The alarm screeched obnoxiously in Sara's left ear at four thirty am, startling her out of a lovely dream about her honeymoon. With a groan she thrust out an arm and smacked it into silence, then rolled onto her side, and found a pair of luminous eyes staring at her mere inches from her nose. Heart pounding with shock, she reached out and pulled Romeo into a cuddle; her kitten purred deeply against her chest, soothing her. With a sigh she crawled out of bed and stuffed her feet into her slippers. In the kitchen she whistled softly for Hank, he came trotting in at the sound of kibble being poured into his bowl, Juliet trailing after him. She stuck her nose into Hank's bowl, but the dog pushed her away with a paw. Sara could swear Juliet glared at him before attacking her own meal. Leaving them to it, Sara went to shower; the hot spray revived her substantially and then, wrapped in a towel, she wandered over to the bed, admiring the view of her husband sprawled across three quarters of the mattress, the sheets askew and revealing his rather muscular chest. She pressed a hand to his cheek and called his name softly.
"Gil, wake up."
"Call day shift," was the garbled response.
"They're not going to drive us to New England honey," she replied. A hint of a frown drifted across his features.
"I'm telling you that is NOT a dung beetle," he protested hotly. Giggling, Sara shook his shoulder lightly.
"Wake up Gil," she implored, louder this time.
"Fire ants taste just fine thank you," he growled. Sara sighed; since leaving the lab and establishing a decent sleeping pattern her husband was less than agreeable to wake up some days. She ran a hand through her wet hair and squeezed, collecting a handful of water droplets, which she proceeded to flick onto his face. It had the desired effect; he sat up with a start, berating the assistant he had worked with at the Sorbonne until his eyes fell on his towel clad wife and his sleep addled brain put two and two together.
"That wasn't nice," he groused, grabbing her and pulling her onto the bed with him.
"It worked though didn't it," she laughed as he tickled her. "Stop, stop," she gasped as his fingers assaulted her most ticklish spots. She squirmed madly under him, gasping for breath until he stopped abruptly and kissed her. She went instantly still as he deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue over her lips and making her moan softly.
"Well good morning," she gasped, fighting to breathe when he pulled away. He chuckled and traced her neck and jaw with his lips.
"You started it," he prodded, before kissing her again. Sara's response was to curl around him and deepen the kiss. He pulled back and stared at her longingly; she reached up and stroked the side of his face.
"We are supposed to be leaving in half an hour," she whispered.
"Really?" he mumbled.
"Not at all," she lied, fumbling for the twist that was securing her towel in place.
...
At five to seven Sara opened the back door and summoned Hank, then led him into the garage and settled him into his travel carrier. Romeo and Juliet were already secure and sleeping beside him. Grissom came in carrying the cooler, with a few left over items from the fridge and water and sandwiches for the day, all of which was covered in the contents of the ice tray from the freezer. Back inside the house, Sara checked everything was switched off, and spotlessly clean. Quickly she stripped the bed and stuffed the sheets into a plastic bag.
"What are you doing?" asked Grissom, coming in behind her and slipping an arm around her waist to cuddle her.
"Greg will be in every so often to keep an eye on things."
"I know."
"Were you not listening yesterday when Catherine tried to interrogate you about our sex life?" she asked, twisting in his arms to link her fingers behind his neck.
"You think Greg would snoop?"
"No, but I'd like to remove any incriminating evidence anyway. Besides, these are my favourite sheets; I want to take them with us."
"And your pillow?" he asked, as she slipped out of his arms and picked it up.
"An absolute necessity."
"Because?"
"Do I need a reason to want my own pillow?" she asked, heading for the door.
"Not at all dear," he replied, grabbing his own pillow and following her. Sara shoved the carrier bag into a scrap of space left in the trunk of the car, then stowed the two pillows on top of the dog cage, smirking at her husband. Grissom checked Hank, the kittens and the three plants (the original, the one from his mother and the one he had given her on the anniversary of their first year together). Knowing Sara wouldn't trust anyone to look after them after returning to Vegas from Paris to find Greg had almost murdered them, he had found a small box the three pots would fit in and stowed them safely.
"Can we go now?" he asked. Sara grinned and shook her head.
"One last thing dear," she said, taking both their phones, turning them off, and zipping them into the nearest bag. "Just you, me and the babies," she said, tickling Romeo through the cage bars. Taking Gil's hand she pressed it to her belly, "all four of them." He kissed her gently and tucked her hair behind her ears.
"Do you have the picture?" he asked as they slid into their seats and buckled in. Sara thought of the sonogram and smiled to herself.
"It's inside The Complete Works of Shakespeare. Now are you going to start the car? You did insist on driving the first leg, but if you want to reconsider..." Grissom pulled a face and pressed the start button, then pulled out on the street, making sure the garage door shut behind them.
"Here's to you, me and adventure," he said, heading for the freeway.
...
They were almost out of Utah when they stopped for the first time, pulling over to stretch their legs, eat some fruit and let Hank out. Returning to the road Sara took the wheel, driving toward Nebraska while Grissom fiddled with her iPod, looking for the classical songs he knew she listened to when they were apart.
