2004-11-30 - 3:19 p.m.


Grape Lucidity On Ice

Chapter 3

“Excuse me,” Grissom tapped the man on his back, “I believe you have something of mine.” This resulted in a confused look, pushing Grissom to clarify, “May I cut in?”

Sara slid into his arm gratefully and wrapped her fingers around his hand. “Something of yours?”

“Shhh,” he chided, “I don’t like to talk when I’m dancing.”

Rolling her eyes before she closed them Sara laid her head on his shoulder. She mused that if she’d had less to drink her head, if on his shoulder at all, would be closer to his arm than his neck. As it stood her nose was just less than an inch from what most would call nuzzling position. She began to wonder how much he had consumed to let her so close to him, but the thoughts were fuzzy and overridden with the pure sensation of his body pressed against hers. Eventually the analytical side of her brain relented and she took complete notice of how it felt to be held by him.

‘It’s tough to fight when you’ve soaked me in scotch.’ The thought kept circling in Grissom’s brain. He knew he’d said one or two things he shouldn’t and was well aware that he was holding Sara much too close to him. Who had given his thumb permission to stroke her lower back like this? Certainly not his mind, it was trained to know better. Perhaps thinking would be easier if he couldn’t feel her warm breath against his neck. Oh, certainly if her hair didn’t smell so good he’d be able to take a step back. Room for the Holy Spirit, isn’t that what all the nuns used to say, back when he believed in nuns? Thoughts tumbled over each other, making less and less sense until finally he felt Sara give a small sigh of content and made a decision that just this once he’d live in the moment and let this be.

Reluctantly at the song’s end they stepped apart. An awkward moment filled the space they’d left as a void. As usual, Sara was the more brave of the two and spoke up. “Thanks for the save. That’s guy was nice enough but whew…one too many trips to the onion dip.”

“Any time. At your service.”

“I’ll remember that. Where did you leave my wine?”

Scowling he chastised her, “Sara, you never drink anything you’ve lost sight of, you don’t know what someone may have put in it.”

Already ordering another she decided to push the issue with him anyway, “But I left this drink with a friend.”

Too drunk not to take the bait, “You never know who you can trust.”

Her face had the look of a cat about to nab its well-cornered prey, “So you’re saying it’s possible you drugged my drink, usually a stunt pulled by a man looking to sleep with an unwilling woman.”

“I’m saying you never know.” His smile was smug under his beard.

She leaned her shoulder to his chest and whispered up at him, “Well, just so YOU know, you don’t have to drug me.”


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