Thank you to... Emmakins (new nickname for you everytime)... Mr. Cheesefires (I thought that would die out too Marlou but hey, it's still here...) and Radish (Lauren, who is currently vay-caying it up. Let's all watch as I glare menacingly to the north in hopes that she can somehow sense my contempt...)
Sara slipped the dress on and awkwardly reached around and zipped it up. Smoothing her hands over the fabric, she looked at herself in the mirror. The dress came to just below her knees, the hem frilling around just a bit. The straps were incredibly thin and cross-sectioned her freckles, making her arms look impossibly long. The dip in the back came to just above her bra line and in the front it cut down modestly in a vee, accentuating her collarbones. A little flowery number, she never thought she'd see the day.
Overall, it was a nice dress, even if it did make her feel a tad conspicuous.
Her hair was curled and twisted up loosely.
Sara turned from side to side, examining herself at every angle she could. Damn, did she feel strange wearing such a feminine dress. Sara secured a small pearl necklace around her neck and scrutinized her appearance. Sara felt entirely too frail standing there in the dainty outfit. Slowly, she slipped flat sandals on her feet and bit her lip.
Lipstick! She needed lipstick...
Convincing herself that she looked just fine, Sara went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, needing something to keep herself busy while she waited.
She opened the door to him and was greeted with a soft image: Grissom dressed in tan worsted wool, looking relaxed and happy. The brilliant gold luster of the silk of his tie made his skin shine and the deep cornflower blue of the shirt made his eyes look so much deeper. Yes, she wanted to swim in them.
But Sara just smiled a tiny smile and stepped back to allow him into her home. "I, just... let me grab my sweater..." Sara said and reigned in her grin as his seemed to widen.
Quickly, she scurried off into the bedroom, glanced in the mirror again and smiled at herself. She felt fourteen and in that moment, she loved it.
Returning to the living room, she was met with the pleasant sight of Grissom's back, his hands in his pockets as he glanced around at her furnishings. Sara stood back and just watched him for a moment and listened to him breathe; did he sound that peaceful when he slept?
Moving towards him slowly, he turned to face her. "Hm, ready to go?" He asked, taking the sweater from his hands, holding it out for her. Blushing, she shrugged it on, dipped her head and moved towards the door nodding.
The low afternoon sun glinted off his sunglasses as he put them on. A hand fell to the small of her back as they walked towards the car. "You look... different," he said, his voice gravelly.
Different? Well, she supposed she could deal with different, even if that hadn't been what she had hoped for. "And gorgeous," he whispered in her ear, dipping his head low and placing his hands on her shoulders. Though his words were warming and welcome, she was still nervous of his behavior. Doing all she could to suppress the urge to once more ask him 'why', she climbed into his car and sat back, a thousand scenarios running through her head as to how the day would eventually end.
The wedding was a simple affair, being held on the grounds of the Pahruhmp Colonial Country Club. Lilacs and gardenia flanked the aisles and tangled in Sara's nose in such a lovely way. It had been some time since she had attended a wedding and had forgotten what a lovely time they could be. 'Lovely,' exactly how she almost felt.
They were seated on the groom's side, abreast Catherine and Warrick. Nick and Greg and their dates were somewhere up front, having arrived earlier. Sara glanced around at the guests on the bride's side. Most looked slightly withdrawn, save for the pair of punks sitting towards the back, talking quietly. David's wife-to-be Gillian was a librarian, a rather demure, plain woman. Her traits seemed to extend to the rest of her guests.
Grissom had placed his hand on her knee and she turned to look down at the source of the warm touch. He smiled at her when she glanced up to meet his eyes. The nerves which had been plaguing her for the past few weeks had begun to settle, to become acclimated to his warm glances and even warmer touches. So, she smiled back and leaned into him, just a bit.
The traditional music started to play and the bridesmaids and ushers filtered out. Sara briefly wondered if she'd ever get the chance to be involved in a wedding, even if it was someone else's.
It was all very adorable, especially when David blushed furiously as he recited his vows. The stark innocence of his face made Sara smile and lean into Grissom's side. There was 'awww'ing and clapping and the newlyweds walked down the aisle and the guests trailed off the lawn to the clubhouse complex.
As she stood, Sara had turned to Catherine to make a comment and felt Grissom's hand twine into hers slowly. Catherine's eyes were drawn slowly down, as were Warrick's. The couple looked up at Sara at the same time, missing Grissom squeezing her hand. Sara merely gave a hint of a smile and asked what table they were at.
