Chapter Three

Catherine popped up in front of Sara in the breakroom a few days later, nearly giving the younger woman a heart attack.

"What the hell, Cath?" gasped Sara, gathering up the papers that had gone flying when she had jumped.

Catherine smiled apologetically. "Sorry, trying to catch you before you left. You know what next week is, right?"

Sara arched her eyebrow. She nearly blurted out, "Griss's birthday! Duh!", but thought better of it. "Um, let's see," she said instead. "Today's the 9th, right? Lindsey's birthday was two months ago. Nobody's been promoted. It's the middle of August. Mm.. oh! Grissom's birthday?"

"Duh," replied Catherine. "Normally we do cake here, right, but I figured, 55 is kind of a major day! So I thought we could all get gussied up before shift on the 17th for drinks someplace nice. And fancy dessert, like.. cheesecake. Or something. I don't know." She shrugged and made a silly face, reddish blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders.

Sara laughed a little. "Sounds nice," she said. She hadn't been somewhere nice in months. Years, maybe. Certainly not since James had passed. "So, dress up, presents, pay for our own drinks but you'll pay for Grissom's as usual.. am I missing anything?"

"Sara Sidle, you really are pretty sharp. 7:00 at The Palms on the 17th, of course."

"I will be there." Now- what to wear? And .. present? 8 days wasn't long enough!

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Sara dithered around the upscale clothing store nervously. She had never liked shopping. What she liked even less was the fact she was getting all worked up over Grissom's party. She had found a present okay, a new entomology book she was pretty sure he didn't have yet. Still, she was wondering whether to write a message inside it, besides the card she'd gotten, which was hopelessly bland. It just had a smiley face with a party hat on and the words "Happy Birthday, Boss!" on the front. Inside she had scribbled, "Happy 55th Birthday, Grissom.. Have a good one! -Sara." She wanted very much to keep it to the point and sharp.

But she had nothing to wear out for a nice night. Half of her just wanted her to grab something prim, proper. The usual fancy-dress Sara-garb. But the other half urged her to get a little crazy --she wasn't getting any younger, after all-- and she figured it would be a good way to gauge Grissom's current feelings for her. Whatever his first, instant reaction was, she thought would be a good indicator, no matter how cool and collected he was afterwards.

"Miss?"

Sara whirled around to face a store employee, and was secretly a little pleased at the title of "miss". Everyone always said to her they could never believe she was in her 40s. Most insisted she couldn't be over 36. She always brushed the compliments off --("I hope you don't mean dog years." etc.)-- but was also always secretly pleased.

"Yes?"

"Were you looking for anything in particular? Can I help you at all?"

"Oh, my friends and I were just going out for drinks at The Palm in a few days and I really have nothing to wear. ... Not even shoes," Sara admitted.

"Well, I can help with that," the younger woman said confidently.

Sara tried on dress after dress, but nothing seemed just right. One would be way too tight, one too loose, one a bad colour on her, etc. Finally, she tried on a pale, peach-coloured silky halter dress. The top part was low-cut but not at all scandalous, and the actual halter part was just thin peachy ribbon. It dipped elegantly in the back and was ruffled a little at the bottom, which fell midway between her knees and her ankles. The woman ("Stacie", read her nametag) quickly brought out matching peach high heels. They were gorgeous and strappy, but not too much height on them (about an inch and a half) as Sara was already plenty tall.

The finishing touches were a hairclip covered with tiny peach flowers, which, when Sara twisted her hair just so on both sides, were very pretty, as well as a small (slightly paler than her dress, more similar to her shoes, which were also a few shades lighter) clutch.

"Lovely," pronounced Stacie. Sara turned to face herself in the mirror. She was startled at how nice she looked. For one thing, she reflected with amusement, it was a lot of peach but it worked for her. For another thing, her kids would never recognize her. That thought made her grin.

"With the right makeup, you'll knock your friends out," added Stacie with a smile.

