Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT

Chapter 99: Getting It Back – Part 10

August 26, 2005 (Day 126)
The Townhouse
4:21 p.m.

Upon seeing Greg, Grissom released his grip on Tawny and jumped back. "You said he'd be gone until four-thirty."

Tawny bounded across the living room to Greg. "You have to promise not to tell Sara."

"Excuse me!" He gaped at his girlfriend. "You want me to promise not to tell Sara? What about me? What are the two of you doing listening to romantic music and holding each other close!"

Tawny stared at her man. "What? Do you actually think we we're getting it on? Oh my god, Greg! I was teaching him how to slow dance for his date with Sara tonight. That's why you can't tell her. It's a surprise."

Greg's eyes darted from Tawny to Grissom and back again. They looked equally appalled. "HA! I had you going didn't I!" He cracked a wide grin as he put on the act. "As if I'm that insecure. And…eww! I mean you're pregnant with my babies and his wife is pregnant, not to mention you asked him to stand in for your dad at the wedding. Yeah…that storyline would make a good sequel to that movie Closer…whoa…those couples were really screwed up. Not like us…we're normal and very secure in our monogamous relationships." He shrugged and laughed. "Yeah…I was going to prolong the joke further but, you both looked so upset I figured I better come clean." As he scratched his head he wondered if they bought it.

Grissom and Tawny chuckled simultaneously and then she said, "Good one. Unlike when you told me it was Gil who went to The Bunny Ranch and gave you the scoop, I actually believe you this time."

Grissom blurted, "I never told you about going there."

Now it was Greg and Tawny's turn to look shocked together.

Mortified, Grissom groveled, "Once, many, many years ago and I didn't even have…" Then he wised up and followed Greg's lead. "I was doing research…forensic psychology..." He checked his watch. "Wow, look at the time. I need to get home. Thanks again for the lesson, Tawny. Sara will be stunned when I ask her to dance and actually take the lead on the floor."

Holding in his laughter Greg watched Grissom hurry down the hall. "Maybe you should ask her to do The Bunny Hop!"

Tawny playfully punched her jokester man. "Stop! He's embarrassed enough." That's when she noticed the small velvet jewelry box in Greg's hand. "OH! OH!" She jittered with excitement. "I can't believe you're going to…oh my god! I'm not dressed up or…oh I don't care what I look like I just…"

"No!" Greg held up his free hand. "Sorry…it's not an engagement ring."

"Oh." She struggled to hide her disappointment and failed miserably. "I just assumed because…"

"It's foreplay," He said through a smile.

"Foreplay?" Tawny stared at the gilded box. "Now I'm really confused."

Unable to a wait a second longer, Greg revealed the surprise. "Diamond foreplay." He enthusiastically displayed the open box containing two half-carat diamond-solitaire earrings. "Happy Belated Valentine's Day."

"They're so beautiful." She was in awe of the dazzling round diamonds.

Watching her eyes well up he imagined what her reaction would be in eight days when he presented his next sparkly surprise. "I hope you'll forgive my tardiness, but I didn't know you in February."

"I forgive you," She giddily replied.

Taking her right hand Greg practiced, "I love you, Tawny. Will you do me the honor of…" He paused for dramatic effect. "…being my belated valentine?"

Her loving gaze was clouded with tears. "Yes, Greg…I'd loveto be your belated valentine." Reaching up she removed the gold hoop earrings she was wearing.

Beaming, he plucked the earrings from their velvet pillow and removed the clasps. Then, while Tawny held her hair away from her face, he placed one gem in each ear and fastened the clasps. "I know my mom bought you a ton of stuff for California so you'd blend in, but these are critical, and you should be indulged for putting up with me." After pausing to watch her golden hair cascading over her shoulders, he continued, "And I wanted to see if diamonds agreed with you before investing in more. Do they?"

"They do." She sniffled. "Absolutely without a doubt. I'll never change my mind. It feels so right…I mean the diamonds feel so right."

"I was thinking the same thing." Now with the pressure of what her answer would be out of the way, he'd be able to focus on making the proposal in California as perfect as possible…a real showstopper.

"This is, without a doubt, the most fantastic foreplay I've ever had." Throwing her arms around his neck she gushed, "Thank you so much. I've never received such a wonderful gift…and I'm not just talking about the earrings. You're the best, Greg!"

Holding the girl of dreams as she made the declaration he had heard only in fantasies, Greg closed his eyes and savored the glorious moment.

