Feasibility Study
Chapter 4: Dr. Sidle and Ms. Hyde
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
June 22, 2005 (Day 61)
11:27 a.m.
Catherine sat in Ladies fitting room flipping through the latest issue of In Style magazine. "Sara, what's taking you so long in there?" Impatiently she checked her watch. "You do know how to put on a dress, right?"
"Would you shut up already!" If she heard one more joke she was certain she'd strangle her. "This dress makes me feel so…"
"Feminine?"
"Awkward!"
"Isn't that the same thing for you?" Catherine tossed the magazine onto the empty chair next to her. "There's no one else out here so throw open that curtain and shake your ass for me."
Finally getting into the spirit of the sisterly moment, she quipped. "Only if you promise to stuff a dollar bill in my cleavage."
"Never shake it for less than a ten spot, honey." Catherine stood up. "And what cleavage? Hmm…maybe a dollar is more realistic."
Reluctantly Sara slid the curtain and left the safety of her cubicle. "I feel like a fish out of water."
"Oh…my…god." Catherine covered her mouth. "You're a girl!"
"Does it have to be so…red?" She asked while fidgeting in the three inch heels. "These shoes are ridiculous. I'll fall and kill myself on the way to the opera if I wear them."
"The dress isn't red." Catherine smirked. "It's scarlet."
"Like the letter."
"Letter?"
"The Scarlet Letter." Sometimes she wondered how Catherine ever made it through college. "It's a book about a woman sinning…"
"This dress was made for sinning." Taking Sara's hand she pulled her in front of the three way mirror. "Take a look." The form fitting strapless scarlet chiffon dress with a fluttery diagonal hemline exposing one knee and then tapering down to the floor on the opposite side was perfectly flirtatious and fun for the occasion. "When was the last time Grissom had a cardiogram?"
"Very funny," She droned as she checked her appearance in the mirror. There was no denying the dress fit like a glove and gave her curves in all the right places. "Hmm…"
Bunching up Sara's hair Catherine decided a flighty up-do would finish off the look. "Has he ever seen you in a dress, Sara?"
She laughed. "No. I don't own a dress."
"You'll want to skip the flat iron, put some curl back in your hair and pile it up. We'll buy some rhinestone clips and I'll show you how. Wear your diamond stud earrings but leave your neck bare." Catherine released her student's locks and circled for one last inspection. "We will need different shoes though."
"Thank you!" Grateful, she promptly kicked them off.
"Because you looked like a foal trying to find her legs when you walked out here, plus…you'll be taller than Grissom if you keep these." Picking up the shoes she chuckled. "But at least I got a good laugh watching you try to walk in them."
"And that's why I'm here…strictly for your amusement." Once more she checked out her rear, surprised once again to find she had one.
"Now…listen up." Catherine leaned against the wall. "Don't dress in front of him. You get ready from head to toe and only then do you walk into the room and let him see you. You want him to get the total package and be overwhelmed."
"You're cracking me up." Sara whimsically said, "If I knew you in high school I bet I would have gone to the prom."
"Realistically…I wouldn't have talked to you in high school."
"And I would have been scared to death of you."
Because she was on a tight schedule, she cut to the last action item. "One more thing." Reaching into her pocket she unfurled a black scrap of fabric. "I don't suppose you know how to fix a bowtie?"
"As well as you know how to explain quantum oscillations in quasi-two-dimensional organic metals."
"Talk like that is what kept you from going to the prom." Stepping behind Sara she prepared to impart one last bit of womanly wisdom. "Now pay attention because a trick like this is what gets your prom night off to a good start." In seconds Catherine had the bowtie expertly fashioned around Sara's neck.
"Uh Houdini…I'm going to need that in slo-mo." Sara tugged the end of the tie, undoing it. "If you can get an article of clothing on a guy that fast I can only imagine how fast you can get one off."
Catherine choked on her laughter.
Sara swatted her. "You know I meant get the article of clothing off!"
Regaining her composure, Catherine said, "Promise me that when you leave town, you'll try your best to loosen up. You and Grissom don't have to hide your romance in San Francisco. So kick it up a notch…you've got the dress…go a little wild for once in your life. Do something outrageous. And when in doubt just ask yourself…would Catherine think this is fun?" She winked. "If the answer is yes then you'll probably enjoy it."
While swinging the bowtie, Sara joked, "Okay, do you have time to teach me to strip?"
"Now you're talking." Grinning, Catherine snatched the bowtie back and placed it around Sara's neck. "From the top in slow-motion…which coincidentally, is exactly how you want to start your dance. You see, stripping is all about the tease my dear…the slower the better..."
1:07 p.m.
Sliding into the booth at the Cheesecake Factory, Catherine apologized to Grissom. "Sorry I'm late. I was doing some charity work."
Extending a menu, he asked, "Since when do you do charity work?"
"I've been doing it ever since I met you." She grabbed the menu smirking. "So we're eating here at Forum because I needed to shop for your trip and I'm pleased to report…mission accomplished."
"Did you get the right information before making the purchase?"
