A/N: I forgot to include this in the last chapter, so I'm just going to put it here for good measure. Ok, I'm not usually the type to be mean—about much of ANYTHING—but in this instance, I just gotta say, "lighten up, people!" Someone reviewed an earlier chapter of Facades saying that I was being "insensitive" to real rape victims with my statement about already having "played the rape card." Geez Louise, people. Look, everybody knows that Sara has most likely been raped at some point in her past—all of her actions on the show point to it. I chose to incorporate her rape into her college years, and then this new deal with her mom came into play this season. Obviously, it must have been something tragic, and a lot of other fanfic writers were doing a young-Sara-getting-raped thing, but I'd already used the rape angle once, and not even Sara Sidle is unlucky enough to get raped twice in one lifetime. The last thing on Earth I was trying to do was be insensitive to rape victims. Please, people, stop being so damn PC and sensitive and easily offended about everything. End rant.
Dedication: I think I'm just going to tattoo Leslie's name on my ass…
Sara awoke with a start the next morning. 'Today is my wedding day.' The thought hung in her mind, crystal-clear and full of promise. A broad smile spread itself slowly across her face as she looked at her engagement ring and contemplated the events to come.
Fifteen minutes later, she was still lying in bed, smiling, when Catherine knocked gently on the door to the guestroom. "Mrs. Grissom," she called, teasingly, "it's your wedding day!"
"Come on in, Cath," Sara said with a laugh.
Catherine opened the door and bounced in, wrapped tightly in a fluffy white terry cloth robe and carrying two coffee mugs. She placed one of the mugs down on the bedside table for Sara and perched herself on the edge of the bed. In a spontaneous moment of maternal instinct, she reached out and tucked an errant strand of brown hair behind Sara's ear. "You're going to be beautiful," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "He loves you so much, Sara," she added.
Sara was truly taken aback. Her friendship with Catherine had grown from nonexistence to true closeness by leaps and bounds, but Catherine had never displayed this level of intimacy with her. She offered Catherine a shy smile before softly saying, "Thank you, Cath."
Catherine lifted one corner of her mouth as she continued. "I mean it, Sara. I've never seen him so happy. Remember Jerry Maguire? You complete him. And I'm pretty sure you had him at 'hello.'" Catherine gave a small snicker through the tears that were threatening. She drew in a long, cleansing breath before changing the subject. "So…you ready for your bridesmaid's breakfast?"
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Forty-five minutes later, Lindsey was opening the front door to Ashley and Elizabeth. It had been decided that the traditional bridesmaid's breakfast would be held at Catherine's house, rather than trying to navigate Saturday-morning Vegas traffic in an effort to go out to eat.
Ashley and Elizabeth greeted Lindsey with enthusiasm, then rushed into the kitchen to help Catherine finish up the feast of pancakes, omelets, French toast, fruit salad, and biscuits with gravy. "Where's Sara?" Ashley finally asked, looking around in bewilderment.
"Shower," Catherine supplied. "She should be out any time. She was yakking about taking extra time shaving her legs, most important day of her life, yada, yada, yada, who knows?" Catherine rolled her eyes playfully.
"Hey! I heard that!" Sara's voice came floating into the kitchen as she emerged from the hallway, towel wrapped snugly around her head and pink terrycloth robed cinched tightly around her waist. "Hey, guys!"
Breakfast turned out to be a longer affair than planned, with plenty of good girl talk and Ashley and Elizabeth falling in love with an unexpectedly mature-acting Lindsey. "I want to adopt her!" Ashley cried at least twice, causing Lindsey to blush.
"Aunt Sara and Uncle Gil would probably have issues with that," she deadpanned. "They like to spoil me, despite Mom's protests."
Catherine rolled her eyes. "You're not kidding on that note, Linds," she muttered. Addressing Ashley and Elizabeth, she stated, "They're taking her skiing in UTAH, for God's sake. What am I going to do with them?"
Sara held up her hands, disavowing all responsibility. "Hey, I can't take any credit for that one, Cath. It was all his idea, and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss Gil Grissom on skis. Hell, I didn't even know he could ski. He's from Southern California, for the love!"
Truthfully, Grissom had nearly knocked Sara on her ass the day he looked at her and said, "Do you ever ski?"
She had answered him, "Uh…I have skied, but it's not like it's way up there on my list of things that I'm incredibly good at or anything."
