Christmas Fic-Holiday Spark

Title: Holiday Spark

Author: Microgirl

Rating: G

Summary: How Grissom put Spark into the holidays...GSR

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything or anyone in regards to CSI; the show and its characters belong to a bunch of people who aren’t me. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement. Dance puppets, dance.

Spoilers: Some from upcoming episodes, but nothing too detailed.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t planning on writing anything for Chrsitmas until EllipsesBandit told me about her fic. I got inspired so here’s a bit of GSR fluff for the holidays.

EllipsesBandit deserves a great big plate of cookies and candy canes for this one because she read this multiple times, helped rearrange parts, and came up with the ending. Thank you uber, super beta.




September 23, 2006

“Where’s your aloe?”

“Uh, I think it’s in a box somewhere in the bedroom.”

“Since you’re going upstairs, can you get it for me, honey?”

Sara slowly turned around in the living room. “I don’t remember which box it’s in. Can’t it wait?”

Grissom’s mouth twitched. The back of his neck was bright red from sunburn, and it was starting to bother him again. They were almost done bringing their things into the new house, but the stinging sensation became more persistent. His lips turned into a sad half-smile. “Please?” he quietly begged.

She let out a long breath through her nose. “I’ll see if I can find it, but I’m only searching for five minutes,” she warned before disappearing upstairs.

Three minutes later Sara returned to the kitchen where Grissom had just placed the coffee maker. “You were lucky. I only had to look in two boxes.”

He thanked her, and sat on stool while she gently applied the gel to affected area. The aloe immediately cooled the skin causing him to sigh in relief.

“Why didn’t you put any sunscreen on before you went to that scene in the parking lot?” she asked.

“I did,” he replied with his eyes closed. “But I didn’t have a chance to reapply it.” Sighing again, he grumbled, “This wouldn’t be a problem if I still had my hat.”

“Are you still upset about losing that?”

“Yes.”

She moved in front of him. “Gil, it was just a straw hat.”

“It wasn’t just a straw hat,” he adamantly protested. “A friend in Panama sent it to me.”

In early August, Grissom had lost his hat to the wind. A dust storm kicked up at a scene in the desert and carried it off. And since then, the back of his neck had been sunburned three times.

“You know, a lot of people are glad the hat is gone,” Sara commented as she wiped her hands on a paper towel.

His expression mirrored the one he reserved for exterminators. “Why?”

“Everyone thought it was hideous.”

“Hideous?”

“Yeah, and that’s putting it mildly.”

He merely grunted. Grissom didn’t care if the lab personnel thought the straw hat wasn’t stylish; it was practical. The wide brim had shaded him from the harsh sun…and it was gone.

Noticing his frown, Sara suggested, “If this bothers you so much, why don’t you get a new one?”

“I haven’t been able to find a similar hat,” he answered dejectedly.

An amused snort escaped from her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Sara kissed him on the forehead. “Poor sweet baby.”

--------------------------------

Grissom trudged into the living room with the last box. They finally got the last of Sara’s things inside. He dropped it with a little more force than intended.

Sara looked up from she sat on the floor, untangling the mess of cords from the television. “Tired?”

“One would be after lugging forty boxes of books from your apartment.”

“As opposed to the eighty five out of your townhouse?”

She shot him a challenging expression, and they stared at each other until he chuckled. Moving through the cardboard maze, Grissom managed to make his way to the couch across from her. “I am surprised though,” he said.

“About what?”

“That you didn’t have lighter boxes. I thought there might be at least one full of stuffed animals.” With all the houses he had searched over the years, one consistency Grissom noticed was that most women owned at least one teddy bear.

The fiddling with the cords stopped. “Oh.” She paused. “That’s because I don’t own any.”

“Really?”

She nodded, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. A full minute passed before she spoke. “I wasn’t able to get many toys from my house before they put me into foster care. And nobody ever gave me one. I always got books for birthdays and Christmases.” Sara tried to make her tone neutral, but he could detect a wistful hint.

Shrugging, she finally glanced up at him. “We should try to get some more stuff unpacked.”

---------------------------------------------------


December 14, 2006

Sara. This was for Sara.

Grissom kept reminding himself of the purpose behind this trip. At the time, this place seemed like a good place to get Sara’s present, but now he started having second thoughts. The store that he stood across from didn’t cater to men. In fact, the only time men entered the store was during December and the beginning of February. The rest of the time, if a man came in alone, he might be labeled as a pervert.

But he was leaving in three weeks, and Sara had been incredibly supportive of his decision. Once again, she was willing to wait for him. She certainly deserved a nice present.

With a deep breath, Grissom stood up straight, and marched forward.

“Hello, sir,” the blonde salesgirl chirped. “Welcome to Build-A-Bear.”

