Thanks: To Marlou, for the superior, and to Laura Katherine... by association. Lauren, who dealt with me during my crazy breakdown due to money and school.
And to each and every one of the reviewers. You make me smile, and god knows I've needed to smile lately. Thanks for making my day a little less dismal.
Many breakfasts accompanied the ushering in of Spring, and the air seemed to lift around him that much more. Sara continued to shun eggs and opt for higher carb dishes. This made Grissom nervous, wondering how much protein she was getting.
His mind wrapped around tofu and he wondered, for a moment, that if he began to eat it, she would take to him more kindly. Not that he wasn't taking to her kindly as it was... it was just...
Gil Grissom didn't know how to chase. He knew he felt the need to chase her, throw himself out there as she had, but he didn't know how.
Yes, if it was any other woman, he would have seduced her. He knew suave, and he knew charming and he knew romantic. He knew good sex, and he knew great sex, and he knew mind-blowing sex. He knew well, yes, Gil Grissom knew how to date a woman, how to woo a woman and how to get a woman into bed.
Sara Sidle... was... not a woman. Well, she was, but she was everything that was cliche about the phrase 'so much more.' He decided not to fuss over the decisions he had made in the past, taking a page from Catherine's rather long and tattered book: Never doubt and never look back.
Never doubt, yeah right.
It was positively gorgeous out when he left CSI headquarters, and even he paused to take in the wonder of the day. The sun just tipped the warm scale, pressing on his skin, almost prompting him to think of her. Damned sun.
As if on cue, Sara sauntered out of the building. She'd since divested herself of her zip up sweater, favoring the feeling of the sun on her bare shoulders. The tank top she wore was the color of a barely ripened tomato, and it looked like it was splotched with bleach. He wondered if that was the style, but supposed not; she tended to wear odd clothing, stuck to tones that were fairly earthy.
Biting the inside of his lip, he reprimanded his brain. Friends, friends, very good friends.
But she smiled when she realized he was looking over at her. And he smiled back, goofily, mentally smacking himself for looking like such a fool. For being such a fool.
"Good mood?" He knew she's spent nearly six hours over a garishly-lighted evidence table, pouring over samples and photographs.
As if for effect, she shrugged the cricks out of her semi-stiff neck as her smile grew. "Nothing a bath won't cure."
That was it: the image of her in a bathtub, doing nothing but relaxing, head against porcelain, perhaps candles scattered around the room. In his head there were always candles, and bubbles and her hum, hum, humming while her eyes slipped closed.
She made her way to her own car as he stood by his, suddenly slipping the key into the lock, holding the driver's side door open. Sara smiled again as she too slipped her key into the door and turned.
"Come with me." He stated it, rather than asked. Sara didn't bother to hide the mid-morning mirth gripping her features.
It was as simple as that; she placed her keys back in her bag and walked over to the passenger side of his SUV. She was sultry, though he knew she hadn't intended to be. "Where are we going?"
"Though I hate them, for you... it's a surprise." It had slipped his mind not to wink at her, and he did, throwing her for a loop. An impressive pseudo-smile graced her lips and he turned the car on and threw it into drive, pulling out of the lot, feeling unusually sure of himself.
They got stuck in morning traffic on the way down the strip, bumper to bumper with a bunch of SUVS. It took Sara only a few moments to realize where they were headed. "No..."
"Yes." He said, flipped her a smile and looked back out at the road.
She sighed and leaned back in the seat. "But... this is your, you know, thing."
He said nothing until he pulled into a rather vast parking lot and threw the car into park. "Yes, it is." And then he winked. Winked! Right at her, in that silly boyish way that he sometimes toyed with. Reluctantly, she tried to keep up with him as he weaved his way through cars, a spring in his unusually clipped stride.
They hovered around the entrance, waiting in line, chatting amicably. Grissom was more than happy to use his park credit on admission for the two of them. As familiar as Sara was with Grissom's coaster obsession, she was surprised to find just how many times he had visited. "Congrats on your hundredth Mr. Grissom," the perky Asian at the counter said to him, handed him two tickets, and asked for the next in line.
A hundred times? He'd ridden these coasters a hundred times? "Do you, well, know the coasters by now? I mean, after all this time, wouldn't your body anticipate the turns, the drops, the..." Sara trailed off to make sure that Grissom knew where she was going with her line of thought.
He paused en route to a rollercoaster and looked at her. "I suppose. But, that's not why I ride them." He looked back out towards the park and began walking again, hands in his pockets. "I ride them because they clear my mind, because I can be... something like alone there."
Confusion etched her features as she trailed beside, and slightly behind him. "Then why am I here? If you want to be alone?"
Face still rather blank as they got in a relatively short line, he turned to her quickly. "I don't want to be alone." He turned back around, facing away from her, as she became even more confused.
It was amazing, they'd ridden seven rollercoasters in two hours. Surprisingly, Sara was having an incredible time; she felt rather exhilarated, ambling around on wobbly legs. But, as they were on their way to the eighth coaster, she began to feel somewhat dizzy and plopped herself onto a weather-worn bench.
He too sat next to her, looking her over for a moment. She was breathing heavily, allowing her head to loll from side to side. Oh yes, she was nauseous, he knew that look well. Touching her lightly on the shoulder, he got up, walked across the way and purchased a bottle of water and a bag of cotton candy. He opened the bag and tossed the candy into the garbage can, walking briskly over to her.
The moment he stepped in front of her to give her the water she vomited. She heaved twice, once on his shoes, and once into the bag he shoved into her hand. Sara groaned, sat back and watched as Grissom sat beside her. He held out the water to her, his lips pressed firmly together, but not upset.
She brought the water to her lips, color still rather high in her cheeks, and swished. Her brow gathered sweat and her hair hung at an odd angle, framing her face in a choppy version of curtains. She spit four or five times, and then groaned.
He sat there, staring at her for a moment, which she thought was meant to spur her to speak. "Give me a minute, I'll be good to go, we still have how many coasters?"
He chuckled in disbelief at that. "Sara, we're through for the day. You're... well... not in the best condition to-"
"No. I'll be good in a minute. I wanna..." She took another gulp of water and sat back. "You wanna do this. I wanna do this. I'll be ready in a minute."
It was there, in that sentence, during the speaking of it that he was hit in the face with a large brick, smacking him into the realization of things. Here she was, completely sick, dizzy, sweating... wanting nothing more than to ride rollercoasters... with him.
He didn't think about it, not really. Grissom just moved in and captured her lips with his, a sweet, brief kiss that made her more dizzy than any rollercoaster ever could.
Yeah, he'd thrown her for a loop.