "That's fine. Just get her something beautiful. But not too gaudy. I'm not trying to be her sugar daddy," he said with a wrinkle of his nose. "I want her to know I love her, but I also want her to be able to hold her damn hand up without muscle cramps," he said with a snort.
Catherine choked back a laugh and addressed the jeweler helping them. "Ok, sir, I think we're ready to start making some decisions. What we want to do here is to create a 3-stone ring set in platinum. We're going to want our three stones to be emerald-cut, with the largest stone being in the range of 2-carats…"
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One week later…
Grissom stood in front of his townhouse nervously, patting the small box in his pocket. He had arranged for he and Sara to both have the night off, and he was about to take her away for the surprise of her life. His fingers worried about the small blindfold in his hand as he cautiously opened the door. Sara sat on the couch watching a movie while eating a bowl of ice cream. At the sound of his entrance, she turned to him and smiled brightly.
"Hey, Babe! How was your meeting with the DA?"
"It was fine," he said. "But now it's time for a small surprise I have planned for us. Can the movie wait?" he asked lightly.
She looked at him, her eyes full of curiosity. "Hmm…" she teased. "It is a pretty good flick…" She pretended to consider further. "but I guess it can wait on whatever Gil Grissom has in store. So what is it?"
He waggled a finger at her. "You'll have to wait and see. In fact," he said conspiratorially, "you're going to be blindfolded!"
"Ooh!" she said with excitement. "This sounds good!"
'You have no idea,' he thought. Aloud, he said, "Well, it's nothing big, but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless. I just haven't done anything nice for you in awhile," he said, kissing her mouth gently. "Come with me, Madame," he said, holding out his arm. He led Sara outside and into the waiting SUV, where he placed the blindfold gently over her eyes. "Can you see?" he asked.
"No," she said. "Will it take long to get wherever we're going? I don't want to get carsick," she warned.
"I think you'll be okay," he replied.