I really dislike the fact that it took me so long to update. I'm sorry and thanks for still hanging with me.
Thanks to Laura Katharine for the beta. This cracks me up, I tell ya!
"Crazy. I was crazy once," Grissom defended. Stalling for time, he picked up his glass of wine and searched the depths of his memory for a nice, neat, non-embarrassing story to tell.
He had been pleasantly surprised at her appearance when he picked her up that evening. They never discussed where they were going and if he had been in his right mind when asking her out, he would have asked her preference. So when Sara opened the door, revealing herself in her standard jeans and top, Grissom gave himself a mental pat on the back for doing the same.
It was a mutual decision to eat at the popular Italian chain restaurant on Sahara Avenue; Italian being the safest choice to please both the vegetarian and the carnivore. Grissom toyed with the thought of proper wining and dining, but quickly realized that the less stress and importance he put on this evening, the better. In the end, if things didn't proceed in the manner of which he dreamed, he could say that they at least had a wonderful dinner out as friends.
Sara was getting impatient waiting for his answer, he knew, but their conversation had oddly turned into an 'anything you can do, I can do better' argument. When she had doubted he'd ever done anything crazy in his life, he actually felt mildly insulted. He'd done plenty of crazy things – if only she had known him in college. It was a well-guarded secret. Sure he was the serious student, but he was also an eighteen year old boy on his own for the first time.
The first thing that came to mind was the time he was sure Suanne Lennon was about to break-up with him. It was after the fourth time he missed a date because he was collecting what she called his real girlfriends. His bugs. Not wanting to lose his first girl, and blinded by what he thought was love, he did, in his opinion, one of the most ridiculous things ever. After quickly downing two Budweisers to steel his nerve, Grissom had kneeled down in front of her dorm and began singing 'You Are the Sunshine of My Life'. The other girls either laughed or whistled, but it was worth suffering the humiliation of singing his girlfriend's favorite song. That night Suanne took his virginity.
For some reason, he thought Sara wouldn't appreciate that story. Not because of his sexual history, neither of them were virgins, but because she would then know the truth. That he was capable of romantic gestures. That he could, and had, made declarations of love. He had taken a risk and it paid off. That bit of knowledge, he suspected, would upset her, and probably make her a little angry. It sure made him angry. Where did that eighteen year old go?
Raising her wine glass, Sara hid her smile behind the rim and kept her eyes on the empty plate in front of her. "I'm dangerously close to humming the Jeopardy theme, Griss. Get on with it."
"There are just too many to choose from, I'm thinking."
"You are so full of it."
"Okay," he said, leaning back and depositing his napkin on the table. "I've got one. It was my Art History exam."
"You took Art History?"
"I did – don't deter me. Our exam was divided in two parts. The written portion wasn't the problem, it was the practical part that had the class up in arms."
"I didn't know you had to draw for art history."
"You don't... usually. We were told to use our imaginations and incorporate our project with one of the themes from that semester. I can't draw a straight line, Sara, that's why I took history, and apparently there were other students with the same predicament."
"Oh no. What did you guys do?"
"Well, the night before our exam we broke into the art building -"
Shaking her head disbelievingly, she raised her hand to halt his explanation. "Wait a minute. Are you about to tell me that you were involved in a prank?"
"Is that so hard to believe?" He tried to look offended, he really did, but the incredulous look Sara tossed his way ruined any chance of keeping his game face.
"Yes! Oh man, go on – I'm listening."
"Deciding that the only thing we could do well was abstract, we, uh ... we turned the room upside down."
"You trashed the art room?"
"No, we literally turned the room upside down," he repeated, making a swirly motion with his forefinger. "The tables, chairs, her easels – all of them were upside down on the ceiling in an exact replica of the room. We even glued her inbox and stapler on her desk. Oh, and an apple."
"How did you guys do that?"
"High ceilings and rafters. It was all suspension, really. One of my classmates had a roommate who was a physics major. He helped us calculate weight and counter balance ..." he trailed off, noticing Sara's unsuccessful attempt at containing her laughter. "What?"
"Nothing. Nothing. This is just, uh ... not what I was expecting."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Not at all," she replied with the sweetest smile he'd seen in a long time.
The check had been paid and the waitress tipped. It was a pleasant evening with smiles and laughter and ... everything. Everything that he had missed about her over the years. Grissom knew that evenings like this were something he could get used to quite easily - even now, sitting here in the parking lot of her complex, he knew.
"I don't know what we're doing," Sara stated, breaking the silence with the subject both were avoiding during dinner.
"I don't either."
"I love Jason."
For some reason that didn't hurt him as much as it would have months ago, but it still left a slight sting of discouragement. "I know."
"I also love you. You know that, right?"
"Knowing it and actually hearing it ..." he shook his head in silent awe. "Say it again."
"I love you," she released in a rushed whisper. "I feel like I'm cheating."
"I'm sorry."
"This is all screwed up, Griss. When I first started dating Jason, I fought it. I knew that it was time, you know, to start dating again. But that didn't mean it was really what I wanted. We had a handful of dates and ... they were awkward. It was hard – the communicating – but he ... His translator came with us the first couple of times - until we found a way to communicate that we were comfortable with. I knew to look into his eyes and direct my attention toward him. It was either the third or fourth date when I realized something."
