Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
Chapter 89: Bring on the Night
The Epilogue to the Losing It Series
August 23, 2005 (Day 123)
Greg's Apartment
8:26 p.m.
While Grissom continued to be grilled by Mrs. Sanders, and Tawny was in the living room talking secretively on her cellphone, Sara and Greg were wrapped up in a game of Boggle…which was boggling Greg's overmedicated and overtaxed mind.
Adding up his score for him Sara laughed, "I gave you a two and a half minute lead on the three minute total game time and I still kicked your butt, Bro. You even missed CAT."
"Speaking of outrageous butt kicking…" He pointed to Grissom sitting on the bedroom floor up against the wall looking pale. "I think he's sore enough." Yelling over, Greg said, "Hey, Gris, tell my mommy that I need to talk to her about a future wedding."
It worked like a charm and ten seconds later the phone was in Greg's hand. "Hi, Mom. See…I told you I was fine." He waved to Gil and Sara, shooing them home. "I hope you weren't too ugly to Gris."
"I was ugly enough and I only went easy on him because you're safe…and because he introduced you to Tawny…and because he's been very generous to you. Frankly I still want to strangle him." Sighing heavy from anxiety she chided, "I want you to promise to follow the rules from here on out. The reason I like you working for Nick Stokes is that he's a safety guy. He said that when I was out there visiting, remember? He made you and Sara wear bullet proof vests when…"
"I promise to listen to Nick and I promise to follow the rules."
"I can fly out first thing in the morning if you need me to take care of you, Honey."
"Mom, you don't have to do that anymore, remember?" Snuggling under the covers he delicately reminded her, "I have someone living with me now and she's doing a great job. I took care of her last night after the baby crisis, and she's taking care of me tonight. I think I'll ask her to marry me," He joked.
"I bought the ring today."
"I just mailed the check this morning."
"I was too excited to wait," She laughed sweetly until her emotions caught up with her. "Imagine if I had it and you were killed. What would I have done? Would you have wanted me to give it to her from you posthumously…I can't even bring myself to…"
"Mom…mom….please don't go there." He closed his eyes. "Let's….hey, tell me about the ring. Is it as beautiful as it looked on the computer? Will she love it?"
"The picture doesn't do it justice," She sniffled. "She'll be thrilled, Sweetheart. I can't wait to see it on her finger."
"That makes two of us," He whispered as he began to drift.
As they walked through the parking lot of the apartment complex, Sara glanced at her husband's ass. "Does it hurt much from Bev kicking it? Maybe we should have borrowed a pillow for you to sit on for the drive home?"
Exhaling pent up tension Gil admitted, "That was rough. I don't want to imagine what that conversation would have been like if the outcome had been different."
Feeling his pain Sara stopped joking around. "We don't have to imagine it because it didn't happen, it's behind us and we're all moving forward." When she reached her car she said, "On the drive home I want you to think about how you'd like to spend the next five days. I'm up for anything."
"Anything?"
"Even bugs," She assured him as he held open her car door.
"How's your car running by the way?" He hadn't asked her since the night he had it towed from the gym and repaired.
"Hey, thanks for handling that for me while I was busy being pissed off at you. I'm happy to report that the car, like our marriage, is running smoothly again." She took a seat behind the wheel. "I'm going to stop for a few things on the way home." Sara winked. "I'll meet you there. Oh and don't eat, I'll get some take out."
"Now I'm curious."
"Good."
Crime Lab
9:01 p.m.
Ready to face the music, Nick rapped on the open door and stepped into his boss's office feigning a military tone. "Stokes reporting as requested, Sir."
"Very submissive. Since I'm dating a lady in the biz I know it when I hear it. Did Carrie teach you that?" He teased as he pointed to a guest chair. "At ease soldier."
"Thanks, Jim." Trying to relax, he took a seat. "So…"
"So…" Jim eased back in his chair. "Sanders' inquiry statements were a bit wacky."
"After smoking a joint and following it up with 10mgs of Percocet, Cheetos and a Coke, Greggo was in a very psychedelic mood." Sitting back he sighed, "Considering the other places he could have been tonight, like Doc's autopsy table, I was thrilled to see him on cloud nine. I didn't even mind listening to him sing tonight."
"Now that says a lot." Brass held up Sofia's report. "Good news for Greg…the only thing he did incorrectly in this mess was not executing a kill shot when he faced down Tucker."
"He chose to incapacitate instead."
