Disclaimer: Up next is the rights for CSI…Do I have 50$? No? 40? Still no…huh. Maybe 20? Okay…still no takers. 10 cents then, final offer? No, okay, Zero it is.
A/N: Well hello! Love the reviews, and thus I love y'all lol. But seriously, thanks. As a some-what author, it's nice to get feedback, so thanks to everyone who takes the time to do it. I know that too often, I'll read a good story, but just find myself too lazy to sign in and leave a review- though I'm trying to do better, really! Also, one or two people thought it un-believable that Sara would be trying to convince herself that her feelings for Greg weren't changing. Just because they're changing does mean they're becoming romantic- it simply means she used to see him as a somewhat annoying and childish CSI, but now she's seeing him as more mature and a friend, etc. But anyways, without further ado, the next chappie!
Dancing With the Law
Chapter Five: In Which Much is Discussed
"We promise according to our hopes, and perform according to our fears." Françoise duc de La Rochefoucauld
"Note to self, thank Greg for convincing me to take the night off," Sara mumbled sleepily to herself upon waking at the very late hour of one o'clock in the afternoon. She had taken a benadryl, giving herself the luxury of almost fourteen hours of sleep. After the lesson she had come home and spent the evening watching some movies, and reading a little Harry Potter, having heard so much about it from Catherine. Lindsey was obsessed with one of the actors, and by default, the books. So just after eleven, she had called into work to let Judy know she would be taking a personal day off, and to tell everyone she was fine, but not to bother her. Then she had turned off her cell phone and un-plugged her house phone, and climbed into bed.
"All right, up and at 'em Sara," she stretched lazily, kicking the covers off.
Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she padded over in her sock-covered feet to her stereo, and turned on the waltz music. Nodding to herself, she went back to her bed and quickly re-made it. Continuing on with her morning routine, she walked over to her closet to grab some clothes to wear later after practice. Feeling in a slightly girly mood, she pulled out some snug, low-cut jeans, and a white satiny tank-top that showed off a couple inches of her stomach. Normally she wouldn't wear it to work, but she was pairing it with a pink and white tweed jacket that had been a gift from Catherine on her birthday. It would be good to have, as even though it was the end of April, it was still fairly chilly in the evenings.
Having her clothes set out, she stripped and hopped in the shower. Climbing out ten minutes later, she pulled on her robe and slippers, and walked into the kitchen to get the coffee maker percolating. As soon as enough for one mug was done, she poured that and after adding a liberal amount of cream, she quickly drank it down before walking back to her room to dress in a long, loose, gray skirt and white cami for dance practice. Pulling some pantyhose on, she pulled on her dance shoes, looking over at her closet with a smile at the garment bag that held her waltz costume. She wouldn't say it to the guys or Catherine, but it was fun to be girly- every now and then, that is.
Walking back into the kitchen, she poured herself another cup of coffee and sipped on it while dancing to the music floating out from her bedroom. She had always liked to listen to music while getting ready for work, so that was nothing new. The waltzing though, was rather difficult, but she found she rather liked it, and found it relaxing. She was looking forward to learning some more steps.
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"Well, you seem to have the basic step down well, so we'll move on to something else," Madame Parajanov gave a tight smile. "Turns."
"To everything, turn, turn, turn," Greg sang under his breath.
"Yes, turning is going to become your everything! Turns are what add character to any dance, which is why you are going to become dizzy with the number I'll be making you do," she smirked. "Arch turns, loop turns, and underarm turns primarily. Now, for the first one."
So she instructed them through each of the turns, making sure to get in several good pokes with her cane any time they went lax in their posture or holds. After making sure they had a firm handle on each of the turns, she also went through progressive movement, which was the basic way to move across the floor when not turning or doing a continuous left box-turn, which is what gives the impression that you're turning in a small circle, while moving around the edge of the dance floor. The wider the box-turn, the further you move.
Feeling tired, but happy to have some new material, Greg and Sara again went to the diner next door for coffee. Sara spent most of the time going over the case they had been working on earlier- a trick roll at the Montecito. She also alternated questioning him about various forensics procedures, with questioning him about various dance procedures. It was good review for both of them. When they were finished, Sara paid this time, and they headed for work.
"Well someone's in a good mood," Nick greeted as she walked into the break room, a small, but content, smile on her face. "Must have been that night off you had."
Yesterday at work everyone had been busy with cases, and hadn't had the chance to instigate her. Something she had been grateful for.
