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Fairytale
of
Grissom and Sara spend
Christmas together. GSR fluff.
---
I’ve got a feeling
This year’s for me and
you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come
true
…
You took my dreams from
me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can’t make it all alone
I’ve built my dreams
around you
Fairytale
of
---
It
was shaping up to be the oddest Christmas ever.
For
a start, and for the first time ever since moving to Vegas more than 5 years
ago, Sara wasn’t working on Christmas day. And for another, she wasn’t going to
be spending it alone.
But
it wasn’t even the fact that Grissom had actually asked her to spend Christmas
with him that was odd. It was the fact that they were now sitting in the living
room of his townhouse, arguing about Christmas songs, that was really throwing
her for a loop.
“That
has to be the most depressing song ever written,” Grissom was insisting. “The
woman is dying from long term drug abuse and the guy is locked up in the city
drunk tank.”
“It
still has a beauty, a fierce romance about it,” Sara argued back. “They started
out being passionately in love with all these hopes and dreams…”
“Hopes
and dreams that were soon destroyed in a haze of alcohol and drugs…”
“But
they’re still thinking about each other in the end.”
He
fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s really romantic. Especially
the part where she calls him a ‘scumbag’ and a ‘maggot’.”
She
laughed. “Well, you’re the one who loves bugs. Some part of you must think
that’s a term of endearment.” She smirked at the chuckle that elicited from
him. “Even you have to admit that Kirsty MacColl’s voice is beautiful.”
Conceding
that point, he nodded. “Shame I can’t say the same about Shane McGowan’s.”
She
shook her head, disapprovingly. “Not a Pogues fan,
Grissom? Have you no Irish blood in
you?”
He
laughed as he went to the kitchen to check on how dinner was progressing.
As
Sara took another sip of mulled wine, she though about how much had changed
between them in the past year…
She
had first noticed a shift in their relationship after she made the stupid
mistake of getting behind the wheel of her car, having had a couple of beers.
Grissom had come to the PD to pick her up and she had never felt so ashamed or
embarrassed in her whole life.
But
Grissom hadn’t chastised her, which was what she’d been expecting. He hadn’t
even been angry with her. He’d simply taken her hand and driven her home.
After
that, he had made more of an effort with her. Gone were the months at a time
when he’d avoided working with her. He’d even increased her responsibilities by
charging her with the bulk of Greg’s CSI training. That fact alone gave her
back all the confidence she’d lost when he’d passed her over for promotion.
When
Ecklie had split the team up and promoted Catherine to head up the Swing shift,
their professional relationship had developed further. Sara had become his
right hand, he relied on her as much as he ever had Catherine, and it seemed
like all the damage that had been done to their working relationship in the
previous two years was well and truly repaired.
Their
working relationship fixed, it was time to turn their attention to their
friendship.
She
had almost forgotten that they used to be friends when he showed up on her
doorstep one night after she had yelled at both Catherine and Ecklie. She supposed
he was simply there to fire her. She had supposed wrongly.
He
wanted to listen. He wanted her to open up and share her inner most problems
and fears with him. That gesture along was a huge step for them. So she had
opened up. A lot more than he had
anticipated, she wagered. But it had marked another turning point for them.
Her
revelations that night had given him a new-found respect for her. Not simply as
a criminalist but as a person. They were able to talk again, not just about
work but about everything, as if a blockage had been removed from between them.
And
then Nick had been kidnapped, and that had changed every single one of them
irreversibly. The first thing Grissom had done after they had rescued their
friend and colleague was to convince Ecklie to put the team back together.
Catherine had agreed to come back to the Grave shift as Grissom’s co-supervisor
– and she took much less convincing than anyone had imagined.
The
changes brought about by the reunion were varied, ranging from the obvious to
the subtle. Warrick had gotten married, which no one had seen coming. The team
had reinstated their regular breakfasts – trying to fit one in at least once a
week. Grissom had even gone out for a beer with the boys on a few occasions.
And
Grissom had asked Sara out to dinner.
Neither
of them had mentioned any romantic intentions. They simply took delight in
talking, sharing their stories, allowing their friendship to strengthen.
They
had repeated the activity numerous times in the months that followed. Dinner, a
movie, a ride on a rollercoaster. With any other man, Sara might have called
them dates, but she dared not name these excursions, fearing that to do so
would jinx everything.
Their
last night out had been ten days before and at the end of the night Grissom had
taken her hand as he walked her to the front door.
“I
had a good time tonight,” she has said, trying to keep the tremor out of her
voice that she felt shudder through her at the warmth of his touch.
“Me
too,” he looked nervous as the reached the door, which only increased Sara’s
own nerves. Was he going to kiss her?
“Do you… uh… have plans? For Christmas?”
It wasn’t a kiss, but it
was possibly even better…
Ten
days later she was sitting in his living room, which was simply yet cheerily
decorated for the holiday, sipping on mulled wine, while he slaved over a hot
stove for her. She must have been a very
good girl this year…
“It
won’t be too much longer,” he told her, coming back from the kitchen. “Now,
where were we?”
