Chapter 21

Singing

It was that very same night – their mutual night off – Gil arrived to pick up Sara to take her to dinner, as promised days before. He felt awkward, he hated dressing up, it always made him feel as if he were drawing unnecessary attention to himself, and he was never comfortable in a suit but he felt it was finally time to make the effort.

If this had been any other date, he might not have bothered at all, the right pants and the right shirt could pass for being perfectly acceptable even in the classiest places. But this wasn't any other date.

This is technically the first official date, he thought in a panic as he climbed the stairs of Sara's apartment building. The other times don't count – it was almost just like friendly visitation than anything else. Hardly romantic…hardly what she might expect.

Gil felt flustered by the time he'd gotten Sara's apartment door, he stood there for a few moments, trying to compose himself accordingly. He wanted to run and panic, but he'd already knocked, so that was now out of the question. If Sara was fast enough, she might have time to catch him by the collar before he escaped completely.

The door opened, Gil drew in a breath and straightened his posture, and stared ahead. She was a vision. She'd always been beautiful, even wearing the oldest faded jeans and most casual shirt she could find. Nothing could have prepared him for how enchanting she was as she stood there. She was clad in a plain black spaghetti strap dress, the simplicity of it accented her slender neck, the faint freckles on her shoulders, and the length of her long slender legs.

Gil felt his heart leap into his throat and he had to swallow hard to force it back down. He looked her up and down again, having to give himself more time to appreciate the curls of her hair, the soft pout of her pink lips, and dusky colour adorning her eyes. The only piece of jewellery she was wearing was a simple bracelet which was silver with zirconium crystals which sparkled when she moved. Her feet were bare, and he found this, perhaps, the most charming of all.

"You're early!" Sara admonished.

"I left early to beat traffic," Gil replied, finding his voice, "but the roads were surprisingly quiet," he added.

Sara let him in, she padded across the floor barefoot, "I haven't even gotten my shoes on…"

"It's okay, there's no rush. Reservation is for eight, it's only twenty past seven," he pointed out on his watch.

He noted the glass of half consumed red wine on the coffee table, looked like she'd been drinking again, although he decided to let it slide.

Maybe she was just trying to soothe her nerves, he thought as he watched her disappear into her bedroom, he felt compelled to follow and did so – she was already dressed, what harm could it do?

She was sifting through a drawer in her dresser, he moved over to see what she was looking for. He stood behind her, looking over her shoulder, "lost something?" he asked.

"Necklace that goes with this bracelet," Sara said, she was being careless and fast, as if she felt hurried. He watched her reflection in the large mirror of the dresser.

"Calm down," he put his hands on her shoulders, her skin bare save the very two thin straps of her dress. "We have plenty of time."

"Sorry," Sara smiled at the reflection of him, and slowed down, still looking for this necklace.

"What does it look like?" he asked, always willing to offer a helping hand.

"Like this," she held her wrist out to show him the bracelet. "Its a chain with a pendent matching the links of the bracelet," she explained.

"Okay…move over…you're way too uptight," he said, he watched her move aside, and then stood for moments, sifting through her jewellery drawer.

He was surprised just by how many necklaces she owned – all costume jewellery mostly of course. Most of them he'd never seen her wear before and several of them were still in packets or small boxes.

"You're wearing a suit…" Sara said, as if it was the first time she'd noticed.

"Yes," he responded, he glanced in the reflection of her in the mirror, "why…should I perhaps have not?"

"It's not that, I just…I don't know, didn't expect you to wear a suit."

Gil located a red plastic box and he opened it, revealing the matching necklace to go with Sara's bracelet, "found it," he shook the box.

Sara took the box from him and sat down at the dresser, unhooking the clasp on the necklace and sliding the chain around her slender neck.

Gil watched her, somewhat fascinated by the way she was fumbling and unable to quite manage with the necklace. He hadn't noticed before, but now he could definitely see her hands were shaking. It seemed so unlike his brave, bold and wonderfully courageous Sara. He moved behind her, "let me," he said softly.

Sara handed him the chain in defeat, "god, I'm just…I don't know, freaking out."

"Why?" he asked, he stood fumbling with the necklace for a moment himself before deciding which way it was meant to be worn and how to clasp it. Jewellery was just too complicated for a man like Gil Grissom.

"Really, I don't know," she confessed, she raised her hair as he slipped the chain around her neck. "I just keep thinking someone is going to see us…or…I don't know…"

"If someone sees us, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he awkwardly made several attempts to clasp the two ends of the necklace together before finally succeeding. He had to admit, Sara's concerns were something he himself had been fretting over all day. It seemed too soon for anyone to know, and the thought someone might see them together and mention it at work felt as if it might completely jinx the whole relationship.

Gil placed his hands upon her shoulders when he was finished, he felt the tickle of her hair upon his fingers as she let it down again, he wanted to say she was beautiful, but somehow couldn't manage the words. He stared at her, in awe, the thought her dressing like this might just be for his benefit made his stomach churn in delightfully pleasant ways. She still gave him butterflies.

