I know that, if this story were to take place in present time, Grissom would be turning forty-nine. However, for the sake of my story we're all going to pretend that he's turning fifty. If anyone actually has a beef with that, please, don't read on
Many thanks to Lauren for the marathon text messaging session this afternoon. Thank you to Marlou for the intensive research and for the beta.
"You don't look fifty."
Grissom looked at her quizzically, ridding himself of his labcoat, stowing it away in his locker. "Excuse me?"
Sara grabbed her jacket and threw it on. "Fifty, you don't look fifty."
After a few moments of silence, she grabbed his locker door, took his badge off of his labcoat and shoved it in his face. He stared at it while she retrieved her bag from her locker. It just wasn't clicking, so she sighed and pointed to the date on the back, just underneath his personal contact information.
August 17, 1956.
"Huh." His voice was both full of surprise and disdain; she didn't know how he could manage to sound like that. "Tomorrow's my birthday." Shrugging, he placed his ID back into the locker and shut it without a second look.
Sara's brow knit in confusion. "That's it?" He looked at her, wondering if there was something that he was supposed to say in this particular situation. "Do you at least have plans?" She wasn't prying, she just thought that on such a, well, huge occasion someone had planned something.
Without giving it thought, he shook his head, indicating the negative. "Don't celebrate my birthday. Never have. I like it that way."
"Too bad." She said sternly, pulling her hair out from the collar of her jacket. Grissom stared her down in that authoritative way he thought worked so wellit didn't, at least not with her. So, in her flippant manner, she smiled sweetly at him. "And don't ask me what we're doing because I don't know yet. But hey, at least it'll be a surprise for the both of us."
Pursing his lips in mock anger, he simply looked at her. "Right?" She prompted him again, poking him in the bicep on the way out.
This time, he actually thought of something to say, but when he turned to look at her all he was faced with was the door to the locker room swinging back and forth... mocking him in its seemingly perpetual motion.
Grissom went home that morning wondering what he'd done so right in his life... that she would refuse to give up on him. That thought almost kept him awake, almost. But he fell asleep and dreamed of nothing.
He was jarred from his sleep by the shrill ringing of his phone. Muttering a gruff 'hello' in the mouth piece, he opened his eyes and turned over in bed; it wasn't polite, but at that moment, he really didn't care.
"Birthday boy!" She was driving he could tell, and it made him uneasy. 'Two hands on the wheel Sara, two hands, please!' Her voice bubbled, there was a hint of a laugh in it and it made him feel warm even though he was covered in a comforter.
He groaned, but just because he knew he had to or her mind would positively reel. "Aw, don't sound so glum." He smiled, knowing she had bought it. "And don't pretend to be irritated, I know you're not." His smile fell and he grumbled for real this time, turning once more over onto his other side.
"So Catherine called me," she mentioned cheerily."
Eyes closed, he slipped a bit further down into the bed. "And?"
"And..." Her smile was contagious, reached out of the phone and turned his lips up. "And she wanted to know if I had planned something with you for today. If I hadn't, she was gonna."
"So I suppose I should thank you for saving me."
Sara laughed and clicked her teeth with her tongue. "Don't count your chickens... I'm on my way there, by the way." Grissom straightened a bit. "So get ready."
"Now? You're on your way here now?" He swung his legs out of bed and sat up quickly, the blood rushing to his head, making him momentarily dizzy. "But I need to shower and-"
"Trust me, no you don't." Sara made a left turn and paused in her conversation to Grissom to scream at someone out the window who had cut her off. Grissom clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.
He voiced his concern to her in a quiet voice. "Sara, if you want to talk to me why don't you pull over so you don't kill yourself."
A side of her mouth leapt up at the concern in his voice, a lopsided grin plastered on her face. She cradled the phone to her ear as if it were his hand. "I'm almost done, I promise." She took another left. "Just get dressed, something comfortable. Don't bother with a wallet or... uh, anything. But grab some uh, other clothes. Sweatpants maybe. Something you'd wear around your house..."
Before he could tell her that he really ought to shower, she cut in. "And really, you want to wait to shower, I promise you." Her voice was taunting and made him bite his lip in anticipation. Grissom then heard a click on his end of the line and realized she'd hung up. With a shrug and a sigh he got up and went through the motions of dressing himself comfortably.
It took him a few minutes to decide on what she'd intended when she said comfortable, so he pulled on an old pair of worn jeans and a black IZod shirt. He tossed on an old pair of loafers and ran a comb through his hair, wondering if it was really necessary to trim his beard.