The Blakes
6:03 p.m.

With McKenna and Ashley asleep, exhausted from the day at the lake, Ryan at his friend's house, and Sean holed up in his room with a new crime solving book, Wendy seized the opportunity to curl up in her husband's arms on the couch. "Hold me tight."

"I'm all for that." Paul smiled and gently pecked his wife's cheek.

Relishing the feel of her always-traveling husband's embrace she sighed, "I cherished every minute of this day. In the past the kids would have driven me crazy after a few hours at the lake, but considering how little we've been together as a family recently…nothing bothered me. Well, nothing except the fact that I wish we could do it more often." Letting her true feelings surface she whispered, "I hate your job. I miss you."

"I miss you too." Paul held her tighter still. "I hate that you went through all that trauma about McKenna without me…or that you didn't call and tell me, because you didn't want to interfere with my job. My job has never been first priority. It's always been you and the kids. I'm a family man. But in order to make money as a new salesperson I have to be out there pounding the pavement all the time. Trust me…I hate it as much as you. I'm sick of talking to my kids over the phone and stuffy hotels. I miss home-cooked food…even tofu bake…but most of all, I miss sleeping next to you."

She smiled, knowing the tofu bake mention meant he missed being home even more than she thought. "Maybe we should have kept my parents house instead of moving in here."

"No…you needed to get away from those memories before the trial." He sighed with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "But maybe we should have moved into a smaller place, with less backyard and no pool. The boys could have shared a room and Ashley could have shared with McKenna." Shaking his head he said, "But I didn't want you staying home and trying to entertain the kids in a cramped space, and the best schools are in this neighborhood, which we need for all the kids, but especially Sean. In any case, we can't sell without getting slammed with tax penalties."

"I'd rather have you home and have a smaller house and boring yard…but I can't argue about the schools…or taxes." Wendy caught his eye. "Ryan is getting out of control. He needs a father around to curtail him. And Sean…he's reaching out to Gil and Nick for guidance all the time…and now, he's added Greg Sanders, who you'll meet tomorrow." She chuckled. "That may convince you to take a different job and be here to raise your sons." She chuckled again. "I'm just kidding about that. Aside from his goofy hair, Greg seems like a wonderful person. After all, Nick wouldn't hang around him if he were a bad person."

Paul tensed when a disturbing thought entered his head. "I trust your judgment, but let's not forget Nick considered Mike Rodgers a pal only a year ago."

"Don't utter that man's name in my house." Wendy shivered. "And you can't blame Nick for falling for that beast's manipulations. He's a genius when it comes to deception. Ugh…change the topic."

"Sorry, Honey." He kissed her cheek. "I should know better."

"About Nick…" Wendy knew this would really bring on the guilt, but decided to say it because it was on her mind and Paul needed to hear the truth. "I can't help but think part of the reason he's so tense lately is that he feels obligated to look out for the kids and me when you're gone…which is most of the time. It's not fair to him or Carrie. They should be carefree now, before they have a family of their own to worry about twenty-four seven."

"I never considered that." Now he felt even guiltier.

"I feel guilty too…he's easy to take advantage of because he always wants to do the right thing and help out."

"Yeah, my dad figured that out real fast."

"That's another problem. It's bad enough that your father acted like The Godfather telling Nick if he ever let something bad happen to Carrie he'd lose it, now I think he's expanded it to the grandchildren as well. Nick was out of his mind worrying about McKenna." She shook her head. "He wouldn't let her out of his sight. I think maybe it was compounded somehow by him thinking of what happened to Carrie and transferring that to McKenna. Does that make sense? I can't figure it out. Carrie's clammed up about it so you know there's definitely more to it. I think Nick needs professional help. Carrie thinks she can fix what's wrong. You know your sister when she's determined." Dropping her head back she groaned. "Maybe it's as simple as the poor guy being slowly poisoned by the baggage-heavy Blake family."

"How about this, dad's coming out tomorrow..." Paul rubbed his temples. "…I'll talk to him and try to get him to say something to Nick that will relieve some pressure."

Wendy knew the odds of, Ken 'I'll go to my grave feeling guilty about what happened to my daughter' Blake, following through with that request was slim. "Thanks, Honey." She pecked his lips and smiled. "Now that I have you warmed up…let's talk about the job situation. I have a radical idea."

Beaver Street Brewery
Flagstaff, Arizona
6:12 p.m.

