Disclaimer – See Chapter One.

Author's Note: This chapter takes place around 'Formalities' in season 5, but not much is similar except that Ecklie still gets promoted...

Chapter Three – Formalities

Grissom was nervous. Not just the regular impending doom kind of nervous. This was real, full-blown - Sara's going to kill me, isn't she? - nerves. The brief conversation she has graced him with when he had called her cell had said it all.

'Hey, Sara,' he had started, before being immediately cut off by her uncharacteristically stern tone.

'Oh, so now you've decided to call and ask me to this ball thing? 5 hours before it's due to start!'

He considered it no small miracle that she had agreed to go.

'Fine. Whatever. I'll see what I have hanging in the back of my closet.'

And with a click as icy as her voice, she had hung up on him.

Now he stood staring at her front door, his brain somehow unable to send a message to his hand to knock the door. Yep, she was going to kill him. Finally, he decided to be a man and face the consequences of his cowardice. He knocked.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door slowly opened. And standing before him was nothing less than a goddess.

Draped in rich burgundy silk that caressed the gentle curves of her body and fell barely an inch short of the ground, Sara looked more elegant than he had ever seen her. The warm color of the dress made her brown hair and eyes even richer looking, and in her eyes shone not anger, but amusement.

Sara took in the conflicting emotions coming from the man before her. The scent of fear permeated the air around him. As did apprehension. Good. She had wanted him to suffer for just a little while before she let him off the hook. But, as he looked at her now, his mouth just ever so slightly open, she detected increasing awe, desire and just the faintest hint of lust.

Catherine was right. This most certainly was the dress.

When they had walked into the fifth dress shop that afternoon, Sara had been cynical. They were never going find something she liked. Everything was too slutty, too gaudy, too ridiculous. She, she kept reminding Catherine, was not an exotic dancer. She didn't wear sequins, or low-cut, or high slits, or dresses that plunged so low in the back that underwear could not be worn.

Catherine kept insisting that they would find something. Something elegant yet sexy. Tasteful yet not too modest. Something that accentuated all of Sara's attributes. Something that 'stopped just short of giving Gil a heart attack,' Catherine had said when she had found the dress. And, to her surprise, Sara had loved it.

And so, it appeared, did Grissom.

After several moments of staring, he finally found his voice. 'You had that dress hanging in the back of your closet?'

'Hell no,' she replied with a smirk. 'I just bought it today. Why? Do you like it?' Still smirking, she turned around, giving him the full show.

'You hung up on me and went shopping?'

'No, silly. I was shopping when you called. With Cath.'

The penny dropped.

'So you already knew…'

'Yeah.'

'And you weren't really mad.'

She cocked an eyebrow at him. 'I wouldn't go that far. I consider this a huge favor to you. And I fully expect you to pay me back. Tonight. In full.' Her smirk was both playful and seductive. "Preferably with interest."

Grissom grinned. 'I think that can be arranged. You ready to go?'

'Almost. I just need to grab my purse.'

She turned and went back into the apartment and he followed, enjoying the view. As she came back from the bedroom with her purse and a simple black chiffon shawl draped over her shoulders, he noticed a red blinking light coming from her answer machine.

'Hey. You want to check your messages before we go?'

She followed his line of vision. 'Oh, I didn't even notice. No, it can wait. If it were important, they would have gotten me on my cell. Let's go.'

As much as both Sara and Grissom claimed to hate social events, if anyone had been watching them that evening, they would have sworn that the couple was having a good time. And, that evening, a lot of people were watching them.

Catherine nodded approvingly across the room and Sara beamed back. The woman had been like a gift that day, not only helping Sara pick the dress, but booking them both in for a manicure, pedicure and an appointment at the hair stylist. It had been a long time since Sara felt this pampered and polished. And from the looks Grissom kept giving her, he more than approved.

They purposefully avoided long chats with other guests, merely traded pleasantries on their way to a secluded corner of the ballroom. Neither was particularly interested in the politics of the lab or the sheriff's department, and they certainly weren't interested in being not so subtly grilled about their new relationship. So they sat alone in their corner, talking quietly, smiling broadly, enjoying the freedom which their relationship now being public afforded them.

'Well you kids look like you're having fun.'

Two pairs of eyes, one amused, one annoyed, looked up to see Jim Brass standing beside their table.

'Mind if I join you for a minute? I'm trying to avoid the Sheriff.'

'Aren't we all,' Sara dead-paned, gesturing for Brass to sit down.

'I didn't think this was your sort of event, Jim,' Grissom remarked, his annoyed expression relaxing now that Sara had scooted round the table closer to him.

'Free buffet, free bar, my night off – what's not to love? Now you I didn't expect to see here.'

Grissom made a sour face. 'Cavallo asked me to say a few words.'

Brass chuckled. 'Oh yeah. The big speech. I knew there was another reason for coming other than the food.'

Just then, Catherine joined them. 'Got your speech ready?'

Grissom nodded towards the cocktail napkin folded before him and she picked it up.

'What can I say about Conrad Ecklie?' she flipped it over, again and again, as if more words would suddenly materialize. 'Is that it?'

Grissom shrugged. 'I figured I'd wing it.'

Catherine raised her eyes to heaven and followed it with a pleading glance towards Sara, who shrugged, looking more than a little amused.