"Shut up Nicky," she gave him a playful glare. "What, am I not allowed to take a night off or something?"
"Of course you are," Warrick interjected. "You just never do. You okay?"
"I'm fine, honest. I was just feeling kind of run down, and decided to take a personal day."
"Well, if you're sure," Nicky looked doubtful.
"She's fine, and I don't just mean fine," Greg came strolling in. "Gotta trust her Nick my boy. If the lady says she's fine, then she is."
"See, at least someone trusts me to know how I'm doing," Sara said pointedly, looking at Nick.
"Whew, is it just me or is it hot in here?" Catherine commented as she entered the room.
"Well of course you're hot," Greg grinned impishly. "But yeah, it does feel a little warm in here. What gives?"
"The air conditioning isn't working," Grissom said absently as he walked in, case slips in hand. "They've got someone coming to fix it within the hour. Now for cases. Warrick you're with Greg, suspicious circs. Sara, you're with Nick on a breaking and entering at an art gallery. Catherine, you can wrap up our case from last night. And if anyone needs me, I'll be doing paperwork."
"Gotcha Boss," Nick grabbed the case slip, and followed Sara out of the room. "I drive!"
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"So how'd your case go?" Greg asked as they began their stretches.
"Oh don't even bring it up," Sara groaned. "The whole night Nicky would not stop bugging me."
Greg couldn't keep an amused grin off his face. "About what?"
"About how happy I seemed or something like that. He kept saying he was sure I had taken the night off to go on a date, and that I had finally gotten laid. And of course, the fact that I was dressed a little more girly than usual was proof of that too," Sara grimaced. "Remind me to never wear pink again."
"Nope. If I get my way, you'll wear it for your rumba costume," he teased. "What is the rumba exactly anyways?"
Sara grabbed their CD and stood up. "Why don't we just worry about finishing the waltz for now, all right?"
"Yeah yeah, I know. Madame Parajanov only wants to take another two weeks to try and wrap this up, and then move onto the rumba. And then eventually the cha-cha. I think that'll be cool don't you?"
"What?"
"All of the teams out on the floor at the same time doing the cha-cha. That's gonna be neat I think."
"Again, let's focus on the waltz," Sara reminded. "Now, closed position, and we'll start with the box step and go into a turn, then progressive movement, then another turn, and then another progressive movement then the last turn, and then finish with the box step."
"Which turn do you want to start with?"
"Surprise me. After all, I should be able to just follow your cues, and let you lead."
"Yeah, and we know how much you like to be in charge," Greg teased, but focused on doing what she had said as she used the remote to start their music.
"Come on Greg, no looking at your feet and no counting the steps out loud," Sara chided. "Remember what Madame Parajanov said? We need to simply hear the music, and let ourselves move with it."
"I know, and I try! But I keep doing it without realising it."
"I see," Sara nodded slightly. "What did you want to be when you were a kid?"
"Huh?"
"I'm helping you keep your mind off of thinking too much about the dance steps. You know them, so do them. Now, what'd you want to grow up and be when you were little."
"Well you remember me telling you about my playing the violin, right?"
"Since you were four, and it got you your scholarship."
"Exactamundo! Well, my mom always said one day I'd be a famous violin player if I worked hard, so I was kinda groomed to think that's what I'd do. Though there was a period where I wanted to go dig up dinosaur bones and build a T-Rex."
"I can still see you doing that," Sara laughed as Greg led her into an underarm turn.
"What about you?"
"Actually, believe it or not, a ballerina," she smiled fondly as she recalled. "When I was little, there was a school assembly and some local company came and put on a little show for us. I was so enthralled by the dancers, and the costumes, and just how fluidly they moved. I was even going to start taking lessons once I turned eight, but then that whole thing with my parents happened, and none of the foster families I stayed with could afford to get me lessons."
"I'm sorry," Greg said softly. He was pleasantly surprised she was being this open about that part of her life with him. Everyone at the lab knew about it, but she never offered any other details.
"It's okay. I eventually got to take some lessons anyways, though at the time I hadn't wanted to. When I was fifteen, I joined the high school football team. Crazy, I know, but I needed some sort of extracurricular activity to add to my college applications. It was the only sport I was decent at playing, not that there were a lot of choices. But I was second string quarter back, and I was actually pretty good. But anyways, to teach us football players a little more grace on the field, they decided we had to take a series of ballet classes to help us become more aware or ourselves."
"Hee hee, I wish I'd seen Nick's face when he found that out."