Sitting in a corner booth of the bustling restaurant, Nick had been enjoying a frosty mug of Oatmeal Stout when Carrie stunned him with a startling suggestion. "Huh?" He stared at her, incredulous. "I never even considered it a possibility for you. Are you serious?"

"Yes." Smirking, she lowered her glass of Pinot Grigio. "I can't imagine anything else that would make me feel more…wild. I know a lot of people do it but, for me it's quite risqué."

Tenderly taking her hand he counseled, "You do know it hurts a little, right? A lot for some. I knew this girl in college who ran away screaming after only a minute."

"I'm sure I can handle it." She couldn't believe how excited she was getting from the prospect of doing something so forbidden. "Oh, and I read about this stuff you can use to make it less painful."

"Well, yeah, but…"

"And after a few minutes or so, the discomfort should ease up, right? You know…once I get used to the feeling."

Still reeling from the notion he stared into his mug. "It really depends on how relaxed you are while doing it."

After another sip of wine she leaned in whispering, "I do think I'll feel silly at first, lying there with my butt in the air…squealing. But I'm confident you'll know exactly what to say to loosen me up and put me in the zone." She winked. "Just like this morning in bed, right Honey? I was uncomfortable one minute, but in no time you had me sooooo relaxed."

"Sweetheart…" He gripped her hand tighter. "You're aren't just doing this for me, are you? Because you want to prove you've lost all your inhibition or something? I don't need you to…"

"Not at all." She effervesced a little more. "Okay, here's the twist…"

"There's a twist?" He couldn't imagine what could top the jolt he already received.

"I don't want to be the only one partaking in the adventure."

"What! You mean you want…"

"Come on!" She shot him a look. "You can't tell me you've never considered it."

After a hearty swig of ale he smirked, "My mom will kill me if she finds out…she doesn't approve. And if your father finds out, he'll kill me too for letting you do it. He'll no doubt think you did it for me."

"Nicky… our parents can't ground us." She rubbed her hands together, hoping he'd agree. "So are you up for it or not? Because if you won't do it with me, I'll do it without you…but everything is more fun when we do it together."

He'd actually thought about it before, but never went through with it. There just never seemed to be a good enough reason, but doing it at the request of his fiancée was a different story. "What kind of tattoos are we talking about here?"

Before Carrie could answer the waitress delivered their Swiss cheese fondue and platter of assorted dipping items. "House rule is, if you drop what's on your fork in the pot you have to kiss. Enjoy!"

Looking at the flame under the fondue pot Carrie had an idea. "I know exactly which tattoo. We'll both get the same. They'll be like spiritual wedding bands."

Loosely spearing a bread cube with his slender fondue fork, Nick immediately lost the square in the pot. "Uh oh." He chuckled. "And you know what a stickler I am about following the rules." Slipping his hand around the back of her neck he pulled her in for a kiss.

"Who knew being a sloppy eater could be fun?" She followed suit with the same slip of a bread cube and required kiss. "Okay…we're definitely on the verge of sickeningly sweet by the look on the face of that that obviously depressed woman sitting at the bar. I remember how it felt to see people getting lovey-dovey when I was single…it stunk. Let's start an account and save up the rest of this kissing for later under the stars, where it will be infinitely more enjoyable anyway."

"I love your empathetic soul, Sweetheart…even when it denies me action."

"Thank you."

"Now tell me, exactly what symbol I'm supposed to defile my body with, Darlin'. Those are Mama Stokes' words by the way." Settling back he forked a new bread cube properly. "When my sister Karen was at Berkeley getting her Masters, she got a dolphin on her ankle. To this day my mother can't look at a dolphin without getting' ticked…hell, not even Flipper. And Andy, being his usual egocentric self, didn't help matters back then. He threw a fit that Karen got the symbol of Miami's football team instead of Dallas's, which got my dad hooked in the argument too."

After swallowing her chomped fondue-covered carrot slice she remarked, "I really can't wait to meet this infamous brother of yours one day." Spearing another veggie she finally answered the question. "Anyway, back to our tattoos. I think we should get a Phoenix rising from the ashes...it symbolizes overcoming adversity, transformation, and hope for the future."

He considered the suggestion and nodded. "Okay. And you want yours on your back hip…which, by the way, is exactly where I'll enjoy it the most, thank you."

"I had a feeling." She grinned, and then shoved a delicious cheese-covered bread cube in her mouth.

"Where are you expecting me to get inked?" He set some limits. "I don't want it visible when I'm working."

