Chapter 20

Grissom's Bagpipes

Sara's mood had stayed constant throughout the whole shift, the smile never seemed to leave her face, and if it did, it was only momentary. She'd make jokes she normally wouldn't make. Secretly, Gil supervised Sara and Greg in the Garage as they reconstructed a murder.

He found it hard to suppress the smiles himself, but feeling at risk from seeming incredibly goofy and rather obvious, he had to force himself to maintain a professional and nonchalant expression whenever someone happened to come along.

Standing at the door out of eyesight of Sara and Greg – who were absorbed in what they were doing – Gil watched Sara almost obsessively.

This is what you're not meant to be doing, Gil. You're meant to be doing work, not watching her thinking about this morning, he thought.

"Evidence shows that the vic had bruises on the underside of her wrist," Sara gestured to the dummy, she had marked off the dummy's wrist with coloured chalk to indicate where the bruises were. "And then…on the top of the wrist on her other hand," she lifted the wrist of the dummy, "was this smaller bruise…" she laid out pictures on the floor for comparison.

"You said the attack was brutal," Greg said, "and that most of the bruises were inflicted before she died – but she died more than likely during the rape?"

"Yes," Sara said, "asphyxiation."

"So how could he have suffocated her, and still held her back?" Greg asked, looking down at the body. "He'd have needed three hands, one hand to hold each wrist, and then another hand to suffocate her."

Gil decided to interject, "Or he only used one hand to hold her down," he stepped in.

Sara blinked, looking at him, her cheeks flushing momentarily, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. Just supervising. It is my job you know," Gil smirked, he moved over to where Greg and Sara were kneeling on the floor beside the dummy.

"Suspect has small hands, how could he get one hand around two wrists," Sara asked.

"Easy," Gil knelt down, he positioned the wrists of the dummy down on the floor, crossed themat the wrist, he pressed his own hands down upon them, trapping thewrist underneath tightly, "like so."

"But if his hand wasn't around the victim's wrist completely, how do you explain the bruise on the topside of her wrist?" Greg asked, he stood up as if to get a better view of the dummy.

"Something was on the ground," Gil suggested, "a pebble, or something. If the top of her wrist was pressed down on the ground ontop of something and enough pressure was applied, it could leave a bruise."

"Why didn't I think of this?" Sara smirked.

"I don't know, distracted, maybe," Gil shrugged, he stood up and dusted the knees of his pants. "You would have thought of it eventually," he added with a gentle smile.

Greg folded his arms, "she's been grinning all day," he said, "I think she's thinking that week free of Las Vegas, running in Scottish moors and trying to take a glimpse up men's kilts," he teased.

Sara laughed a little, "moors?" she asked, "we're going to a city, Greg."

"Oh," Greg said silently, "so…have you told the new boyfriend yet that you'll be going away for a week?"

"Uh, actually, no," Sara said, she glanced to Gil as if she expected him to come up with some excuse for her to leave the conversation quickly.

Gil missed her looking at him entirely, he pretended to be more preoccupied by picking up and looking at the photos of the recent murder they were working on.

"Aren't you worried he'll take it the wrong way?" Greg asked.

"Why should he?" Sara asked, she moved beside Gil to look at the photos he was now flicking through.

"Because you're going away for a whole week – with your boss," Greg commented. "I mean, to us it's obvious that there's no way in hell you're going to be playing Grissom's bagpipes—"

Sara and Gil both raised their head at the same time to look at Greg in dismay at the euphemism. Sara turned her head, her cheeks burning red. Gil had some very graphic images of bagpipes and naked women, and he tried to force them out of his mind completely.

"But to any other guy…especially one who's dating someone who spends ninety-five percent of her time at work, that's gotta raise some suspicions."

Sara tried to laugh it off, "Playing Grissom's bagpipes?" she asked.

Gil was becoming rather embarrassed by this remark, "uh…Greg, remind me again, do I pay you to stand and come up with crude innuendo?"

"Uh…no…" Greg fell silent for one short moment, then jokingly commented, "that one was on the house."

Sara stifled her laughter on the back of her hand, as if the joke about bagpipes had just finally hit her, her eyes danced and glittered in the overhead light.