"What is Lady Gaga?"
"Something Greg gave me," she replied. "You probably won't like it," she added, trying not to smile as Poker Face started playing. Out of the corner of her eye Sara saw her husband tilt his head to the side in concentration as he listened to the music. Raising an eyebrow he moved to the next song on the playlist.
"Another gift from Greg?" he asked as Rihanna started singing S&M.
"Definitely," she replied. "Try the third playlist; it has what you're looking for." When Elgar's rich tones began playing through the speakers, he asked
"How do you know what I was looking for?"
"I can read your mind. I made the playlist for you." Grissom smiled and let his hand rest comfortably on her leg.
...
They had not long crossed the border into Iowa when Grissom pulled into a motel for the night; they were both shattered and the animals were getting restless. While Sara went to book a room for the night he let Hank out and walked him around the parking lot. Freed, Hank bounded from bush to bush, sniffing madly for a few minutes until he returned to sit at Grissom's feet, waiting for attention. Bending down, Gil played with the dog's ears, petting him. Minutes later Grissom set up the litter box while Sara let the kittens out to roam the tiny room. After feeding everybody, Sara changed into her PJ's and climbed into bed, trying very hard not to think about all the germs her body was currently in contact with. Griss crawled in with her and they snuggled together, exhausted. Hank draped himself across the bottom of the bed; Sara felt Romeo lodge himself into the small of her back just as she started to drift off to sleep. It was barely five minutes later however, when a crash jolted her awake again, just as Juliet flew over her head and across the room, only to turn around and hurtle back again, before disappearing into the bathroom.
"What is her problem?" groaned Gil as Juliet rocketed past him before flying under the bed, scaling the table and then climbing up the curtains. Sara's response was to stick her head under the pillow. Grissom closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, only to have a furry female kitten land on him, before taking off again. With a sigh, he got up, hunted her down and carried her back to bed. Curling up with Sara again, he wedged the kitten against his side and took hold of her right forepaw. He gently pressed the top until she spread her toes and curled them around his finger and he could gently massage her toes; a trick he had learned a few days ago in order to make her relax and fall asleep. At the sound of deep purring, peace descended upon the room, and he was finally able to slip into undisturbed slumber.
...
A soft thud and a series of quiet growls woke Sara the next morning. She rolled to the edge of the mattress and peered under the bed; Romeo and Juliet were play fighting over a sock. A glance at the clock made her groan softly. It was six twenty-seven, and they had gone to bed well after midnight. Hank didn't even twitch as Sara burrowed back into the bed and pulled the covers over her head in protest.
...
Grissom woke next, blinking sleepily against the harsh light poking through the crack in the curtains. Juliet was standing on his chest, teeth bared. Before she could attack, he grabbed her and got up to feed her then dressed quickly in yesterday's jeans and sweater, frowning when he couldn't find his sock. Putting a leash on Hank, he left in search of food and in the interests of letting Hank out for a while. Sara woke minutes later, aware that she was alone in bed. She heard the soft crunching of two mouths munching on kitten food as she peered out from under the covers. Nine fifteen am. That's much more like it, she thought getting up and walking over to the bathroom. She was showered and dressed when her husband walked back in with Hank and a bag that smelled deliciously like breakfast.
"Morning dear," he greeted her, stealing a kiss as he put the bag on the bed. He had tea, muffins, fruit and granola bars and sandwiches for later. They ate quickly, and then he showered and dressed while Sara packed their few things and fed Hank. As they were about to leave, he remembered something. "What happened to the socks I was wearing yesterday, I could only find one this morning?"
"Kittens," she said simply. He laughed and picked up the cage, escorting their furry friends to the car. The set a steady pace again; aiming to reach Ohio before they stopped again. They traded driving off and on as they felt tired, stopped to eat, refuel and let Hank out. They had lunch at a truck stop, watching Hank wander from tree to bush to plant as they ate. It was late when Sara drove across the border into Ohio, Grissom was dozing lightly in the passenger seat and the iPod had come to the end of its current playlist. Hank was snoring, and Sara smiled to herself, revelling in the peace, quiet and close proximity of her loved ones. They had crossed into Ohio ahead of schedule and she decided to keep going for a while, but after an hour or so Sara could take the confines of the car no longer, and they found a suitable stopping place. This time it was Sara who walked Hank while Grissom paid for a room and fetched the necessary things inside. When Sara returned with cups of hot tomato soup, thick slices of bread and steamed edamame, a favourite of both of theirs, she found Gil making tea while Juliet thundered around the room, chasing her brother. They sat cross legged on the end of the bed to eat, facing each other with their knees touching.
"How old do kittens have to be before they can be fixed?" asked Grissom, as Juliet swiped an edamame pod. "I've heard that it calms them down sometimes." Sara choked on her soup as she laughed at his wishful tone.
"Seven months or so," she replied.
"And they are...?"
"Three and a half." He groaned, and removed the greenery from Juliet's sharp claws. Instead, he fished an errant piece of string from his pocket and dangled it in front of Romeo, who was sitting on the floor. Twenty minutes later they were lying in bed facing each other.