"Do you want a drink?" Sara asked, still sitting at the dresser, she glanced over her shoulder and up at him.

"Better not…I'm driving," he reminded softly, he squeezed her shoulders affectionately, thrilled by the soft velvety texture of her skin. Finally, words found him, "you…look…" he paused, trying to think of something romantic and charming.

"Nervous?" Sara asked, glancing back to the reflection.

"Exquisite," he finally settled on.

Sara smiled and looked down somewhat bashfully, "you don't look so bad yourself," she stood up slowly, "I just need shoes," she said as if to assure him that she wouldn't take much longer.

"Don't worry about rushing, I told you, there's plenty of time," Gil replied, he watched her go over to her closet and yank the door open. Piles of shoes came tumbling out, he stepped back as if frightful he might be drowned in them.

"Uh…I've been meaning to, uh…do something about that," Sara clenched her teeth, she crouched down to sort through the pile of shoes.

Gil smirked, "shoe fetish?" he asked.

"Hardly," Sara tossed a few shoes back in the closet, "I buy them, and then never wear them because they're uncomfortable," she shrugged. "They always seem like such a good idea at the time," she found the shoes she'd been looking for, and she sat on the edge of her bed to slip them on. "It's rare to find a pair of shoes that are comfortable if you're a woman," she commented.

"You think men don't have that problem?" Gil asked casually, "I've had shoes that have hacked my heels to pieces…probably be cheaper putting a razor blade down each sock."

Sara smirked a little, and she stood up, unsteady on the high heels.

"Can you even walk in those?" Gil asked.

"Of course I can, I'm a woman, walking in heels is an obligatory necessity."

"Right," Gil pursed his lips together, he felt like laughing. He could already tell she'd be staggering in pain and stumbling in a very unbalanced manner. Still, he couldn't tell her what to wear, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings by implying he felt the shoes were all wrong for her.

Sara grabbed a simple black cardigan from where she'd left it on the bed, and she slipped it on, "I'm ready…" she said.

"Me too."

Gil found it surprising that dinner seemed to go without a hitch. He'd been so apprehensive all day, hoping that this one date would go spectacularly, that he'd been so convinced something at some point just had to go wrong somewhere.

First dates normally didn't matter, in Gil's opinion, but this date definitely did and he couldn't begin to fathom out why. After having spent four weeks being in a – albeit slow moving – romantic relationship with Sara, the date going wrong surely shouldn't have much impact. Worst things could happen, he supposed.

This is our first actual public appearance as a couple, Gil thought feeling slightly amused he'd deemed it almost as if they were celebrities. But the words 'public appearance' seemed to fit so perfectly.

Stepping out together after work could be deemed as any social relationship with a colleague, nothing to be concerned about, nothing to be gossiped about. Offering Sara a ride home could be assumed platonically. But this was different.

We've been together in her house, and in my house, but…we've never been together out of the safety of our own homes, he thought as he sipped his wine, he was trying to focus on Sara as she spoke about a documentary she'd seen during the afternoon on Discovery, and as fascinating as the subject was, Gil just couldn't completely focus at all on it.

You know what this means though, don't you? Gil tried to maintain an expression of interest and kept his eyes on hers the entire time she spoke. You've stepped out together, it's the first step. But the more and more you stay in the relationship, the more and more you're going to be stepping out together in front of everyone – in front of people you know, in front of the people you work with. This is big, Gil.

"You're…not really listening," Sara finally said, she looked at him, "something wrong?" she asked.

Gil blinked, he sat up a little straighter, "I'm sorry," he drew his breath, "I heard what you were saying, and it was very interesting but…I just kept slipping away."

"I noticed. You had this glazed over look in your eyes," Sara said, "it's like seeing those stoned kids who get pulled in for possession, you see the cops marching them down the hall, they always look so blank and as if they're a million miles away."

Gil took a sip of his water, he glanced down at the table cloth, momentarily distracted again.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sara asked in a hopeful tone.

"It's nothing," Gil responded almost sharply, but then composed himself to speak again with a little more tenderness than before, "its just…I was just realizing how…things are going to change," he admitted.

"In what way?" Sara asked casually, she took a bite of the chocolate soufflé she'd chosen for desert.

"You know, at home and at work," he shrugged, "we're here now. Someone might see us, like you said earlier. Raises questions, doesn't it? If someone brings it up at work, then we're found out. That might change our whole work situation."

"Is there certain protocol for interoffice dating?" Sara asked, "I know that certain workspaces have their rules and regulations regarding it…"

"I know it's frowned upon but not exactly forbidden…" Gil confessed, "but in our case, I could be taken over the proverbial coals for my past leniency when reprimanding you," he explained. "There's been times when – as your supervisor – I should have, by obligation, taken severe action against you. Complaints from suspects, certain behavior, etcetera," he leaned forward on the table, keeping his voice low, sounding very embarrassed, "given that, the powers that be could find a certain favouritism in my leniency with you and I could end up being demoted, or worse, lose my job," he explained.

