Kinky

Chapter Seven

“So how did you meet Grissom’s father?”

Sara had happened across Anne looking through the photo albums again. This time, though, Anne had invited her to sit with her and had proceeded to show her the pictures from the beginning. They were all old and faded, but as neatly presented as she would expect from a Grissom. There were numerous smiling pictures of Grissom as an adorable little boy with Anne, only making the small few of Grissom’s dad stand out even more. Grissom was doubtlessly the image of his father, but his eyes could only have been an inheritance from Anne.

“Gil?” Anne asked softly, eyes sparkling with memories. For a moment she let a smile blossom slowly on her lips, allowing her thoughts to gather, and then she began, telling it like a favourite story; which it probably was.

“It was 1949, I was working as I was working in my parent’s bed and breakfast at the time. Just eighteen, a slip of a girl really. Back then I was stepping out with Jimmy Wainwright. I thought I’d end up marrying the boy too, right up until Gil showed up on my parents’ front porch. He arrived with three other boys, all of them just turned twenty one, wanting a room for the weekend on their way to basic training. There was a small military base about twenty miles away, long since closed now, and every boy in a radius ten times wanted to sign up to be a hero.” She huffed a little laugh to show her opinion of that.

“Now, believe it or not, I was quite a looker back in those days, and a bit of a madam besides.” She continued with a wink. “When Gil walked into my life and my parents’ bed and breakfast that day, I made the decision then and there that he would be my beau. Of course he hardly gave me a second look, just flashed me a smile and a pair of the darkest brown eyes I’d ever seen, but inside that weekend I caught his attention and he won my heart.” Anne was tenderly stroking her husband’s picture, as if actually touching his face.

“We were married within six months, and a year later Gilbert was born. We were living at the barracks by then, in the married digs. Gil loved the military life so much; he loved the order and the routine. He believed that everything in life had its place. Sometimes Gilbert is so like him…” There was such an air of wistfulness in Anne’s voice that Sara hardly dared to breathe in case she ruined the moment. As it was, the moment ended regardless. Anne’s mouth curled in a bitter smile as she continued to speak.

“It made everything so much harder on him later on. He dearly wanted to be proud of us, but by then he was military through and through. I never doubted that he loved us, but he stopped taking us to family get-togethers at the base, he couldn’t stand having to explain my deafness. For a while I thought he would take Gilbert under his wing, and at first he tried. He would take Gilbert fishing with his friends and watch mortified as his son paid more interest in the worms he used as bait. He did love us in his own way, but it didn’t stop him being ashamed of us, and the guilt led him to drink. In the end they discharged him from the army, ostensibly to grieve his mother who had just passed away, but only a family friendship with Coronel Simms himself saved his name. From that moment he did nothing all day but drink himself into an early grave, earlier than anyone could have predicted. I was left a widow at twenty eight, with a son of nine. Gilbert always looked up to his father so much; I’ve often felt like a poor substitute…” Anne trailed off, her emotions suddenly overcoming her. Sara drew her in for a warm hug.

“Grissom’s lucky to have you.” Silence stretched between them as Sara reached for a nearby box of tissues to offer Anne.

“You don’t have much to do with your family any more, do you?” Sara stared into the older woman’s piercing eyes, once again rendered speechless by her natural intuition. More than that, where Grissom’s astuteness led to awkwardness and silences, his mother’s permitted careful words and sharing of feelings long suppressed.

“My father died when I was young too.” She said carefully. She hated having to share this with people as a part of who she was. Why couldn’t she be Sara without it? “My mom killed him, and I got put into foster care.” She ground out the hated words, and sat back waiting for judgement to be passed as it inevitably always was. What she saw in Anne’s eyes was something new though; it was the recognition of someone who had had to fight for everything in life, the recognition of a fellow survivor. She didn’t offer fake sympathy, she just squeezed Sara’s hand and smoothly moved on.

“Now that reminds me. There was something I wanted to give you for the party. Being the hardworking, sensible woman I know you are, I highly doubt you will have frittered away your money on anything but the essentials.” Anne produced a slightly faded velvet box that opened to reveal a beautifully elegant gold necklace that was set with diamonds and matching diamond earrings.

“Anne, what is this?” Sara asked incredulously. Her hand was trembling in the air above it, too scared to touch it.

“I believe it’s called ‘bling’, my dear.” The older lady replied with a chuckle.

“I couldn’t possibly…” Sara started, but Anne effectively ignored her.

“Gil gave them to me on our wedding night. I never did find out how he afforded them… It’s about time they had the chance to sparkle again.” Both women had tears in their eyes now. What had started as an unlikely companionship had developed into a deep yet fragile friendship. Sara found herself wishing Anne would never return home. With her here, she had gotten her first hint of what family could be like, plus her friendship with Grissom was stronger than ever. Suddenly everything seemed to be falling into place. Who knew what tonight’s party may bring? She had never been one to believe in miracles or magic, but then again, it was Christmas.