The foursome was joined by Nick and Greg and the group made their way across the grass, Catherine having to stop intermittently to pull her stiletto from the grass. Greg introduced everyone to Naomi, his date; she was a graduate of Stanford too, an art history major going for her masters so she could teach. Nick was accompanied by Judy, the perky little receptionist at his side, grasping his hand much like Grissom was holding Sara's.
And something about the relaxed nature of her friends, of the pleasant cool of the day and the delightfulness of the event that had taken place made the moths flutter up in Sara's stomach. She felt... nice. Not amazing or brilliant, just relaxed and nice and normal. "You okay," Grissom asked as they trailed behind the group.
God, he looked so suave, so undeniably handsome... and all she could think of was undressing him. "I'm... I'm good," came her answer as she looked over the golf course at the red rocks of the mountains in the distance.
Grissom pulled her aside, behind a row of bushes and brought her in for a startlingly erotic kiss. "Walking on the wild side I see," Sara muttered when they broke apart to rejoin the group. Oh, his hand was so firm in hers, so right, so fitting. Grissom chuckled and pulled her to him, draped an arm around her shoulders and made his way over to Warrick, who was grabbing a drink from the bar.
The guests milled about the veranda, chatting, holding plates of hors d'oeuvres and drinks. "I'll be right back," Grissom said to her and she nodded, moving to sit down next to Nick.
Nick looked from Sara over to his boss and then back to Sara. "What... is going on?"
"Huh?" Damn, she liked watching that man go... She pulled her eyes back to Nick and shook the lewd thoughts from her head.
Nick smiled knowingly at her. "Never thought I'd see the day..." Nick mumbled, winked and turned to Judy who was attempting to nudge a beer into his hand. She wanted to tell him, 'Neither did I,' but held off as Grissom returned with a martini in each hand, holding one out to her.
As much as she wanted to pretend to be invested in the conversation that was taking place around her-something about discovering a torso on a golf course-she couldn't help but think she'd honestly been pulled into a parallel dimension where things were normal and she was having a good time just being human, but when Grissom slung his arm around the back of her chair and began gesturing wildly to the group, she decided once and for all...
She didn't care. Beggars couldn't be choosers and in this case, beggars couldn't define what normal was even if they wanted to.
They ate dinner, they watched the cake being cut; Catherine took numerous pictures and even convinced David to dance with her. Nick twirled Gillian around the floor, just because he could and told her that David was a very lucky man indeed. Everyone danced; Sara fell into Warrick's arms more than once and was passed to Brass and Nick; Greg of course had his chance with her, as did David and the punk teenager even got her to boogie down with him.
Sara danced with Grissom once, when the floor was tightly packed, so no one would take much notice of how his hand slipped over her back and how he whispered in her ear and made her shiver with delight. Sinatra crooned out a song and Grissom hummed along, allowing his mouth to fall on her shoulder once, twice, three times... and kiss her there.
Her head lolled back a bit and he kissed her neck slowly.
This was too good to be a dream. She had to be dead or... perhaps high or insanely drunk. Oh, but she didn't care what she was as long as he held her close like that for a good long time.
She drove her back to her apartment, the windows down, her hair being tousled by the soft gentle breeze. Sara felt like she was in some sort of updated fairy tale, one she didn't wish to end. Her hand out the window, it skated along the current, dancing in the night.
She hopped daintily from the car, wanted to skip but refrained. She turned to say goodnight to Grissom but he was already out of the car, walking around the car to meet her on the gravel path. Sara gave him one look and just kissed him, launched herself at his lips and kissed him deeply He kissed back, grasping her around the waist and holding the soft warmth to him.
Sara tore her lips away from his to breathe, but Grissom just kept kissing her; her cheeks, her neck, her hair. "I, I would, I would invite you up, I would... but that would be a bad idea."
Grissom nodded against her skin, chuckling a bit. "Yeah, bad idea..." His tongue traced along her earlobe and she slammed him back into the passenger side door and ground up against him; she laughed against his lips as he gripped her shoulders and tried to wrap his mind around what was happening.
"Bad, bad, bad," she whispered and snaked her hand down and cupped him through his pants. Grissom's eyes snapped open and a feral groan ripped up from his throat.
Grissom pressed up against her and spun them around, pinning her against the car, grinding into her. "Decision time," Grissom said, pulling back, his hands on her face, looking in her eyes.
"Hmmm, depends... how do you take your coffee in the morning?"