Spoilers: YGM and very slight PNN
Archive: www.grissomandsara.com. Anyone else, ask permission and I'll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I do own the plotline you're about to read, but since we all know it'd never make it to the show... then I must not own the show. Damn!
Author's Note: I've had experience with trying to get flour out of long hair. It is not fun!
Summary: G/S (some W/C & N/OC) - Grissom wakes up the morning after the team's crazy night of charades...
Chapter 9 - In the SINK, Grissom!
"Grissom!" she screeched. "You're so dead!" She was stuck for the moment, however, because her hands were wedged firmly in the bread dough. She carefully extricated herself - no need to let all this work go to waste on the floor after being thrown at him - and pulled as far away from her attacker as possible. "I can not believe you just did that. You're so... so... DEAD!" And she launched herself at him. Grissom, knowing Sara well, had a head start and was already heading for the living room.
Sara snatched up a pillow as she flew through the room toward Grissom, who quickly ducked behind the couch. "Mercy! Mercy!" he pleaded. "Don't kill me!"
Sara stood back for a moment with her hands on her hips. "And why shouldn't I? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get flour out of long hair, Grissom? Of course you don't!" she ranted.
Grissom winced. "Er, sorry Sara. You know I don't." He pointed to his own hair. "Never had it longer than this, sorry to say."
"Yeah, well, you will soon."
This was not sounding good. "Have long hair?" he asked, confused.
"No! Experience washing flour out of hair. We're going to put this bread in the oven and then you - yes, YOU - are going to help me wash this flour out of my hair."
Unbidden, an image of the two of them in the shower rose into Grissom's head. She couldn't mean... could she? His eyes nearly crossed. "How..." his voice cracked. His voice hadn't cracked since he was eighteen! This woman was driving him absolutely crazy. He tried again. "How, uh, how do you expect me to do that?"
Sara's eyes widened. "I didn't mean... uh, that is... in the SINK, Grissom. The sink. Didn't your mother ever wash your hair in the kitchen sink?" He shook his head. "Well mine did. It's entirely possible, trust me, and that's what you're going to do for me once we get this bread out of the way." Inching past him warily, she headed back to the kitchen, a somewhat chastened Grissom trailing behind her.
As she shaped the dough into two loaves, Sara said, "I'm going to put this dough in. Do me a favor and go get my shampoo and conditioner out of the bathroom? They're on the shower ledge." Grissom gulped. Her bathroom? Female bathrooms made him nervous.
Steeling himself, he nodded. "Sure," he squeaked, and made for the bathroom as quickly as he could. Anything to get himself away from temptation!
When he returned, Sara was shutting the oven. "I'm gonna go change my shirt. Get the warm water running while I'm gone." Grissom blinked. Was she doing this on purpose? What was she going to change into?!
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