Chapter 3
A/N: I'm so happy everyone enjoyed the last chapter; thanks for the reviews! Chapter 4 will probably be up next weekend. Much love to EllipsesBandit and CSINut214 who are awesome betas. They kindly pat me on the head, and say "good job."
Grissom sat at the table filling out the lab's supply forms. Conrad Ecklie reminded him constantly for the past few days to get the papers on the associate lab director's desk. He avoided the pile of folders until his co-workers too, hounded him about running low on their evidence gathering equipment.
As he filled in items the criminalists needed, Grissom periodically caught glances of his fiancé walking back and forth from the living room and the hallway. Sara appeared to be looking for something as she was cursing under her breath and moving couch cushions. Whatever she lost, it was important as he observed her frantic searching. The last time Sara lost an item of meaning, she drove him insane when he tried to help her find it.
Though for a certain reason, that time always brought a smile to his face.
On her fifth trip to the living room, he grew concerned. He rose from his seat, and walked toward her. "Sara, what are you looking for?"
She looked up from her task of searching under the couch. "Sweetie, I can't find my ring," she said, obviously frustrated.
He answered seriously, "Well, did you look down the drain?"
Grissom stood in the kitchen contemplating his options. His decision didn't have anything to do with the food in front of him; it had to do with the ring in his pocket.
A few days ago he was sleeping soundly when the alarm went off. He turned over to rouse the woman next to him. When he gently nudged her shoulder, Sara stirred a little and then opened her brown eyes. She smiled at him; the glowing, wide, gap-toothed grin that was reserved solely for Grissom.
This is how he found himself in front of a jewelry store awaiting the arrival of a certain blonde CSI. It'd taken a lot of courage for him to call Catherine for assistance. Sure, he learned quite a bit about stones and gems from robbery cases, but it was different when it came to choosing a ring for his, hopefully, soon-to-be wife. This couldn't have a purely scientific approach.
"Well I'd never thought I'd see the day where you would be getting engaged," Catherine said as she put her sunglasses on her head.
"I haven't asked her yet."
Catherine snorted, "Yeah, like she's going to say no."
He smiled at that. Even though Catherine didn't always see eye-to-eye with Sara, she made more of an effort when he started dating the brunette. And he was grateful for his friend's support.
"We aren't going to find the ring out here," she told him as she opened the shop's door.
"You're the boss."
She rolled her eyes, and the two entered. He was overwhelmed by the amount of jewelry. There were so many types of bands, not to mention the different sizes and shapes of the gems. How in the world was he going to make the right choice?
Luckily, Catherine took the lead. "The first thing you need to do is pick a metal that will match her skin tone" she said as she steered him away from the cases with the yellow gold.
He examined the platinum rings where she stood. "I take it these will match her skin tone then."
"Exactly. Now you need to decide if you want colored gems or just diamonds."
"Diamonds should be fine." The other rings looked too flashy and gaudy; definitely not for Sara.
A blonde saleswoman, whose nametag read "Brandi," walked to the other side of the case. "Can I help you two find something?"
Before Grissom got a chance to open his mouth, he heard Catherine chime in, "Yes, he's looking for an engagement ring."
"Congratulations sir. Would you like to take a closer look at these rings?" She gestured to one of the cases.
They spent the next 45 minutes going through the store's platinum selection. While Brandi showed them the different pieces, Catherine helped him eliminate the many choices. Ultimately he decided on an oval shaped diamond with four smaller diamonds on either side.
"What size did you need this in?" Brandi asked.
"Size?"
"You don't know Sara's ring size?" Catherine stated, annoyed at his answer.
Sara mostly wore earrings and maybe an occasional bracelet, but seldom did she have a ring on.
"That's not a problem sir; a lot of men don't know ring sizes. If you get the ring too big, it will be easier to resize than if it's too small."
After making his purchase he thanked the saleswoman and him and Catherine left.
"Now all you have to do is the pop the question. What are you going to do? Romantic dinner by candlelight? Rose petals from the door to table where you'll be waiting in a tux?" she teased.
He gave her one of his typical stoic expressions. "Thank you for your help Catherine."
"You're welcome. Who knows what you could've walked out with if I wasn't there?" He offered her a small smile and started toward his car.
She called his name and when he turned around she told him "Congratulations. Sara will love the ring." And with that, she placed the sunglasses over her eyes, and walked away.
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Truthfully he hadn't given a lot of thought to the proposal. He couldn't produce the kind of setting Catherine talked about, even if she was kidding. Plus, it seemed too conventional.