"What was that?"
"That I haven't looked into another man's eyes in a really long time. It made me sad and maybe just a little relieved. I just never thought that anyone's eyes could ever give me what your did. A weight was lifted. I didn't think I was able to move on from you, but I knew then that I could."
"Well, what's different about now?" Needing something to hold on to, he placed his hands on the top of the steering wheel. He wondered what she would say or do if he started up the car right now and drove off with her.
"You. I've learned more about you these past few weeks than I have since the day we met. You've been more open – God, you're helping me with Jason. I don't know if I could have done that."
"I think that you would surprise yourself," Grissom replied and leaned forward to rest his chin over his hands. He really didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew that looking at her right now would be near to impossible.
"When he asked me to marry him, I knew how absolute my decision was. I still loved you, but, no matter how much I wanted it, a future with you wasn't an option. I was ready to live a new life – ready to be loved."
He closed his eyes at her admission. He gave her a chance to choose and her decision hurt the second time as much as it did the first. "Then why are we here?"
"Because you asked me to dinner," she replied with a lightness that contradicted the weight of the air around them. It was forced, and if Grissom had been looking at her, he would have noticed her smile was equally so. "And because in a couple of days I'll see Jason again and it's quite possible we'll get back together. If I marry him, Grissom, then that means that you and I are done. Forever. I know that's what marriage means and I understood that then, but now ..." she paused, waiting for him to look at her. When he didn't, she reached over and settled her hand on the nape of his neck - lightly at first, but then applied slight pressure and squeezed. "I didn't know that I was going to fall in love with you again."
Her touch was almost too much for him to bear. She had a hold of his neck in a possessive manner and the idea of her owning him ... he wanted that – he wanted that so much. When she loosened her grip and trailed her fingers around to his jawline, he turned his head to get a look at her. "I don't know what to do," she whispered, her fingers in constant motion over his beard.
He knew what to do. About this. About them. But it had to be her decision. "'The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn.' You'll do whatever is best for you, and nothing less."
She smiled through her smirk and even though he knew he gave her no answers, she was still pleased by his comment. "How did I know you were going to quote?"
His gaze grew wistful as he recalled his dream – maybe it could come true. "You just knew," he replied lovingly.
Resisting the pull was futile, and knowing she was meeting him halfway – he would never turn away from her. They stopped just short of touching when she placed her fingers over his chin, signaling him to stop. Her breath was warm and sweet across his face and even with the close proximity, he could tell she was looking at his lips. This was wrong. The timing was wrong, but he didn't care.
"This isn't going to help things," she whispered, looking into his eyes. She didn't pull away. In fact, her thumb slid across his bottom lip in a way that made his own breath hitch.
"I know." He was afraid to touch her; afraid to ruin this moment, but finally his hands rose and gently pushed the hair away from her face. He wanted to see her face; he wanted to see as much of her as he could.
She kept her eyes on his and nodded absently. He didn't know if it was a nod of permission or if it was her answer to some inner struggle, she probably didn't even know she did it. They were going to kiss, he knew. They were going to kiss and her dilemma would still be there when they pulled apart, but he wasn't going to let that fact ruin their moment of living fantasy. He wasn't sorry and he wasn't going to be, and from the look in Sara's eyes, he knew that she felt the same.
It was a light brushing at first. Sara's slight gasp almost made him pull away, but when she closed her eyes and pressed harder, that thought was banished. Their lips were slippery and they glided across each other for several minutes easily. He tried to keep things from getting too crazy, more afraid he'll scratch her up with his beard than anything. She kept playing with it and he knew that she liked it, and even though he secretly loved the idea of marking her with it, he didn't want to hurt her.
"Sara -" he half whispered, half pleaded. Wanting more, getting more, deserving more; they were all different things. Sara apparently thought that they should get what they wanted, because she pulled him closer and gave him access to her slightly open mouth, silently pleading with him to make the move himself and kiss her properly. He knew he was far from deserving, but took what Sara offered.
The press of her tongue against his was slow and hot. So hot he thought she was on fire – or maybe he was on fire. Grissom was so lost in the smoothness, the slickness, he didn't notice when his hand fisted her hair in the back of her head. Her grunt of approval he did notice, along with the fact that she was suddenly higher than him, having rose to her knees for better leverage.
Pulling away from her softly, Grissom reached up and trailed kisses along her cheek. He gently guided her ear closer to his mouth and whispered, "We have to stop."
"I know. I'm sorry," she said, pulling away but remaining on her knees.
Grissom smoothed down her wayward hair, searching for the words, but coming up short. This time it wasn't silence from a coward, it was silence from a man who, no matter the spans of his vocabulary, couldn't find words to give the moment justice.
"Are you okay?" he asked, finally.
"I think so." At his questioning brow, she elaborated. "I'm having a problem with breathing right now."
Grissom couldn't contain his grin at rendering her breathless. "Should we call somebody?" he teased.
"Maybe." She leaned her forehead against his and laughed. "I don't know – I can't think straight. What's the number for 911?"
TBC...