A bubbly waitress interrupted. "Hi, I'm Tawny, are you ready to order?"
"Symphony Salad and a glass of your best Pinot Grigio." Catherine closed her menu while checking out the twenty-something's boob job. "And this guy will no doubt order meat of some kind because the little woman won't allow it in her kitchen."
He didn't let her down. "I'll have the filet and a glass of merlot."
"Thank you." The waitress shot them an obligatory smile. "I'll have your drinks right out."
Once the waitress was gone, Catherine pulled out a hand held DVD player and fiddled with the controls.
Surprised to see her with the gadget he remarked, "You're going to watch TV while we at lunch?"
"No." She slid the player in front of him. "You are."
"You've gone multi-media!" Amused, he cradled the player in his hand. "What is today's feature presentation?"
"A scene from a movie called Pretty Woman." After remembering the waitress's Botox lips, Catherine felt compelled to pull out her compact and inspect her lipstick.
"Never heard of it."
"Yes, you're one of four people on the planet who haven't seen this movie and the other three are living Area 51 in a fallout shelter." She shut her compact. "Press play."
Tawny returned with two glasses of wine. "Oooh! Pretty Woman! I love this movie."
"I told you everyone knows this movie." Catherine raised her brows. "Tawny, can you believe he's never seen it?"
"You've never seen it?" With school girl vigor she slid into the booth next to Grissom. "Oh you have to see it!"
Not expecting company, Grissom jumped before sliding to the far end of the booth.
The sight of Grissom's reaction to the personal space violation was more than Catherine could bear and she silently laughed into her glass of wine.
"This is a great part!" Tawny enthusiastically pointed to the tiny screen with her candy apple red fingernail, as she invaded more space.
Reconciling that Tawny was there to stay, Grissom moved the DVD player closer to her.
Whimsically she gave a play by play. "Julia's all dressed to go out and Richard Gere pulls out this gorgeous necklace and puts it around her neck…awww…see how happy he made her. Too bad it was only on loan and she didn't get to keep it."
Watching the screen, Grissom couldn't deny that the girl in the movie looked thrilled…and so did Tawny.
"Oooh look!" Tawny shrieked as she and her silicone breasts bobbed up in down in the booth. "Then he whisks her away in a limo and a jet to go to San Francisco to see her first opera. She has the best time. It's so romantic but what's really great is that he loves her even though she's a hooker." Looking at Grissom she sighed, "My boyfriend dumped me when he found out I was dancing at Club Paradise and I only go topless. Don't you think that's a little harsh?"
Grissom looked across to Catherine who was still cracking up into her wine glass which he noticed was now empty. "Personally I'm okay with a woman having a career."
Finally Catherine came to the rescue. "Tawny…honey…you're at your day job remember. No lap dances."
"Oh!" Quickly she retreated. "Sorry. That movie gets me every time. I'll uh…make sure your order is in and get you another glass of wine ma'am." With a wiggle in her step she walked away.
"Ma'am?" Catherine's tone turned icy. "Did that bitch just call me ma'am? Does she think I'm old enough to be her mother?"
"Technically…"
Catherine had to know. "They're Silicone right?"
"Most definitely. I think she actually bruised me with them." Putting down the DVD player, he lifted his glass.
"You need to rewind because I think you were distracted." Reaching into her purse she pulled out a Bvlgari bag and set it on the table. "They charged your account. I didn't bother to ask how much it was because I felt money was no object since it wasn't my mine I was spending." Then she added a little misinformation for good measure. "It will go very nicely with the black pantsuit Sara is going to wear."
After taking a long sip, he asked, "So am I supposed to take Sara to the opera and pretend she's a hooker?"
"That wasn't my original point but hey…" Winking, she raised her empty glass. "That's always a fun role play. Rewind that disc and you'll find out how much to pay Sara to be your beck and call girl."
On cue, Tawny showed up with the wine bottle and filled Catherine's extended glass.
Ignoring the waitress, Catherine continued teasing Grissom about the role play suggestion. "You never know unless you ask but maybe she'll strip for you at the end of the night if you're willing to pay her."
Tawny twittered a nervous smile. "I uh…don't do private engagements." Then she saw the Bvlgari bag on the table. "Well…how much are you willing to pay?" Glancing at Catherine she specified, "And it will double if you're going to watch."
"Well now we know why they call this place The Cheesecake Factory." Raising her glass, Catherine clinked hers to Grissom's. "Viva Las Vegas, baby."
June 24, 2005 (Day 63)
Ritz-Carlton San Francisco
Room 512
6:03 p.m.
While Sara was still busy in the bedroom, Grissom stood in the living room of the hotel suite desperately trying to complete his bowtie. When he purchased the tux it came with a little instruction card but try as he might his efforts were useless. Apparently a high IQ wasn't a good predictor of bowtie success.
Leaving the tie undone around his neck, he proceeded to the honor bar and poured himself three fingers of scotch. Halfway through his drink, he heard the bedroom door open and turned to toward the sound.