Gil looked away, he had to purse his lips to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the situation. He'd always thought Greg to be rather perceptive, and found it so amusing that Greg seemed to have no idea that he – Gil – and Sara were romantically involved. It was even more amusing when he added the memory of Greg's comments about the only man being right for Sara was possibly Gil Grissom himself – and there was always that comment a month ago when Greg had admitted he didn't know what Sara saw on him.

"I need to get back to work," Gil looked at his watch, he shook his head, "and you, Mr Sanders, need to get your head out of the gutter, thank you," he shook his head as he began towards the door.

"Hey, Grissom…" Sara called out to him.

"Yes?" Gil asked as he stopped, "can I have a ride home? I had a tow truck pick my car up this morning and I still don't have it back yet."

"Sure," Gil shrugged, he expected some suspicious expressions and a few unsavory comments to follow, but Greg didn't seem interested anymore, he was picking up the dummy and hoisting it onto his shoulder.

Sara was about to turn.

"Or I could drop you off at this boyfriends of yours if you like," Gil suggested. He knew, that again, Greg wouldn't pick up on the comment at all. He knew, however, Sara would take it as an invitation to breakfast.

"Uh, okay," Sara nodded, "sure…he's up that early," she shrugged.

Gil nodded, "alright."

"I could have driven you," Greg said quietly.

"You drive like a maniac," Sara retorted.

Gil laughed and left the two to get on with their work.

"Hi, bagpipe man," Sara said as she met Gil at his car at the end of the shift, she grinned brightly, as he opened the door for her. He'd waited outside of the car for her, catching some of the fresh air of the early morning.

Gil flushed, "What was Greg THINKING with that comment?" he asked with a roll of his eyes. He tried to shake off the embarrassment as he got in at his side, "I mean, really…bagpipes?" he asked in disbelief.

"Some really weird images flew through my head the moment he said it," Sara put her seatbelt on, and made her self comfortable.

"You're not the only one," Gil confessed, "I don't think I'll be able to hear bagpipe music ever again now or I may feel compelled to blush whenever I do."

Sara snickered, "you blush already," she pointed out, she reached over and turned on the radio.

"You do too," Gil started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot, "or at least you did – when Greg said it."

"I was shocked. Who would have expected him to make that kind of euphemism?" she demanded, her eyes wide.

"I should have expected it," Gil mused, "so…my place for breakfast?" he asked.

"Sounds good," Sara nodded, "By the way," she cleared her throat, "I have something important to tell you," she

"You do?" Gil asked. For some reason, his mind flew back to yesterday morning when he'd found the birth control in her bathroom. Could she about to make some revelation about that right now?

"Yes," Sara said, "Now…don't freak out…" she began softly.

Gil glanced at her quickly before turning a corner in the car. She has to bring it up at some point, surely she had to have seen the box in my hand.

Sara smirked a little, "my boss has asked me to go away with him for a week to Scotland, of all places."

Gil felt relief flow through him, she was playing games, that was fine, it was better than getting in a lengthy discussion about why she had contraception in her bathroom – although this seemed perfectly obvious already. "Oh?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just thought you should know – just in case, you know, you think I'm being whisked away for an affair, and playing his bagpipes."

Gil pursed his lips together, he wanted to laugh but felt it might be in bad taste.

Sara grinned, "you're blushing again."

"I'm trying to concentrate on the road," he lied, he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as she even pointed it out.

Sara laughed, "okay," she shook her head at him, laughing under her breath.

"You're making fun of me," Gil uttered.

"Sorry," Sara chewed her lip, she reached over to the radio and began to play with the tuning for a station she liked.

"Must you play with my radio?"

"Would you rather I played with your bagpipes?" Sara joked.

Gil winced, "this bagpipe joke is getting old already."

"I'm sorry," Sara found a station where a commercial advertising a Canadian beer was running, and she at once recognized a familiar instrument being played in the theme music, "oh, listen…bagpipes."

Gil reached over and turned the radio off, "I don't want to think about bagpipes ever again," he admitted.

"How will you deal with that when you get to Scotland?" Sara asked.

"I'm not sure," Gil shrugged, "Perhaps I can focus on Haggis."

This was WAY too much fun to write, I practically giggled my head off, but then I have no life...

Ahhh, anyway, thanks to the people who keep reviewing, I want to name them all but at the moment I'm finding it hard to concentrate with this headache (too much laughing caused it more than likely).