Grissom accepted the extended napkin from his colleague and smiled. 'But hey, Cath, if you think you can come up with something better, you're more than welcome to take my place up there.'

Catherine smirked at him. 'Yeah. That's going to happen. Come on Jim. Let's go check out the buffet.'

Jim grinned at them as he got to his feet. 'You kids behave yourselves while we're gone.'

'When do you have to give this speech?' Sara asked him.

He glanced at his watch and then at her. 'Ten minutes or so.'

'Don't you think you'd better plan what to say?'

'I'll say what's expected of me. That Ecklie's a great guy, good for the lab, I'm happy he's my boss.' The words sounded like they were sticking in his throat.

'So you're going to lie in other words.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You want me to get up there and say that Conrad Ecklie couldn't find his ass with both hands, much less run a crime lab?'

She let out a low, throaty laugh. 'You're right. The first version is better.'

Sara wasn't sure if she had ever seen Grissom so uncomfortable, including the time she had invited him to dinner and he had turned her down. He hid it well, but as he rose from their table to give his speech, the look in his eyes said it all.

However, he rose to the occasion magnificently. He kept it short and cordial; speaking of the 15 or so years he had worked alongside Conrad Ecklie, of the man's dedication to the lab and of how deserving he was of promotion. Sara doubted that anyone in the room but herself, and perhaps Catherine and Brass, could guess that it was all forced.

The look on his face when he returned to the table was that of sheer relief and it drew another laugh from Sara.

'You look like a man in need of a drink.'

He swallowed and nodded gratefully and she rose from the table as Catherine and Jim returned. When she came back with the drinks, the trio were laughing, telling anecdotes about the real Ecklie - the one that Cavallo and the Sheriff seemed oblivious to.

After a while, music began to play louder and couples migrated to the dance floor. Grissom caught her eye.

'Would you like to dance?'

She laughed nervously. 'Um… I don't really… dance.'

He held out his hand patiently. 'Come on. It's a piece of cake.'

It was the oddest sensation in the world, slow dancing in the middle of a crowded room with Gil Grissom. Despite the fact she could feel the cool gaze of eyes such as Ecklie's watching them, after mere moments she felt as though they were the only two people in the room. The evening was going perfectly.

Of course, Sara should have known that it wouldn't last…

Grissom had gone to the bar with Brass and Catherine was chatting to an assistant district attorney that she found fairly attractive, when Ecklie approached.

'Having fun?'

Sara fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead smiled up at the new lab Director. 'Yes. You?'

'It's been quite an evening. Grissom's speech… brought a tear to the eye.'

Her smile froze into a sneer before she could stop it. 'I'm sure.'

'So how are things going? Between the two of you.'

He saw the anger flash in her eyes before she reined it back in. Smiling smugly, he waited for a reply.

As politely as she could, she told him, 'That's none of your business.'

'I'm afraid it is, Sara.' She hated the way he said her name. 'As Director of the Lab, I have to guard against any staffing problems that might occur… any inappropriate behavior.'

'We have abided by all regulations to the letter and there has been no inappropriate behavior.'

He smirked. 'Well, we'll see how it goes, shall we? I'm just looking out for you Sara. I wouldn't want you to harm your career. And we all know Grissom. His career is more important than anything to him.'

Sara could say nothing, fury rising like bile in her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Grissom on his way back to the table.

'Well, I'd better go mingle. Take care, Sara.'

The double meaning was obvious in his tone. He smirked at her one last time and turned away, nodding at Grissom on his way. 'Grissom. Nice speech.'

'Conrad,' was the terse reply. Grissom sat down and looked to Sara for an explanation. 'What did he want?'

'Nothing,' she forced a smile. 'Small talk.' The thought of telling him about Ecklie's veiled threats was unthinkable at the moment. He'd either lose his temper and cause a scene, or become sullen and quiet. She would tell him later.

Grissom could tell something was wrong, but Sara clearly had no intention of telling him what. She was putting on a good show of having fun, smiling and laughing at all the appropriate moments during Jim's jokes. But the smile did not quite reach her brown eyes. When he suggested they leave a short while later, she did a poor job of hiding her relief.

Sara was quiet the whole way home, and when they entered her apartment, Grissom could no longer prevent himself from asking. 'Sara. What's wrong?'

She went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. The time she took unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink an obvious stalling tactic.

'Have I done something?'

Her eyes went wide. 'No. No, it's not you. I'm sorry; I just don't know how to tell you with out you getting really pissed off.'

'Come here.'

She moved towards him and he led her to the couch, sitting her down and taking her hand. 'Just tell me.'

'It's just something Ecklie said,' she began as the phone started to ring. Leaving her answer machine to pick up the call, she went on. 'He was making snide comments about our relationship, and…'

Anything she was about to say was forgotten as the person on the other end of the phone began to speak.

'Sara? Honey… You didn't call me back and I… I don't know if it's because you don't want to talk to me or what, but… please. Please Sara. I need to talk to you… Please. Call me when you get this. There's something important… well… I need to talk to you.'

Sara's eyes were frozen in shock, barely able to hold back the tears that had sprung up unbidden. Grissom's fingers turned white as the hand she still held was clutched with increasing but unconscious ferocity.

'Sara?' he asked, frightened by the fear her saw in her eyes. 'Who was that?'

She couldn't speak for a long time, and when her voice came it was soft and pained, almost child-like in its delivery. 'My Mother.'

TBC.