Disclaimer: All rights reserved for CBS
A/n: Fair warning, this chapter is pure fluff, and the next might be too. But soon I'm going to be going into intense territory so I needed these light chapters. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 15
Sara poured the pancake batter onto the griddle and watched as, after a few seconds, it began to bubble. Once the entire surface was covered in tiny bubbles, she slid the spatula under the edge and tested it to see if it was time to flip it. It held up well, so she slid the spatula further under and quickly flipped it over, happy to see the even coloring on the cooked side. Satisfied with the heat of the griddle, she quickly poured out 10 small sized pools of batter, which would spread into nice, round silver dollar pancakes.
Once she had completed fifty pancakes, she covered them with the dome of the server, and moved on to the scrambled eggs.
She and Rona had worked out a deal. Sara would help with breakfast three days a week, so Rona could sleep in and Sara got to say at the Inn for free. Sara was glad for something to do, this was the longest time she'd ever gone without working. It had been over three weeks since she'd left Vegas, and she was getting antsy.
Sara glanced at her watch and cursed. "Where does the time go?" she mumbled as she picked up the server with the pancakes and delivered it to the dining room. She already had the coffee carafes out, and was relieved to see that no one was down yet.
She hurriedly brought out the rest of the dishes, including fresh fruit, toast, the fluffy scrambled eggs and a selection of cereals, and arranged them on the buffet with a jug of cold milk.
The first guests walked in just as she was pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Smith," she called as she headed back to the kitchen. "Help yourself."
She knew she couldn't stay in the dining room with the 'Smiths' any longer than necessary, or she wouldn't be able to control her nervous laughter. Even now she giggled as she gathered up the tray of jams and jellies to take out to the buffet.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and hurried to deposit the tray, barely glancing at the couple seated at the table.
They'd first arrived a week before, pulling up in a Winnebago, make that a hot pink Winnebago. Sara had seen it through her window and had gone downstairs to check it out. When she'd first seen Mr. Smith she'd thought he was sweet.
In his nineties and hobbling along on a cane, he'd looked like everyone's genial loving grandfather, and Sara had thought he'd been confused about what type of Inn he'd pulled into.
After all, over the last couple of weeks Sara had seen everything from threesomes, to an accidental run in with a female guest whose partner had gone into the town, and who had decided to… amuse herself out in the garden while he was otherwise occupied. Sara didn't think she'd ever run so fast in her life.
So on seeing old Mr. Smith, Sara had been tempted to direct him to a more… sedate Inn down the road a bit. But, he seemed to know Rona, and while they were talking, the door had opened and an elderly woman had hobbled in with a walker, and Sara had decided that Rona would be able to deal with them, and had gone back up to her room.
A couple of hours later Sara returned downstairs and found Rona in the kitchen. She asked her if she'd directed the old couple to the other B&B, but Rona had shook her head, saying that the Smiths were regulars, and they were definitely in the right place.
Sara had smiled and said how nice it was to see a couple married for so long and still looking to spice up their love life.
Rona had burst out laughing and when Sara had pressed her, refused to tell her what was so funny.
It had taken the better part of the next day before Rona explained, and Sara would remember that conversation until the day she died.
"C'mon Rona, what's so funny about the Smiths? They're such a cute couple." Sara smiled and leaned on the kitchen counter. "Did you see them at breakfast? They were holding hands and looking into each other's eyes. They're so cute together."
Rona giggled. "Well, they ought to be."
Sara shook her head. "What do you mean? A marriage that lasts that long is rare, and to have so much love for your husband or wife after so many years, well, I can't think of anything better."
At this Rona doubled over in laugher, finally gasping. "They-they're no-not mar-married."
Sara frowned in confusion. "But you called them the Smiths. I know it's a popular name, but that is rather odd."
Rona kept laughing. "Yes-yes the name is common, but-but these tw-two have a lo-lot more in co-common than that."
Sara shook her head. "Huh, what do you mean?"
"Well, for one, they grew up together… as brother and sister."
Sara stared silently for a moment, then, "You mean they, or one of them was adopted?"