"Me either." Carrie leaned in, purring. "I want to be the one who sees it most often. I'd like it on your upper left chest…so it's covered when you're wearing even a muscle shirt. And if it's there, it will be close to your heart at all times…like me."

"I can't believe we're going to do this. It's so not you or me." He lifted his mug and polished off its contents.

Carrie grinned wildly. "I know it's not you or me but, it's so us."

"I'm lovin' the sound of that." Out of the corner of his eyes he saw something move. "Hey look! The depressed woman is going to the restroom." Desperate to kiss his future wife who was dying to be joined spiritually by tattoos, he wasted no time covering her mouth with a delectable kiss.

The Grissoms
6:47 p.m.

When her husband finally stopped showering her with kisses Sara grinned approvingly. "So I take it you like the dress?" The Latin-inspired wrap dress, with its delicate layers of crinkled silk chiffon sparked her sexuality and as the minutes passed and her husband's gaze intensified it set her ablaze.

"It's not that I don't still love the other two dresses you own," He explained while dying to kiss her again. "And it's not just the way this dress clings to your body, or its inspired passion fruit shades…or the way your silky legs appear to go on for miles after the whimsical angled hem. You hair too…you know I love when you curl it and leave it down. It's just all so…it's so flirtatious and fun. It's so…"

"Not me." She saw her statement sent him squirming.

"Sara…or should I say Mimi…" His left eyebrow rose a fraction. "I've had plenty of fun with you so, I can say with certainty that's not true."

"Here…in the privacy of our bedroom and one time out in San Francisco, but other than that I know people see me as a bit of a stiff and definitely not feminine." Fussing with her hair she backed up her point. "You remember Miranda's reaction in San Francisco when she saw me in the red dress, she did everything but shout, 'My god, you really are a girl'!"

"It's the pregnancy hormones that make the dress enticing," He announced, knowing a little baby talk would sway her. "You're glowing as brightly as the delicate fabric of the dress." Gil knew his father would be proud, which reminded him. "And your ass does not look fat…not that it ever does in any dress…or other types of clothing…or naked." He knew his father would have delivered that line a little smoother.

A laugh bubbled within her and she let it out. "I get the point…both of them. My ass isn't fat and I used to be an unfeminine stiff but, I'm not anymore."

"Well said." He restarted his kissing assault. "However, you should know, I will love you even if you decide to only wear sweatpants from here on out." Tasting her creamy shoulder he confessed, "But I'd really love it if you'd keep surprising me with dresses every now and then. I hear they even sell sexy maternity ones."

"I'll have to check those out in a few months." That glow he mentioned earlier now encompassed her body. "Honey…you're not thinking of…"

"We're married." He slid the right spaghetti strap down. "And although I love the dress on you, I'm rather certain I'll love peeling it off you even more." Truthfully, he doubted Sara would be in a playful mood after dinner with Heather so he wanted to enjoy her now.

Sara didn't let on that her husband's persuasive lips were doing a wonderful job. "You're worried I won't be in the mood after dinner because of the company I'll be keeping so you're hoping to get a little action in before we leave."

"Don't be ridiculous." He didn't even bother sounding sincere as he moved behind his wife to locate the dress zipper.

"It's on the right side," She said as shivers of delight surged through her.

"So, you're insisting I take it off. Okay." Grinning, he freed her from the garment she only donned minutes ago.

"Oh…so it's my idea?"

With great care he laid the dress over the back of a chair so it wouldn't get wrinkled. "Don't be ashamed," Gil ruthlessly taunted as he fell in love with strapless undergarment and matching coral g-string she was wearing. "It's the hormones making you ravenous for me."

"I'm sure that's it."

Appreciating her assets one word escaped his lips. "Wow."

"Nice economy of words." She posed confidently before him. "This little ensemble is new too, as are my shoes…which you neglected to mention." Smiling, she shook her head. "Carrie would probably deny Nick access for that kind of heavy-duty infraction."

"Why look all the way down there when the views are far more breathtaking up north? If he does notice the shoes, I'm sure she had to train him to do it because it's unnatural for a man to care about store-bought goods when natural beauty is there in all its glory."

The banter was working and Sara fueled it. "There's no time. We'll be late for dinner."

He knew her statement was a hint. "Busy Girl…"

"Yes?" The game was under way. They last played it on his birthday.

"Wanna race?" Just saying the words launched him.

Aching for his touch she joked, "I think you may actually win this one because you look half way there already."

