| With Grissom following behind me, I unlocked the door and dropped my gym bag next to the counter, putting my trophy on the linolium. "Aren't you going to put it somewhere special?" he inquired and I shrugged, stretching. "It's your house," I quipped, feeling his hands wrap around my waist from behind. "What's mine is yours," Grissom said quietly in my ear. "How would you feel about...moving in?" I blinked, turning around. 'Move in? Well, I'm here usually 5 days out the week...but still...' I gave him a smile. "How do you feel about that?" I inquired. "I'm fine with it...you don't want to?" he asked softly and I stood on tip toe, kissing him. "I never said that...it'll take some doing but I'm ok with it. I just want to keep my place because it's kind of my art studio," I replied and he grinned. "That's great...you showered." Laughing, I tapped him on the nose. "I'm glad you noticed," I said and Grissom blushed. "No...I mean I have to," he said, letting me go, eyes going darker. "I wish you could...come with me..." "If I did, we wouldn't make it to the party." "Problem?" he said innocently and I laughed again, pushing him towards the bathroom. "You. Shower. Now," I instructed. "You smell like embalming fluid." Grissom laughed, grabbing a set of clothes and closing the door. "It's the next Chanel..." he said from the other room and I snorted. "Riiight," I replied and looked for a suitable dress to wear. 'Hm...black works,' I considered, pulling the dress out of Grissom's closet, frowning. 'No, this is the one he bought me; it's special...I need a cocktail dress...' Reaching again, I pulled out a white dress with thin straps that fell to my knees. 'Flowing, not to short but short enough to show some leg.' The polo shirt and khakis were tossed in the hamper and I heard the shower come on, a small smirk appearing on my face in the mirror. 'Hmmm...no, got to get ready,' I chided myself and found a black strapless bra and matching thong, peeling off my boy cut girl boxers and sports bra. 'He wasn't lying when he said I was a study in contrasts...from sports to chic. The things I do for you, Gil.' Standing naked, I squeezed rose scented lotion on my hands, applying it to my legs, arms, feet, and hands before pulling on my underwear and bra. The dress was form fitting until it got past my hips, flowing loose, making me appear more tan than I actually was since it was white. Light eye makeup, lip gloss, deoderant, and a quick brush through my hair and I was almost ready. My stitches stood out, no bruise in sight however; I didn't bruise nor scar easy. 'Irony...' A long white ribbon was turned into a makeshift choaker and I turned to stare at my shoes. 'Boots are so 80's,' I frowned, eyeing the white thigh high boots. 'And pumps, forget it...ok, wrap around stilletos it is.' The heels were clear, connected to thick white ribbons that crossed up my calves. I bent, criss-crossing them and standing now at 5'10. No jewelry, no earrings; my ears weren't pierced, and no rings. "Ready," I said to myself and the shower cut off, blowdryer coming on an instant later. "Men," I rolled my eyes and stalked to the closet again, pulling out a white purse and shrugging. 'These things suck...but I've done worse,' I reasoned. Walking back out to the living room, I shoved my cell phone and wallet in the offensive accessory, sitting it on a stool by the door, plopping myself on the stool next to it. 'This day has been incredible; championship, MVP, now a party with the famous night shift of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. What can be next?' I thought, propping my chin on my fist. The bathroom door opened and I turned to look at Grissom, dressed in all black, hair simple in its usual place. "Well, we're a study in constrast," he said, smiling and I stood. "You look great," I replied as he walked closer and ran a hand down the front of his shirt. "And we're always in contrast." Grissom continued to smile, his fingertips gracing over my collar bone. "A contrast...in many ways," he whispered, kissing my cheek just below my stitches. "Does this feel better?" "Barely feel it," I shrugged, a blush traveling across my face. "Ready?" "Almost." Bending over, he picked up my trophy from the floor and placed it on a shelf next to his degree, the real one, not the copy in his office. "There, now we can go." "Gil, what am I going to do with you?" Another smirk. "I can think of a few ideas..." Next |