The Loophole

Chapter 7

The first thing that Sara did was paint the walls purple, a deep plum hue that looked the same in light and shadow. She and Grissom taped off squares that were to stay white, so that the framed butterflies on the walls would still be visible. The ceiling became a faint shade of lilac, and Grissom was pretty sure at this point that he was whipped.

They threw out both of their couches and bought two new ones, long enough to fit all the friends they planned to invite to their housewarming party. Sara's stone Buddha went on a wooden podium under some Monarch butterflies.

"Buddha-flies," Grissom said, and she threw a couch cushion at his head, then kissed him till he was dizzy.

Her canister of green tea went on the counter, and her art prints went in the bedroom. They indulged in a new bed, a king-sized four-poster in which they spent most of their time, still reveling in the taste of the other's skin. Grissom discovered a spot under her ribcage that made her squirm when he licked it, and he claimed it as his own.

Two toothbrushes, two shampoos, two kinds of milk. Two sets of tangled legs, two pairs of lips, too many whispered I love you's to count.

Before work they showered together, and she let him shampoo her hair. He was careful not to get suds in her eyes, and she was careful to brace her feet against the wall as he loved her over and over.

"This can't last," Sara murmured in his ear. "The bottom has to fall out sometime."

He ran his hands over her backside, smirking. "It can fall all it wants, it'll still be perfect to me."

She grew comfortable with his aquariums of live tarantulas, and he grew to like the taste of tofu. She stuck an exercise bike in his spare room, and despite his scowling, he used it.

After two weeks of blissful cohabitation, they finally invited their friends over. The only time that worked for everyone's work schedule was the morning, so Grissom made blueberry pancakes and Sara mixed mimosas.

Nick arrived first. "Mmm, I smell flapjacks," he grinned, smacking a kiss on Sara's cheek. He'd brought a ladybug shower curtain as a gift, and the couple was delighted.

Catherine entered without knocking, tossing a gift bag at Grissom and demanding a house tour from Sara. Grissom pulled a ladybug shower curtain out of the bag, sharing an amused look with Nick.

Greg and Brass arrived together, having carpooled from a crime scene. "Congratulations, Gil," Brass said kindly, presenting him with a large bottle of scotch. Greg handed Grissom a wrapped package that smelled too fragrant to be anything other than Blue Hawaiian coffee.

After Sofia and Doc Robbins arrived, Warrick called to say he was running late, and that they should start breakfast without him. Grissom flipped batch after batch of pancakes, while Catherine and Greg gulped down mimosas until they were pleasantly buzzed.

Breakfast was almost over by the time Warrick arrived, and Grissom set to work making him a fresh batch of pancakes.

"Try the mimosas, they're breathtaking," Greg said rapturously.

"Water's fine for me," Warrick grinned, leaning a large, flat package against the wall. Sara glanced at it pointedly, but Warrick just shook his head bashfully, mouthing "later."

Finally everyone was stuffed. They piled onto the couches, trying not to stare at the odd image of Sara's head on Grissom's shoulder, his arm around her waist.

"We should play a game," Greg announced. "Like, guessing how many butterflies Grissom has on the wall. Remember those jars of jelly beans in elementary school, where you'd have to guess how many were in it, and if you guessed right you won the jelly beans?"

"I always won those," Sara said. "Simple equation, really. Volume of a cylinder."

Grissom tightened his grip on her, wishing everyone else would leave. He always got aroused when she talked about math. Or science. Or pretty much anything, come to think of it.

"We could play poker," Doc Robbins suggested.

"No way," Catherine said immediately. "Warrick and Gil would eat us alive."

"Bridge?" Sofia proposed.

Brass shook his head. "Oh, I would, but see, I'm not a woman ."

"That's not what I heard," Greg called, then froze. "Did I say that out loud?"

"I should actually take a rain check on the games," Catherine said drowsily. "I need to sleep off those mimosas before my shift."

Sofia stood. "Yeah, I'll walk out with you."

Eventually everyone had left, and they were alone again, trying to figure out what to do with two ladybug shower curtains. Greg's coffee went in the pantry, Brass' scotch and Sofia's wine went in the liquor cabinet, Mrs. Robbins' homemade banana bread went in the freezer. They were heading back to the bedroom when Sara noticed Warrick's gift, still leaning against the wall.

Grissom picked the package up and laid it on the table, unwrapping it carefully to reveal a large framed photo. It had been taken at the last Christmas party. The old gang - Grissom, Sara, Catherine, Warrick, and Nick - had grouped together for a photo, arms slung around each other and grins impossibly wide.

"I remember that," Sara whispered. "You put your arm around my waist."

"I didn't want to let you go afterwards," he admitted.

They took the picture over to the empty wall by the entrance, where Grissom nailed it in place securely.

"I miss our old crew," she said wistfully, studying their carefree expressions. "I mean, Greg and Sofia are great, but the others were like family."

Grissom murmured in agreement. "Maybe we should make these get-togethers a regular thing," he suggested. "We've got enough room."

"I'd like that," Sara replied, still looking at the photo. She smiled when she realized that Grissom's arm was around her waist, mimicking their pose in the picture.

When she looked up at him, he was grinning at her. "I like that I don't have to let you go this time."