"What would you think of taking Lindsey on a skiing trip?"
She had just looked at him blankly for a moment before replying, "Uh…what?"
"Lindsey. Skiing. Utah."
"What brought this on?"
"Well…I'm supposed to be her godfather, but I really never do much with her, and I thought it might be time to change that…"
Sara had eventually agreed, her shocked state leading her to mumble, "Sounds great," without really thinking of what she was saying. But as the time for the trip grew closer, her excitement grew with it.
"Sara!"
Sara snapped back to Catherine's kitchen. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.
Lindsey was babbling excitedly to Ashley and Elizabeth now. "Uncle Gil and Aunt Sara got me ski stuff for Christmas. Wanna see it?" The two women nodded, and Lindsey dragged them off to her bedroom, chatting animatedly about North Face jackets and Columbia ski gear.
Catherine started clearing dishes and Sara stood to help her before being chastised. "Stop that!" Catherine swatted her hand. "It's your wedding day and you have a massage appointment in 45 minutes. Go get dressed!"
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The rest of the day passed in a complete blur for Sara. The massage appointment, nail appointment, and hair and makeup appointments flew by, and before she knew it, she was standing in a room at the Venetian, gown on, bridal jewelry in place, pacing.
Catherine, Lindsey, Ashley, and Elizabeth were putting the finishing touches on their makeup as a small knock sounded at the door. "Who is it?" Catherine asked suspiciously.
"It's Jim," the voice said.
"Got it, Cath," Sara said, heading to the door.
She opened the door and stepped outside to where Jim was standing.
"Oh, Sara…" he whispered, drinking her in. "You look…exquisite," he whispered, holding her hands tightly.
Suddenly insecure, Sara ducked her head, bit her lip, and said, "Are you sure?"
Jim leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Honey, I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
Sara blushed. "Thank you, Jim." She took him in for the first time, clad in his tuxedo. "You look so handsome," she breathed. Her eyes filled with tears as she said, "Thank you for doing this for me. Thank you for walking me down the aisle."
Jim's face softened as he looked at the woman he'd come to consider as a daughter. "I'm honored, Sara. Truly honored."
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If the last ten hours had flown by at warp speed for Sara, the next twenty minutes were excruciatingly slow. Her bridal attendants finished their makeup and slid into the silky navy blue dresses Sara had chosen, some impromptu pictures were taken, and finally, a knock sounded at the door. Catherine cracked it open and peeked around the edge, grinning when she saw who was standing there. "Back so soon, Jim?" she quipped, opening the door further to allow him entry.
Jim Brass stepped into the room carrying an exquisite bouquet of roses. "Delivery for the bride," he announced as he handed the bouquet to Sara. Sara grinned broadly as she accepted the flowers and eagerly dug for the enclosed card. Her eyes misted as she read the name on the envelope. Sara Grissom. She opened the envelope carefully and retrieved the enclosed card. She read the words that Grissom had inscribed in his neat, masculine script.
My dearest love,
Today is living proof that sometimes, dreams DO come true.
I'll be waiting on the bridge.
Gil
Sara's face crumpled with emotion, and she quickly began fanning her eyes to dry the tears before they escaped and ruined her makeup. Brass smiled gently and reached in to kiss her cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen him so excited, Sara."
Sara gave him a watery smile and took a few deep breaths. "How much longer?" she asked. Brass glanced down at his watch.
"About ten minutes."
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Ten minutes later, Sara was standing just out of view of the bridge and grand canal. She clutched her bouquet of calla lilies with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, and glanced up at Catherine with a shy smile. Ashley, Elizabeth, and Lindsey had already made their way toward the bridge, and Catherine was getting ready to walk out. She leaned in and pecked Sara on the cheek quickly before saying, "Thank you for letting me stand beside you, Sara. You're a beautiful bride." With that, she turned and walked through the stone doorway and out into the courtyard, toward the bridge.
Sara took a deep breath as the Venetian wedding rep positioned her and Jim in the archway, spreading her train out behind her. Sara flashed Jim a heart-stopping smile and squeezed his hand before looping her right arm through Jim's left. "You ready for this?" she grinned.
Jim grinned back. "Absolutely." His face morphed into a slight look of sadness as he leaned over to gently kiss her cheek for the third time that day. "I'll never get to do this with Ellie..." His voice trailed off, but he needed to say no more to convey his gratefulness for being allowed this special role in Sara and Grissom's wedding day.