"Thank you for your help," sighed Sara gratefully as she paid, squinching her eyes shut briefly at the price. But hey, when was the last time she'd pampered herself?

She bought an at-home facial kit as she picked up a few groceries at the little market by her apartment building. She figured she'd go all out, right?

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"Eeeeee!"

"Gracie? What's wrong, hon?"

"Mama, your face! Green!" The tiny girl gaped at her mother, who resisted the urge to smack herself in the forehead.

"Oh, honey, it's okay. It's just special cream for my face. It's a funny colour, huh?"

Gracie nodded, now more relaxed.

"MISTER, I'LL MAKE A MAN OUT OF YOOOUUU!" shouted Josh as he skipped by.

"Josh, no yelling in the house."

"Mama," her son replied in almost a scolding voice, "I'm singing."

Sara arched an eyebrow.

"I am, Mama! It's a Mulan song."

Sara rolled her eyes but smiled. "Well, baby, don't shout it."

Josh sighed, fully exasperated with his mother's silliness. "Fiiiiiiine." He went into the living room, still humming.

Sara could only laugh as soon as he was out of earshot. Both Josh and Grace were characters, all right. She went into the bathroom and rinsed off her face. She quickly swiped foundation on, and then applied a hint of glimmery nude eyeshadow, mascara and lipgloss.

"MAAAMAAA!" she heard Grace shriek.

"Whaat, hon, what is it?" she asked, darting out of the bathroom and into the living room.

"Joshy won' share his cars," she said, pouting.

"Joshua, you have so many cars, can't you let Gracie borrow a few?" Sara pleaded. She needed to finish getting ready, she was carpooling with Catherine and Warrick soon. Just then, to her luck, she heard Catherine's mother let herself in to look after the children.

"Nana!" squealed the duo, cars forgotten. They rarely saw their paternal grandparents, as they lived all the way over in Washington D.C., and they had only communicated with Sara's mother a few times before, via telephone. So Catherine's mother was the closest thing they had to a grandmother, and Nana was glad to act like one. She was really very fond of the little ones.

"Hello, my dears," chirped Nana. "I brought along a video we can watch!" She pulled a Winnie The Pooh DVD from her bag.

Grace and Josh's eyes lit up and they threw their little arms around Nana before skipping into the living room to wait for their movie.

"Thanks again, Nana," said Sara gratefully, putting in small diamond studs James had given her for her birthday years ago and pulling on her shoes.

"Well, I'm listening for them every night as it is, Sara dear," soothed Nana. "It's nice to spend some awake time with the little monkeys."

Sara nodded and grinned and went out into the hall to find Cath and Warrick. They were conversing softly by the elevator, Warrick almost hunched over to hear her whispers better. Sara smiled at the couple. She wasn't sure if they'd ever be married --they didn't really want kids, and didn't see the real benefits of a wedding just to have an official committed relationship, as they were already living together-- but she was happy for them all the same.

Warrick saw her first. "Daaaaamn, Sara!" he exclaimed, jolting Catherine by the sudden loudness of his voice and sending her whirling around. Catherine wore a simple, low-cut dark blue dress with matching heels and purse. Warrick wore a nice suit. Sara breathed a soft sigh of relief; she hadn't overdressed after all.

Catherine gave her a once-over and smiled. "You do clean up nice," she said, not unkindly, with a little smirk. Sara smiled in return.

"Well," said Warrick mischeviously, linking arms with both women, "check me out with my two best girls!" The two girls in question laughed before whispering almost simultaneously in his ears "best women", getting a laugh from the man.

They were the first to arrive at The Palms and settled into a small corner of the lounge. Sara ordered a grey goose martini, Warrick just went for scotch on the rocks, and Catherine got a Cosmopolitan. They spotted Nick and Greg at the door and waved them over. The younger men added their offerings to the little present pile and ordered drinks too.