Sara trilled. "I'm ready." But nothing could have prepared her for how incredibly handsome Grissom looked in a tux. "Wow."
Per Catherine, Grissom was expecting Sara to be wearing a black pantsuit, which would have been fine but when he saw her strolling out of the bedroom in a ravishing red dress he was certain the scotch he just downed must have been poison and that he had died and gone to heaven. "You look…"
"You like it?" She asked while the answer shone like a neon sign in his eyes.
"I'm speechless." In silence he soaked in every glorious detail…the curves of her body, the creamy expanse of her neck, the irresistible grin on her face, and the romantic tendrils of hair framing her sparkling eyes. "Still…no words."
"And still no bowtie." Crossing the room, the dress flowed with her.
When her hands glided over his jacket, he knew the only thing more devastatingly beautiful than her look was her touch. Still at a loss for words he let his radiant smile communicate for him.
Having practiced this trick a dozen times she focused not on the task itself but the subtle details. "I can take care of this for you," she said in seductive whisper as she moved behind him with catlike poise.
Her hot breath on his neck as her fingers magically transformed the strip of silk into a bow sent him reeling. "Sara…I…"
"There." Slowly she smoothed her hands over his shoulders. "Very nice and I'm not referring to my bow-tying skills."
The words finally arrived and he turned around to say them. "You look amazing…everything…I love everything…" His voiced lowered. "I love you." He captured her mouth with a kiss as fiery as her dress.
When they came up for air she teased, "Are we in danger of missing the opera?"
"What opera?" Breathing deep he struggled to regroup. "Thank you for reminding me. Also…I have something for you."
"If it's another kiss like the last one I can safely say we're not leaving here anytime soon."
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he grinned. "It's not a kiss." Now it was his turn to move behind her. "I think you'll find it goes well with your dress."
The sparkle of white gold and diamonds filled her already wide eyes. Gasping she said, "This is so Pretty Woman!"
Her comment fortified his smile as he clasped the bauble around her neck. "The necklace compliments the dress but pales in comparison to your beauty."
Melting in his arms, she blissfully sighed. "We really have to get out of town and play dress up more often because I'm having the best time."
"And the night is still young."
San Francisco Opera House - Lobby
6:32 p.m.
Standing in the elegant opera house, her arm wrapped around Grissom's waist, Sara savored the public display of affection along with the sophisticated atmosphere and the glass of bubbly she was sipping. "Is this the same champagne we had in the limo?"
"Yes." He tapped his glass to hers. "Only the best for you, my dear."
"Well…" Grinning she nuzzled closer. "Considering this time yesterday you had me tape lifting a beer and urine soaked frat house, I'm thrilled with the change of pace."
"You smell much better tonight." He replied while breathing in her perfume.
"How about giving me a synopsis on the opera since the only Italian I know is diamante." She flashed her ring.
"Cosi fan tutte is about..." Deciding he would need to preface his explanation, he paused. "Now be patient because there is depth beyond the obvious plot."
Reading between the lines she remarked in a light laugh. "That means I'll find the obvious plot offensive."
He cleared his throat. "There are two young men, Ferrando and Guglielmo, each has a woman they hold dear to their heart. One day a man, a philosopher named Alfonso, comes along and tells the men that their women, if given the opportunity, will betray them because after all…cosi fan tutte…which means, they're all like that.
"Like what?"
"Fickle and easily duped."
"Ah…this sounds like a great opera to attend with your lover."
"Patience my dear." He raised his glass. "The men don't believe Alfonso so Alfonso bets the men that if they do as he asks, in one day, he will prove the women fickle."
Taking a guess at the outcome, she snipped, "And of course, being ego-driven bastards, they take the bet."
"Well there wouldn't be much of a story if they declined. As far as your cynical interpretation, I disagree." In her ear he whispered, "Being a romantic, I believe they take the bet in defense of their women…they truly believe they can prove Alfonso wrong."
"Okay." Gazing into his eyes, she smiled. "We'll go with your version."
"Thank you." He took another sip of champagne before moving on. "Out of blue the women are told the men need to report for military duty so they say their sad goodbyes."
"But it's a ruse. They're being set up."
"Yes. The men return in disguise and attempt to woo the women…and they woo not their own lovers but they swap."
"And considering the time period and the fact this was penned by a man, I'm sure the women are being portrayed as pathetically weak so they fall into bed with the strangers and the guys kill them for cheating." She rolled her eyes. "No wait…the women kill themselves because they aren't worthy enough to live."
"Thankfully Mozart was more creative than you and this is a comic opera, not a tragedy." He chuckled, knowing this would be her reaction. "You'll be happy to know the women actually rebuff the advances of the strangers which of course thrills the men."
"I sense a 'but' coming." Polishing off her drink, she stretched to set it on a nearby table.
"But…Alfonso reminds the men that the day isn't over yet and they promised to do everything he requests."
Putting it in familiar terms she said, "So Alfonso is the house and these guys don't know that the house always wins."
"Exactly…today Ferrando and Guglielmo would be welcome in any casino on the strip."
