Thanks to Sara for the beta.
"Where are we going?"
Sara didn't reply, choosing to keep her eyes trained on the road in front of her. There was a delicious little smirk on her lips and he had to wonder why. "Where are we going?" He asked again, turning to face her directly. Gil Grissom didn't like surprises. He just didn't.
She sighed and glanced at him quickly. "Turn on the radio or something. You're pissing me off." Though the tone of her voice was authoritative, the smirk still sat on her lips, confirming Grissom's suspicions that she wasn't really mad at him.
He realized then that he should have called her on her saying that he was pissing her off. But technically they weren't coworkers at the moment. They were psuedo-friends; old friends rebuilding something that they had lost long ago.
Grissom stared at her for a moment, committing to memory how she looked in that moment. In that moment, that one brief scene in time, he wished he had tried to mend their friendship earlier. Maybe, if he'd taken this step years ago, he would have been allowed to lean over and kiss her now. But he sighed, happy that he was given the chance to go back and fill in the cracks they'd left in their relationship.
The foundation for future endeavors would be much more secure because they were taking the time to get to know each other again.
Sara threw the SUV into park, effectively snapping him from his thoughts. Grissom took a moment to situate himself before he glanced up to find where they were... and he nearly laughed. Instead, he folllowed her out of the car walked around to meet her at the front of the vehicle.
"This is possibly the most juvenile thing I've been forced to do in the past ten years." Grissom grumbled next to her, one hand in his pocket, the other finding its way to her lower back. She flinched briefly and then settled in, glad for the gesture.
It was she who reached out and held the door open for him. "I'm not forcing you to do anything." She muttered back, shoving him through the door, into the foyer.
"Well, if I wanted to leave, it's a three hour walk back to town. And you have the keys."
She walked in front of him and pulled open the second door, not bothering to look back at him when she quipped, "You could wrestle me for them." He smirked and walked through the door, his eyes being assaulted with harsh lights, his ears thrumming with some top 40 hit that was blaring over the speakers.
"Yes, you see, but then you're have to explain why, when I pull into work with you bound and gagged in the backseat, you got yourself in that position."
A snort was his reward. "You assume you'd win. I'd have your ass in a sling for assault."
He fumbled with his wallet for a moment, looking over at his smiling face. "Oh, you would not. Don't be so dramatic."
Sara glared at him and stepped closer. "That's it, you and me, Vegas Boxing, next Tuesday, no pads." She joked grabbing his wallet from his hands, shoving it deeply into her back pocket. "You're goin' down."
Grissom actually laughed at that. "You're probably right. You tend to get a bit feisty when you have your eyes on the prize." He winked at her.
"Feisty? I'll ignore that for now, and I'm treating, this was my 'juvenile' idea anyway." He was rewarded with a saccharine grin before she took off to the counter and laid down her ID for a lane.
He walked up behind her, giving the man at the counter his shoe size. "Now, why is it atomic, as opposed to generic bowling?"
Sara shot him a withering look and pursed her lips. "The lights, the music, anything registering?"
"And what, pray tell, is so wonderful about lights and music?"
She grabbed her shoes and took his, shoving them into his chest. "They're blacklights. And it's, it's just fun. Stop complaining and just try it for 'chissakes." She whined, steering him down to their lane-Lane 32, the second to last, way down at the end.
Grissom's mind began to wander for a moment, as he looked down at the blue and white seats. It was the same, in every bowling alley. Pleasing, alternating colors. Blue, white, blue, white. He pondered for a moment why that was and realized he had, for once, let his mind drift to completely inconsequential subject matter. He felt lighter, freer, able to indulge in this adolescent moment with her without attempting to rationalize it.
When he snapped to, she was finished tying her bowling shoes, looking at him quizzically. She smiled at him, not bothering to question what he was thinking about. "Tell me you're doing calculations in your head." She said, tilting her chin up to him.
Pursing his lips, he nodded tightly. "Oh, you know me..." He said sarcastically, sitting down to take off his shoes.
She laughed at him and moved around him to retrieve a bright pink ball off of the rack. "God, that is so hot," Sara said in jest, testing the weight of the ball in her hand before settling on it.
Rolling his eyes, he smirked and finished tying his shoe. Sara brought herself around to the computerized screen in front of them after placing her ball on the rack. "How shall I enter your name?" She brought a finger to her lips. She felt wonderful, just sitting there with him, relaxing, acting like she didn't still love him. "Doctor Grissom? Or perhaps bugman..."
He gently removed her hand from the electronic keyboard and typed in 'Gil' and shoved her hand away when she went to enter in her own name. "Sara," he typed in slowly and looked over at her.
"Do you have any idea how long it took me to get used to writing that name without the H at the end?" He asked, question meant to be rhetorical.
"How long?"
"That was meant to be rhetorical." Grissom said flatly. She smiled at him and pushed gently on his shoulder.
"I know. And you're up. Show me what you're made of."
He got up, tossed his ball down the lane, following it up with another, picking up a spare. He walked back and plunked himself into the seat.
"This music is horrendous." He said distastefully, screwing up his face as if he'd just swallowed a spoonful of vingear.
Sara regarded him for a moment before throwing her head back and laughing. "It is, I'll agree."
Sara brushed up beside him, sitting beside him at the console. "You're receptive tonight. What the hell changed?" She's said it good-naturedly, but he, regardless, took it seriously.
"Call it a belated mid-life crisis."
"So instead of buying a Ferrari..." She got up and walked to the line at the edge of the lane. Sara trailed off and sent her ball sailing down the alley for a strike. She hopped a bit and thrust her hands up in the air and he was stricken with sorrow and longing. He guiltily suppressed it as she sauntered back to him. "You... what? Change?"
Grissom stared off into space for a moment before responding to her inquiry. "I, well, let's just say, in the interest of science, I openly throw myself in the way of change." He glanced at her. "To see what comes of it."
She stood, though it was his turn. He regarded her with a creased brow. "You look like a man who needs cheese fries." Sara moved around him and paused before taking the step up onto the carpet. "And that's uh... that's, well, impressive of you Griss."
And then she walked off to the bar, letting him watch her move away.