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Sara made a final lap of the house, feeling a momentary swell of pride. Despite her reservations, she and Anne had elegantly decorated the place, creating a homely atmosphere that was better suited to the first party it had ever hosted. A deep green Christmas tree dominated one corner with plenty of room for more presents to join those already laid out. Her gift to Grissom took pride of place. It was the result of countless hours wandering lost in various book stores, and she could hardly wait to see the look on his face when he opened it. The bright baubles and decorations shimmered in the soft light that the many candles and fairy lights gave. Sara could hardly contain herself. She held in a squeal of delight, feeling for all the world like it was her first family Christmas. The only thing missing now were the guests and Grissom. Her eyes flicked nervously to her watch for the hundredth time. He had promised Anne faithfully that he would be home in time for the party. His mother seemed to take it in her stride though, as she put the finishing touches to enough desserts to end the world hunger crisis. One too many forays in the kitchen had resulted in Sara being dispatched on her current mission to check everything was ready.

The doorbell rang. Sara’s eyes met Anne’s in nervous excitement. Sara stepped forward to answer the door, but froze after a step forward, remembering that it was not her home. Anne smiled warmly at her, accurately reading her excitement to mean the arrival of guests.

“You answer it, my girl. You’re hosting this party as much as me, and probably more so than Gilbert.” Sara practically bounced to the door, stopping to smooth her dress nervously before opening it to invite the first guests in.

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Sara wandered around the party, pretending that she hadn’t even noticed Grissom’s absence. She should have known he would find a way to avoid coming. Warrick had arrived half an hour ago, full of apologies, and informed them that Grissom had been unavoidably detained with some new evidence from the latest scene. Apparently the seventh crime had been against seven ballerinas from Swan Lake, which the Russian Ballet Company was in town to perform. Warrick had reported that there had been a hit on several escort users from the company that some of the previous girls had been hired from and they had spent much of the shift going over profiles of the new suspects. He also dutifully passed on Grissom’s apologies for his lateness. The slight cringe that accompanied his words might have betrayed his true thoughts, but Sara knew Warrick’s loyalty to his boss would never allow him to criticise him openly.

She made her way to the drinks table, hoping to find something to help erase her disappointment. Greg had designated himself bartender early on in the night and seemed to think he was Tom Cruise in Cocktail, precariously throwing drinks and bottles around. Suddenly the plastic cups had come into their own. As she got closer to the table Sara saw Lindsey approach Greg with a slink in her step.

“Hey Greg. Can you make me a drink?” Lindsey fluttered her eyelashes at him, the very image of her mother, and Sara had to hold in a snort of laughter as she backed away to watch the scene play out.

“What can I get you, little lady?” Greg asked, all charming and debonair. He really was taking this Tom Cruise thing a little too far.

“Vodka and soda.” She commanded, one hand on hip, as if the possibility of being denied had never crossed her mind. Being a Willows; perhaps it never had.

“One soda, coming right up.” Greg winked at her.

“Vodka and soda, or I tell Mom how you’ve been talking to my top all night.” Greg’s face was the picture of shock as Lindsey helped herself to a contraband drink with a cheeky little smile on her face. There was no doubt whatsoever that she was Catherine’s daughter. Sara couldn’t hear what he muttered, but the red flush that painted Greg’s cheeks all the way up to his ears spoke for itself. Sara moved to the table as Lindsey sashayed away.

“She is still sixteen, right?” Was Greg’s anxious greeting.

“Fifteen and a half.” Sara corrected with a commiserating grin.

“I’m going to hell. And prison.” Greg shook his head in wide-eyed disbelief as he shakily downed the remnants of his drink.

“And that’s only if Catherine doesn’t find you first.” Sara couldn’t help teasing.

The two of them slipped into easy silence as they watched the party happening around them. Warrick’s arrival had prompted the start of the dancing, with Catherine grabbing him almost as soon as he had a foot in the door. Now they were swaying together, hardly moving at all, with her head rested against his chest. Somehow Sara doubted that Tina’s absence was a coincidence. She felt a pang of sadness for Catherine. There was obviously something between the two of them, but their relationship made even her and Grissom look uncomplicated.

Ever the gentleman, Nick had asked Anne to dance. She had eventually agreed after much persuasion on Nick’s part, before not so subtly suggesting Mandy might like to take her place. Now the two of them were rigidly dancing, diligently looking everywhere but at each other. Even Wendy and Hodges seemed to be getting along for once. Sara leant back against the wall with a sigh. She almost wished Mark was here so she didn’t feel so lonely. He had sent his apologies; he was spending the evening with his daughter, very likely the only one he would get during the holidays. She excused herself to Greg and made her way to the bathroom for a pep talk. Just as she was nearing the door it swung open to reveal a tired-looking Grissom arriving home.

“Hi.” Sara said quietly.

“Hi.” Grissom replied, not really seeing her as he strode into the main living room. Sara followed him in expectantly, excited to see his reaction to the decorating in spite of his lateness.

“Wow.” Grissom felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Sara looked as if she had stepped out of one of his wildest fantasies, all sultry seduction in a dress that reverently clung to every delicious curve. It took him a moment to register the unfamiliar scene in front of him. He hardly recognised it as his home. Somehow it had been transformed into the essence of Christmas, filled with his family and closest friends. Grissom felt himself choke up, and fought desperately to maintain his poker face.