"So…you're risking your job for this," Sara's expression was immediately filled with concern, and yet, at the same time, she seemed surprised.

"Yes," Gil said, "does…that surprise you?"

Sara sighed softly, "Yes…it does…because I once heard you say that even for a relationship you couldn't give up everything you worked for," she lowered her voice.

Gil gazed over at her, he wondered when he'd ever said such a thing to Sara, but he was almost pretty sure he'd never said such a thing in her presence, "I said that?" he asked.

Sara gave a slight nod, "anyway, ancient history now."

Gil just stared at her, still wracking his brain for any memory of what she was implying he'd once said.

Sara remained silent, she gazed into her chocolate soufflé. She was pensive, and somewhat somber, and finally, after what seemed like longest time, she spoke. "Gil…I don't think I could live with myself if you lost your job over this…" her voice was a melancholy murmur. "So…if you want to walk away from this, now…I'd understand…and…I don't think I could hold it against you."

Gil could only look at her, her words felt like an icy shock of water down the back. He understood what she was saying. She was giving him an option to back out – to choose her or his job, with absolutely no hard feelings whatsoever.

Sara's face was extremely dismal, and her eyes fell to the table cloth as if she were seeing another world there, hidden in the fabric. Her emotions were blatant, her words had been sincere.

Gil felt a rush of emotions sweeping over him too. This admission by her was what made him realize that her feelings were genuine. She did love him, and if she had to sacrifice their relationship in exchange for his happiness, then she was willing to do it. Electric shivers rippled through his flesh, her words causing the warmth of his skin to turn to cold gooseflesh.

It was time to make an admission to her too. He just hoped his words weren't about to fail him as they always seemed to do at the most inopportune times.

"Sara," he began, he drew his breath and began what he was beginning to feel concerned might be a very long speech, "let me tell you something about myself – and as absurd as it may sound…try not to laugh because…what I'm about to say may sound a little humourous, but I intend it to be perfectly and deadly serious…"

"Okay…" Sara trailed off.

"I don't sing in the shower," he in a very flat tone.

Sara looked at him, he could tell she was beginning to think this was the most absurd statement she'd ever heard.

"But…for the first time ever, this afternoon, caught myself singing…" Gil continued, he began to feel this speech was going in the wrong direction. He tried to save it. "There I was standing in the shower, and suddenly this voice comes out…the song I can't even remember having heard on the radio…I didn't even know the song had made any impact on me, I wasn't aware I even knew enough of the lyrics to sing it…but there I was…standing there in the shower, singing this song…not very well, but I was singing."

"I'm not sure I follow," Sara admitted, she sounded nervous.

"I'm grinning like a moron at work – I suddenly look forward to my days off rather than not looking forward to them at all – knowing that at least on one day I'll see you…I look forward to finishing my shift, not because it means I can finally go get some sleep, but because I'll get to drive you home, and share coffee and breakfast with you, and talk to you without it being work related…" he trailed off. "I'm singing in the shower, for God's sake, Sara," he gave a small burst of anxious laughter. "Don't you get it?"

Sara didn't nod nor shake her head, she waited with an expression of apprehension growing on her beautiful face.

"I'm happy, Sara," Gil finally confessed, "I'm happy because finally there's more to live for than just work…you were right…you said it last month when we were in my car…that if you could just get me away from work maybe I'd see that there was more to life…that maybe the work would drain out to me and the life would begin to sink in…and it has…as much as I'm trying to cling onto work, I can't, because I can't stop thinking about you…"

Sara seemed quite flabbergasted at this revelation. She'd been speechless for some moments now.

"I'm just hoping that what I'm saying will get through to you. I could simplify it in three small words, but this feels so much bigger than those three simple little words, Sara. This is bigger than anything I've ever felt before."

Sara finally found her voice, "I…don't know what to say," she said, but she gave an earnest smile, "I don't think I've heard you ever admit to feeling so much in all the time I've known you…"

Gil reached over the table and took her hand, for once, he hadn't been afraid to do so, "and that means something, doesn't it?" he asked, "Because for once…I'm telling you how I feel…I'm not struggling with the words…I'm not tongue tied."

"I'm bowled over, completely," Sara confessed.

"Me too…" Gil confessed.

"So…what are you really saying?"

"I'm saying…that…" he wanted to say the words 'I love you' but it just felt too soon to say it. Despite how simple those words were, it felt more complicated to say it at this moment in time. "That I'm not walking away from this relationship now. It's taken me too long to get here. Everything's changed, I can't go back now…and I don't want to."

Sara smiled, "Say it again," she suggested, her brown eyes twinkled.

Gil squeezed her hand, "I'm not walking away."