Remembering Forward Again
Chapter 8
Author's Note: Arrrg. I wanted to have this finished right after the last chapter, but RL got in the way. But here it is: the last chapter of this little series. For those of you still reading, I thank you. Thank you for your support and wonderful reviews.
The EllipsesBandit has once again worked her kung fu awesomeness on my fic. She is my Punctuation Princess and gives me my impromptu lessons in syntax. She's truly the greatest. Thank you, bud :)
Mingsmommy deserves a big plate of cookies and waffles (my specialty) for all of her time and effort. She's the Description Diva when I need the help. Thank you very much.
Grissom sighed again, and rolled to his back on the mattress. He'd spent the last hour alternating between staring at the wall on his right (the hems on the curtains were uneven), watching Sara sleep (her nose twitched seven times), and observing the ceiling fan (it took about three seconds for a full revolution). Sleep eluded him this afternoon, and he couldn't figure out why.
He didn't have any coffee with breakfast. There were no pending cases at the lab, and Ecklie hadn't been after him about paperwork. The last case he worked was a bank robbery. He'd taken no medication before he went to bed. Logic told him the insomnia wasn't due to caffeine, stress, or drugs.
Perhaps it had something to do with the bed, but the mattress was firm enough and his pillow was just the right amount of softness. The only things left were his bedmates.
Trigger lay sprawled at the end of the bed, snoring softly. The snoring wasn't bothersome; Grissom had gotten used to the dog's quiet wheezing sound. His feet had occasionally brushed against the boxer's legs which was normally not a problem except Grissom could feel the rough paws scratch his skin because there was no sheet or comforter covering him.
Somehow Sara managed to tightly cocoon herself in the entirety of both the sheet and comforter, leaving nothing for Grissom. She'd been sleeping peacefully, having never woken up once. When he tried tugging the material, she frowned in her sleep, and clutched the blankets closer.
Letting out a deep breath, he shook his head. During their time together, he'd only rarely encountered this cover hog. Had he known in the beginning, he would've have insisted they buy more blankets.
July 2005
At 2:57am Grissom threw the dish cloth over his shoulder and looked through the kitchen once last time to make sure he had everything. The popcorn had just been seasoned, and sat in a bowl on the counter. The brownies had just been pulled from the oven, and were now cooling off. Glancing toward the living room, he saw the blankets and pillows he'd set out earlier. He nodded to himself, knowing everything was ready.
When he asked if she wanted to do anything on their night off, she suggested they just relax, watching movies. And as a part of his effort to be more open with her, he offered to let their date be at his townhouse.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Grissom quickly wiped his hands on the towel before opening it. He found Sara, two bags in hand, with twinkling brown eyes and a bright smile. A pleasant warmth settled around his heart; no one, but her, had ever been so happy every time they saw him. After they greeted each other, she followed him inside, setting the bags on the dining room table. It was then Grissom kissed her sweetly simply because he wanted to.
When they parted, her grin widened, and he couldn't help but mirror it with his own crooked smile.
"I picked up some root beer on the way over, and the DVDs are in the other bag," she told him.
He nodded. "I made some snacks, and pizza will be here in twenty-five minutes."
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "You? Mr. Everything-Has-to-be-Homemade, actually ordered a pizza." Cocking her head to the side, she pondered amusingly, "Did you not have enough time to grow the wheat for the dough?"
"No." Walking over to the refrigerator, he placed the soda inside. "The tomatoes on the vine weren't quite ripe yet." When he came back, he placed his hand on the other bag. "So what's on today's theatre schedule?"
She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. "It's just some movies I brought from my house." Then she quickly added, "But we can watch something else if you don't like those."
Her shyness didn't surprise him. Sara had revealed pieces of herself during the last month, however she always seemed slightly uncomfortable doing so; it was as if she were afraid of his reaction to her life. Early on, he decided never to push and to make her feel at ease talking to him.
Grissom quirked an eyebrow as a silent question to open the bag. She inclined her head in acceptance and he pulled out the DVDs. As he went through the small stack, he noticed all of the covers depicted cartoon characters. He recognized only two titles: Monsters, Inc. and Shrek. The first because it was one of the movies he and Lindsey had seen together and the second because several lab technicians quoted the film for weeks.
His lips rose slightly. "I never would've taken you for a children's movie fan."
"Yeah…well…" Her face colored slightly. "It's all Greg's fault."
Both eyebrows rose this time. "How's that?"
"It was right after the Carpenter case, and he'd just come back to the lab. He kept following me around, telling stupid jokes and trying to get me to listen to his music; claimed I was in some sort of funk." She clarified, "You know, because of the lab explosion."
And perhaps because of some idiot entomologist turning down your dinner invitation, his brain so thoughtfully reminded him.
