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"This is the worst case I've ever been on and that includes the one that made me smell like a corpse for four days."
Grissom merely stared ahead; his eyes fixated on the road. Not because he was driving, but because they were sitting on the shoulder waiting for the courtesy car that had yet to arrive. A rental car that was necessitated because their Tahoe was incapacitated behind them, a victim of a complete power failure. It was frustrating, but not nearly as disruptive as the woman sitting beside him. Sara had been venting for the better part of three hours. He couldn't blame her; they had been three hours spent in intense heat on the side of the interstate. Add to that the fact that they were already looking for an exit to find a bathroom and food as it was and he could see where it would make her irritable. He was irritable himself, but had long ago learned to sublimate his emotions. Which was good for Sara because otherwise he would have pushed her into traffic long ago.
"Grissom? Have you heard a word I said?" Sara asked, brushing her damp, limp hair off her face.
"You mentioned something about a corpse." Grissom said, never breaking his gaze from the road.
Sara shook her head. "Why am I not surprised? I hope if you ever walk in front of a truck I remember to yell "Stop, corpse!" because that's the only way you'd ever save yourself."
Grissom started to respond when headlights flashed in front of them. Their ride had finally arrived. They had been returning from a consult 200 miles from Vegas when they had the breakdown. Since they were out of their own juridiction they had to hire an independent towing company. A very slow towing company from all indications.
They climbed into the back seat of the car. Grissom thanked the driver while Sara fashioned a pillow out of her jacket. She had folded her 5'9" frame into her side of the seat; her eyes already closed. Grissom smiled, not just at the sight, but because this was the first time she had been quiet in several hours. Hearing her breathing slow, he took her feet and extended them across his lap. She didn't need leg cramps on top of everything else, he reasoned.
Thirty minutes later they arrived at the motel. Sara waited outside the office while Grissom went to register. They had talked to the mechanic who had confirmed it would be well into the next day before they were able to get back in their own vehicle.
"Rooms 219 and 220." Grissom offered a key to Sara who looked at it and scowled.
"I want 220," Sara stated, handing the key back.
He just stared at her and switched the keys. "Come on." He motioned to the rental car.
"Where are we going?"
"Food."
For the first time that evening Sara granted him with the big smile. Things were looking up.
They found a nearby mall, bypassing the standard fast food fare in order to give them a broader range of choices at the food court.
"Look, Sara. Twenty-two choices of restaurants. There has to be a...Veggie Hut...of some sort."
"I'll stick with Japanese, thanks. Good luck finding anything with bugs!" Sara chirped, making a beeline for Miss Sakura. Grissom looked on in amusement before heading towards the Chick-fil-A, wondering why people thought that joke just kept getting funnier.
Twenty minutes later they had almost finished their meal. Grissom was pleased to see some color go back into Sara's face. The food had obviously helped a great deal.
"You want my spring roll?" Sara asked, pushing her tray towards him.
He lifted his hand in dissent and nodded his thanks.
"Your loss." She smirked and continued. "We need clothes."
"Excuse me?" Grissom asked, startled by the change of subject.
"Clothes. To wear. We're stuck here for another day and I can't live with myself smelling this way. I'm sure you can't either," she added with a 'sorry to break it to you' look.
"Oh." Grissom processed this. He looked at Sara's attire. She was clad in a camo print top, black cargo pants, and brown ankle boots. Typical Sara. "Where do you buy that?"
Sara mock-glared at him. "I'll find something. Now let's get you to Sears."
"I do not shop at Sears."
But Sara was already fifty feet ahead of him. He thought the day had been long.
Grissom sat on a bench outside a pretzel stand near which Sara had left him 15 minutes ago. He was mildly afraid of the store she had chosen. The place emanated a purple glow, smelled of incense, and instead of a name a symbol of some sort was plastered above the door. He knew she generally shopped catalogs; he had no idea why her face lit up when she found it. She had offered to take him in there with her, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to go underwear shopping with Sara. His thoughts often went into the slightly-less-than-professional realm as it was nowadays, but there are lines you just don't cross.
She returned, large bag in hand. "Okay. Your turn."
"That was fast. What all did you get?" He asked, gesturing to her bag. "And what would you call that color?" There was a bit of fabric extending over the lip of the bag.
"It's work appropriate."
"What's not work appropriate for you?" Grissom knew Sara paid very little attention to her wardrobe. He actually admired that in her. He did often wonder at the ensembles she tended to put together, however.
"Pajamas. I got those too."
"Ah." They walked through the semi-crowded breezeway towards the opposite end of the mall. Grissom was actually beginning to enjoy their little excursion. He realized he hadn't spent any time with Sara out of a work environment since San Francisco several years before. They had attended a party together, strictly as lab associates. It was most memorable to him because it had been the one time he had seen his younger colleague in a dress. His train of thought were broken when Sara next spoke.
"Look, Grissom. Victoria's Secret. Remember?" Sara waggled her eyebrows, actually cackling as Grissom veered away from the pink frontage of the store to their right.
"Remind me never to take you anywhere where they include monosodium glutamate in their food again, Sara." Grissom eyed her warily. She was acting uncharacteristically, but it was a novel change. He realized it was the focused pot calling the kettle black, but Sara tended to be somewhat socially inept.
"Here we are!" Sara had stopped in front of a brightly lit glass window.
"No."
"What's wrong with it?"
Grissom looked like someone had just offered free extermination services for his office. "Sara."
Sara was grinning broadly now. "There is nothing wrong with this place."
"It's the Gap."
"You're quite the investigator. Let's go in." Sara was already through the entrance before Grissom could further a protest. Narrowing his eyes he followed her in.
The salesperson started to approach Sara, but took one good look at her bedraggled appearance and halted with a look of thinly veiled apprehension. Sara returned the look in kind and pushed through the racks to the mens' department. "Grissom!" she called, a bit too loudly.
Grissom gave the woman, now behind the desk, a 'what can you do' expression and joined Sara at the back wall. She wasted no time.
"Okay. You need pants and a shirt, obviously." Sara stated, scanning the racks. "And boxers, but you can pick those out."
"I appreciate that." Grissom just watched as she worked, both amused and uncomfortable.
"Here we go. 38." She pulled out a pair of black pants, relatively close to the pair Grissom was wearing at the moment.
"Grissom stared now, confused. "How did you know my size?"
Sara just smiled enigmatically and moved to an adjacent rack. She grabbed a long sleeve blue button down and handed it to him. "I like this one."
"I don't tend to wear blue."
"It looks good with your eyes." Sara looked at him, then averted her gaze.
Grissom had no response for that; the temperature in the room seemed to raise ten degrees suddenly. He met Sara's eyes again. "I'll take it."
Sara graced him with a quick grin. "Well, I guess my work is done. I'm going to grab a soda before the mall closes. Can I get you one?"
"No, but thanks." Grissom watched her leave the store and graced her back with a barely perceptible smile.
Maybe the car breaking down wasn't such a bad thing after all.
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