Leaning over, she brushed a kiss over his lips. "I just want to say that even though this story sounds like a bunch of sexist tripe, I'm having a wonderful time and you're a very good storyteller."
"Thank you.You're not a very good listener but I'm enjoying your commentary and frankly while you're wearing that dress you can say anything you want and get me to do anything you'd like."
After another kiss she prodded, "Please continue the story."
"Well…Alfonso asks the men to pretend to drink poison because they are so distraught that the women rebuffed their affection."
"Oh don't tell me." She lowered her head in her hand. "The men are miraculously saved and the women fall at their feet begging them to take them to bed."
He knew she'd be happy to hear this part. "Not until the men serenade them."
Sarcasm clung to her words. "It's nice to hear they held out for something special."
After placing his empty glass on the table next to hers, he made a correction. "Actually only one of the women falls at first."
"That must tick off the guy whose girlfriend did cheat."
"Absolutely." Grinning he told her, "Because…to use your words…now he's an ego-driven bastard. He'll do whatever it takes to get the other woman to fall for him."
"Which I'm sure he does because after all…cosi fan tutte."
"Nice to see you getting into the spirit of the opera, honey." Cupping her face, he stole a kiss.
"So how does it end?"
"Just as the women wed their new lovers, the ruse is revealed. The two men know their women betrayed them and the two women know their men tricked them…all of them are devastated and confused."
"And this is a comedy?"
"It's a comedy with a point."
"Which is?"
"That men and women do crazy things in the name of love. They play games, they succumb to fear and sometimes even though they have good intentions they end up hurting one another in the process." Slipping his arms around her he lowered his voice. "It is only when illusion is cast aside that lovers can build trust and find true happiness."
"Hmm…" Like so many times before he made her see a new angle to a situation. "That summary reminds me of a couple of well intentioned people I know. They played games for a while before getting to the truth."
"Art imitates life and men and women have been playing the same games for centuries."
"I'm glad we're through playing games."
"Me too."
The chandeliers flickered signaling the patrons to take their seats
Taking her hand, he led the way.
San Francisco Opera House - Lobby
10:36 p.m.
Still buzzing from her first opera experience, Sara clutched Grissom's arm as they strolled through the lobby.
"I'm so happy you enjoyed it." He knew by the look on her face throughout the performance she was having a wonderful time.
"All the times I've heard your opera CDs it never really came together for me but now that I've seen a whole production it makes more sense."
"Now that I own a tux and you own a dress maybe we can sneak off to the opera again in the future." Glancing at his watch he said, "Speaking of sneaking off. I'm going to run outside and call for the limo why don't you stay in here and wait for me."
She knew what he was really up to. "You're going to check on the kids, aren't you?"
"Considering the last time we were out of touch they got shot at and injured…"
"I was thinking the same thing." Pecking his cheek, she smiled. "Tell them I said to watch their asses out there because if it happens twice you may never take another night off."
"Be right back."
Standing against the wall, Sara's eyes closed as her smile widened. The night was perfect…beyond perfect…surreal in its perfection.
"Sara Sidle?" Brian Anderson asked in a shocked tone. "My god, it is you. What are you doing here? Last I heard you moved to Vegas."
Her eyes flew open. "Brian?" She couldn't believe she was standing face to face with sexual partner number twelve out of thirteen. Berkeley Brian, the last time she saw him he was starting his Ph.D in Chemical Engineering and had just finished celebrating his thirtieth birthday by screwing a blond English Lit student named Miranda…information she acquired when she showed up at Brian's apartment an hour early to surprise him before their date.
"You look..." He couldn't take his eyes off her. "Wow. You've changed a lot since we were together. I don't recall you even owning a dress."
Her body stiffened. She still couldn't believe she was standing face to face with sexual partner number twelve out of thirteen and the bum was ruining her perfect night and he seemed to think she should be happy to see him.
"Aren't you going to say something?"
Getting a grip on her emotions, she finally replied, "I think I said everything I had to say the last time we saw each other." Glancing around she looked for Grissom, hoping Brian would disappear before his return and she could forget the whole thing.
"You're not…" He chuckled. "That was six years ago Sara you can't possibly still be upset."
Grissom, in a hurry to return to Sara, worked his way through the crowd. "I'm back." Breathing a sigh of relief, Grissom tucked his cell phone in his jacket pocket. "Everyone is fine." Then he realized something was wrong right in front of him. "Sara?"
"Hi." Brian extended his hand. "You are…"
Sara, believing, if you can't get rid of your loser ex-boyfriend you can prove to him that you're much better off, enthusiastically answered. "He's Dr. Gil Grissom. My husband. One of the nation's leading Entomologists, a real-estate developer, a philanthropist and a patron of the arts."
Grissom quickly shook the man's hand while processing the words that had just poured out of Sara's mouth. "And you are…"
Once again, Sara did the honors. "He's Brian Anderson. A chemical engineer and an arrogant ass who I last saw six years ago humping a blonde bimbo bitch named Miranda when he was supposed to be getting ready for a date with me. Apparently it's all supposed to be very amusing in hindsight but I'm not getting the humor of the situation."