"Finally, he told me he had the perfect cure. He had two tickets to the opening of Finding Nemo and begged me to go with him."
"We know how persistent he can be."
Smiling in agreement, Sara went on, "Greg hounded me for five days; five days of text messages, voicemails, and pages to his lab. I told him it would look ridiculous for two adults to see a kid's movie to which he informed me there would be plenty of other people there for the purpose of connecting with their inner child.
"He tried to sweeten the deal by saying he would pay for everything. Even said he'd buy me the biggest tub of popcorn tub there was. All that he wanted was to hang out with his friend." Shaking her head, she let out a short breath. "Of course I couldn't turn him down after he said that."
Grissom felt a slight pang of jealousy. It should have been him taking her to the movie. Okay, maybe not that movie, but perhaps they would have gone to a museum or dinner like she suggested. Instead, Greg had been there for her; he was the one who hadn't been afraid, and therefore got to share something special with Sara. Grissom reminded himself she was there now, but he couldn't help the slight resentment toward the young man.
"So I went with Greg and…" She stopped for a moment as if she tried to think of her next words. "I don't know…I found the movie relaxing. There was no blood or violence or graphic death. Just…fun."
She looked down, grinning shyly. "It was...fish trying to escape from a tank and sharks who didn't want to eat other fish and…" She chuckled lightly. "That sounds stupid doesn't it?"
"Not at all." Grissom gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Many people find their escape through movies whether it's westerns or fantasy or through talking fish." His last comment caused her to look at him with a warm expression. "I think that's why there are many different genres; people hadn't found the one that suited them so they thought of new settings and characters."
"I like that." Sara nodded as she concurred. "After the movie, Greg just walked out with this smug smile, the punk." She scowled, but then smirked affectionately. "He knew how much I loved it. I gave in and told him he was welcome to introduce to other movies. The next night he came to me with this long list of kid's films that I absolutely had to see. We spent three months having these movies marathons, and then he finally deemed me caught up."
"Do you still go to the movies with him?"
"Yeah. We've seen everything so far, but nothing as great as The Incredibles. Though Cars looks like it has a lot potential."
While listening to her, Grissom began to suspect she also loved this genre because she got to experience a part of her childhood that she'd previously thought was permanently lost. He didn't know all the details, but he knew everything leading up to her father's death and her life in foster care had not been pleasant at all. Now, Sara had received a chance to regain some of that lost happiness, and she had Greg to thank for it. Greg, her friend. Grissom now saw the former lab rat in a new light; he was indeed a good friend to her for helping her through rough patches and inadvertently giving her a precious gift.
Picking up the DVDs, Grissom studied the titles again. "Which one's your favorite?"
She didn't even stop to think about it. "Finding Nemo."
He pulled the case out of the stack. "We'll start with this one."
"That's okay. We can start with another one." She waved at the movies hastily. "I mean, monsters, superheroes, and ogres are just as interesting as talking fish." She gestured to him. "Besides, I know how you feel about children's films that deal with nature."
Now he was truly puzzled. "I've never had any problems with them."
"Gil," she said with a sweet exasperation, crossing her arms over her chest. "Catherine told everyone about the time you took Lindsey to see A Bug's Life."
He shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about; nothing happened."
"You almost got kicked out of the theatre because you kept going off, rather loudly, about all the factual errors!"
He managed a polite snort before stuttering a few times. Finally he managed, "I'll admit that maybe I shouldn't have said…things loud enough to where it disturbed other people." Grissom paused. "But it was obvious the writers hadn't done any research! The film was teaching children the wrong information on insects. The beetles--"
His rant was stopped when she placed her fingers gently over his mouth. Her deep, brown eyes glinted with humor. "It's just a movie, sweetie, not a Discovery channel documentary. In that world, it's okay for ants and caterpillars to be friends."
"But--"
"It's just a movie."
Her smile; that bright, delightful, wide-mouth smile. The one that made the lines around her mouth and eyes more prominent, but didn't make her look any less beautiful. Sara's smile was all it took for Grissom's resolve to crumble. Here he thought he had an unshakeable loyalty toward his insects, but the second she grinned, he felt himself barely nodding.
"You're rig-you make a good point," he mumbled. "It's just…a…" His jaw tightened. "…movie." A deep breath. "And I would be…fine if we watched your's."
With her eyebrow raised in question, she stared at him with doubtful eyes. "You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
"No side commentary on errors?"
"None."
After a moment of silence, Sara relented, "Okay. But if you decide to point out every little thing that's wrong, I will give you my full analysis of the James Bond films the next time you make me watch them."
He made an internal decision to simply eat popcorn every time he saw an error; he only hoped there was enough of the snack to get through the day.
