Chapter 5: Not a Drop to Drink
By the time Grissom and Sara made it to the lounge, it was dark and the show had already started. A quick glance from the doorway showed that neither of their groups were at the back of the auditorium. They paused to watch the comedian on stage as he made fun of a fifty-something bald man in shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, black socks and sandals who was making his way through the first few rows, arriving late. A glance at one another was all that was needed before they turned and quickly made their way out of the lounge.
"My friends are gonna kill me when I don't show up." Sara let out with a slight laugh.
"Mine won't even notice- that is, if they're in there at all." A smile hinted on Grissom's face, but Sara felt the comment deeply, her face falling a bit. Seeing that his joke wasn't getting the desired reaction, he held out his arm. "Can I offer you a stroll on the Promenade Deck? I meant to explore it before, but got sidetracked."
With a smile, Sara took his arm and slowly made her way with him to the staircase descending another level. "Sounds like fun. So far the only places my friends have wanted to see are the bars." She mentally kicked herself for mentioning her friends again. She let her head fall in embarrassment as he opened the door to the deck for her.
Grissom could feel the discomfort flowing off of her, and hoped that it wasn't because of something he'd said, or that she was uncomfortable out here with him. He offered her his arm again. "You didn't say you were going on a cruise."
She looked up, surprised that her words hadn't hurt him. She took his proffered arm. "Neither did you." She smiled at him. "So, like I said before, this is a convention?" After she had fallen into his room, they'd just silently accepted that the other one was there, and Grissom had offered to escort her to the lounge after she realized how late it was.
"Yes and no. It's not your typical convention. The organizers wanted to find a place where we could get away from work for a while with absolutely no possibility of being called back." He paused and smiled at her, "This may come as a surprise, but forensic entomologists tend to be workaholics."
"No!" Sara spat out in mock horror.
"It's true. So, short of sending out a helicopter, which I don't even think Mobley would be desperate enough to do, there's no way any of us can be called back to the office."
"Is there actually going to be any work done?" Sara looked over at her hand clasped in the crook of his arm before letting her eyes travel to his face. His eyes were wandering over the horizon. His voice almost startled her when he actually spoke.
"Maybe. I came here to do work, but even though I haven't been going to the meetings these past few months I've been keeping up. There isn't really much that's new that we can discuss. Besides, it doesn't seem like they want to get anything done. They spent the day getting drunk on over priced bourbon and smoking cigars." Grissom looked down at her. He smiled a little. She smiled back.
They walked in silence until they reached the back of the boat. Grissom stopped and rested against the rail. Sara leaned against the rail next to him. A soft, sighed "wow" escaped her lips.
"Quite a site, isn't it?"
"I haven't been outside since just after we left. You could still see land then." Their arms barely touched as they leaned on the rail, content to stare at the view. If either of them were disconcerted by it, it didn't show.
"'Water, water everywhere, and all the boards did shrink; water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.' Kinda puts that into perspective, don't you think?" Grissom leaned slightly into Sara, but looked straight out into the darkening evening sky.
"Definitely." She could feel the warmth from his body contrasting the cool ocean breeze. After letting herself indulge in the feeling of him next to her, her mind whirled and she spoke. "I thought it was 'Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink'?"
"Common misconception." Grissom turned so he was facing her, leaning on his right elbow. He missed the warmth of her arm, but enjoyed being able to look at her. "It's from Coleridge's 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.' Probably one of the most often misquoted lines." She was still looking out at the water, and it gave him a minute to take in her beauty. The halter top and black skirt were items he never thought he'd see her in considering her usual work clothes. Her hair, boasting a bouncing curl at the bottom, flew around her face in the evening ocean breeze. He couldn't help himself when his hand reached out to tuck and unruly lock behind her ear.
Sara's eyes snapped to his face, but he couldn't move his hand. He let it linger just below her ear for a second, before dragging it down her jaw line. A half smile grew on Sara's face. Grissom licked his lips and looked back to the ocean, slightly embarrassed.
Sensing his embarrassment, Sara leaned into him for a second, hoping that her ease in contact would bring him some. She turned to smile at him again, and this time was met with a happy gaze from him.
