Unscientific Disclaimer:
Based wholly or partly on characters and situations created by Anthony E. Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer, Carol Mendelsohn, Ann Donahue, Alliance Atlantis and CBS Productions and who knows what others. Rated PG: An unauthorized work of speculative fiction with some adult content, brief graphic language, and mature themes. Parental discretion is advised. Do not distribute for profit or without notification to the author. Not to be taken internally. No user serviceable parts inside. Made in the USA. I didn't say you were guilty- the evidence did. Strongest fan fiction available without a prescription. May cause dizziness, dry mouth or nausea. Do not read my fan fiction while driving, drinking or operating heavy machinery.
Author's Note: first/last line challenge from Leslie... –ReverendKilljoy
First- "Stop, that tickles!"
Last- "So what you're saying is that aliens are among us."
Canadian Money
1. The Gentlemen
"Stop, that tickles!"
"Nick?" Warrick looked up from where he'd been helping his friend and partner fasten his cummerbund. Grissom's unexpectedly formal and old-fashioned requirements for his groomsmen had made them both feel pretty annoyed at the time.
But now, seeing themselves in the grey cutaway coats and pinstriped trousers, both men had to admit they looked good. Warrick had even corralled his unruly hair into a ponytail, held back with an antique silver ring. You never know, women at weddings…
Nick was trying to stop giggling as he turned, observing Warrick's handiwork.
"Yeah, what?" He looked at Warrick as they double-checked their ties.
"How did a big, tough good-looking guy like you grow up, being such a girly girl?" Warrick asked him, studiously examining himself in the mirror.
"It wasn't easy, but I managed." Nick grinned. It was a bubbly sort of day, and they were feeling little pain from the previous night's celebrations.
"Speaking of not easy…" Warrick frowned, and shot Nick a look. "Well, I don't mean to step into anything, but I know you and Sara… What I'm saying is…"
"Hey, don't worry." Nick clapped him on the shoulder. "If I'd had a shot, and it hadn't worked out, that might stick with me… but let's face it: her heart was somebody else's before she and I ever met."
"And you're cool with that?" Warrick nodded at his own question. Nick was a good guy. "That's surprisingly mature. You know, from you."
"I told her I care about her, she knows that. So, let's go get the Big Man." They went into the hall to fetch the almost catatonically calm Grissom.
2. The Ladies
"Stop, that tickles!"
Catherine, straightening Sara's garter, looked up at her friend and coworker, all smooth silk and long legs. She remembered the taffeta nightmare that had been her own wedding dress and told her, "You should consider yourself lucky."
"I do. I mean- I never really let myself imagine reaching this place, you know, with him."
"I meant the dress, Sara." She stood.
"Oh." Sara resisted the urge to run her hands through her hair. It felt weird, lifted a bit and gathered at the nape of her neck, but she had to admit Catherine had done an amazing job. She'd never felt like more of a girly girl, yet she still looked like herself.
"Are you okay with this?" she asked Catherine suddenly, with the direct way she had of blurting things out some times.
"What do you mean?" Catherine was looking at her shoes.
"I know you and Gris… I know you two are really close. I never asked if any of this bothers you." She stood, unsure of where to put her hands or where to look.
"Nah, we're not that close. It's a Canadian money thing."
"Okay, time out. A Canadian money thing?" Sara carefully sat down, trying not to wrinkle anything.
"You see, for most of us, well, for any woman in the world really except you, the affection of Gilbert Grissom is like getting a bunch of Canadian money. Sure, it has value, and there's something nice about having it, but you can't really spend it or go anywhere with it." She shrugged. "It's just kind of there."
"But not me?" Sara looked at the time, and started standing back up and straightening again. "Almost time to go."
"Yeah. Here's your bouquet. Hit me with that later and you're a dead woman, by the way. Anyway, when it comes to Gil and the whole Canadian money thing, you're like… like some sort of Canadian, but like a resident alien with a Green Card. Ah, I admit the analogy begins to break down here, so don't push me."
"I'm a resident alien?" Sara laughed, and it brought just the little bit of color to her cheeks that had been lacking. Catherine opened the door, and they heard the music playing.
"Come on, the boys will be waiting," Catherine told her with a grin.
Sara smiled wide as they walked towards the top of the aisle. Just as they reached the top of the aisle and Catherine prepared to walk down opposite Nick, Sara called out to her in a stage whisper.
She knew it would embarrass Catherine just a little, and it would give poor Nicky something to talk about. She made sure her voice carried to them both, but hopefully not to the small crowd in the chapel or the man waiting for her at the altar.
"So what you're saying is that aliens are among us?"
-fin-