CHAPTER ELEVEN: WILL YOU DANCE WITH ME?

Grissom and Sara managed to have a lie-in the next day. Everyone had been asked to meet in the afternoon for the first event of the jazz festival, so it gave those who wanted to explore the chance to get up and investigate at their own pace. Warrick and Catherine had gone out early for a stroll along the waterfront, Nick and Greg had gone for a jog, Brass was sitting in the hotel's dining area eating breakfast and reading the paper, and Grissom and Sara were lazing around in bed.

"You want me to call down for some room service?" Grissom asked.

"It's up to you. I'm perfectly happy to just lay here and not move a muscle," Sara mumbled, her face buried in Grissom's chest. "Why? Are you hungry?"

"Not really, I just thought you might be," he replied, rubbing her back.

"That means you are hungry, but you won't call down if I don't want anything," Sara chuckled. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Go on, then. Call down for some food while I get ready," she instructed him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Oh, and by the way, I really enjoy making love to you."

"Uh, thanks. I enjoy making love to you, too. What would you like?" Grissom called as Sara entered the bathroom.

"Just some coffee and toast, please. What are you going to have?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something while I wait for them to answer the phone," he answered sardonically.

When Sara came out of the bathroom, Grissom was sitting on the now-made bed in the white t-shirt and boxer shorts in which he slept, pouring coffee into two cups.

"Hey," Sara greeted him, smiling. "What did you decide on having?"

"Just some muesli, fruit juice, and coffee. Your toast's on your bedside table," he added, nodding to Sara's side of the bed.

"How did you sleep?" Sara asked between sips of coffee.

"Like a log, eventually," Grissom commented, throwing her a sideways glance and smile. "How about you?" He added innocently.

"Well, I can't remember anything between finishing our 'activities' and waking up, so I must've slept well." She returned the smirk.

"You know, you do seem to be tossing and turning a lot less, now," Grissom told her. During the first month of their relationship, it had been very dangerous to share the same bed as Sara; due to sleep disturbances and bad dreams, she tended to toss and turn an awful lot, making Grissom feel as if he was lying next to a windmill.

"Yeah, that's 'cause you have your arms round me. I can't move," Sara countered, trying to avoid the subject.

"What was making you move around like that?"

Sara glanced up sharply from her toast. "I don't want to talk about it. How many times do I have to ask you not to bring it up?"

Grissom threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey honey, I'm only asking because I'm concerned. I won't in future, though. You want me to know something about you, I won't bother asking, I'll wait for you to tell me." He finished his coffee and thudded off to the bathroom.

At one o'clock, Brass, Nick, Catherine, Warrick, Greg, Sara, and Grissom all met in the hotel lobby.

"Catherine and I went to check out the venues where we'll be today. They're all dotted along the waterfront, so it's only a ten-minute walk there, and then a couple of minutes between each place. The first event is in three quarters of an hour, it's some guy from Yale doing a set of Chicago jazz from the twenties, it should be good," Warrick told them.

The rest of the group nodded, and set off for the waterfront, Sara walking off quickly in the direction of Nick and Greg, and Brass loitering near the back, waiting to speak to Grissom.

"So, what's up with you two?" Brass blurted out as soon as the others were ahead of them.

"Nothing's up, Jim." Grissom's reply was terse.

"Then what's going on? First you bite her head off before your driving shift, and now she bounds off to go and talk to two young male colleagues."

Grissom winced at Jim's words. "Firstly, I did not bite her head off. I got a little .… pissed off …." he ignored Jim's snort, "and took it out on her. Then I apologised and we made up. Secondly, we had a chat before, and I overstepped the mark, she didn't like it, and now, as a result, she's going to realise that she could do so much better than me, and will go off a romp with both Nick and Greg." This last statement, much to Jim's surprise, was worded not with an exaggerated tone, but with fear.

"Oh come on, you don't seriously think she'd chose Nick or Greg over you? Look, you understand her a lot better than they do, and everyone here knows it. She doesn't have to explain herself to you. Does she?" He added, noting the look on Gil's face. "What was the chat about, anyway?"

"Oh, I commented that she'd stopped tossing and turning in bed, and then I asked her why she did it in the first place, and she basically told me to back off. I mean, fair enough, I do ask her about it often, but is that really asking her to explain herself?"

"No, of course it's not. What else are you supposed to do? Read her mind? Deep down, she knows you're concerned, but you know how she gets when she's defensive. Just show her you care, little acts, stuff like that, and she'll soon get the picture." He broke off when he saw Sara dwindling at the back of the group ahead of him. "Here's your chance, I'll leave you two alone," he told Grissom, strolling off towards the others.

"What was that about?" Sara asked Grissom as he caught up to her.

"Oh, nothing. Just two old friends catching up. Haven't had a chance to do that in a while," Grissom told her nonchalantly, reaching for her hand.

"You didn't tell him about us, did you?" Sara asked, narrowing her eyes.

"What about us? I wasn't aware there was anything to tell," Grissom replied innocently.

"Oh, that's okay, then," Sara said plainly.

Grissom pulled her close to him and slipped his arm round her waist. "You mean, did I blab about our set-to earlier on?" He whispered in her ear. "No, I didn't. He figured something was up, but I just said that it was nothing."

"Good," Sara answered, moving her body even closer to him. "If the opportunity arises here, can we dance?"

"What kind of question is that? It's expected of us. Actually, I was thinking that you might ask not to dance."

"Why would I do that?"

"You probably want to spend the trip with your feet intact." They both laughed, knowing that it wasn't really true.