Since he always made sure she won, he knew he was in for a challenge because Sara was absolutely correct. "You love a challenge," Gil replied while lowering her against the sateen comforter. "But being a good sport who wants competition…I'll do what I can to help you along and make it a fair race." He wasted no time and got right down to business.

Just the feel of his eager body blanketing hers advanced her. Then, a second later when his lips crushed against hers demanding a kiss, she revved a little more. Next, the sensation of Gil's fingers wrapping around the edge of her thong while his tongue thrust deeper into her mouth, pushed her further still.

Maybe the pregnancy hormones really were impacting Sara, Gil thought when he realized the speed at which she was heating. He had no doubt this would be her personal best.

Surprised by her body's response, Sara raced to shed Gil's clothes. "Take your mark." Not reciprocating his thoughtfulness about wrinkle prevention, she wantonly tossed everything. "Go!" She growled while already heading down the home stretch.

Always a competitive man, this was the one thing Gil enjoyed losing time and time again. This evening's race would be no exception. While furthering Sara's cause, he counted the minutes until he could savor her victory and then claim second prize with gusto.

Brass's Apartment
6:56 p.m.

When Jim opened his front door and saw Heather dressed conservatively in black slacks, an ivory twin-set and moderately heeled black leather sandals, he did a double take. "Hello there. I'll take the free Bible, but then you'll need to be on your way, because I have a hot date tonight."

"I didn't want to overpower Sara," She explained after a quick laugh. "I want her to be as comfortable as possible."

Jim appreciated the extra effort. "That's very considerate. Thank you." With his keys in hand he closed the door and joined her on the front step.

When he was in front of her, Heather placed her palms on his shoulders and winked. "However, underneath this conventional exterior, it gets substantially more sinful. Does that help?"

"Thank you for that as well." Taking her hand he led the way to his car.

"I have the letter," She told him. "I think it would be best for me to show it to her when you and Gil aren't there. So, maybe you can come up with a reason to get him away from the table towards the beginning of the evening."

Opening the passenger door of his sedan he warned, "We better not return to find the two of you rolling on the floor pulling each other's hair. At one time that was in the top five on Greg Sanders's fantasy list."

"What happened?" She mused while taking a seat.

Before shutting the door he replied, "Greg fell in love with Tawny and out of lust with you after witnessing your Sara-bashing tirade."

Sitting alone in the car waiting for Jim, Heather cringed at the memory of shredding Sara to bits with words in lieu of claws. On this night she vowed that no matter what buttons Sara pushed, she wouldn't get hooked and lash out. No matter what lifestyle judgments she made or derogatory looks she gave…Heather would not retaliate. Not just for Jim's sake either, but for her own dignity.

When Jim slipped behind the wheel Heather glanced over. "I'm starving. I love the calamari at Macaluso's. Yes…I need some calamari and a glass of fine wine."

"I plan on ordering a lot of food." Starting the engine he chuckled. "Because the more we eat the less we'll talk."

Beaver Street Brewery
Flagstaff, Arizona
7:03 p.m.

After her third bite of the decadent chocolate bread pudding dessert she was supposed to be sharing with her fiancé, Carrie moaned, "If I wasn't engaged to marry you…I'd marry this dessert."

Nick had just returned to the table from making a phone call to the tattoo parlor the bartender, who was sporting several tats, recommended. "Good news, bad news." He took a seat and grabbed a fork, ready to indulge in some verboten sugar and white flour.

"We can't get our tattoos tonight?" She was crushed.

"No, ma'am." He halted his explanation for a second bite of the delicious dessert. "They won't do it if you've had alcohol, because it increases the bleeding."

"What about tomorrow after our horseback ride?"

"Well…you're not supposed to expose it to sun or go swimming for a week while it's healing. We have the BBQ on Sunday and the kids will be on my case if I don't take them in the pool and play water volleyball." Laughing he admitted, "Honestly…I don't want to cause a scene with my mom and your dad at the BBQ either."

After another forkful of chocolate heaven she whined, "So what's the good news?"

"The shop owner happens to have some good quality Phoenix Rising temporary tattoos." He filled his fork, loving the treat. "So we can temporarily try it out…which I think is a good idea, considering this is a pretty spontaneous decision and one that's not reversible without leaving a scar."

Smirking, Carrie tapped Nick's fork with hers. "So we can still shock your mom and my dad with them on Sunday."

"Roxie…." He chided her with his tone.

