DISCLAIMER: Not mine, I'd treat them better. CSI and its characters belong are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. With whom all rights remain.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Shirt warning: Contains one truly hideous garment. Not my fault. I have much better taste in clothes.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: For season six finale.
The Big Day
By Jac H.
"I'm not ready to say goodbye." Sara remained kneeling for a short time before rising to stand in front of the hotel room's picture window. Not knowing what to say next but deciding that continuing his discussion on the subject of dying was probably inappropriate Grissom remained quiet.
Still gazing out of the window Sara addressed his reflection. "Do you really think we're doing the right thing?"
"Absolutely, Sara. It's time, past time really."
"Oh, I didn't mean by doing it, I meant doing it now, today, with everything that's happened recently. Do you think this is appropriate?"
Grissom sat upright and placed his feet flat on the floor.
Sara gave him no chance to answer her question as she turned and paced restlessly across the room to stand before the mirror. "I mean look at me, I'm no catch."
"Sara you are a beautiful woman. Especially today."
"What about this outfit? Is it alright?" She strode to the garment bag which was hanging on the closet door. "It's too much isn't it? I should have..."
"Sara."
"And the room. It's not right is it? I shouldn't have brought the photos with me. They're wrong. Should I have booked the honeymoon suite?"
"Sara!"
"Oh God, I should have, shouldn't I?"
"SARA!"
Sara stopped pacing somewhat shocked by the volume Grissom had managed to achieve while still sitting casually on the bed.
"Sara sit down." Sara sat. "Everything is fine. The room is fine. The pictures are fine. The day is fine. The champagne would probably have been better if it was the '89 rather than the '88 but it's still excellent. Everything is perfect. Trust me. I'm a doctor."
It was a weak attempt at humour but it was enough to startle Sara out of her funk and she laughed. "I'm panicking aren't I?"
Grissom smiled. "Just a little."
"It's just... I wanted everything to be perfect, you know."
"Sara, everything is more than perfect. Now go and do your hair and get ready."
Sara started to obey. "The ring! Oh God! Where's the ring. Gris, where's the ring, have you..."
"Sara! I've got the ring. Look, it's right here." He stood and fumbling in his pocket produced a jeweller's box which he opened. Nestling on the crimson velvet was a delicate gold band bearing a single, sparking, sapphire.
Sara relaxed briefly. Then began tensing again. Before she could begin another spell of hyperactivity and hyperventilation Grissom pushed her back towards the bathroom she had so recently left.
"Hair, make-up, dress."
Sara obeyed.
Slightly under half an hour later she returned. Her make-up perfect, her hair slightly curled and beautifully styled. The pale cream silk pantsuit fitted her like a dream. She shone. It took him a full minute to regain his equilibrium enough to speak.
"Sara. I have never seen a more lovely bride. You are stunning. Sofia is a lucky woman." Sara smiled shyly. The smile turned in to a full on grin as she thought of the woman downstairs, dressed in a matching suit but in a deep midnight blue. Waiting for her; her!
"I'm the lucky one, Gris." She started towards the door then stopped and turned to face him.
"Gris, one thing.." Gil raised an eyebrow. "This is my wedding day. If you're going to give the bride away you are so not doing it in that hideous shirt. Change."
The End