Over the next two weeks Sara spent most of her working hours in the lab, finishing up as much paperwork as possible and closing as many cases as she could, not wanting to start any more cases she would have to leave the others to finish up. She also tried to leave on time, or as close to on time as possible. Grissom saw to that, calling her and pestering her to leave as soon as was humanely possible, and once she was home, he went to great lengths to get her to relax and sleep. Waking up beside him the morning after her last shift; she had worked most of a double, and then stayed up a later than usual to get started on being a day walker again, she stretched luxuriously and smiled to herself. The extra sleep her husband had been ensuring she received had gone a long way toward refreshing her and abating the exhaustion dragging at her. Thinking of her other half, she rolled over, looking for him, and found her bed fellow still asleep and snoring softly, with his mouth wide open. Sprawled on his chest, also fast asleep, was his obsessive follower and companion, Juliet. Sara looked around for Romeo, yawning with that sleepy satisfaction of a full night's rest. Her kitten was sitting on the post at the bottom of the bed, waiting. Sara giggled softly to herself and slipped out from under the covers, pulled on Grissom's t-shirt and carried Romeo into the kitchen. She filled his food dish and sat watching while he attacked his breakfast. Sara was making tea when Juliet skittered into the kitchen and pounced on her own meal. Hank, snoozing in his basket in the corner, opened an eye and grumbled before getting up and standing by the door, waiting for Sara to let him out. She tugged at his ears, one of his favourite tricks, and then sent him on his way. When she turned she found herself face to face with a tousled and half asleep Gil.
"Hi," she greeted him, leaning in to kiss him gently. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled flush against him, pressing his lips to her temple. She laughed as he tickled her and then kissed her again.
"How does it feel to be unemployed?" he asked, getting a knife, chopping board, and a melon from the fridge.
"Nice, for now." Sara poured tea and let Hank back in, feeding him and trying to stop Juliet from eating his food too. They sat down to eat together.
"So how much lecture prep did you do yesterday?" she asked, munching a chunk of melon.
"Lots, I'm ahead of where I expected to be at the moment," he told her, passing the cereal box.
"Will you be ready in time?" she asked. They were planning to leave in four days, drive to Dartmouth, taking three days to cover the 2720 odd miles with two stops, and have a week to settle in before Gil started teaching.
"Yes. I think so."
"We're taking my car," insisted Sara, pouring milk on her cornflakes.
"Yes dear," sighed Grissom, knowing a lost argument when he heard it.
"It's more economical, and better for the environment," she argued.
"We'll take your car," he said with a pacifying smile, wanting to stop the argument before it started again. She laughed, recognizing his tactics, and flicked an errant cornflake at him. He tossed it back and managed to land it in her bowl. She reached out and prodded his knee with her toes. Grissom slowly chewed his mouthful of cereal, wondering how to go about his next question.
"What?" she asked.
"What what?"
"Very funny Gilbert, whatever it is, get it off your chest now, before you spend the rest of the day mulling over it." Grissom cursed her intuitive ability to know when something was bothering him, normally it was a good thing, but right now he needed a little longer to collate his argument. "Come on, get it over with," she wheedled, sipping her tea.
"I think you should go to the ceremony," he said abruptly, wanting to get it out and over with. She stared back at him, and sighed.
"I knew you were going to say that sooner or later," she muttered, pushing cornflakes around in her bowl.
"And why not?" he asked, "It's a big deal! Besides, mother wants your photograph to go with mine." Sara choked on her tea, inadvertently inhaling it instead of ingesting it. She glared daggers at him.
"Since when does she know about it?"
"Since um... since I told her," he replied, "accidentally, of course," he added hurriedly. "And Greg wants you to go too. He wants to go and watch."
"I'm not even going to ask how he knows about it," she sighed, sipping more cautiously. "But he was harassing me the other day."
"Well, you know Cath's having us all over to her house for breakfast in a couple of days. The ceremony is in the evening, and Greg has that night off. He really wants to go Sara," said Grissom. "He's really proud of you." Sara sighed, knowing she wasn't going to win this argument.
"Fine, I'll go and you and Greg can come."
"And my mother."
"Fine!"
"Why are you so against it?"
"I'm not, I just don't want a fuss and I don't want the team to know."
"Why not?" Sara sighed and drained the last of the tea from her cup.
"It's one thing for you to have it, you're Grissom. You're the leader, the brilliant Bugman. I don't want to stand out any more that I already do, I don't want to be different from them."
"Does it bother you that much?"
"No, and I'm grateful for the experience, but," Sara struggled to explain herself.
"But what?" Grissom leaned forward on the table, gazing at her.
"It's the work that should matter, not the recognition," she concluded. Grissom rolled his eyes at her. "But I'll go," she conceded, with a grin, "just because you asked." He laughed at her as they got up to clear the table.
...
"We need to start packing," called Sara as Grissom got out of the shower. A moment later he appeared in the closet, a towel wrapped around his waist; he paused in the doorway, taking in her pale green cotton bra and panties. She was in the process of putting on her socks, bent over slightly with her back to him. She straightened and turned, running her eyes appreciatively over his near naked body. "Two can play that game," she smiled, reaching for an old tie-dye t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Before she pulled them on though, she stopped and turned to the mirror on the back of the door. She stared at her stomach, where a tiny bump had begun to form over the last week. She ran her hand over the skin gently, her mind reeling. A warm body pressed against her back, another hand slid over hers and they stared at each other in the mirror.
"I keep thinking I'm dreaming," he confessed.
"I hope not," she giggled, "I'd hate to wake up and find you still in Peru or France or Italy or wherever. It's about time we settled together; wherever we go." She turned in his arms and kissed him lightly.