"Do you realize that I'll be thirty-one in December and I've never rebelled against my father's wishes? How pathetic is that?" Giddy like the school girl she was trying to be, Carrie pleaded, "You've helped me fulfill so many fantasies already, what's one more? And you told me how fun it was to tell your dad you registered Independent instead of Republican! There's no way I'm registering Republican to piss off my dad so…"

"Okay. Okay." Groaning, he snatched the last bite of chocolate.

Happy to have her way, Carrie relaxed in the booth. "Hey, Tex…" She wiggled her brows. "For your trouble…you can spank me for being naughty."

"Yeah…I'll get to that right after my mama and your daddy are done kicking my ass."

Tawny's Ford Escape
7:20 p.m.

While Greg drove, Tawny turned in her seat to stare down Hodges. "You better be on your best behavior with my friend tonight. She's a very nice person and she's already had one asshole trample her heart. If you upset her, or insult her in any way…" She narrowed her gaze and sharpened her tone to a lethal edge. "…I'll have Irving kick your ass, am I clear?"

"Crystal." Hodges wondered how a petite woman, looking so feminine in a cute floral skirt and lacy pink top could project pit bull so well. Then he realized it was a job requirement from her old career. "What did the asshole specifically do to her? Not that I'm nosy!" He didn't want to get in trouble. "But…if I know the story, then I'll be less likely to do or say something to offend her. Considering most people think I'm a naturally offensive person, don't you think it's a good idea to give me as much help as possible?"

"He's right," Greg interjected. "About both things…people think he's naturally offensive and you should give him as much help as possible. Side note…how do you guys like this song? It's Stereolab, Margarine Rock."

Tawny blasted her man, "Uh…can we focus here, Chuckles? I was in the middle of telling a tragic story of personal heartbreak."

"Oops." Like a reprimanded school boy, Greg quickly turned off the radio. "Sorry."

Now that she had everyone's attention, Tawny finished the story. "When she lived in LA, Celeste was engaged to this guy for three years. They were totally in love…or so she thought. They planned this elaborate wedding and on the big day, right in the middle of the ceremony, the groom said, I can't do this. I don't love you. I love Claire. I slept with her this morning thinking it would get her out of my system so I could go through with the wedding, but it's not working. I still want her and I'm sorry…but I don't want you." Watching Hodges's eyes she knew the story resonated. When he didn't comment it told her that he didn't remember telling her his similar tale of heartache. He had accidentally spilled the beans when he was a drunken slob by the pool the other night.

"Ouch!" Greg blared. "Oh! That's so harsh! If you do that to me in the middle of our wedding, I guarantee you I will have an aneurism right there from which I will never recover."

"Awww, Sweetie." Tawny patted his knee. "I promise not to leave you for a girl named Claire on our wedding day."

While Greg exchanged smiles with this future wife, Hodges absorbed the information he'd just received regarding Celeste. Tawny had nothing to worry about. He could never be mean to someone who had suffered a fate worse than him. At least Vicki Lynn had the decency to break it off before their wedding day.

Stopped at a red light, Tawny and Greg met to exchange Eskimo kisses.

One look and Hodges grumbled, "Please tell me you're not going to do that once Celeste is here. A blind date is awkward enough…not to mention it's my first date in a decade…but watching the other couple swap spit while you're on you're on a blind date sucks."

"Sorry." Greg backed off. "I can't keep my hands off her. Sometimes I get carried away without thinking."

"Yeah…" Hodges rolled his eyes. "I kind of figured that since she's pregnant."

Gil's Mercedes
7:24 p.m.

While Gil turned over the car keys to the valet Sara asked, "Do you think Jim told Heather I'm pregnant?"

"I don't know." He gripped his wife's hand and mentally prepared himself for the unpredictable night ahead. If all went well he'd ask Sara to dance to top off the successful night. If all went badly, he'd ask her to dance to perk up her spirits. If the night was a disaster, resulting in public humiliation or bodily harm…he'd skip the dancing and get her the hell out of there…or bail her out of jail.

"Are you sure I look okay?" She inquired, anxious that her post-romp hair wasn't quite as nice as the pre-romp version.

"I guess you didn't notice the valet drooling." He squeezed his wife's hand. "You look so stunning. I'm sure people think I've hired you to be on my arm."