Sara returned his sad smile, saying, "I'm only sorry that Ellie was too blind to see what an amazing person you are, Jim."
Jim shrugged and seemed ready to add something when the first notes of the Trumpet Voluntary rang through the Plaza and the Venetian wedding rep signaled that it was time for Sara and Jim to begin their walk.
Sara grinned in anticipation and drew in one last calming breath before allowing Jim to escort her into the early evening light of the Plaza.
Somewhere in her mind, Sara heard the subdued gasp of her small crowd of wedding guests as they saw her emerge, but it didn't register. Her eyes were locked onto the face of the man standing only yards in front of her. As she drank in the sight of his bare face—that magnificent face that she hadn't seen unprotected in nearly two years—her lips parted and she emitted a small gasp. She felt, rather than saw, Jim smile at her reaction.
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Grissom's heart raced as Catherine neared the bridge. Sara, his Sara, would be emerging in mere seconds. His arms were placed neatly in front of him, his right hand loosely clasping his left wrist in the age-old stance of men awaiting their brides. As his breath quickened in anticipation, he found himself clutching his left wrist to keep his hands from shaking. God, how he wanted to see her.
The lone trumpeter stepped forward, placed his horn to his lips, and began playing the Trumpet Voluntary. Suddenly, Jim and Sara came into view, and Grissom thought for a split second that his heart might actually explode from the unimaginable agony of love that swept over him as he looked at her. She was nothing short of perfection incarnate.
It seemed as if a hundred things were going through his mind at once, starting with her reaction to his clean-shaven face. He watched with some satisfaction as her face lit up and her supple lips parted in a small "o."
Grissom had not seen her wedding gown before, and the sight of it took his breath away. The strapless bodice accented her curves perfectly, and her lightly freckled shoulders looked so delicate and feminine in the soft light of dusk. Her dark hair was swept back into a low, tight knot at the nape of her neck
As she and Jim approached the bridge, Sara's eyes never left his, and Grissom was fairly certain that everyone standing in the Plaza could have suddenly disappeared and he would have been clueless. It was the most spiritual, supernatural moment of his life so far.
His reverie was somewhat broken by, of all things, Sara's right leg. As she and Jim passed the last of the white folding chairs set up for the guests, Sara's entire body was finally exposed and a flash of flesh against white caught his attention. Wrenching his eyes away from Sara's, he looked down and saw a tanned, lean, muscular leg protruding from a slit in the dress. It awakened something primal within him, and the logical part of his mind sprang into action, wondering why that was so erotic, when he'd seen the same leg naked hundreds of times now. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of the pure white innocence of the bridal gown with the sensual images of the things he knew Sara could do with those legs.
As his bride and her escort closed the remaining distance between them, Gil Grissom drew a steadying breath and focused on her face once again.
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When Sara finally registered the fact that Grissom had shaved his beard ('For me, he shaved it for me…'), she focused on his eyes. The fierce intensity of the love she saw reflected there almost physically impacted her. She was suddenly drawn to him, as if by some supernatural force. Her legs were moving, but it was as if she no longer had free will over them. The logical, detached portion of her mind had blessedly shut down for a few moments.
She and Jim cleared the guest seating and she watched as Grissom's gaze flickered for an instant, and then settled on the slit in her dress. A deep laugh bubbled up within her and threatened to break free; he loved her legs.
As she drew closer to him, his gaze alighted on her face once more and she fought the urge to break free from Jim's grasp and run to him. Oh, how she wanted to touch his face.
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From his seat in the parents' row, Terry Durham watched in awe at the scene before him as it unfolded. He had known Sara for fifteen years, and since the night he had first found her, half-naked, bleeding, and shivering on the ground of a Boston park, he had never seen her so emotionally bare.
When she walked into the courtyard, his first reaction had been a quick intake of air at her beauty. She was the quintessential Bride, lovely and blushing. But his response to her physical beauty had quickly been overshadowed by his response to the raw emotion emanating from her. Her eyes never broke from those of her lover, and the little gap in her teeth was displayed in all its glory as she beamed radiantly at him. Terry could practically feel their love pulsating between them, and as he watched, he had the vague sensation that he was intruding on something very private.