Brian raised a brow. "Well now…this suddenly feels a bit awkward."
Grissom nodded while looking at Brian in a whole new light.
And then things took a turn for the complicated.
"Sorry I took so long, honey." Miranda strolled over and took her shawl while rubbing her belly. "This baby is kicking up a storm and the restroom was…." Then she noticed with whom Brian was speaking. "I don't believe it! Sara, is that really you? My goodness you look fantastic!"
"Honey…" Brian tried to warn her.
"How long has it been?"
Sara felt the need to qualify the question. "Since I found you in bed with Brian? Six years."
"You're not seriously still upset about that, are you?" Miranda chuckled. "My goodness, we're all adults. Besides, I see a ring on your finger so you've obviously moved on. Everything worked out for the best, right?"
Suddenly realizing that she was the only one feeling foolish, Sara decided not to let Brian and Miranda have the upper hand again. Breaking out into a jolly laugh she exclaimed, "Gotcha!"
Brian and Miranda relaxed while Grissom struggled to keep up.
"You always did have a quirky sense of humor, Sara." Brian noted.
Sara took Grissom's arm. "Miranda, I'd like you to meet my husband, Gil. The two of you have something in common…a love of English Literature."
Warmly she extended her hand. "I'm always happy to meet another literary scholar especially since my dear husband's head is devoted to science and not art. I had to drag him here kicking and screaming. He'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than opera."
Grissom returned the greeting with the requisite response. "Nice to meet you."
Happy to see the tension gone, Brian made a suggestion. "How about we all go out for drinks to officially wash everything under the bridge and celebrate things turning out well for all parties involved?"
"Sounds great!" Sara eagerly replied. "Where should we tell our driver to take us?"
"Absinthe on Hayes." Helping Miranda on with her wrap he smiled. "You really had us going there, Sara. We'll see at the bar."
"See you there." She cheerily replied as they left the lobby. When they were gone she seethed. "Oh! I can't believe the audacity of those two. Unbelievable."
"What…?" Grissom was at a loss for words for the second time this evening.
Then she realized how awkward this must be for Grissom. "You must be…"
"I'm…I'm still trying to figure out what shocked me most." Staring at her he listed the options. "Hearing you call me by my first name, hearing you announce me as your husband, or hearing you accept an invitation to go out with your ex-boyfriend and his wife who you only minutes earlier referred to as a blond bimbo bitch." Dumbfounded he kept trying to decide.
"If I said no then they would think I was still upset about the whole thing."
"Aren't you?" A pang of insecurity echoed from the past as he contemplated that maybe Brian was the one that got away.
"I'm ticked that they were deceptive and showed total disregard for my feelings but I wasn't in love with him if that's what you're thinking. They were laughing at mebehind my back and then when I walked in on them that day they laughed in my face. It hurt. It still does. You heard them…they're still laughing." Taking his hand she said, "Of course now I'm thrilled it happened because if it didn't maybe I wouldn't have been in the right place to meet you." Caressing his cheek, she whispered, "I know without a doubt I'm where I'm supposed to be. I love you with all my heart."
Still a tad confused, he said, "So explain to me why we're meeting them for drinks?"
"Therapy…closure…Dr. Myers would approve." She chuckled. "Yes, closure with a teeny hint of revenge."
"Clarify that last part for me because I'm rather certain Dr. Myers wouldn't recommend that part."
Grinning she took his arm and headed for the door. "I know I got the better end of the deal and now I have a chance to gently rub it in Miranda's face. We'll go out with them, you'll be devastatingly charming and literary with Miranda and soon she will realize that I have the better man and the joke is no longer on me, it's on her."
"Wait! Let me get this straight...you want me to flirt with the pregnant wife of your ex-boyfriend while you watch?" It sounded even stranger out loud than it did in his head.
"You don't flirt with her; you flirt with me while tossing out some Shakespeare and Yeats in her direction."
"I know you're a little hormonal after stopping your pills a few weeks ago but right before my eyes, you're morphing into a person I don't even know." He sighed. "Although it's in the past and I'm not jealous, I have to be honest, sitting across from a guy you used to date, and considering your strong reaction I assume you did more than go to the movies, really isn't…"
"I'm not hormonal!" She resented the insinuation. "And why shouldn't you do this for me? After all, I put up with Lady Heather!"
"For five minutes and if you recall, that didn't go so well."
"Not initially but like in the opera, lessons were learned from the experience and our love grew stronger. Who's to say the same won't happen tonight."
Stepping outside into the night air, he asked, "You see one opera and now you're trying to write your own? Why do you need to play this game, Sara? What's really going on here?"
"I'm wearing this beautiful dress and I have a wonderful man who loves me on my arm and for the first time I have a chance not to be the big loser in front of the fun pretty girl. Is that so wrong?" Slowly she turned showing off her appearance. "You said I could get you to do anything as long as I'm wearing this dress." Gliding her hands over the front of his jacket, she taunted him, "Come on…you're dressed for the part and you have all that literary knowledge rattling around in your head dying to get out. It will be fun. We're in a different city, in different clothes, let's do something a little crazy." She knew he was caving. "Please. We'd be playing the game together not against each other."