The conviction in his voice, along with his words, gave her the boost she needed. "Thank you." With her head a little higher she strolled into the restaurant on her snappily dressed husband's arm. It had been a while since she'd seen him in a jacket and tie and he looked even sexier now that he was getting fit thanks to the new healthy diet, lessons from Irving and the home gym. "Are you sure they don't think I'm paying you?" She whispered in his ear while they waited for the maitre d'. "You look mighty handsome in that black suit, and the colorful tie I bought you really does bring out the blue in your eyes like the saleslady said it would."

A couple of weeks into his 49th year, he couldn't deny the thrill of hearing he was hot in the eyes of his sexy wife who was fourteen years his junior. "Thank you, Darling." He took a moment to kiss Sara's cheek and enjoy the rush.

"Are we going to have to watch the two of you smooch all night?" Brass joked as he held Heather's hand and covered the ten feet of space between them. When he first walked through the door he thought Gil was cheating on Sara. Then he realized it was Sara dressed sexy for the first time ever while Heather looked like she was attending a Bible Study dinner. "Thank you for inviting us out, Sara." He broke the ice, hoping it would be the only broken that evening.

Heather followed immediately. "Yes…I'm grateful for this opportunity to settle things and put the past behind us. It's been a stressful week for all of us, so reducing the tension in our lives will help us all." She couldn't believe she was dressed like a middle-aged Republican when Sara looked sexy as hell.

Sara returned the greeting. "It needed to be done. I was more than happy to be the one to make the move." She couldn't believe Heather was dressed so conservatively. Then Sara figured out that Heather dressed down on purpose because she never expected her to dress up. She took a second to ponder if it was an insult or a considerate move.

Gil smiled cordially in lieu of words. He planned on speaking as little as possible to minimize his risk of getting in trouble.

"Actually, Sara…" Heather smiled warmly as she prepared to set the record straight. "I made the first move back on Monday. I couriered a letter to your home for a seven p.m. delivery but you were at Strip class so, you weren't there to accept it. Then, when I saw you in the locker room that night, you bit my head…I mean… you were tired from having a stressful day in the office so you didn't give me a chance to tell you about it. Immediately after that you exploded and well…there hasn't been a good time to give it to you since because of everything going on at the lab and with Ellie but, I have it with me tonight. I sincerely hope you'll read it and accept my apology for my behavior during our first two meetings." She purposely didn't mention the third meeting, in the gym, because in that scenario, Sara was definitely the aggressor.

"Oh." Sara cleared her throat. "So you were uh…apologizing to me in a letter the same night I ran into you outside the gym and…"

Jim placed his hand on Sara's back. "Let's not do this here in the waiting area. Let's save it for over drinks."

"I can't drink, Jim." Sara smoothed her hand over her belly. "I'm expecting, remember?" She watched for Heather's reaction out of the corner of her eye.

"Congratulations, Sara," Heather enthusiastically replied. "Jim didn't tell me. You'll find the whole experience thrilling I'm sure. I know I did. My daughter has always been the greatest source of joy in my life. Friends and lovers come and go over time, but a child is linked to you forever." She gave Jim's hand a squeeze. "The parent-child relationship is complex and challenging, but wonderfully rewarding too."

Sara glanced over at her husband, someone who fell into the 'lovers who come and go' category and smiled.

Gil thanked the heavens for sending the maitre d' over. "Grissom, party of four," Gil said a little too loudly.

Alberto, a silver-haired gentleman with an impeccable tan, checked his list then smiled. "Right this way."

"I love the calamari here," Both Gil and Heather remarked simultaneously.

Heather was quick to point out, "We've never eaten it here together."

Sara turned, smiling. "I didn't think you did…not that I care what my husband did before we were together." She hoped the point was clear once and for all.

Gil cursed himself for the calamari blurt.

Trying very hard not to laugh, Jim watched Gil tiptoeing on egg shells spread over a mine field. The night was off to a wonderful start.

Nick's Xterra
7:30 p.m.

With a bag of temporary tattoos and a new telescope in the truck, Nick and Carrie pulled out of the strip mall parking lot to return to their hotel.

"This will be good," Nick said as he pulled onto the street. "Now we can be sure about placement before getting the permanent tattoos. We'll put 'em on and see if we like them where we thought we would, and if we don't we can try somewhere else."

Still buzzing from the chocolate dessert Carrie spoke rapidly. "So the plan is we'll go back to the hotel, put on our tattoos, watch a movie and then later, when it's nice and dark out, we'll try out our new toy gazing at the stars."

