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!
Summary: G/S (some W/C & N/OC) - Grissom wakes up the morning after the team's crazy night of charades...
Chapter 128 - Perfect isn't easy, but it's me
"No way," Sara said with a violent shake of her head. "There's no way in hell I'm wearing something that makes me look like a ballerina." She fingered the netting that overlaid the dress's skirt and shook her head again. "Uh-uh."
"Hey, calm down," Catherine said, rolling her eyes. "We're not gonna tie you into it and force you to buy it. You don't like it, out it goes and we move on to the next one. Not a problem." Pulling aside the curtain that separated herself and Sara from the rest of the store, she stuck her head out and asked for the next dress possibility.
The smiling saleswoman handed Catherine yet another white dress, this one very simple: a strapless white sheath with false buttons up the back. Between Catherine and Sara, they managed to get her into it and zipped up.
Sara turned around to face the mirror and wrinkled her nose. "Feels like it's gonna fall off," she remarked crankily, tugging at the bodice, which did indeed seem to be threatening full exposure.
"Maybe you need some falsies," Catherine suggested with a smirk.
"Hardy har har, Cath. No fair making fun of the chick with the small boobs just because you ended up with bigger ones. Besides, mine aren't exactly at low ebb right now anyway." Sara tugged again at the dress, then took a step forward and nearly pitched into the wall. Putting out a hand to stop herself, she yelped, "Ouch!" as her wrist bent just a little too much when it made contact with the wall. Once she had recovered her balance, she shook the offending appendage, trying to clear out the ache. "No way am I wearing a dress that I can't walk in even without high heels. This thing feels like I've been wrapped in duct tape; could the skirt get any tighter?"
"Trust me, Sara - it could get a lot tighter. You're talking to an ex-stripper of the spandex generation; I speak from experience. So let's get you out of this one..." she said, tugging on the zipper, which didn't seem to want to move.
It took a few minutes of effort, but they managed to peel the dress off Sara, who took a deep breath and let out with an immensely satisfied look on her face. "Note to self: do not buy wedding dress that's so fitted around the middle that you can't breathe. Passing out while walking down the aisle, though fitting considering our job, is not recommended in this case."
A light screech from the vicinity of Catherine's chest broke Sara's humorous tirade. With a grimace, Catherine motioned Sara back to the velvet-covered bench at the back of their area and said, "She wants you. She's been gumming my shirt for the past five minutes, and I think she just figured out that she can't get what she wants from me."
"Good," Sara sighed. "I needed a break anyway." She dug a small blanket out of the diaper bag and settled Galina down for lunch, then sighed again. "You didn't tell me dress shopping was this hard. I'm ready to stretch out in here and take a nap!"
"I never said it would be easy, either, Sara. You want to take a break, get some lunch for ourselves, then come back here and continue?"
"No. If I leave this store without finding a dress, you won't be able to get me back in with a crowbar. Let's just finish this."
It was Catherine's turn to sigh. "You know, we're shopping for your wedding dress. This isn't a torturous practice on level with bamboo shoots or water torture. You ought to at least try to enjoy it, seeing as how the dress is supposed to make you happy."
Sara didn't deign to answer that comment, instead leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. Maybe she could catch a few minutes of shut-eye while the baby nursed.
Sara was still so young, Catherine mused as she looked at the pale face and dark hair. She felt like she should be teaching the younger woman, but right now she was more worried about Sara just making it to her wedding day without killing someone - herself included. She'd always been adamant about not allowing time to just laze around, and she still was, despite the added stress in her life.
Maybe she'd settle down after the wedding. If not... well, nowadays Grissom was the one stuck with restraining her anyway, he could just do it one more time. "Hey Sara?"
"The sucking noises stopped, so I think she's done eating. Come on and hand her over; I'll burp her while you get the next dress ready."
Sara grumbled loudly, but did as ordered. Eyeing the next dress in the queue, she raised her eyebrows. "You know, this one actually doesn't look too terrible." The dress was cut simply, as she had requested, but the skirt was roomy - maybe even a little voluminous - rather than skintight. She held it up to her front and looked at Catherine. "What do you think?"
"Works for me," Catherine replied, then grinned when the baby let out a burp. "Good girl. To both of you, actually," she grinned, and set the baby back into the carrier she still wore. Finishing that, she looked up again and eyed the dress Sara was holding up. "I like it! Turn it around, lemme see the back."
Sara did so, revealing the two wide, crisscrossing streamers that formed a platinum-colored train about three feet long. "Wow," she said with a smile, "I definitely like the back, how about you?"
Catherine nodded, then twirled her finger. "Let me see the front again; were those beads or sequins?"
"Neither," Sara said in surprise as she scrutinized the bodice. "It looks like it's painted. They even gave it depth."
"Wow. Let's get you into it and see if it looks as good on you as it does on the hanger." She carefully unlaced it and let Sara step in, then laced her back up. "Face me."
Catherine drew in a sharp breath. "I think we just found it, Sara. You look absolutely beautiful."
Sara fingered the material of the skirt nervously. "You think? I know I don't look good in white 'cause it makes me look even paler than I am, and..."
"Shush, Sara. Would I lie to you about this? It's gorgeous. Look in the mirror."
She did. What she saw made her draw in a breath as sharp as Catherine's. She was looking at a tall, slender woman whose figure was accented by the cut of the dress's narrow waistline and its elegant skirt. A delicate design of hand-painted ribbons and beads danced over the strapless bodice of the dress, flowing into a low, dipping waistline that met a flared skirt, which fell to the floor in gentle waves.
She turned away from the mirror and craned her neck to see her back. Corset-style lacing led from the top of the skirt to mid-back, where the dress ended just below the woman's shoulder blades. A platinum streamer came from either side of the dress's waist, meeting and then crossing at the small of her back. The streamers flowed to the bottom of the dress, becoming gradually wider as they fell until they touched the floor and formed a short, rounded train.
"Oh my god," she whispered. "That's me?"
Catherine grinned. "Now tell me you're still going to refuse to buy it if it costs more than a hundred bucks."
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