"What if Miranda doesn't care?"
"Are you kidding?" Sara laughed. "Of course she will because cosi fan tutte!"
While he knew he shouldn't, he indulged her. "Since you quoted from the opera…"
Thrilled he was agreeing she threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you, honey. Now just remember…talk books not corpses."
"Thankfully you were inspired by a comic opera and not a tragic one, so corpses shouldn't come into play."
Absinthe Bar and Restaurant
11:10 p.m.
Miranda and Brian already had a table when Grissom and Sara arrived at the bar.
Brian stood. "So glad you agreed to join us on such short notice."
Clearing his throat, Grissom straightened his tie. "We're spontaneous people." Or so it would appear on this particular night.
"Then more has changed about Sara than her wardrobe," Brian chuckled.
Holding out the chair across from Brian, Grissom smiled at his 'wife'. "Here you are, darling."
"Thank you." She was grateful they had downed half a bottle of champagne on the way over.
"So…" Miranda wasted no time firing off the first of her barrage of questions. "How did the two of you meet?"
Sara smiled as she placed her hand on top of Grissom's. "At Berkeley actually…over five years ago. Gil was lecturing and…"
"And the moment I saw Sara I was captivated. One smile and my heart was hers." Holding Sara's hand he soulfully said, "Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"
Miranda smiled. "Christopher Marlowe."
"What were you lecturing on?" Brian inquired.
"The preservation of blowflies on decomposing human remains."
Sara checked her watch and noted almost two minutes elapsed before the first corpse was mentioned.
"That's right, Brian told me in the car on the way here that you are also an Entomologist." Miranda glanced at Sara. "What a romantic backdrop."
"Absolutely." Grissom countered. "What better reminder of the beauty and importance of love than the harsh reality of death?"
"I'm afraid I don't know who said that." Miranda reluctantly admitted.
"Sure you do." Relaxing in his chair he answered, "Gil Grissom."
Sara, thrilled with the moment, knew the points were already stacking up in her favor.
"So Sara, was Gil the reason you took off to Vegas so unexpectedly?" Miranda always assumed it was to get further away from Brian and her.
"Yes." Sara grinned. "He said he couldn't survive in Vegas without me." Technically he said the lab couldn't survive without her but who was he kidding, the lab was a metaphor for him, she knew it then and she definitely knew it now.
Intrigued by Sara and her poetic entomologist husband, Miranda pried some more. "How long have you been married?"
As the plot thickened, Grissom let Sara do the talking.
"We uh…had a rather long engagement so we've only been married for oh…eight months." Actually it was only two months and technically they weren't married at all but somehow eight sounded right.
"Did you have a large wedding?" Miranda nosed.
"No…very intimate."
"Where did you honeymoon?"
"An exclusive bed and breakfast…very luxurious."
Grissom, getting into the spirit of the moment, added, "And they served the most delicious cubed kiwi fruit salad."
Sara chuckled. Although his comment made no points with Miranda, it scored big with her.
A waiter approached the table. "Sorry for the delay. What can I get you to drink?"
Miranda caressed her belly. "No alcohol for baby so I'll have cranberry juice with club soda and a twist of lime." Eyeing Sara she continued smoothing her hand over her stomach. "I'm six months pregnant with our first."
The waiter looked to Sara.
"I'll have what she's having, thank you." Smiling at Miranda, Sara announced, "Gil and I are expecting our first too." Like in operatic comedies…sometimes you stacked the deck to keep up with the other players in the game.
Brian immediately caught Grissom's reaction. "Gil, you look a little shocked."
Sara slapped Grissom's thigh under the table which was their pre-arranged code for 'just go with it'.
"You know…" Grissom threw his arm around Sara and pulled her close. "Every time she says it, it's like hearing it for the first time."
The waiter cleared his throat.
Grissom gladly made his request. "I'll have a double of your best scotch."
"Same here." Brian replied. "Now we have even more to celebrate."
"How far along are you, Sara?" Miranda eyed her. "With the way that dress is fitting you, you can't be more than a couple of months."
"Four months actually." Sara grinned. "I'm just blessed with a fantastic metabolism."
"Oh." Miranda remarked disappointedly. "You're one of those women." Moving beyond her irritation, she forged on with her questions. "What names have you picked out?"
"Names?"
Miranda glanced at her husband. "If it's a boy Brian wants to name the baby Jonathan after his grandfather and if it's a girl we're naming her Candace after my grandmother."
"Oh…names." Sara smiled nervously at Grissom who offered no help whatsoever. "We uh…like Catherine for a girl and Greg for a boy. They're family names too."
Miranda nodded approvingly. "Are you going to hyphenate?"
"Hyphenate?"
"Your last names. Will it be Sidle-Grissom or just Grissom?"