He couldn't resist the tease. "Did it feel good finally getting a little planning in, Darlin'?"

Covering her mouth she confessed, "It really did."

"Since we're in an organizational mood, let's recap." He turned down the Trace Adkins song playing on the radio. "You got in your dancing, boozing and role-play in at The Rusty Spur. You sang today in Bedrock. So, once we gaze at the stars, you'll have completed your list."

"You hiked today and enjoyed a tacky-roadside attraction." Poking him in the ribs she said, "You've had sex twice. Where in the rules did it say you could do something twice?"

"I'm hoping to up that number before we drive home tomorrow evening." He feigned innocence. "Did I say that out loud? Anyway…you danced twice because you did the two-step and the Bedrock Twist."

Carrie ignored him since he was right. "You'll be watching a movie tonight and tomorrow…" She shuddered. "…you'll ride a horse."

"Don't you mean we'll go horseback riding?" Shooting her a look he said, "Let's review something else. Tonight alone, I've agreed to alter my body for you and intentionally provoke my mother and your father on Sunday. Do I need to remind you that…"

"Yee haw!" She sang out. "I can't wait to giddy up tomorrow!"

"That's much better."

Celeste's Apartment
7:35 p.m.

As they walked through the complex in search of apartment 430, Hodges asked Greg, "I know a 419 is a dead body, what's a 430?"

"Animal bite."

"Well, that's better than a dead body." Hodges adjusted his shirt. "Hopefully she won't have any pets. Especially not non-hypo allergenic dogs, cats or rodents of any kind. Guinea pigs in particular make me break out. Fish are fine and the odds of being bitten by a fish are slim unless she has a tank of piranha. Even then, I'd have to stick my hand in it."

"Dude…" Greg was hoping he'd chill. "I met her…she's not the tank full of piranha type. That's much more Lady Heather."

Laughing at the idea that an apartment number has any correlation to what will happen inside Tawny asked, "My old apartment was 410. What's that?"

"Reckless driver. HA! Maybe there is some truth to the theory." Greg laughed with Tawny about their reckless act and his inability to control himself when in the driver's seat on the couch their first time together. "Thankfully Celeste doesn't live in 421-A…that's the code for Mentally Ill Person."

"There it is!" Tawny pointed. "Okay…let's take a deep breath in, David."

"That sounds really weird," Greg announced upon hearing Hodges being called by his first name. "I don't think I can call you that. It would be like calling Grissom, Gil. Too odd."

Tawny brushed lint off David's new shirt. "Greg did a very nice job picking out this shirt for you." The black shirt with thin vertical stripes in brilliant colorful hues and white made him look much more vibrant than normal.

Greg confessed, "I still feel guilty about breaking his nose so, I bought him a nice shirt."

Unable to contain his curiosity David probed, "How much shirt does a broken nose warrant?"

"Ninety-seven bucks. But I picked it because I liked it, not for the price."

Tawny couldn't resist telling David, "He got me pregnant with twins and bought me two diamond earrings…one for each baby." Elbowing Greg she asked, "How much did that set you back, Sweetie?"

"Almost three grand because they're high grade stones, Princess."

"That's only 30 shirts," David deducted. "That hardly seems worthy of lugging two babies around in your gut for nine months, pushing them out of your…personal area, breast feeding them…" For a moment he stopped to think how lucky those babies would be latching on to those buxom breasts ten times a day. "Uh…oh yeah…changing a gazillion diapers, and putting up with them for the rest of your life."

Greg saw Tawny's panic building. "Hodges…let's try a little less brutal honesty with Celeste." Then turning to Tawny he pecked her lips and said, "Don't worry…I'll be helping with the babies, remember? I can do it all too. Well, except the breast feeding part…and the pushing them out of your personal area…and um…carrying them around for nine months." A nervous laugh tumbled out of his mouth. "I'll change lots of diapers…well, except when I'm at work of course." Choking on the foot inserted deeply in his mouth he coughed hard and yelled, "Hey! Let's not keep poor Celeste waiting. She has to have post-traumatic stood-up disorder after that wedding fiasco." He raced forward and rang the bell. "This is going to be so much fun!"

Author's Notes:

Next Chapter: Getting It Back - Part 11

Posting: Wednesday

Teaser: Exactly who will be seeing stars?

Thanks for leaving a review vsky! I'm glad you're enjoying the roadtrip and looking forward to the dates.

Happy 4th to those who are celebrating. Have a great weekend to everyone!

Maggs