“Well,
we’ve established that you don’t like ‘Fairy Tale of New York’”
“I
didn’t say I didn’t like it – I simply disagreed with you on whether it was a
particularly romantic Christmas song.”
She
smirked. She was talking about romantic songs with Grissom. This could either
lead some place wonderful or somewhere completely awkward. At present, she had
no idea which. But, for once she was eager to find out.
“Okay,
so what’s your idea of a romantic Christmas song?” she wondered.
He
gave it some thought. “Let It Snow,” he finally declared.
She
couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Seriously?”
He
shrugged. “Is there anything more romantic than the prospect of having the excuse
to stay in front of a fire all day and night with the person you love?” He
smiled as his eyes met hers.
Sara’s
breath caught in her throat. She had never heard Grissom be so openly romantic,
but she tried desperately not to read too much into his statement. She had done
that far too many times in the past, which only ever led to disappointment.
Instead, she smiled back and said nothing.
Dinner
was a sumptuous and completely meat-free event, which surprised and impressed
Sara to no end. When they had gone out
to dinner, Grissom had never avoided eating meat in front of her, and she had
not expected him to. But to forgo the traditional turkey on Christmas day…
“It
just seemed pointless to cook a turkey just for myself,” he explained when she
asked him about it. “And, I didn’t want the smell of it cooking to bother you.”
The
spread was impressive, to say the least. Nut roast, both creamed and roast
potatoes, honey roast carrots and parsnips, brussel sprouts, with vegetarian
stuffing and gravy to complete the traditional fare. It was magnificent.
“You’ve
been holding out on me,” she told him. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“You
haven’t tasted it yet.”
“Trust
me; I’ll be easy to please. My Christmas dinner for the past… who knows how
many years, has consisted of either sandwiches or Chinese take-out.”
That
fact saddened him, and she could see it in his eyes.
“Hey,
no feeling sorry for me, Griss. This Christmas is more than making up for the
less than stellar ones of the past few years.”
“That
was the plan,” he replied softly.
They
ate and chatted about uncomplicated matters, as they always did when they
shared a meal. The food truly tasted as good as it looked; a fact which Sara
repeated frequently.
After
the dishes were cleared away into the dish washer, they settled back onto the
sofa with their wine. It was then that Sara noticed an impish glint in
Grissom’s eyes.
“What?”
she asked, suddenly suspicious.
“I
have something for you,” he confessed. Getting up and moving to the tree, he
retrieved a present from underneath it.
Grinning
broadly, she accepted the gift and brought it to her ear, shaking it comically
as he sat back down.
“Hmmm….”
she pretended to guess what was inside. “Could it be… a book?”
Trying
not to laugh, Grissom deadpanned. “How did you guess?”
“We’re
predictable creatures, you and I, Griss,” she told him, reaching to the side of
the sofa where she’d left a carrier bag. “Creatures of habit, you might say.”
Retrieving
the present from within her bag, she handed it to him with a shy smile. “Happy
Christmas.”
“Happy
Christmas to you,” he replied, taking the gift. “And thank you.”
“You
don’t know what it is yet,” she said wryly. “Go on. You first.”
Her
gift to him was actually two individually wrapped packages, attached by a
length of Christmas ribbon. Untying it, he opened the larger of the two first.
“The Lepidopterist’s Compendium,” he read
the cover. “I’ve been looking forward to reading this one.”
She
grinned. “It was only published last week, so I took a shot and got it for you.
You hadn’t pre-ordered it or anything, had you?”
He
shook his head. “No, I hadn’t gotten around to it yet,” he smiled at the book
and then at her. “Thank you, Sara.”
She
smiled back and then nodded at the other, thinner present on his knee. He
opened it to reveal a book of poetry.
“John
Donne,” she told him. “I figured there would be no point in getting you
Shakespeare, but I discovered Donne in college. I hope you like him.”
“I
do,” he replied, both pleased and moved by her gift. “For love, all love of other sights controules,
And makes one little roome, an every where.”
“The Good Morrow. You really can quote
everything, can’t you,” she laughed.
“Your
turn,” he directed her towards her own gift.
Sliding
a short nail underneath the tape, she opened one side gently, but stopped short
when she heard a “hmmm” from Grissom.
“What?”
“Nothing,”
he replied. “I just… I always figured you for a ripper.”
“A
ripper?”
He
shrugged and it amused her, so she ripped off the remaining paper with one
eyebrow arched.
Inside,
was a beautiful leather-bound volume, gilt lettering on the spine which read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin.
“Oh,
Grissom,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful…” Gently opening the cover, she noted
the publishing date – 1883. “This must have cost you a fortune! Where did you
find it?”
“I
won it on ebay,” he said simply, more interested in
enjoying the look on Sara’s face. Her eyes had lit up, brighter than he’d seen
them in a long time.
“Grissom,
it’s…” she was at a loss for words. “It’s too much… It’s the most beautiful
present anyone has ever given me.”