"Um…" Sara looked at her faux-baby's father. "No hyphen. Just Grissom." No sense in carrying on the Sidle name in honor of her dishonorable father.
And have you found a nanny yet?"
"A nanny?"
"Yes. I don't know how it works in Vegas but here, if you want a reputable one, you have to start looking for one even before the baby is born."
Brian groaned, "I think we interviewed twenty-six before finding one."
"A nanny, hmm…." Sara turned to Grissom. "Honey, I never considered that option before now. A nanny might make things more feasible."
Delicately he brushed a tendril of hair from Sara's face. "It's certainly doable."
The waiter returned with the drinks.
Brian promptly grabbed his scotch. "I don't know about you, Gil but all this pregnancy and baby talk can sometimes drive me to drink. Miranda can drone on and on over the littlest of details. The nursery looks like an art museum."
Raising his glass, Grissom replied, "When a woman chooses to give her man the most precious of gifts, the man should indulge her every whim."
Brian turned to his wife. "Who said that?"
"I believe that would be Gil Grissom again." Miranda groaned.
Sara swooned and knew they should make their escape now while they were ahead…way ahead.
From across the restaurant, a bus boy eagerly approached the table. "Dr. Grissom." He extended his hand. "I'm Rob Malcolm. I attended your lecture last month."
"Nice to see you again." Grissom shook the young man's hand.
"I've been running some of my own experiments wrapping various animal carcasses under varying conditions of sunlight and shade and it seems to me that the maggots I've collected off the decaying flesh…"
"Rob." Grissom held up a business card. "Why don't you e-mail your questions?"
"Sorry…I just get excited about this stuff." Rob took the card. "Thank you for your time."
Miranda shook her head. "One minute you're quoting British Lit and the next you're talking about maggots."
"He's a renaissance man." Sara proudly announced. "That's why we were at the opera tonight."
Brian nodded. "So he dragged you like Miranda dragged me."
"What makes you an opera fan, Gil?" Miranda inquired.
Sara listened intently as she never thought to ask the question herself.
"My mother's influence." He paused to take a sip of scotch. "She was a patron of the arts and for a period of time in my life, she always had opera playing. You could say I assumed her love of the art form."
Reaching out, Sara squeezed his hand.
"How do you get along with his mother, Sara?" Brian cracked, "Because you didn't hit it off so well with mine that time we had dinner with her."
Miranda blurted, "That's because you're mother is a bitch, darling."
"Unfortunately Sara never had the opportunity to meet my mother before she passed." Grissom pulled Sara's hand close. "But if they had met I assure you that my mother would have liked her for her intelligence, wit and beauty." After brushing a kiss over the back of her hand he said, "But she would have loved Sara for her compassionate heart and the simple fact that Sara loves me for who I am."
Suddenly Miranda's opinion didn't matter to Sara anymore.
"So how long are you in town?" Miranda asked.
"Just one night." Grissom replied while setting his empty glass on the table. "We flew in because Sara earned her doctorate from Berkeley."
"So it's Dr. Sidle now?" Brian smiled. "Congratulations on that too." He chuckled. "So many changes, Sara. Tell me…do you still like those pathetically sappy movies? Or did you change that for the better too?"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Like the opera, I have to drag him to those. Really dear, you're as unromantic as they come."
"I love Sara's penchant for sappy films! She's a brilliant scientist and a romantic…it's a rare combo. Actually…that's why we attended the opera tonight." Sliding his arm around Sara's shoulders he spoke lovingly. "We fly all over the world recreating the best scenes from the sappiest romantic movies. Tonight was Pretty Woman…hence Sara's red dress."
Miranda, turning green with envy, focused on Sara's jewelry. "Don't tell me the necklace…"
"Oh yes." Grissom delighted in telling her. "I surprised her with it this evening but unlike the girl in the movie…Sara gets to keep it."
Brian checked his watch and cursed himself for inviting Sara and her perfectly poetic husband to join them.
Knowing he was on a roll, Grissom kissed Sara's cheek. "Next month we're flying to London to play out Bridget Jones. Right, darling?"
Sara shook with laughter. Bridget Jones was the only movie she could recall he ever watched with her from start to finish.
Grissom gleefully related the details to Miranda who was all ears. "I, as Mark Darcy, will try my best to inarticulately express my love to Bridget, while she wears a very silly short skirt."
"Look at the time!" Sara announced. Like Cinderella should have done, Sara wanted to leave the ball before midnight in the off chance that at the stroke of twelve she'd no longer feel like a princess. "We should get going, honey."
Brian couldn't have agreed more. "Yes…it's quite late."
"Yes." Miranda groaned as she glared at her unromantic husband. "It's way too late for me."
Back of the Limousine
11:58 p.m.
Sitting across from Grissom, Sara beamed as she raised the privacy screen of the limo. "You…were…awesome! Not that I didn't personally know that already"
"I had good material from which to work." He replied while tossing his unfurled bow tie aside. "For the record, I didn't lie about anything. Every word I uttered was absolutely truth."
