Summer Sizzler Fic- Footprints

Title: Footprints
Author: silentsarah
Prompt: Flip Flops
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
A/N: The reference to the footprint poem is not meant in a religious context, unfortunately Grissom is not God, so that one doesn’t work. As always thanks to xenontetroxide for her invaluable help.




A cool breeze fluttered through the window as they returned from their walk down the beach. Collapsing onto the bed, Sara let out a content sigh. The vacation had been great, and inviting Grissom along had made it that much better.

Grissom stood at the mirror, twisting, trying to get a better view of his reddening back.

“Come here,” Sara teased, propping herself up to watch him.

“I think I’m burnt,” he said, as a playful pout crossed his face.

“Of course you are,” she laughed, remembering.

He’d left the hotel with sunscreen smeared across his nose, oversized sunglasses and that goofy hat of his. She’d managed to talk him into taking his baseball cap instead and had later coaxed him into less offensive sunscreen.

“Ow,” he repeated, stubbornly poking at his back as she laughed again, remembering how funny he’d looked, walking down the beach in sandals and his favorite Hawaiian shirt.

“Let me see,” she said, as he shot an envious look at her tanned form sprawled beautifully across their bed.

He moved slowly, settling tentatively on the bed next to her. He still wasn’t used to how intoxicating she could be.

Slowly, he relaxed under her touch, his awkwardness disappearing as she began to smear aloe across his burnt back.

“You poor thing,” she breathed softly as she finished, planting a small kiss on the side of his neck.

He sighed contentedly and returned the kiss before getting up and wandering over to his camera bag.

“I got you something,” he said, smiling as he felt her dancing eyes trace along his falling shadow.

“When’d you do that?” she asked, more enchanted than she was curious.

“When we were in that little pottery shop, I ducked next door and picked this up,” he said, his eyes glimmering.

She smiled, her eyes laughing, as curiosity began to overtake her. It wasn’t often that he tried to surprise her.

His fingers fumbled with the small velvet box before grasping it awkwardly.

“It’s nothing special,” he said, almost shocked by the anticipatory look on her face.

“I’m sure it’s just perfect,” she said airily, her eyes locked on the velvet box encased in his hand.

A nervous look flickered across his face before he crossed the room and settled next to her once more.

“Here,” he said suddenly, gesturing, as his courage returned, for her to take it.

Slowly, with trembling fingers, she grasped the small grey box and, with a shaky breath, drew it open.

A small gasp escaped her lips as she reached down to take the small jewel-encrusted necklace into her hand.

“Footprints,” she exclaimed at a whisper, tracing the tiny flip-flop in her hand before gazing up at him.

“How’d you know?”

“You told me,” he whispered, the words barely leaving his lips as he drew closer.

Her head tilted, a slight acknowledgement. “The other night.” She paused for a second, lost in thought, and then continued. “I told you that you could never understood how lucky I felt to have you, but you told me that you did.”

He grinned softly. “It was the poem: ‘When you saw only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you,’” he finished softly, before his lips met hers.