Cheerful, light conversation was tossed around for a solid ten minutes until they spotted Grissom approaching.

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Grissom faltered as he spotted Sara and their friends. She looked beautiful, and most importantly, happy. He truly hoped she was healing after James's death. To him it seemed that she was.

He drew a sharp breath and then continued his casual stroll to their table. "Hey everyone," he said nonchalantly. "I'm not late, am I?"

"Not really," chirped Catherine, missing Sara's careful gaze at Grissom.

Grissom ordered a martini --shaken, not stirred, no olive-- and said amiably, "So.. presents?"

They all grinned and passed theirs forward.

Grissom picked up Catherine and Warrick's first and shook it lightly. He unwrapped the newspaper that covered it --"We were in a rush," defended the blonde-- and found a mix CD with all of his favourite classical pieces.

"Thank you, you two," he said genuinely, patting Catherine's hand and nodding at Warrick.

Nick gave him an expensive pair of Oakley sunglasses.

"Wooow," breathed Catherine as Warrick nodded, impressed. Greg flashed a thumbs up, but Grissom seemed as oblivious as Sara as to how nice the sunglasses were.

"Thanks Nick, mine were getting kind of old, huh?" He put them back in the case.

Catherine raised her eyebrow. "Griss.. you realize.. that those are really, really nice sunglasses, right?"

Grissom paused, and then gave a short nod. "Sure. Thanks again, Nicky," he said, just as calm and cheerfully as before. Catherine just rolled her eyes.

Greg passed his over next. It was a small box. "I was going to get you a really great CD, but Cath and Warrick beat me to it," said the younger man in his trademark energetic manner.

Grissom opened it. Inside lay two tickets to a baseball game in L.A. "Wow, Greg... thank you!"

"Yeah, I figured you could make it a road trip, ya know.. bring a friend, or.. whatever." Everyone cast Sara a quick glance simultaneously, and she glared at them over the top of her glass.

"Sure, sounds great."

Sara swallowed a big gulp of her drink before she took a deep breath and passed her gift to Grissom.

He gazed at her for a moment before she turned pink and said, "I, I, uh, I hope you like it," and looked away. God! Why was she stuttering? She usually only stuttered on dates, and this was by far not a date. Besides. She didn't want to date him, she reminded herself. Really.

He unwrapped the simple blue paper carefully. He smiled when he saw "A Study in Entomology" on the cover --only Sara would know that was what he would really want-- and smiled at the card, as cheesy as it was. He opened the cover.

Grissom-

I saw this book and, naturally, thought of you. I hope you have a wonderful birthday and more to come, and that you enjoy this book. I have a copy, too, and found it quite interesting. Here's hoping you don't have it, too!

-Sara

It was so simple, so Sara, that it just warmed him. And to think that she thought of him at all! It sent chills up his spine.

"Sara.." he finally managed to spit out. "It's so wonderful. Thank you."

She was still a rosy pink. "Uh, n-no problem," she stammered shyly. This was driving her insane. Why did this man make her so nervous and so comfortable all at once? She hated it.

"Anybody up for another round?" Greg blurted into the tense silence.

"Actually, I should probably go.. shift starts in a couple hours and I want to see Josh and Grace before they go to bed. Sorry to leave so soon," Sara said awkwardly. Everyone mumbled goodbyes.

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Sara climbed into her car and rested her head on the steering wheel. She recalled a lyric from some pop song she had recently heard.. "Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?" That rang very true right now. She tried to recall a time in her life when she hadn't been just going, going, going, 24/7, and couldn't. Maybe she needed to take some time off.

She started the car and pulled onto the road. Thoughts were swirling around in her head. As she crossed an intersection, she was looking to the side and didn't see the truck as it pulled into her side of the street and, before it could pass the car in front of it and return to the right side of the street, came screeching into her head-on. She did, however, feel the weight of the truck and the excruciating pain as she felt bones in her legs breaking, before she blacked out...