"So we're really going to London next month?" She asked excitedly.
"Sure…if your boss gives you a week off."
"I guess that means I won't be buying a very silly short skirt any time soon." Rubbing her hands together she exclaimed, "Crack open the bubbly!"
"But what about the baby?" He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the bottle. "Little Catherine or Greg?"
"Sorry about that but she was totally playing the baby card in a shameless attempt to make me feel inferior."
Laughing at her logic, he poured two glasses of champagne. "And lying makes you feel superior?"
"I blame the dress!" She accepted the glass he was extending.
"Great…now you're a liar who isn't taking accountability for her actions."
"Completely irresponsible and out of character for me I know!" Giddy she exclaimed, "Later I plan to run with scissors!" Pausing, she chugged down some bubbly. "You were such a good sport about this whole thing."
"Thank you for noticing." He refilled her glass and topped off his while joking. "But I said I would do anything as long as you were wearing that dress and unlike you…I'm not a liar."
The champagne adding to her natural buzz, she purred, "So what happens if I take the dress off? Hmm? What will you do then?" Reaching over she pressed the call button.
"Yes?" The driver immediately responded.
"We'd like to see the sights the city has to offer."
Grissom suddenly realized there was an upside to irresponsible Sara.
"Any special instructions ma'am?" The driver asked.
Pulling the first rhinestone clip from her hair, Sara lustily replied, "Don't stop until I tell you." And with that she released the call button and another hair clip.
Polishing off his champagne, Grissom asked, "Was this in the movie? Because I didn't watch the entire film. What was it rated?" He was hoping for something a little higher than PG-13.
"No. It wasn't in the movie." She giggled as the last of her hair tumbled over her shoulders. "This is an original idea for a one of kind guy." Pointing at the radio controls next to him she said, "Music please."
"Any particular kind?"
"The slower the better," she purred. "Now let's review the rules. You can't touch me and…cash only."
June 25, 2005 (Day 64)
Ritz-Carlton
Room 512
10:17 a.m.
When he woke, Grissom discovered Sara asleep in his arms. Gently he brushed her curly hair off her face and whispered, "Good Morning."
Resisting the call, she moaned and burrowed further under the covers.
"I have no doubt you're tired after your performance last night." He whispered in her ear. "You never did tell me your stripper name."
"Mmm…" Turning she opened her eyes. "I think I'm a little hung over." It was a familiar feeling but not one she had experienced in ages. "Why are you waking me?" Her lips formed a smirk as she squirmed under the sheets. "Oh wait…I think I know."
"I have no idea what you're talking about?" He quipped as he tugged his white dress shirt off her shoulder. "I just want my shirt back."
"I need to keep it until I uh…get back from powdering my nose." Tossing back the covers she crawled out of bed and proceeded to the bathroom.
Two minutes later she darted out frantically stammering, "Last night…in the limo…when we… did you? Because I don't recall…"
Nodding, he graciously replied, "I had a great time. You were fantastic. I think you could prosper at the Satin Saddle."
"Not my question!" Her hands flew to her throbbing head. "Protection…did you think about it?"
"Sorry…I stopped thinking the minute your dress hit the floor."
"But you know the rule! Once I stopped taking the pill we agreed the responsibility was yours." Falling back on the bed she panted with anxiety. "Remember…don't come knocking..."
"I didn't knock." He reminded her. "You threw open the door and yanked me inside."
Covering her face she moaned. "But you were ultimately accountable."
"Can I blame the dress like you did?" Moving her hands he looked into her tension filled eyes. "I didn't intentionally forget if that's what you're thinking but I am sorry. Please don't panic. What are the odds? Think of the biology here. You just stopped taking the pill three weeks ago after taking it for years. Your body hasn't even caught up yet."
"This is because I lied about being pregnant. The lie…it's catching up with me." She neared hyperventilation. "I shouldn't have lied."
"Wow…you weren't even raised Catholic." Chuckling, he said, "Things don't happen because you feel guilty, Sara. Do your breathing thing.
"They happen for a reason."
"Or by accident." Tenderly he kissed her cheek.
4…3…2…1. Trying to lighten up she said, "See…I shouldn't wear a dress."
Pulling her close, he whispered, "Actually I believe it was taking off the dress that caused the problem."
Reluctantly she laughed.
"In the unlikely event that you get pregnant, I will insist you rethink your name choices."
In his arms, she laughed harder. "Wouldn't Greg be thrilled to know I said I was naming your baby after him?"
Shaking his head, he muttered, "That was the most disturbing part of the evening."
When their laughter quieted she said, "In the very unlikely event I get pregnant, what names do you like?"
"Definitely not Brian." He teased.
"Or Heather."
"What was the limo driver's name? He was there for the magic moment, why not honor him?" Nibbling on her ear he reminded her, "He did provide a very smooth ride."
"His name was Vito." Once again she was shaking with laughter. "Vito Grissom."
"It's catchy."
Next Chapter: Basic Instincts
If you've missed Greg he's back. Other than that all I'll say is…sit back and buckle up for the ride…