“What do you think?” Sara’s soft words assailed him from behind.

“I- I think it looks amazing. Thanks for going to so much trouble, mom.” Grissom ignored the tense looks that flashed amongst the group. It had been no secret that Sara had put in a great amount of time and effort into making the party perfect for everyone. He just couldn’t trust himself to talk to her; hell even to look at her would be a challenge without fortification. As if by magic the drinks table appeared in front of him, and a large scotch poured itself before he continued his hasty retreat to the kitchen. Once there Grissom instantly realised his mistake. Anne closed the door behind them with a look on her face that he had not seen since he had tried to persuade an ant colony to set up home on a corner of the living room carpet. His mother folded her arms as she had done then and waited out his explanation.

//Mom, I’ve had a really hard shift.// Grissom signed, hoping to play on her sympathy.

//Gilbert Grissom, don’t think you’re too big to feel the back of my hand.// His mother signed furiously back.

“Actually, Mom, I rather think…” Grissom started to say with a grin, saying the words aloud as a lingering rebellious trait from teenage years, but Anne raised her hand causing him to flinch, and his words to falter. She lowered her hand again, point made.

//The way you treat her, I’m not so sure you really deserve that girl.// The scrutinising glare that swept over him kept Grissom paralysed for a few moments after his mother had left the kitchen door swinging from her departure.

Finally Grissom decided to slink his way back into the party, tail between his legs. He found a replacement scotch, and turned in time to see his mother talking to Sara surreptitiously in a corner away from the other guests. This time shock overcame all his other emotions as Grissom strode over to them.

“You can sign!” The gasped words ended their conversation and for some reason brought a knowing smile to each of their faces.

//Yes. I can.// Sara signed proudly. //Your mom teach me.// She continued with stilted but understandable signs.

“But it’s only been a week.” Grissom was incredulous. It didn’t help that the two women looked to be on the verge of bursting into hysterical laughter.

//I learn simple signs after deaf school, Gil. I don’t like being stupid. Anne help me be better.//

“What did you call me?” His voice took on a hushed tone, and Anne tactfully moved away. Sara recreated the signs with her fingers. //G. I. L.//

“I guess I got it from your mom.” She explained shyly. Grissom just nodded and took a mouthful of scotch. The empty glass gave him an excuse to flee before he embarrassed himself any further. He had been right about this party all along, nothing but meddling and womenfolk. Where was Brass when you needed him? He would help neutralise the oestrogen or whatever it was in the air that was turning every man except Greg into a whipped pup. Grissom caught Lindsey’s flirtatious wink that was followed quickly by the disappearance of Greg’s drink. Where the hell was Brass?

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Grissom walked out onto the terrace where Sara was standing with her back to him, staring at the lights of the Strip in the distance. A board creaked under his foot and he noticed a slight stiffening in Sara’s posture; the only indication that she had heard his arrival.

“You really have the most amazing view here.” She said finally, without turning to face him.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Grissom agreed, not looking entirely at the view. A long moment passed in glorious silence. Finally Sara turned to face him.

“I was just clearing away the decorations from out here. I think I got everything.” She took a step towards him, expecting him to move aside so she could go back inside. Grissom did not move though, reaching instead for a final decoration that was hanging innocently between them.

“Mistletoe.” He murmured.

“Oh, I must have missed it.” Sara inwardly cursed herself, suddenly feeling intensely awkward. Grissom’s hand stopped mid-air as he released the decoration, holding it deliberately above her head. Sara felt sick to the stomach. Usually he went all out to avoid any situation that was remotely suggestive when she was around. What the hell had gotten into him?

Grissom felt like his body was moving of its own accord. It wasn’t his body that blocked her retreat indoors, nor were they his hands that grabbed the decoration down. Blushing furiously, Sara tried to gloss over the mortification of the moment by making the first move. It was obvious that Grissom was not willing to do so.

“Merry Christmas, Griss.” She leant slowly but purposefully towards his cheek so he would not freak out at her platonic kiss. As her lips neared the fuzzy stubble of their destination, at the last minute Grissom turned his head towards her, catching them in a soft sweep of a kiss. Sara’s breath hitched deliciously on contact and suddenly Grissom was feeling every last spark of erotic electricity that leapt between them, the reality of the situation hitting him hard with the slow sensual slide of their lips. Oh, they were definitely his lips that kissed her.

Just then the full box of decorations that had been resting on one of the chairs was sent crashing to the floor. Grissom and Sara jumped apart like guilty teenagers, whirling around to see who had caught them. Hank’s brown, uncompromising stare met theirs levelly, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the leash in his mouth. Grissom and Sara both chuckled in relief.

“Well it looks like you have a prior engagement, so I should probably head home.” Sara gave him a small unsure smile.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Came the rueful reply.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” As she closed the door, Grissom found himself touching his fingertips to his lips, which still tingled from Sara’s gentle kiss.