"Are you still excited?" asked Sara, smothering a yawn.
"Yes," he replied, reaching out to caress her face. "But it would be nice to be there already."
"Yeah," she agreed. "Maybe on the way back we can go slower and visit some places."
"That sounds nice," he agreed, sliding closer to her and pressing his lips gently to hers. Sara sighed happily into his kiss and moulded herself against him as she closed her eyes and nestled her head into his shoulder.
...
It was late afternoon the next day when they finally pulled into the reception area of Dartmouth campus, where Grissom's contact Anders Lindt was waiting for them. He greeted them warmly and they followed him to their housing area; a quiet street with tidy homes and well looked after gardens. The street dead-ended and they stopped outside a small, single storey house with a fenced yard.
"I thought you said it was an apartment?" asked Sara as she stopped the car.
"I did," he replied as they got out and walked over to Anders.
"There was a change of plans three days ago; the tenant moved out and the housing department thought you might like Oak Cottage here." Anders handed them two sets of keys and a packet of papers. "It's late so I'll leave you to settle in, but I'll be back tomorrow. How's ten o'clock?" Grissom agreed and after asking if they needed anything, Anders left them to it.
"Ok then," said Sara, putting a key in the door. The cottage was small and homey, decorated in rich, warm colours with chunky, inviting furniture. Everything was modern, and uncluttered, the surfaces neat and tidy. An inspection of the rooms revealed two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small office, a living room off the entry hall and a kitchen and dining area in one. It would suit them perfectly as a home away from home. Before they fetched Hank from the car they checked the back garden, which was medium sized with a lawn and several large leafy trees at the bottom. The whole thing was securely fenced in, so they let Hank loose to run off all his pent up energy. They emptied the car, putting everything in the office before releasing the kittens. Romeo made a beeline for the litter tray while Juliet pounced on her food. Grissom got the last of the milk and cereal from the cooler and they munched on their supper in quiet contentedness. A quick joint shower and a change of bed sheets and they called it an early night after the last couple of days.
...
Sara woke at six thirty, feeling fully refreshed and freezing cold. She looked around, feeling a little disconcerted until her sleep hazed mind caught up with reality. She was in Hannover, New Hampshire and apparently her husband had rolled over in his sleep, taking the majority of the covers with him. Stretching, she got out of bed and pulled on her clothes from yesterday, not having a clue where anything else was and not wanting to go scrabbling about and risk waking sleeping beauty. She located the cleaning supplies she had left by the office door and then headed for the kitchen; it was time to investigate properly. Though the cottage had been recently cleaned, Sara went through all the cupboards, finding the usual kitchen implements and tools, and cleaning as she saw fit. Years of going through other people's homes had induced a kind of germ paranoia into her already borderline obsessively clean and tidy nature. When she was satisfied she could happily prepare food on the counters she opened the fridge, and almost vomited when she came face to face with an overflowing jar of wriggling mealworms. Slamming the door, she hesitantly opened the freezer above, relieved beyond measure to find nothing but a tray of ice cubes. Shivering at the thought of grubs in her food, she pulled out the shelf, dumped the ice and scrubbed everything thoroughly; her other half could deal with the creepy crawlies when he woke up. She moved on to the table, disinfecting it and the chairs, trying very hard not imagine where those worms had been before making their home in the fridge. Romeo wandered in and perched on a chair, watching her with interest. Sara talked softly to him as she worked, pausing every so often to stroke him and play with his whiskers, making him purr. She was just finishing when Grissom walked into the room, his hair sticking up in tufts and his eyes blurry with sleep.
"What are you doing?" he asked, taking in the sparkling room. "You promised you wouldn't bring an ALS with you."
"I didn't, but just because I can't see anything doesn't mean it's not there."
"Right," he replied, smiling to himself, knowing full well that he was as neat and tidy and clean as she was.
"You get to do the fridge though," she added, "there are worms in there." Grissom meandered across the room and opened the fridge door, peering in at the object of Sara's distress. He lifted the container out and stepped back to examine it, just as Hank wandered in behind him. Gil slipped, wind milling his arms to stay on his feet, and spraying worms everywhere. Sara froze, horror struck as Juliet pounced, batting wriggling blobs around. Hank barked, dancing around the creatures and Romeo scrambled up onto the table, away from the mess. Sara felt her head spin, she snatched up Romeo and went for Juliet, stopping dead in her tracks as the other kitten bit into a worm, then promptly spat it out again. Making tracks for the door, Sara felt ice cold revulsion flood through her body as she stepped on a worm with her sock clad foot and felt it smush against the pressure. Gagging, she jumped for the door, yanked off her socks and bolted for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Ditching Romeo on the bed, she vomited what little there was inside her into the toilet, shivering. This is not an auspicious start to our first day here, she thought weakly.
...
...
The trick with Juliet's paw really works; my cat goes totally crazy sometimes and it really calms him down. everything about dartmouth campus is made up- ive never been there but i would have liked to- so beautiful. please R&R