Chapter Four

After two days of long hours, Nick and Sara were in the break room completing the paper work on the Palmer case. The interviews of the salespersons had led to a string of connections that required searching for more suspects, then more interviews, with the subsequent analysis of additional trace evidence. But the trail eventually led to a disgruntled classmate who had been bullied by the victim.

Sara hadn't been able to get a confession from him. But that wasn't her job. Her job was to gather the evidence. And the evidence was sufficient to warrant an indictment. Both Sara and Nick were certain that it would stand up in court.

As he walked down the hall toward them, Grissom revisited Reason 101 of 'Why Sara and I Won't Work' - she's young and should be with someone closer to her own age.

Nick was a fine young man. Grissom had the highest regard for him, particularly after his kidnapping ordeal. He was compassionate as well as passionate. And even Grissom could recognize his good looks. For a romantic companion, Sara could do a lot worse than Nick.

Like him. He glanced at his reflection in the glass wall and paused. What could she possibly see in a graying, bowlegged, antique of a man?

"Are you ready to go? I hope we're eating breakfast first. I'm famished." Sara was looking into the room, assuming Grissom was looking at Hodges as he worked. When she turned and looked at Grissom, all thought of Sara with another man left him. The way she looked at him, as if there was nothing else in the world that interested her, made him believe that he was the only thing in her world. For reasons he couldn't fathom, she was with him. And he would try to be the best man he could be for her.

"Well, breakfast seems to be our new routine. Dilger's again?"

Sara nodded enthusiastically. "They have the best mushroom and cheese omelets I've ever tasted. Are we both driving to the museum?"

Grissom shook his head. "No, there's a special parking area for members. I can drop you back here to pick up your car later."

"Just let me put my jacket in my car. It's going to be a warm day and I don't want to worry with it. Meet you in the parking lot."

The ride to the restaurant was far from quiet. Sara filled Grissom in on the specifics of the Palmer case. In spite of his concerns about talking shop, Grissom had discovered that it often led to more revealing information. When Sara mentioned that the victim owned a restored Toranado, Grissom was inspired to tell Sara about his desire for a Toranado in his youth. This led to a discussion of his first car and, eventually, to his restored, vintage Mercedes Benz that they were driving today. Grissom's concern about Sara's lack of sleep because of her overtime prompted her to confess that she rarely ever sleeps much anyway due to nightmares.

"So many things about this case made me think of the movie My Bodyguard," said Sara after they had ordered their breakfast.

"I've never heard of that movie," responded Grissom.

Sara stopped the glass just short of her lips and looked intently at Grissom. "Well, then, I hope you don't have plans for tomorrow. I'm going to go rent it. I'll fix you breakfast at my place and we'll eat in front of the TV."

"It's not one of those movies that will ruin my appetite is it?" inquired Grissom, his toast stopped halfway to his mouth.

Sara laughed. How he loved that laugh.

"No. It's about this boy…no, I'm not going to give it away. You'll like it. I promise."

If Sara was with him, he'd like it.

How his perspective on life had changed! Just a few days ago, he was actually able to live his life as if Sara Sidle was no more than a colleague. Today, he felt as if he wasn't alive, truly alive, unless she was with him. And they were only going on their first date today.

They left the restaurant and went the short distance to the Las Vegas Art Museum. Grissom had his pass and had previously purchased a ticket for Sara. Sara excused herself to go to the bathroom.

Grissom wasn't nervous. He thought he would be. He wanted the day to go well because a first date set the tone for the rest of the relationship. He had not had a satisfying relationship in years. Every first date he had gone on in recent history ended in disaster, usually because he was called to a scene. Women didn't like it when they realized that the job took precedence over them.

With this in mind, Grissom pulled out his pager and, after a moment's hesitation, turned it off. He pulled out his cell phone and did the same. Work would not interrupt his day with Sara.

The invitation had been to view the Degas exhibit, so Grissom steered Sara toward the Impressionist gallery. He had spent some time studying up on this topic, feeling like a college student cramming for an important final exam. He had reviewed in detail his book on Degas. Having been to the exhibit before, he knew what was on display and researched the background on each painting. He wanted to make the day interesting and informative for Sara. And it wouldn't hurt if she came away from the date feeling impressed with his knowledge of art

After a lengthy discourse on the first three paintings, Grissom stood gazing at the next painting. It was one of several portraits of the French couple Edmund and Terese Morbilli. "I've seen this couple before in Degas' work. She was his sister. For a married couple, they don't seem like they want to be together."

Sara scrutinized the painting. "Oh, but none of these was the original painting of the Morbillis. In the first one, Edmund's hand was on her breast and Terese was kneading his buns with her left hand. Her brother got tired of having to stop every so often for them to…release the tension, and demanded they keep their hands to themselves for the remainder of the sitting. That original painting was deemed unsuitable by the family and burned. In all future sittings, the couple was placed far apart."

Grissom was speechless. He had never heard this story before. He looked at Sara askew and saw a smile spread across her face. "Gotcha!" she declared.

Grissom began snickering. "I can always depend on you to give a… fresh perspective." Smiling broadly, he reached for her hand and enfolded it in his own. They walked to the next painting. The intellectual commentary that Grissom had composed ceased. Instead, they began making up scenarios for the subjects of the painting. The dancer had pulled a hamstring and was leaving the ballet to run off with her Bohemian lover. The family at the beach was going to row their boat across the channel and become performers on the London stage. They smirked at some, laughed at others.

Grissom couldn't remember ever having a better time. If the first date did indeed set the tone for the relationship, his life couldn't get any better.