Author's Notes: Okay, I've thought of a way I'll do this, so let's get on with it. Sorry if the writing's a bit off, I'm kind of trying to watch Monk as I write. Hehe, yeah.
CSI:
- Party Fever
Epilogue - A Picture's Worth . . .
Sara sighed, falling cross-legged into the small space she'd cleared out among the boxes and papers and old tax forms. She surveyed the mess stonily, If I don't do it now I'll never finish.
She seized the nearest clump of papers and cardstock determinedly, taking them into her lap and thumbing through them. There were all sorts of Hallmark cards from every occasion imaginable, old parking tickets long-since paid and forgotten, letters from esteemed scientist regarding this case or that research . . .
She grinned as her gaze fell on the next item in the seemingly endless stack, a photograph of a rather worn-looking entomologist sprawled across the floor with a confused toddler sitting next to him, about to swing at him with a small plastic hammer.
"I'm getting too old for this, Sara," Gil Grissom groaned, staring at the ceiling, seemingly unfazed by the repeated strikes of the small boy sitting beside him, giggling up a storm.
"Come on, kid," Sara scooped the two-year-old into her arms, "Daddy's too old for fun."
Setting the photo aside she sifted through a few more receipts and notes before breaking into another wide grin as she looked upon another photograph. The smile she wore was almost as huge as the one a Sara Sidle many years younger wore in the photo, dressed in a beautiful crimson dress and turning up her skirt to reveal a garter the color of blood. Not to be outdone, a rather tipsy-looking Greg Sanders stood laughing beside her holding an empty champagne glass in one hand and hiking up his pants with the other to show and equally blood-red garter.
Sara shook her head down at the photo, "Oh, Greg," she laughed loudly before pushing herself up and grabbing an empty frame from the box, "That one's getting framed."
She pushed the photo behind the pane of glass and walked into the sprawling living room. Her smile persisted as she looked upon the photos already set up on the mantle; Gil Grissom running awkwardly with his hand on the seat of a bicycle attempting to keep his son atop it while the boy half-giggled and half-screamed; a brilliant picture of their wedding day, Sara's face framed by a veil tossed slightly askew when she'd pressed her lips to Gil's in preparation for the photo; a group-shot of the night-crew of the Las Vegas crime lab taken the night they were named the top crime lab in the country; and now a picture of Sara and Greg . . . with the exact same garter.
"Gill'll get a kick out of this," Sara laughed as she set the photo up and returned to her task with thoughts of a joyous evening and an elegant danced she'd danced so many times since.
Author's Notes: Haha, BEHOLD! I hath finally updated! I apologize for the slow update and for the short chapter, but I felt it was the best way to wrap it up. Hope you enjoyed it.
