Chapter Nine:
'Can you pass me that cup please?' Sara is stood in the kitchen, holding out her hand to Grissom, sat at the breakfast bar, paper in hand. He looks up then around the kitchen quickly.
'Why don't we do this at my place? There's more room.' He responds, seemingly oblivious to her request.
'Griss…. The cup?' She extends her hand in his direction, looking between his face and the offending object.
'And why don't you call me Gil anymore?' He presses. Huffing out she takes a step forward and leans over to get the cup herself, turning her back to him to rinse out the coffee remnants and placing it next to hers by the coffee machine.
'I haven't called you Gil since Frisco. It just doesn't seem right here.'
'Even now? Why doesn't it feel right? Is it because...' She interrupts.
'You get one more question, choose wisely.'
'Sorry.' He looks sheepishly over his glasses at her.
'I don't know why we haven't done this at your place, but we should. It would be nice for a change of scenery. Our…. Relationship was different in San Francisco, when I moved here you were my boss first, then my friend so it just kind of didn't seem right to be that informal, but if you prefer, I can call you Gil, Gilbert, whatever you want when we are here… or at yours.' She stands crossing her arms over her chest. 'Anything else?' She leans forward, waiting to hear his response.
'When will dinner be ready? I'm starved.' He looks back down at his paper, pushing his luck for sure. He doesn't look up to see the scowl he knows will be on her face but feels the towel when it hits him square in the face, quickly recovering he looks over to see her retrieving their dinner from the oven and smiles to himself. He will pay for that he knows, but for now he doesn't care.