"Definitely," he agreed, throatily, before pressing his lips to hers again. That kiss quickly morphed into several, which turned hungry and demanding. Sara sighed with pleasure when he pinned her against the wall, their passion quickly building until a shrill chime reverberated throughout the house, and Hank began to bark.
"Did you order something?" groaned Grissom, pulling away from her.
"No, you?"
"Definitely not," he grumbled as she yanked on her jeans and t-shirt, quickly checking her appearance didn't reveal her previous activities.
"Who the heck could it possibly be then?" she muttered, running her fingers through her hair as she ran down the hall, through the kitchen and up the stairs to the front door. 'And to think she was worried about our sex life,' she thought wryly as she waved Betty into the house, grabbing hold of Hank's collar until Betty greeted him and the overexcited dog calmed.
'Hi Betty,' signed Sara. They moved into the kitchen as Grissom came out of the bedroom, fully dressed.
'Hi mom, what are you doing here?'
'Visiting you, since you don't come to me,' she replied with a frown.
'Ouch,' laughed Sara.
'I saw you three days ago mother,' gestured Grissom.
'Well if you two are going off on yet another adventure, then we had better have that dinner before you go.'
'How about tonight,' suggested Sara, trying to keep the peace.
'Wonderful,' agreed Betty, turning to look at Romeo who was sitting on the back of a kitchen chair, looking at her. 'Who's this?'
'Romeo,' supplied Sara, before launching into the story of how she had found the two kittens and brought them home. Grissom whistled softly and Juliet came trotting out of the office; he bent to scoop her up and she settled in his arms. He watched his wife converse with his mother, filled with pride at the way she held her own. He was thoroughly impressed by just how much her ASL had improved recently; she only asked Betty to spell out a couple of words for her.
'How about we pick you up at seven mom?' he asked, putting Juliet on the chair with her brother.
'Alright,' she agreed. She looked them both up and down appraisingly as Sara made tea for them all. They settled in the living room to talk. Sara listened mostly as mother and son talked about Peru and Dartmouth. But when the conversation took a far more personal turn, she interjected.
'Betty, our sex life is off limits for talking about,' she signed firmly. 'We're happy, so you should be happy too.'
'I just want to know things are ok,' pushed Betty, 'a healthy relationship needs a healthy level of physical intimacy.' Sara closed her eyes; this was too much like talking to Hodges and Catherine all over again. She gathered the empty mugs, smiled at her mother in law and went back downstairs. She took refuge in the bedroom, gathering piles of clothing to take to the east coast, reminding herself that they would need clothes for all seasons. She was going through the camera case, checking everything was in order, when her frazzled husband appeared in the closet door once more.
"I love my mother, but she has the most impeccable timing and the no sense of when to drop a subject," he declared. Sara laughed.
"I'm sorry, but after Hodges I just couldn't listen to that all over again. If talk were true around here you and I wouldn't have a sex life."
"What a load of rubbish," snorted Grissom, sitting next to her and folding a stack of shirts.
"Indeed," she murmured, absently reaching over to caress his cheek. He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.
"Chalk?"
"Um no, just you," she mumbled, leaning into kiss him.
...
They were sprawled out on floor, making out like gifted teenagers when the doorbell rang for the second time.
"What the?" groaned Sara.
"Ignore it," hissed Gil, but when the bell rang insistently again she rolled off him with a troubled sigh.
"Your turn," she growled. "Don't take all day about it." Grissom hurried out of the closet and Sara sat up with a shake of her head and started hunting for her laptop case until her husband returned. He came back into the closet carrying a box.
"So you did order something?" she asked, finding the case under the shoe rack.
"No, this is from Peru, one of my colleagues promised to send it back to me. I just forgot about it." He dumped the box and then pulled Sara to her feet, wrapping her tightly in his arms and resting his head against hers. "Are you happy with our sex life?" he asked, his voice somewhat wary. Sara's head snapped up, she gaped at him.
"Why on earth would you ask that?" she choked out.
"Just checking," he mumbled, embarrassed.
"Are you happy?" she asked, her heart pounding with sudden fear.
"Very," he assured her, smoothing her hair back behind her ears.
"Well so am I," she swallowed, "and I'm going to kill your mother," she muttered under her breath.
"Don't do that," he grinned, "she means well. Besides, if anyone should have the right it should be me, to save us from further mortification." Sara groaned and hung her head. Grissom laughed. "Don't worry, I told her that we are fine, and that she needs to stay out of that aspect of our lives."
"You actually spoke to her about us?"
"No, I said we are fine, that's it. Then asked her not to bring it up again. Pleaded with her actually." Sara relaxed, shaking her head, and gathered up a stack of clothing, taking it out into the bedroom and setting it down with a pile of other things she was gathering. Grissom followed, carrying coats, hats, scarves, gloves and the camera case. He perched on the edge of the bed while Sara picked up her cell phone from her nightstand.
"How long till we have to pick up your mother?" she asked, switching off her phone.
"Hours, why?" he asked, amused. She moved to the other side of the bed and switched off his phone, then unplugged the landline.
"Are you expecting any other packages?"
"No, that's definitely it. Why?" Sara walked around until she stood in front of him. She climbed up on the bed until she was straddling his lap, resting on her knees.
"Because," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair and kissing him, "I want to finish what I started."
"Oh I think I can help you with that," he murmured in her ear, kissing her neck. He ran his hands up under her shirt, pulling her to him as their lips danced together. He lay back, pulling her with him and wrestling her shirt up over her head. She was working on the stubborn button on his jeans while he wound his hands into her hair and kissed her passionately. Grissom ran his hands up her back, and was reaching for her bra clasp when an eardrum shattering crash, a volley of infuriated barks and a cat's indignant scream split the air. Swearing, they pulled apart, lurched to their feet and sprinted for the kitchen.