Grissom noticed his pulse rate increasing as he drove home. What kind of proposal did Sara want? What kind of proposal was he capable of? Numerous questions swirled in his brain, and he determined to get it over with right away. Otherwise thinking about the whole process would drive him to distraction.
As he approached the steps of the townhouse he exhaled a few times to calm his nerves. She wouldn't be able to her answer if he stuttered his way through his speech.
"Hey. Where have you been all afternoon?" Sara greeted, from her position on the couch.
"I had an important errand to run." He hoped she didn't notice him wiping his palms on his pants. He moved to sit next to her.
"Important, huh? Did you find some new, hairy bug you want to bring home?"
"No. Sara, I… there's something I want to…we've been together for…" he closed his eyes and breathed in again. Why is this so difficult? How hard is it to say four, simple words? This was worse than when he went to the diner with her to start their relationship.
"Gil, are you all right? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine." Another breath. "I wanted to ask you--" and was promptly cut off by the loud ringing of a cell phone.
"Shoot, that's mine. Hold on a sec." She went over to the kitchen island to answer the call. Grissom cursed under breath and deplored whoever called at this moment.
"That was Brass; swing shift is tapped out and he needs us for a double homicide." She continued to give him details of the case, and he knew the moment was lost. Murder cases hardly put one in a romantic mood.
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The evidence collection and processing had taken an extraordinary amount of time; they didn't get back until 10 o'clock the next morning. Grissom was tired and hungry, and his mind was far from a marriage proposal. Before heading to a blissful day's sleep, he decided to make them breakfast.
Cooking was his favorite indulgence as he could make it his own series of experiments. The recipes, he treated as controls, the standard to how the food should look and taste. And throughout the years, he tweaked the amount of ingredients and sometimes added personal touches. There were some recipes though that didn't require modifications.
One being his mother's waffle recipe. The waffles had been delicious since he could remember. It was also one of the few foods he didn't make in front of Sara because his mother was adamant about keeping the recipe in the family. He wondered if she would change her mind once he got married…
He finished setting the table as Sara came out from the shower. Even though she wore a pair of grey lounge pants and one his old UCLA t-shirts, she still looked beautiful. They sat down and she took a bite of the fluffy concoction. "Mmmm, these so are good. You still haven't told me how you make these."
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because it's my mother's recipe. It's a secret."
"Really?"
"Took me years to get the recipe from her; I had to swear on my ant farm I wouldn't give it to anyone. She made them all the time when I was a kid. "
She started to giggle and Grissom furrowed his eyebrows. "What's so funny?"
She continued to laugh. "I can just picture you as a four-year-old, eating your waffles, and writing a letter to Roy Rogers with a fat, blue crayon."
"And what is so funny about that?" he asked, still confused.
Sara got up to clear the dishes and she came around behind him. She circled her arm around his shoulders and kissed the back of his neck; he felt the familiar tickle of warmth generated by the action. "Absolutely nothing," she answered, and she picked up his dishes and headed to the sink.
"What did your letter say?" she asked as she ran the faucet.
"'Dear Mr. Rogers. Trigger is the greatest horse in the world. What is his favorite food so I can send him some? Your fan, Gilbert Grissom.' And the crayon was brown."
She started to laugh again, and though he didn't understand what she was laughing about, he still enjoyed the sound. He realized he had been thinking far too hard about this.
He climbed from his chair to stand behind her. He looped his arms around her waist and held her to him tightly. Grissom pressed his nose into her hair, and inhaled the citrus scent. He took another deep breath to calm his pounding heart, and whispered in her ear "Would you marry me?"
She froze as if he just asked her if his pet tarantula could sleep in the bed with them. The water was still running. "What did you say?" she asked in a shaky voice.
He chuckled quietly as he reached into his pocket, and pulled out the ring. He held it in front of her, with his other arm still around her, and repeated "Would you marry me?"
It seemed as if hours passed while he waited for her answer. Her body was trembling, and he heard the tears when she spoke very quietly. "Yes I'll marry you."
As he slipped the ring on her finger, he realized the ring matched her skin tone perfectly. The diamonds sparkled almost as brightly as her eyes. This made up for all of the heartache of the past six years.
Relief flooded Grissom when he realized she accepted. His pulse decreased and the muscles in his shoulders loosened. He pulled his hand away to kiss her…
And heard the tink as the ring slipped off her finger and skated down the drain.
A silent moment of disbelief before Sara uttered an exceptionally loud "Shit!" She immediately shut off the water and plunged her hand down the drain.
Grissom watched, amused, knowing he made the right decision.
They spent the next 3 hours learning elementary plumbing.
"Well, did you look down the drain?"
The next thing he felt was a thump as a throw pillow connected with his head.