He smiled at her before turning his attention to the wall displaying the different teddy bears. He noticed a puppy, a frog, and a pig, but quickly discarded them as choices because he specifically wanted a bear.

But which one?

None of the stuffed animals looked like actual bears. They had arms, not four legs, and sat like a human. No claws. Heck, the bears didn’t even have nostrils.

This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

He eliminated the bears labeled “Lil’ Vanilla Cub” and “Lil’ Cocoa Cub.” Animal names did not contain foods. Polar bears did not have blue noses. Pink was certainly not a fur color. That only left two bears: “Bearemy” and “Champ.” They at least had pads on their feet. “Champ” had sandy colored fur with corduroy on his paws. But “Bearemy” seemed like a better choice; the animal’s pads were a leather material. Not quite the feel of real pad, but it was closest the store had. Plus “Bearemy’s” coat was a shade that made Grissom think of a European brown bear.

Taking an unfilled “Bearemy,” Grissom stood in line for the stuffing station. It consisted of a large yellow cart that contained the cotton. A large hose from the ceiling led to the Plexiglas case that surrounded the top of the cart. He carefully observed the stuffing process as a metal wheel turned the cotton. An air compressor drew the white fluff through a small metal hose where another sales girl sat rotating a bear until it was filled. Afterward the young man at the front of the line grabbed what looked like a small heart and then proceeded to spin in a circle and jump up and down. Frowning in confusion, Grissom wondered how those actions were involved in the stuffing process…and how he hoped he wouldn’t have to do that.

Grissom was pulled out of his thoughts when a man behind him asked, “You here for your wife?”

Not bothering to correct him, Grissom replied, “Yes.”

“Me too. She loves these.” He held up the “Lil’ Vanilla Cub.” Then he pointed to the animal Grissom held. “That’s the one I got her last year.”

“It was the only one that looked remotely close to a real bear. The rest of them didn’t even resemble what you would see in nature.”

The man’s jaw hung open as he nodded. He smiled politely, and gazed off to the left.

When Grissom made it to the stuffing station, the salesgirl chirped, “How would you like your bear stuffed? Soft or medium or chubby?”

His eyes squinted as he thought for a minute. “Medium is fine.”

After the bear was filled, the girl handed it to him. “Go ahead and give your bear a hug and make sure he feels right,” she cheerfully directed.

Carefully squeezing the stomach, arms, and legs, Grissom made sure the entire bear was stuffed evenly. Once satisfied he handed it back to her so she could close up the bear.

Before tightening the stitches on the back, the girl asked Grissom to pick out a small heart, rub it between his hands, and give it a kiss. He then placed the heart inside the bear. As the girl clipped the laces, she explained the process with the heart would bring his “furry friend to life with lots of love.”

Grissom simply smiled.

Now it was time to dress the bear. Apparently stuffed animals needed to be tennis players or police officers or fairies. The search ended when he saw a safari outfit; khaki pants and a vest decorated with pockets. But what made the clothes even more appealing was the accessory set next to it-a butterfly net, magnifying glass, and two small insects.

He could almost forgive the store for their bears’ lack of realism. Almost.

The clothes made Grissom think of the previous summer when he visited Cincinnati for a forensic entomology convention. He had asked Sara to join at the end of the week for a long weekend. They spent one of the days at King’s Island, riding all the roller coasters at least twice. It was while they were walking around when Sara admitted to having never seen a firefly.

Grissom had almost dropped his soda.

Even with her time in Massachusetts, she never found the time to get out of the labs and into the less populated area where the insects resided. He vowed at that moment that she would see a lightning bug.

They left King’s Island just before dusk, and Grissom drove to a small neighborhood park. Settling on a bench, the two waited until the brief flashes of light fluttered around them. He couldn’t help but grin as she watched the fireflies in absolute fascination. She told him he could introduce her to other bugs and even suggested they visit an insect house.

Who could resist an offer like that?

Grissom looked over the bear in its clothing. The stuffed animal didn’t look right; it needed one more thing. A hat. Glancing over the accessories again, he found a variety of them; cowboy hat, hard helmet, and even an Indiana Jones fedora. However, his eyes lit up as soon as he saw one hat in particular.

The straw hat looked perfect on the teddy bear.

With the birth certificate created, Grissom took his purchase to the register. Yet another perky salesgirl asked, “And the name of your bear?” She turned to the printer behind her.

“Spark.”

-----------------------------------------------------

December 25, 2006

Grissom and Sara spent most of the morning curled up in bed before going downstairs. With his departure date approaching, both found themselves seeking more physical contact than usual. After the breakfast dishes were cleaned up, they sat by their small tree to open presents.

He felt an involuntary smirk come to his face as Sara reached for the tall box wrapped in Snoopy paper. She opened the lid and when she saw what was inside, she slowly pulled Spark out.