"No, they were born to the same family." Rona watched the shock wash over Sara's face. " Hey, I was like you. When they first started coming here a couple of years ago I thought they were cute and I asked them how long they'd been married. I was told straight out that they weren't allowed to get married, but it was okay for them because they were happy as long as they had each other. I was confused about why they weren't allowed to be married, and that's when they told me. Mr. Smith said that they'd grown up extremely close, and their mother wouldn't let them bring friends home, and when they reached their teens Stew, Mr. Smith, had walked in while his sister, Clara, was in the bath, and he became interested in the female body. Well, I guess that would be normal, but it wasn't just any female body he was interested in. No, it was only Clara. But it was in their twenties when they both discovered that they were best off together. Clara's date had stood her up, and Stew… comforted her. They've been 'together' every since."
"Oh my God!" Sara whispered. "Why-why do they come here?" Sara was afraid of the answer.
"Well, seems they heard about us from another guest, and decided to check the Inn out." Rona lowered her voice to a whisper. "And let me tell you, they like to try EVERYTHING"
Now, Sara busied herself in the kitchen, trying to forget that she'd seen a note from Stew, requesting the flavored body paints. Once she was finished washing up, she peeked through the door to see if there was anyone left at the table. A young honeymooning couple remained, and Sara scooted out to check the buffet. She cleared up the empty dishes and checked the level of the coffee. She took the empty dishes to the kitchen and began to rinse them.
It wasn't that she didn't feel that people had the right to live the lives they wanted, but, she just had a very big problem with incest. At least the couple had decided against children.
Rona had said she'd asked them how they'd gotten along in society, and they simply told anyone who asked that families in royal families had intermarried for centuries, so it wasn't anything new, and you couldn't control who you loved.
Sara knew that love came to you whether it was allowed or not, but she felt that there were some times where it was prudent to ignore it. And if you happened to find yourself enamored of your sister, well, that was the time to fight it.
Rona came up the stairs a few minutes later and helped Sara clean up the rest of the breakfast dishes.
Sara looked out the window and noticed the overcast sky. "Looks like rain."
"Yeah, that new weather guy on channel 5 said there would be afternoon thunderstorms. He's kinda cute." Rona smiled. "I wouldn't mind being stranded with him during a storm."
Sara smiled. "I think you've got your hands full already. I'm surprised James still has a store, as often as he's here."
Rona blushed. "Well, he is sweet," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "and you wouldn't believe how inventive he is."
Sara laughed. "Well, then, you're a lucky woman." Sara lifted her cup to sip her coffee and sighed. You know, I think I'll go up to my room, write Grissom a letter. It's almost Christmas. I ordered him a present, but I'd love for him to have something a little more personal." She excused herself and ran upstairs.
Crawling onto her bed, she reached into the night stand drawer, withdrawing her notebook. She heard the rain start to pelt the window, and looked up to watch as her window blurred with condensation.
As odd as this place was, it had been a comfortable place to heal. She knew she still had to meet with her mother, but for the last few weeks she'd been at peace. Though, no matter how nice she felt, she still missed Grissom so much more than she'd thought possible, and she'd thought she'd miss him quite a lot. They talked regularly, and wrote each other, but she hadn't felt his touch in weeks, and being in this place, this place of fantasies, well, it didn't help.
Ah, fantasies. Before Grissom she'd only had one, to be with Grissom. After Grissom… well, that was another matter.
Sara walked down the hall, thinking about the meeting with Caprice. She could swear he'd looked at her and Grissom as though he knew something, knew that they were more than colleagues. But, how could he know that?
She joined the rest of the team, minus Nick, in the breakroom. They were going over the case notes to make sure they'd covered every detail.
Taking a seat opposite Grissom, she started going through her file, making sure it was in order and listening as Catherine talked about the case.
"Most likely, he was still alive when they left. They probably thought they just had taught him a lesson."
"They did, never confuse fantasy with reality," Grissom said, glancing at Sara.
She looked up and was surprised to see a look in his eyes normally reserved for away from work. She couldn't resist a small smile, suddenly ready to get home. She heard Greg mention what a great gift from a boss that the fantasy gift had been. She smiled. "Greg, don't you have a birthday coming up?" She watched Grissom as Greg answered, amused at his reaction.
Catherine gave her theory on what Greg's fantasy would be, but he denied it.
Once again, Sara was surprised to hear Grissom's reply.
"I think fantasies are best kept private," he murmured.
Sara felt the words like a physical caress. Luckily Nick came in before she did more than look at him. She tried to concentrate on what Nick was saying, but it was hard to do when Grissom kept staring at her and her mind kept coming up with tons of ideas for when they got home.