They both turned back to the disappearing horizon that was colored by a sunset hidden in far off clouds, content to share some time alone together.
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Grissom kept stealing surreptitious glances at Sara during dinner. He thought he was being sly.
"Grissom?" Danny waited a second before he nudged the man next to him. Grissom snapped back to attention. Danny smiled at the older man. "I see you found my brunette."
"Your brunette?" Grissom felt a pang of jealousy surge through him as Danny talked about Sara possessively.
"Yeah," Danny more felt than heard the strange tenor in Grissom's voice, and turned his face to his plate, shoving the remainder of his food around as he continued. "Remember, this morning? She's the one I saw going into the café..." his voice faded and he cleared his throat. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
"Absolutely." Grissom turned his eyes back to Sara's form a few tables away. She was far enough that he couldn't hear the belly laugh she was emitting, but close enough so that his eyes could dance over each feature as she leaned back, her neck bared and eyes sparkling.
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Sara licked the rest of the chocolate from her spoon, savoring its richness. Seeing that the other three were deep in conversation about their supposedly ruggedly handsome waiter, Sara turned slightly in her chair to peer deeper into the dining room. Her eyes finally focused on his table, but found it sitting empty. A frown crossed her face as she turned back to her friends.
Sara felt the distinct urge to run as far away from them as possible. She pushed it down and tried to look interested but inconspicuous at the same time.
When she'd first met them in the dining room she was faced with their disapproval of her missing the show, followed by their teasing when she'd announced they were right, that Grissom was indeed on the ship. But their incessant blabbering about the "hot with a capital T" guys mixed with ingesting heavy doses of liquor were starting to drive her up a wall. It seemed so far removed from who she was now, and she found herself wondering if she had ever been so shallow and self-indulgent. It was one thing to talk about the less important things of life, to be back acting like the 18 year old she once was, but right now, it had gone too far. Sara's mind could only take so much blabbing about sex and alcohol before she felt that it was enough.
She began wracking her brain for a formidable excuse to get herself out of the dining room. Maybe it was the alcohol she'd had today: it was more than she normally drank, or maybe it was the fact that Grissom provided more intellectually stimulating conversation as compared to this drivel, but no matter the reason, she couldn't stand to sit here any longer.
Sara felt the ship lurch again and an idea formed in her mind. She took a few minutes to slowly adjust her body language, hoping that it would be subtle enough for her friends not to notice. Sara took a deep breath and then said a quick prayer her little acting job would do the trick. Sara waited for just the right moment and then interrupted Keri in mid-sentence.
"Hey guys, I'm gonna go back to my cabin..." Sara carefully avoided their eyes and let her shoulders slump a bit, keeping both hands in her lap as she made a move to stand.
"Hey, Sara, you ok?" Mary Beth's eyes were glazed as she looked up at Sara, who was now standing shakily next to the table.
"I'm uh, not feeling too good. I'm gonna go take some Dramamine and lie down." Sara started to hope they believed her when Erika make a face.
"I thought you said you don't get sea sick?" Erika was obviously onto her. Sara made a quick decision and hoped it would work, and then told herself that she'd leave even if it didn't.
"I usually don't- but I usually don't drink when I'm on boats, either." Sara paused, held her breath, clamped her lips shut and pushed her rib cage out in a quick contraction while making a deep moan in the back of her throat. She threw her hand to her mouth and watched with hidden satisfaction as her three companions cringed back into their seats.
"Sara, get the hell out of here before you throw up on us!" Keri screeched.
"Oh God, Sara. Please- go!" Erika threw out, a little more than disgusted.
"Hun, call me if you need anything..." Mary Beth was able to slur out at Sara's retreating form.
As she exited the dining room and started to descend the staircase to her floor, she let out a sigh of relief. All she wanted to do was take a nice, hot shower and curl up in bed, letting the rocking of the boat lull her to sleep. A smile crept onto her face as she staggered down the hall to her room, more from the boat's rocking than any amount of alcohol she'd ingested.
Sara slipped the key in her door and pushed it open. As she went to close it she saw Grissom's door and the feel of his arms around her flooded back to her; a tactile and warm memory. The smile on her face grew as she realized that for the next week he'd never be more than a couple of hundred feet away from her at any given time.