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As soon as the movie began, Grissom began looking for the errors, but somewhere in the middle, he lost count. It wasn't because the writers had actually done their research or he wasn't an expert about aquatic life. Truthfully, he was more interested in the brunette leaning against him than what was on the television.
They had started just sitting next to each other, but after he returned with glasses of sodas, Sara decided to rest her head on his shoulder. He smiled and lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer. She stretched out beside him, sliding an arm across his torso and the other around his back in a soft hug.
He never pictured himself as one to enjoy cuddling, but she fit so perfectly in his arms. Hearing her occasional giggles made him promise himself he would not waste a moment in trying correcting the otosclerosis, should it return; just so he could always hear the sound of her melodious laughter. With his cheek on the top of her head, he closed his eyes and allowed the fragrance of her hair to invade his senses. If they could stay like this, he'd be willing to sit through an entire day's worth of poorly made nature-based fictional stories.
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"Honey?!"
"What?!"
"Where is my supersuit?!"
"What?!"
"Where is my supersuit?!"
"I-uh, I put it away!"
"Where?!"
"Why do you need to know?!"
For the life of him, Grissom couldn't figure out why he was asking Sara for his supersuit; he hadn't pretended he was a superhero since he was seven years old. It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he realized he had dozed off with a movie still playing. He glanced down to find Sara had fallen asleep too.
He tried to wake her by stroking her arm, but her response was to tighten the arm around him and lean her cheek further into his side. This time he stroked a little more vigorously and she opened her eyes.
She glanced up at him. "What time is it?"
He checked his watch. "It's 11:26."
"I should probably get going then." When she lifted herself away from him, he immediately missed the warmth.
She rubbed her eyes with both hands as if trying to wake herself up. It didn't work though, because her lids slipped shut again.
"Honey, you're way too tired to drive home. Why don't you stay here?" The words were out of his mouth before he realized it, and he could feel his heart rate speed up. Even though they'd been seeing each other for over three weeks, neither had slept over at the other's house. Their relationship had progressed nicely, but he didn't want to mess things up over a miscommunication; his offer only meant her sleeping over, not sleeping over.
There was a sigh of relief. "That sounds great because I am ten seconds from dropping right here."
"So,uh…if you're not comfortable with sharing…" He made a vague gesture to the upstairs. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"What? You don't want to sleep with me?"
"No, not at all!" he immediately shot back. "I want to sleep with you, but I mean…well, not until you're ready…and I don't want you to think…" The words on his lips died when she tilted her head, smirking adorably at him.
"Gil, you're the gentlest man I know; I know you'd never push for anything." She rose to her feet. "I'm really tired. Now I'm hoping we'll go upstairs and you'll lend me some clothes, and then I'm going to bed. And you can come with me or stay down here.
Joining her, he nodded. "Okay."
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While she changed clothes and brushed her teeth in the guest bathroom, Grissom fought his nervousness. It had been a long time since he shared a bed with anyone. He worried that he might snore or accidentally hit her while shifting or steal the covers from her. There was no way to prevent him from possibly disturbing her sleep.
The other contributor to his nervousness was trying to decide what to wear. Normally he slept in only boxers, but he didn't feel comfortable being shirtless in front of her yet. He decided on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. While he waited for Sara, he debated if he needed more pillows. He'd only seen her bedroom once, but he remembered seeing four pillows on the mattress. Thinking she might want more than one, Grissom started searching through his linen closet. Then he wondered if she would need another blanket; it was possible she got cold while she slept. He pulled out two just in case.
Just as he finished inspecting the pillow and blankets for holes and to ensure they were clean, he heard Sara lightly clear her throat.
He thought she looked absolutely beautiful with her make-up removed and her hair slightly tousled. The best feature was her practically drowning in his shirt and sweat pants that were three sizes too big.
"I, uh…" Stopping, she allowed her eyes to rake over him. "Wow."
He pursed his lips in confusion. "What?"
A shy smile came across her face as if she just realized what she had done. "Nothing…I just can't believe…" Sara laughed nervously. "Is that, um, Snoopy on your boxers?"
He silently cursed himself; he'd grabbed the first set of boxers from his drawer without looking at them. Heat slowly rose in his face as he nodded, not daring to look her in the eye.
"Hey, don't be embarrassed," she told him. "I think you look cu-I think the boxers are..." She paused, as if searching for the right words. "I like them."
His lips involuntarily twitched into a slow smile. Still staring at the carpet, he mumbled a "thank you."
She eyed the bedding he had set down. "So you were serious about staying downstairs."
"Actually they're for you." At her creased brow, he clarified. "In here of course. In case you get cold or you don't like the pillows."