Sara barely heard Nick wrap up his hypothesis about nothing in Vegas happening by chance. She couldn't disagree. It wasn't by chance that she'd moved here, and it wasn't by chance that she still had the same feelings for Grissom as when she'd met him at that conference in San Francisco. She studied her papers and was barely aware of Catherine and Greg leaving. She looked up to find Grissom looking at her and heat flooded her body. Without thinking she said, "Okay, Gilbert, what is your fantasy?"
He was quiet for a moment before he smiled. "Well, Sara, I'm loath to talk about it at work, but if you'll allow me to," he glanced around, "meet you at your apartment, I think I can be convinced to disclose the details." He smiled and stood, heading for his office to close it up.
Sara watched him, her pulse pounding. Finally, she jumped up and hurried to the locker room. If she'd learned anything in the past few months, it was that whatever it was that Grissom had in mind, she was going to enjoy it.
Sara pulled up to her apartment and was surprised to find Grissom already waiting for her. She hurried out of the car and, together they rushed inside and up the stairs, arriving at her door winded, but exhilarated.
Once they were inside, they stood, facing each other. Sara smiled. "So, do you want something to eat?"
He grinned. "Not really. Can I tell you something?"
"Of course." She led the way to the couch.
He waited for her to sit, and then he slid up next to her. "Back at the lab, when you called me Gilbert, I really liked that."
Sara leaned forward and ran a finger along his jaw, feeling the rasp of his beard. "Is that so," she whispered. "You know, you seemed rather frisker than normal tonight, I thought I'd melt from the looks you were giving me. What got into you?" She leaned forward and nuzzled his neck.
"I-I don't know. I couldn't stop thinking about what Caprice said about dreams coming true, and about how, all mine have." He sought her lips, and the next few minutes were filled with silence.
She finally broke away and grinned. "So, what is this fantasy that you still haven't shared with me?"
His hand slid up her leg, resting on her hip. "You know my fantasy. It doesn't take props, or anything special. All I need for all my fantasies to come true are you, me, and an uninterrupted weekend." Grissom glanced at his watch. "And look at that. It's five AM on Saturday, and we don't have to be back into work until Monday night."
Sara laughed. "So, we have the weekend, and we have you, and me, so… let's get to this fantasy of yours. Then we can get to mine." She stood and headed for the bedroom, but turned back at the door. "Only, mine might involve props." She disappeared through the door.
Grissom stood up, his heart pounding. He couldn't wait to see where his life with Sara led.
Sara opened her eyes, her cheeks were wet. She wiped the tears away, and began writing, putting everything she felt into the letter. She told him of fantasies they still had to explore together, and adventures they still had to enjoy.
Sara signed the letter and sighed. The closer they drew to Christmas, the more nostalgic she grew for home. Picking out the tree with Grissom, putting out the decorations. This would have been the first year they could have the team over as a couple, and she couldn't believe she was going to miss that.
She looked up at a knock at the door. "Who is it?" she called.
"It's me, Rona. I have a package for you."
Sara called for her to come in, and was surprised when she appeared carrying a large package. "Wow, what is it?"
"I don't know, but it has a Las Vegas return address, and it's from one, Gil Grissom." She smiled when Sara jumped up.
Sara grabbed the box and tore it open. Inside there was a letter and a pile of clothes, and two wrapped boxes. One small, the other twice its size. She picked up the letter.
'Dear Sara,
You said you'd miss me with every beat of your heart, well, you know you have my heart, but I miss you with every fiber of my being. Know I think of you always, even when this case gets crazy and I'm rushed off my feet. You keep me going when I'd long ago have thrown in the towel.
Here are some of your things, something to make you feel more at home. The big box is your Christmas gift; don't open that until Christmas morning. I'll call you at exactly 8am, and you can open it then, I want to hear you open it. The other box is a gift you can open now. I'd love to see you open it, but for this I'll forego that pleasure. It's about time you had it.
Stay safe, keep me in your thoughts. You're always in mine. I love you, I always will. Talk to you soon.
Love,
Your Gilbert'
Tears slipping down her cheeks, once again, as she tore open the smaller box. Her smile lit the room when she saw what it was. She took out her engagement ring and slipped it around her trembling finger. The fit was perfect. She stared at the stone, her smile beaming and whispered, "You have my heart too, Gilbert."
TBC