“I’m
glad you like it,” he said sincerely – relieved that he had gotten it right. “I
remembered hearing you discuss it with Catherine and you said it was one of
your favorite novels.”
Sara
was embarrassed to realize that she had tears in her eyes at the thoughtfulness
of the gift. Unable to find the words to adequately thank him, she threw
caution to the wind and leaned across the couch to deliver a soft peck on his
cheek.
“Thank
you,” she said softly, her breath caressing the side of his face, making him
close his eyes for a moment and enjoy the sensation.
“You’re
welcome,” he told her, leaning his face towards hers, so that his beard brushed
softly against her cheek. “And thank you for your gifts.”
For
a moment, neither of them moved, both savoring the closeness, while at the same
time terrified to break the spell. Sara worried that as soon as they moved
away, things would become awkward between them again. But, instead Grissom
leaned closer towards her, his lips coming close to her ear.
"In vain I have
struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me
to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," he whispered.
His
words sent shivers through her, but he was quoting again, this time from the
book he had just given her. Was he just rising to her earlier challenge of
being able to quote from all great works of literature, or did he really mean
those words?
“Okay,
you’ve impressed me,” she said into his ear. “You can even quote the great
Darcy himself.”
She
could feel his hand take hers, their fingers intertwining. “He wasn’t so
great,” Grissom replied. “He was arrogant. Socially awkward. Found it difficult
to express his feelings. He treated Elizabeth badly in his efforts to ignore
his feelings for her.”
She
gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Some girls find that attractive in a man.”
Slowly, Grissom pulled away so that he could
meet her eyes. “I’ve done my best to rectify my past behavior towards you,
Sara. I know how much I hurt you…”
She
shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It
matters to me,” he told her. “I was a coward and an idiot and I don’t deserve
to have you still be in my life. I figured if I stood any chance of ever moving
forward with you, I’d have to make amends for everything in the past first.”
“Grissom…”
“Sara,
let me get this out. I’ve no reason to expect anything from you. But, we’ve
been getting closer these past few months and I…”
“Grissom,”
she finally succeeded in interrupting him, placing the fingers of her free hand
against his lips. “You seem to have contracted my habit of over-talking.”
“Sara…”
“Griss,
if you want to move forward with me?” she said, her eyes burning into his.
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
It
took a moment before the surprise on his face melted away, leaving behind
relief and no small amount of desire in its place. Leaning towards her, he
brushed his lips against hers in a gentle caress. One last look in her eyes to
ensure this was what she wanted; he finally threw down the last of his caution
and leant in to deepen the kiss.
More
than five years of pent-up sexual tension crackled between them, finally being
released. She wrapped her arms around him tightly now that she finally could,
her lips tingling at the sensation of his beard against them.
His
tongue stroked against her own and she was lost, dizzy with desire and she
shifted her weight so that she was underneath him slightly. He turned his
attention to her neck, and she hummed and moaned and begged for more with every
touch of her fingers against his back.
As
he traced the contours of her neck with his tongue, his hand moved to caress
the small area of exposed flesh between her sweater and her jeans. Meeting no
resistance, he slid his hand up further, finding her skin feverishly hot. He moved
back to her lips and kissed her deeply.
He
had lost track of how long they’d been kissing when the demon of sense overtook
him. Giving her one more, almost chaste (in the light of their previous
activities) kiss, he drew back slightly and looked at her. She lay beneath him,
her lips slightly swollen, looking completely beautiful.
“What’s
wrong,” she asked.
Reaching
out, he brushed an errant strand hair from her face. “I don’t want you to feel
like we have to rush into anything.”
To
his great surprise, she laughed. “Grissom, how long have we been dancing around
the subject of ‘Us’?” she asked. “It’s been what? A little over five years
since I moved to Vegas. And you’re afraid we’re rushing?”
“Yes
but…” he stooped to kiss the tip of her nose. “It was five years of me being a
jackass.”
She
smirked. “True. But the past six months or so? They’ve been good, right?”
“Yes,
but…”
“And
we’ve gone out to dinner a lot, watched movies…”
He
waited for her to reach her point.
“Sounds
an awful lot like dating to me,” she told him. “Six months of dating could
hardly be considered ‘rushing’. Unless…” her eyes searched his face, suddenly
worried. “Unless you’re not ready.”
His
smile dismissed her fears. “Oh, I’m ready. I’m definitely ready,” he said, kissing her again. “But…”
Not
letting him finish, she scrambled from beneath him and moved towards the
bedroom door. “Good. Because I think we’ve waited long enough. Don’t you?”
He
got up and followed her, unable to disguise the desire in his eyes. And yet,
part of him still felt like he should hold back, still afraid he was rushing
her, still feeling unworthy of having her this completely. “Sara… are you
sure…?”
She
took both of his hands in hers. “Grissom,” she said, her voice smoldering with
desire. “Come and unwrap the rest of your Christmas present.”
The End…
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