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The trumpeter played the final notes of the Voluntary as Sara and Brass came to a stop next to Grissom, who turned to face the officiate, although he couldn't quite tear his eyes away from his bride. Jim stood between them, as if a sentry.
The officiate began to speak, beginning with the classic, "Ladies and gentlemen, you have gathered here today to witness to union of Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle. The institution of marriage is almost as old as love itself…"
Grissom and Sara stared at each other, and Jim suppressed a smile as he stood between them. The officiate was going on about marriage, and Jim seemed to be the only person front and center who was actually paying any attention.
Grissom jolted back to reality as he heard, "Who gives Sara in marriage today?"
Brass gave a small smile as he replied, "I do." With that, he took Sara's face in his hands, gave her the gentlest of kisses on the forehead, and placed her right hand in Grissom's left. He then stepped away and took his place next to Warrick as the head of Grissom's wedding party.
Sara and Grissom stepped closer together and Sara immediately placed her left hand on Grissom's bare face as her eyes filled with tears. No words needed to be exchanged.
Grissom and Sara simultaneously turned toward the officiate as he began to speak. He moved quickly and fluidly through a brief introduction before launching directly into the wedding vows. Sara twisted and handed her bouquet of calla lilies to Catherine before turning back to Grissom and locking her hands with his once more. The minister asked Grissom to repeat to Sara the words he spoke.
"I, Gil, take you, Sara, to be my wife."
And Grissom did something Sara never thought possible—not in front of nearly a hundred people. As he finished the sentence, his voice broke and a single tear slipped down his face. Sara's lips parted slightly in surprise, and he gave her a half smile and a small shrug before continuing.
"…to have and hold, cherish and honor, keeping myself only for you, until death parts us."
It was Sara's turn. Her voice trembled with emotion as she pledged herself to him and only him—forever.
The ring ceremony was next. Sara had been surprised, nay, outright shocked at Grissom's insistence that they write their own vows for the exchange of rings. Gil Grissom was a man capable of spewing forth quotes for any unfathomable variety of situations, but when it came to expressing his thoughts in his own words, he was, more often than not, reduced to silence—or worse—incoherent babbling.
On this occasion, however, he did not disappoint. He took the small platinum band that Jim held out and poised it over Sara's finger. Sara looked on in curiosity; Grissom had not allowed her to see her wedding band prior to this moment. She watched him in undisguised awe as he began to speak—clearly and confidently.
"Sara Sidle…from the first day I met you, almost eleven years ago, I knew you were a force to be reckoned with. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine, there on that first day in the lecture hall, that I would ever be standing here in this moment.
"I have lived a long life, but for too long I wasn't really alive. Insects, forensics, puzzles, crimes—these things were my family, my spouse, my children. These were the things I took to bed with me at night, and the things I woke up with each morning. I never thought I needed anything else.
"I was wrong."
Grissom took a deep breath before continuing.
"I spent years denying my love for you. I thought the status quo was pretty good, and I didn't want to risk losing the life I had known. I came up with every conceivable excuse for not acting on my emotions, and I almost fooled myself into thinking I had it all under control when a good friend explained to me the error of my ways." He smiled and glanced over his shoulder at Brass, who returned the grin.
"And so, Sara, here we are. Each day with you has been a blessing and an adventure, and I feel like I constantly need to pinch myself to make sure it's real."
Grissom looked down at the ring he was holding between his thumb and forefinger, and looked back up into Sara's eyes.
"This ring is only a physical representation of my love for you, but I give it to you as a symbol of the words my heart cannot find to say.
"There is an inscription along the inside of the band. It is the first line from Shakespeare's famous 116th sonnet. 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.' I think it is the perfect directive to someone like me—for you and I are true minds, Sara.
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters where it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come,
Love alters not with the brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved."
As Grissom spoke the last five words, he stared into Sara's eyes and pushed the platinum band onto her ring finger. Sara returned his steadfast gaze as she pulled her engagement ring from its temporary spot on her right ring finger and replaced it on her left, locking her wedding band in place.
It was her turn. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and turned to receive the ring that Catherine had been wearing on her thumb for safekeeping. She looked down at the platinum band as she turned it over in her fingers. Bringing her eyes back up to meet his, she began to speak.
"I've…loved you for so long. And, I, too, tried to tell myself all of the reasons why loving you was wrong. You were my professor. You were my boss. I had too much emotional baggage."
A deep breath.