But then a knock resounded at his door and he let her in. She nearly burst through the door, perky and pretty and threw herself into his arms. He stood stock still for a moment, forgetting what to do in such a situation. Then he wrapped his arms lightly around her and smiled when she told him happy birthday.
"Where are we going?" He asked as he grabbed his keys and was tugged out the door. The afternoon was overcast, but her energy and genuine smile seemed to light up the atmosphere, just a little. She hummed a bit as she pulled out of her space and leaned forward to switch on the radio. "It's your call."
"It's your car."
"It's your birthday!" She said giddily and motioned towards the radio with her chin. "Pick something!"
Grissom settled on a classic rock station after a moment and sat back in the seat. He wondered whether the skipping of a shower was noticeable. Grissom had a feeling that Sara would mention if that was a problem so he allowed himself to relax, just a little.
He noticed when Sara turned towards the Strip and became nervous. What good could come of the garish colors and touristy atmosphere of the Strip? He'd always hated it; she knew he hated it, so why were they headed in that direction.
His fears were heightened when she pulled into the monstrous parking garage that accompanied the Bellagio. "Sara... what are we doing here..."
She just glanced at him and smiled and offered a mysterious, "You'll see."
Grissom grumbled and his spirits fell. This was not how he wanted to spend the evening. But, humoring her, he got out of the car and followed her into the lobby of the hotel. Sara walked briskly up to the desk and fiddled with the sunglasses atop her head. "Hello, Ms. Sidle," the bubbly receptionist said and handed her an envelope. Sara thanked the woman and walked back over to Grissom. She paused in front of him, smiled and weaved her way through the crowds to the elevators.
A moment later, Grissom begrudgingly followed. "What's that?" He asked, his voice low, almost angry, but she just continued to smile and stepped on the elevator when it dinged 'hello'.
She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, the envelope between them. Again, she was humming, stealing glances at him standing next to her, wanting badly to laugh at the look of sheer discomfort on her face. The elevator dinged when it reached the top floor and she stepped out, waiting for him to do the same.
She led him to the Penthouse suite. Standing in front of it, bouncing on her heels, she opened the envelope and produced two cards, one a key card, and one a credit card.
His heart leapt to his throat. She hadn't reserved a room for the two of them to share... had she?
She opened the door and with a little "tad-da" flicked on the lights.
There was a giant bed, a plasma television... and more balloons than he could count. Slowly, he glanced over at her. "Sara..."
"Happy... birthday?" She began to mumble quickly. "I just figured, you know, you told me once that you never partied and I figured, birthday, hotel party, it was stupid, sorry, I'll just-"
"No, no no. It's... amazingly... considerate... of you." He smiled hesitantly and stepped into the room. She waited for a moment and did the same but left the door open.
"I, uh, here." She thrust the credit card into his hand and he took it, looking at the object with curiosity. "Don't even ask how much is on it, you don't want to know." Sara smiled a little. Then she stepped back, towards the door. "The guys, downstairs..." She gestured with a finger, "Owed us a 'favor' after that mob hit we cleared for them last year and I cashed in..."
She didn't want to assume that he wanted her to stay so she hung near the door, wanting desperately to reach out and hold onto the door knob just to have something to hold onto.
Grissom nodded, mouth slightly open, and turned back to once more survey the large, posh room. He'd never been in a room quite that... that... THAT before.
"So, I uh, I'll come pick you up tonight, or tomorrow, or... call me whenever you want to leave. Unless..." She worried her lip, more unsure of herself than she'd been in months. "You wanna take a cab, because the card-" His silence and less than enthusiastic manner made her uncomfortable and spurred her to leave.
"You're leaving?" He spun around to regard her and she nodded slowly. "How am I supposed to have a hotel party without at least one... guest?" A small smile began to creep up onto his lips.
"I just thought-"
Grissom laughed and tugged her into the room, shutting the door in the process. "No, there is just no way I'm hitting that wet bar by myself."
Sara stood stock still.
"I'm thinking deliriously expensive room service and B-grade horror..." He grinned boyishly and felt suddenly infused with energy. "But you don't have any clothes... that's okay. We'll just buy you some."
Grissom sat down on the bed and picked up the phone; he went through the process of asking a steward to bring her a pair of pajamas, telling the man that he didn't care what they cost, to just bring them. Then he ordered two large pizzas... and the entire dessert cart.
Never let it be said that Grissom didn't take advantage of a good situation.
"What are you waiting for?" He asked her. "It's my birthday, make with the party!"
Sara laughed and went to the mini bar and began mixing them both drinks.