"He doesn't know. Actually, no one does but you."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. You've got to understand Greg, I'm not one to just voluntarily offer things about my life at work. If I'm being honest, it's probably an issue from living in foster care. You learn to look out for yourself, and yourself alone. You don't tell anyone anything, for fear they'll use it against you somehow."
"I don't understand," he looked at her in confusion. "You say you don't offer stuff up, but you're telling me this all right now."
"Well, I'm supposed to trust you right?" She smiled slightly at his slow nod. "So as part of trusting you, I'm trusting you're not going to use this to tease me or hurt me. And I've been working on trying to open up to you guys more. I mean, Catherine, Nick, and Warrick are all open with everyone, and so are you. Grissom even does, though it usually involves his bugs, but at least he makes the occasional effort. But me, I just haven't done that except for the few times around Grissom, and that was because I had that stupid crush on him."
"Why was it stupid?" Greg asked suddenly, leading her from a loop turn back into the basic box step.
"What, the crush?" Greg nodded in reply to her question. "Because ever since I've known him, I knew he never had those feelings about me. He had made that clear a very long time ago."
"That still doesn't make it stupid though. Crushes, whether or not the feelings are returned, are great. I mean, yeah it does kinda stink if the feelings aren't reciprocated or whatever, but if you have a bunch of crushes, then when you meet Mr. Right, or in my case Mrs. Right, then you know the difference. You can tell whether it's puppy-love, or eternal love. There's a quote, I think it's by Shakespeare-"
"When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," Sara recited for him.
"That's the one! And see, I think that's beautifully honest, whether or not someone'll admit it. You may see your future spouse and not even realise it, but I guarantee, if you ask any happily married couple when they first fell in love with their spouse, they'll tell you it was before they even realised it themselves," Greg gave a happy little sigh.
"You're a romantic at heart, aren't you?" Sara smirked slightly.
"Most definitely."
"Then I guess you believe in soul-mates and all?"
"Yup. I think Richard Bach described them best when he said a soul mate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our trust selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we're pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we're safe in our own paradise. And I think that can apply to all types of soul-mates too."
"Types of soul-mates?"
"Yeah. Of course, most people associate romantic love with soul-mates, but I think there can be different types. The love kind, which I already said, the eternal kind, which is like the relationship that can only be found between two people who have known each other for forever, and my favorite, the friends-kind."
"And what exactly is the friends kind?" Sara asked, curious.
"Well, it's a lot like the love kind, except the people aren't in love. Sometimes you just have a friend who you feel you can be honest with, and safe with, and just be completely yourself, with no walls. In fact, I kinda classify you as my soul-mate," Greg stated shyly, ducking his head to hide the faint color that covered his cheeks.
"Me?" Sara looked at him in astonishment.
"Well, yeah. I mean, at work, you're always patient and willing to explain stuff if I don't know how to do it. And I consider you my best friend in Vegas. I can joke with the guys, but Grissom's kinda intimidating still, and Catherine tries to mother me, but I can talk to you. Like all the stuff we've talked about. I just feel really comfortable telling you, and like you, I know it's not gonna be used to try and hurt me or anything. You're just you, and I like that."
"You're going to make some girl extremely lucky someday," Sara said after a moment, still in awe of the huge compliment he had just paid her. She leaned forward and hugged him quickly. "Thank you."
"Nope, thank you," he gave a goofy smile, which turned into an excited one. "Hey, we've been dancing and turning this entire time, and I haven't thought about my feet once!"
"See, I knew you could do it-" Sara started to say, but was promptly cut off as Greg accidentally tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground, pull Sara down with him.
"I spoke too soon!" He laughed, the got to his feet and gave Sara a hand.
"Oh well," she shook her head. "Great job up until that fiasco. Now, let's do it again, and then we're done for the night."
"Your wish is my command," he bowed before assuming the position yet again.
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A/N: I'm so sorry this took over a week to get up. School's been murder! So I'm kind of on an update-as-I-will schedule. Not always regular, though I do try. This one's a little shorter too I think, just under 3000 words, but it's got a lot of fun/serious dialogue in it, which I hope you all like. My favourite part in particular is the whole little "soul-mates" conversation. I firmly believe that by the way, that there are different types of soul-mates. My best friend is my soul-mate. He and I have never been involved, but we know everything about each other. We've been friends for 13 years, ever since we were 5 years old and in the first grade together. We bonded over a 64 box of crayola crayons. Merlin I love him. Anyways, review please, if you're so inclined. They make me happy :-)