"I'll be fine," she chuckled, and he placed the items in the chair by the dresser in case she would need them.
He took a few steps to the window to shut the curtains. When he turned around, he saw her looking slightly apprehensively at the bed.
His gaze must have broken her from her thoughts because she looked up somewhat startled.
"Sorry," she began. "Which side do you…"
"Oh, uh…this side," he said, gesturing to the pillow closest to him. He pulled the dark green blanket and sheets back, and she crawled in the opposite side.
He lay on his back staring at the ceiling, wondering what he should do. Should he just go to sleep? Should he offer to hold her? Should he go ahead and put his arms around her? Thinking it would be best to ask her, he turned his head, she was already sleeping.
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The comforting darkness of the room slowly pulled Grissom out of sleep. As his senses returned, he noticed he felt wonderfully warm and completely relaxed. Looking at the clock, he found the display read 8:48.
He stared at the clock in disbelief. 8:48? He hadn't slept for nine consecutive hours in years. Usually he got about five, maybe six hours sleep. While thinking the clock might be broken, he felt a puff of air on his neck. An unfamiliar, yet welcome weight lay on his collar bone. He looked at his other shoulder and just…stared.
During the afternoon Sara had curled up around him. Her face was about an inch from his. Her left arm was draped over his abdomen, and his legs were entangled with hers. Not to say his limbs weren't equally involved; one of his hands was splayed across her lower back and the other cradled her head.
He watched in astonishment because he'd never seen her sleeping. Sure, he'd found her napping in the break room a few times, but this moment was different. It was as if he'd been given permission to look at her.
The breathing against his neck was slow and deep from her slightly open mouth. Her forehead was wrinkled slightly as if she were studying a set of crime scene photographs. When his fingertips lightly touched her temple, she shifted, rubbing her cheek against his t-shirt. He instantly regretted wearing the shirt because he couldn't help but wonder how her cheek would feel on his bare shoulder. Almost on its own accord, his hand lifted from her head to trail lightly along her arm; the skin was softer and warmer than he'd imagined.
Pressing his lips to her forehead, Grissom wondered, why, why he had waited so long. Had any more time passed, he could have missed this opportunity completely. Sighing, he allowed himself a moment to absorb everything about how she felt so close to him. The kiss must have awakened her because he felt her shift a bit, and he found himself staring in sleepy brown eyes.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Hi," he whispered back.
With no regard for morning breath, Grissom dipped his head to give her a few soft kisses. There was a certain intimacy in having sex, and sharing each other's bodies. But true intimacy came from sharing his time and his space with the warm brunette cuddled close to him. It was having her in the same bed with him; being close together in vulnerable positions and seeing the other's "bed head" in the evening. More and more, he felt safe enough to keep sharing his life.
Nuzzling his neck, she sank deeper into his embrace. Apparently she had read his mind about staying in bed all night long, and he tightened his arms around her.
"Told you you wanted to sleep with me," she murmured against his neck, and he chuckled deeply.
Their first few months had them always tangled together while sleeping. Some days she would be plastered against his back, nuzzling his neck. Other times he spooned behind her with their fingers entwined, and their hands held at her chest. Or his personal favorite; the two of them on their sides, facing each other, with her head tucked under his chin and her arm wrapped around his back. Eventually they moved to their respective sides of the bed, but not without some part of them, a foot or a hand, still touching the other.
Of course, that was near impossible with Sara completely wrapped in the sheets. He tried again, tugging more firmly. Instead of relinquishing her hold, she growled a little and opened her eyes.
"What?" she asked ,obviously annoyed.
"You have all the covers," he whispered. "May I have some?"
"There's plenty for you," she breathed as she closed her eyes.
Grissom sighed. "Sara," he tried again.
There was a "humph" as she uncurled her arm and allowed him some of the blankets. As he covered his legs and part of his waist, Grissom tried to think of why he married this stubborn, nagging, relentless woman.
Just then, she flopped over to his side, her knee coming dangerously close to hitting his groin and her hand covering his mouth and nose. She pressed against him, mumbling "love you" before she fell asleep again.
He thought of the deep kisses she gave him when he returned from out of town trips; how she watched a baseball game with him, even though she wasn't a fan; and how she placed a piece a fruit in his briefcase so he'd have something healthy to snack on at the lab.
Shifting away from her knee, he then removed Sara's hand from his face and placed it over his heart. Grissom's lips formed a small smile as he fell asleep next to his wife.
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The End
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Thank you all for a great and fun year. I'll be going back to school so I don't how much time I'll have to write, but I'm going to try! A big, big fluffy thank you to all you wonderful readers out there; thank you for taking the time to read and review my stuff. You guys are truly awesome :)