Chapter Eleven

Sara stared at the partial reflection cast upon the glass windows. On account of the tragic blast, The Boulevard had closed business until further notice. Shutters now stood starkly against every store front. The usually bedazzled interiors were now illuminated by only few head lights.

However, media frenzy hadn't abated and the news channels tirelessly pursued every available person for some juicy tidbits. Sara had slowly proceeded towards the interior of the building and away from the explosion site. But searching for evidence wasn't the only reason why she was standing on the second floor, looking into one of the larger stores. The extinguished neon sign read, "Krystal Devon's Bridal Boutique".

>>

"Drop waist Taffeta gown with shirred strapless bodice. Full skirt with chapel train." A matronly woman held out a gown in front of Sara. "You can order your color choices and there are optional spaghetti straps if you prefer."

Sara forced a smile. "Beautiful."

"What about that one?" Catherine pointed to a material shimmering upon a svelte mannequin.

"Now that one is a Krystal Devon specialty." The woman's eyes sparkled with pride. "It's a pure satin and Organza gown. This is high fabric draped skirt."

Catherine turned towards Sara. "What do you think?"

"I think they all look alike." Sara replied.

Catherine rolled her eyes good-naturedly. The saleswoman had begun showing them two more dresses and Sara's mind reeled with the various designers' jargon.

"Okay, so which one would look good on me?" Catherine picked up the very first dress they had seen. "I like the lattice front on this one." Then she gestured towards the gown in satin. "But that one just looks sinfully elegant."

"Both are good." Sara stated after analyzing the dresses as best as she could.

"Sara, you are no help!"

She sighed. "Cath, I think you look like a goddess even in your pajamas. I'm the wrong person to ask."

"This one would look so pretty on you. It will really accentuate your bone structure." The smiling woman held out a sleek gown against Sara. "You see the trumpet-styled skirt and the sweep train at the bottom…"

"Whoa!" Sara raised a hand to stop the gracious lady from another one of her Armani brochure lectures. "It's very nice. Really nice. Thank you."

"Sara, what do you think of those?" Catherine pointed towards a pair of smaller sized dresses.

"Catherine, it's in pink!" Sara exclaimed, horrified.

"Yeah, so?"

"I don't like pink."

Catherine let out an exasperated sigh. "Those are not for you. I meant for our bridesmaids."

"We have to choose dresses for them too? Why can't they do it themselves?"

"Because, honey, we are the brides."

Sara grimaced. "Can we get something other than pink? That color is almost nauseating."

"Shopping is such a chore with you!" Catherine complained but she smiled. Sara had on one of the cutest expressions of annoyance.

"Both of you are getting married?" The saleswoman, who had been listening to their banter for a while, couldn't resist asking.

"Yeah." They answered simultaneously.

"To each other?"

"Yeah."

The woman ran a hand across her tightly coiffed gray hair. "Oh! You two suit each other."

Sara smirked. "We didn't really want to marry. It's just that she's pregnant with our child and it was the right thing to do."

Confusion and bewilderment fell on the woman's face like a ton of bricks. Catherine glared towards Sara and then muttered, "I'm sorry. She has a weird sense of humor, sometimes."

"I so do not, honeypie." Sara said in a syrupy voice.

"I have a feeling I'll not be able to return to this store in the next million years." Catherine looked around in embarrassment.

"You know, darling, I was thinking of calling our son Tommy." Sara continued chirping.

"That's a dog's name."

"You are right. How about Gil?" Laughter was bubbling on the brunette's lips.

"I don't want to wake up one night to find him playing with cockroaches."

They went towards one of the fitting rooms. Several life-sized mirrors donned the wall. Hangar stands stood precariously against the weight of the dresses. A group of women were just about done and leaving.

"I was thinking Conrad isn't a bad name." Sara scrunched up her nose as if in thought.

"Gives me the creeps." Catherine hung the dresses on the stand. "Besides, imagine what our son's nickname will be… Connie?"

"Point."

"I know!" Sara and Catherine turned towards a stout, angel-faced woman, beaming eagerly at them. "You guys should name your kid Gregory!"

>>

"Sara?"

Sara snapped back to the present to find Greg standing beside her.

"Greg, what are you doing here?" She blinked several times, not sure whether this was reality or an extension of her memory.

"Grissom asked all of us to get home and have some rest before coming back to work." Greg's features softened. "I thought I'll stop by and see how you are doing."

Sara turned away from him, not responding.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" He asked, worried.

"Nope."

"Well, I got you some veggie kebabs." He held up a paper bag that smelled of barbecued spices.

"Thanks Greg but I'm not really hungry."

Greg stood with his hands hooked onto his jeans. "You want me to drive you home?"

Sara closed her eyes and shook her head.

Greg watched his friend helplessly. Back in the lab, everyone had been concerned about Sara's behavior. Their in-work counselor had theorized that Sara was bottling up everything inside of her and that wasn't a good thing. She needed to find an outlet to her grief or else it could have detrimental effects on her physical and mental health.

But while Greg prided himself on being personally comfortable with just about anyone on the planet, he was at a loss right then. Struggling with his own emotions, he didn't know how to draw Sara out of this shell or comfort her when she crumbles.

Just then his phone rang. Keeping an eye on Sara, he picked it up.

"Oh hey Nick… yeah… yeah…" Greg blanched. "What? Are you… sure? Okay…"

"What's wrong?" Sara had noticed his expression.

"I have to get back to the lab." He replied weakly.

"Not before you tell me what Nick said." Her tone encouraged no arguments.

His palms sweated and he didn't trust his voice to not come out all rusty. But Sara's fierce glance wasn't one he could handle.

"Sara, I… I…"

"Greg, what is it?" She demanded impatiently.

"The lab found Catherine's DNA in one of the samples collected from the site."


Wow, I never really planned on putting so much suspense in the story... it was supposed to be romance... no idea what happened :P

Anyways, thanks for all the reviews. You guys are my sweet inspiration :)