"But it turns out that some things are just meant to be, and that you can't deny them, no matter how hard you try." She said this last with a small shrug of one shoulder, a half smile, and a slight tilt of her head.
"The past few months have been the most rewarding and fulfilling of my life. I've learned things that four years at Harvard and another two at Berkeley couldn't teach me. For the first time in my life, I've willingly given a part of myself away—my heart.
"Your ring also has an inscription inside it—but the quote is not from Shakespeare. It is from Gil Grissom."
His eyes widened in surprise.
"The quote is the most important thing you've ever taught me—both in work and in life."
Grissom squinted at the tiny writing as Sara continued.
" 'The evidence never lies.'" She smiled. "Before you were my lover, you were my mentor. And our feelings were obvious. The evidence didn't lie.
"You've always worried that you couldn't be everything I needed, but the truth is…you've been more than I ever thought I could need. You fit me perfectly in every way. And I love you," she finished, slipping the ring onto his left ring finger. She looked up into his face, her vision blurred by tears.
Grissom looked down at the platinum band adorning his finger as if making sure it was really there. He looked back up into Sara's watery eyes and caressed her cheek.
Sara reached around and took her flowers back from Catherine before the officiate took over once more, saying, "Inasmuch as this man and this woman have pledged their lives to one another, by the power given to me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce them husband and wife. Gil, you may kiss your bride."
Sara displayed her megawatt Sara Sidle smile, and Grissom added his own bright smile to the mix. Slowly, he leaned forward, placing his left hand on her waist, and taking her face and neck in his right. Gently, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her with an intensity she never thought possible—not in front of so many onlookers. The kiss was slow, sweet, and warm. His tongue barely grazed hers, and he took her bottom lip between both of his lips as he pulled out of the kiss, then leaned their foreheads together before kissing the tip of her nose.
They turned to face the crowd, grinning madly, and the officiate gestured, saying, "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert Grissom."
Grissom unexpectedly threw his arms around Sara and spun her into an impromptu hug, causing her to laugh giddily. When he put her down, she took the time to glance at the wedding party. Catherine was grinning broadly through the tears streaming down her face, as were Ashley and Elizabeth. Lindsey was displaying a bright smile, sans tears, and the guys were all flashing more teeth than Sara thought she'd ever seen in her life. Brass and Nick were the only two men who looked as if they might have teared up a little before recovering their manhood.
The trumpeter took up his horn once more as Grissom and Sara descended the bridge together, followed by their wedding party. When they reached the archway that led back inside the Venetian, Grissom swept Sara into his arms once more, spinning her around gleefully.
"You have just made me the happiest man in the world," he breathed into her ear. "I love you so much."
She leaned back and looked at him, grinning. "And I you. Come on, let's take some pictures and have a party!"
Whoo! That was a long chapter, and a tough one to write, at that.
Side note: someone reviewed complaining that Catherine's hair is blonde, not strawberry blonde, and I just have to say, I dig to beffer (sorry, inside joke between me and the husband). Uma Thurman has blonde hair. Poppy Montgomery has blonde hair. Emily Procter has blonde hair. Debra Messing has red hair. Gillian Anderson has red hair. And Nicole Kidman has red hair (sometimes…although she does go the strawberry blonde route sometimes). As far as I'm concerned, Marg Helgenberger is too blonde to be a redhead, and too redheaded to be a blonde. She falls right there in the middle. So I'm sorry if I have once again pissed somebody off by incorrectly "classifying" her hair color, but the woman just has too much red in her hair to be considered blonde (not to mention her classic redhead's complexion).
Oh, yeah, and several of you have been so sweet as to ask me how teaching is going. It's amazing and I love it, but I am SO tired all the time. And my kids border on being complete idiots at times. For example, yesterday I had them watch the inauguration during class, just for a civics lesson, since I'm sure they don't get much political exposure. So I asked them who our US Representative was (Zach Wamp). No one knew. I asked them who our two US Senators were (Bill Frist and Lamar Alexander). No one knew. I asked them who the governor of Tennessee is (Phil Bredesen). No one knew. Finally, in a fit of exasperation, I asked them who the vice president of the United States is. I shit you not, NO ONE IN MY SECOND PERIOD CLASS KNEW THE ANSWER TO THE QUESTION. And I expect them to be able to grasp Linnaean hierarchy, binomial nomenclature, and the inner workings of cells? Sheesh.