| Grissom and Natasha walked inside of Chantera and were approached by a hostess. "Gil Grissom?" she asked, holding a pad and Grissom nodded. "Yes," I replied and followed her, Natasha's hand loosely in mine. Guiding us to the to the table, the hostess sat us down in the small, close booth and handed us menus. "Order when you're ready," she advised, tossing a smile before walking away. Opening the menu, the smaller woman peered over top, raising an eyebrow. "That was fun," she said and I opened my own menu, blinking. "What was?" "The hostess was staring at your butt the whole time," she replied chuckling and I blinked, staring at her. "Really? How do you know that?" Raising one shoulder, she smiled a little. "I'm a woman." "The eternal answer," I sighed and looked around the menu. "Do you like the place?" Natasha looked around, eyeing the velvet curtains and small booths. "Nice, very VIP-ish," she said before her eyes settled back on me. "Thank you." I gave her a smile. "You're welcome...I should be thanking you, though." "Why?" "For today...with Sara..." I trailed off and she shook her head. "It was no problem," Natasha said nonchalantly. "I was...apprehensive at first around her but I forgot one thing: she's human too. After that, it was fine." Continuing to study the menu, I didn't take my eyes off of her. "You're very honest, Natasha." "After 7 months, you just noticed that?" she asked. "No...I realized it the moment I met you," I explained, making a decision and closing the menu. "You were quite frank always...I appreciate that." Brown eyes connected with mine curiously and she closed her menu as well. "Since we're being honest, what else did you think?" she asked, putting her chin on her fist. Considering for a moment, I rubbed the bridge of my nose under my glasses. "That you were young, highly intelligent...mysterious in your own way," I thought outloud. "You knew me and I had to hardly say a word. That scared me a little. Acutally a lot. But something...drew me to you...I couldn't explain it." I took a drink of water, closing my eyes before opening them again. "Now it's your turn." "Mine?" she quipped and she took a breath. "You were also intelligent, highly so, very analytical. Driven and...distant. Your eyes gave you away though; after I looked, I realized you weren't as cold as I thought you were. You intrigued me, deeply so." I put the glass down. "My eyes?" I questioned. "Yes...they're the color of Lake Meade in a storm. Deep, soulful. They're beautiful," she smiled embaressedly. Blushing, I leaned closer, taking her hand across the table. "They thank you," I replied, taking her hand. "I never pay attention to them other than to put my glasses on." "You should. They're one of your best features." 'She can still make me blush,' I thought, stroking the soft skin of the top of her hand with my thumb, a stark contrast to the callouses on her palm. "A study in contrast," I remarked and she blinked. "What do you mean?" "You've blended two different cultures, play sports but yet you're poetic, passionate and observant..." I trailed off and Natasha's hair fell over her shoulders as she let it hide her light blush. "I try to not be one dimentional," she said softly. "I have to see both sides of the coin always...since we're still being honest," she inquired. "What were you thinking the first time we..." I grinned. "I didn't know I was thinking," I said coyly and she laughed, covering her mouth. "Bad scientist," she said through her giggles and I took off my glasses. 'I don't really need them except for reading anyway...' "Honestly, I was thinking...I was nervous, I didn't what to hurt you. I...was a little afraid that I wasn't making the right decision; that it might be too soon. Mostly I was thinking how much I wanted you..." A darker blush crossed her cheeks and I sat up as the hostress came back. "Can I intrest either of you in our house wine? Red wine, California 1978," she asked and I raised a hand. "I'm driving," I answered. 'And Natasha isn't 21...irony...' "But thank you; that was a very good year." Next |