He wondered if she didn’t like the gift because she stared at it as if she couldn’t believe what she saw. Her breathing also became shallower.

It took Grissom several seconds to try to formulate an explanation. “I-I just thought…since you didn’t have one…” His voice trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

Sara continued to stare at him, giving no discernible reaction to his comments. But then she moved herself into his lap, and forcefully pressed their mouths together.

It didn’t matter that they had shared probably thousands of kisses in the past year and a half, but every time he felt his heart swell like the first time their lips touched.

When they parted, he was the first to speak…once he remembered how to form words. “Um, you’re welcome?”

“Gil, that was…thank you.” Her brown eyes twinkled. “I love the teddy bear.” Then she flashed him a bright smile; the one reserved solely for him.

Sara moved off of his lap, and placed a rather large box in his hands. “This isn’t your Christmas present, but I decided to give it to you now.” Blushing slightly, she went on. “It’s some things I thought you could use in Massachusetts.”

He didn’t know what to say to her thoughtfulness, and remained speechless as he removed the paper. The first item Grissom saw was a scarf, cream colored with wide, stone blue stripes, along with a matching blue cap. Actually it was a beanie. Something he had seen on college students.

“I knew you wouldn’t wear the blue one, but it came with the scarf. There’s a black hat under the set,” she told him.

Sure enough he found the moderate looking, black watch cap. While the beanie wasn’t his style, it was useful to have two hats. What if the black one got dirty or soaked in a storm? Then he’d have to wear the blue beanie.

Next was a dark blue, UCLA hooded sweatshirt. It had been years since Grissom had purchased clothing from his alma mater, and the t-shirt and shorts he owned were worn and covered in holes.

He held the sweatshirt in front of him, smelling a faint hint of vanilla. Most likely Vanilla Lace-his favorite lotion that Sara used. Apparently she had already worn the sweatshirt. Funny how such a small comfort could bring home a little closer.

A large, soft blanket was the last out of the box. Sara gently took it from him, and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Just in case you want to show your students a dead pig.”

Grissom’s smile was much wider than it had been seven years ago. And this time, he wasn’t afraid to invite her to underneath. Silently, he lifted his left arm, and covered Sara with the blanket as she settled next to him.

Their kiss was longer and gentler than earlier. Soon, his brain started protesting at the lack of air, but Grissom ignored it. There was documentation of people who functioned normally after oxygen deprivation.

Resting his forehead against her’s, he murmured, “Thank you,” hoping she knew he didn’t just mean the presents.

“You’re welcome.” Her giggles made his lips tingle when he kissed her again. “You still have actual Christmas present,” she whispered.

A low growl rumbled from his throat as they separated. The contents of the second gift caused Grissom’s eyes to widen in absolute surprise. His slack jawed expression quickly turned into a broad grin that revealed his line of crooked teeth.

Inside the box was another straw hat.

“This look just like my other one,” he beamed, setting the hat on his head. “How did you get this?”

“I have my sources.”

--------------------------

“I just realized something,” Sara announced as they sat at the table after dinner, having dessert.

“Hmm?”

“You and Spark bear an uncanny resemblance.”

Grissom quirked an eyebrow at her strange observation. His gaze shifted to one of the bookshelves in the living room. Spark and the insect kit had earned an official place on a shelf.

After studying the stuffed animal briefly, he said, “I don’t see any similarities.”

“It’s more than just similarities,” she insisted. “You both have magnifying glasses.”

“But I own several that have different magnifications.”

“I know; they’re all over the upstairs office.”

She took a bite of the cherry-topped cheesecake before continuing. “You have a butterfly net, too.”

“I don’t use it though.”

“Now you don’t, but I’m sure at one time you did.”

That was true. His mother had given him one for his seventh birthday. He had used it numerous amount of times until he discovered better methods for catching insects.

So he’d relent to those two comparisons, but there couldn’t be more.

“Spark also has pocketed shirt that looks oddly familiar,” she casually mentioned. Grissom opened his mouth to protest, but Sara interrupted him. “Don’t say no because I saw the one you wore on your college research trip in the Amazon.”

Frowning at her triumphant expression, he reluctantly considered Sara’s point. Yes, the shirt he owned had three pockets on each side, but its khaki shade was lighter than the bear’s.

Before taking a sip of coffee, she mumbled, “And you’re also soft and cuddly,” behind the mug.

Grissom closed his eyes and shook his head as she laughed. Four years may have seemed like a probable time period to go from robot to…soft and cuddly. But nobody, nobody had ever told him that. He would certainly never use those words to describe himself.

Finally he lifted his lids to her bright face. “Anything else?”

“Well, one can’t ignore the straw hats.” She paused. “But there is one difference with them though.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t sew your hat on your head to keep you from losing it.”



The End