"He chose wrong and it could have cost him his life." Brass set down the report. "He empathized."
"How could he not? You heard what he said about getting beaten…tortured, is more accurate." Nick tensed as he recalled it. "We're not allowed to treat hardened criminals that way, but at thirteen, Greg gets duct taped and has the shit kicked out of him for looking at some guy. What the hell is wrong with people that they think they can swoop in and mess up a kid's life because it makes them feel good? Freakin' sociopathic bastards. If I were in his shoes I wouldn't have executed a kill shot either and think about that, Jim…that bastard Mifflin had McKenna in his sights. Which really makes me wonder how the hell I can say what I just said and…"
"Halt!" Jim leaned forward. "Perhaps this would be a good time to discuss you."
Breathing deep Nick turned his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head.
"It's just a phase, Nick." Brass changed to a fatherly tone. "Happens to the best of us…even me and let's face it, I'm as close to perfection as people get. You just need a little time to regroup and pull yourself together."
"What did Sofia write in there?" He groaned. "How bad is it?"
"Frankly…I was surprised she was so generous." Brass handed over the file. "Considering you're like oil and water."
"Well…I um…apologized for something before she wrote up the report." Shifting in his seat he added, "Not work related."
"Ah…smart move." Brass returned to lounging in his chair. "I wondered if the two of you had…" Smugly he laughed, "Come on, Nicky…you know better than to shit where you eat. That's politics 101."
As he opened the file he laughed. "Sorry…but with all due respect, Jim…should you really be talking about good places to hang your hat?"
"Touché!"
Nick scanned the summary page. "So she's basically sayin' I'm one straw from a nervous breakdown."
"You could go for a Psych Eval if you want to dispute her recommendation for mandated personal leave." He smirked. "You know…in case you think she's pissed at you for hanging your hat elsewhere and is falsifying her findings."
"It wasn't that type of relationship," He winked. "It was an arrangement. And thanks for the generous offer about getting my head examined for free by the County but…." Nick tossed the file on Jim's desk. "…I'll just take the two weeks of vacation and call it a day."
"I'm required to tell you that counselors are at your disposal."
"There's only one person who can help me out of this and she's promised to be at my disposal for the rest of her life." Nick stared at the concerned man sitting across from him.
"So everything's okay at home…with Carrie?" Jim asked in a troubled tone. "I'm off the record here."
Swallowing hard he confessed, "Hell…she's the only thing making perfect sense."
"Glad to hear it." He struggled for the right words. "You know I've never been much of a father. Ellie's out in California doin'…who the hell knows what she's doing. I try not to think about it." Placing his hand on his chest he humbled himself. "I've always been ineffective...no matter how hard I try. For years I was an absentee father…I was lax. At one point I tried to make up for it, but found out I was too late. Now, even though I know I should…I'm too afraid to push things with her." Catching Nick's eye he stated, "Certainly a lot different than how your father parented, huh?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "Pushing was the norm. Push past it…push through it…push it down inside ya…push forward. "
"You can't push yourself out of this thing you're going through, Nick." Jim leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Pushing is exactly what's making it worse." He caught his gaze and held it. "Do you understand what I'm saying…this isn't football. You can't push past the pain and get through the game, because this doesn't end. There's no season for this like football. You don't have five months to burn yourself out and seven months off to recover. The season is continuous now…career, marriage, family…there is no off-season. You've never had to balance all this before and I think you're struggling. Am I close to the mark here?"
"Somewhat," He replied before clamming up.
"You need to learn to relax during the season. You need to find some balance." Jim admitted, "Just don't ask me how because I sucked at it. I was a workaholic who cheated on his wife, ignored his daughter, got divorced and left Jersey downing a bottle of whisky a day. But you're not me and I know you can pull it off."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but could you tell me exactly what you're basing it on?" He hoped to hear something persuasive. "Cause I'm not convinced I can."
"That's huge right there."
"What?" His brows knitted as he waited for the answer.
"You admitting you're not sure you've got the right stuff."
"What's that phrase?" An anxious smile found his lips. "Admitting you have a problem is the first step toward recovery? My name is Nick Stokes and I don't have my shit together. I'm hanging on by a thread and it's fraying by the hour. Yeah, I feel better…not. How can I feel good? I'm failing all over the place. I'm failing my team…you…Carrie…myself." He huffed a self-loathing laugh. "Hell, I'm looking so pathetic even an ex-screw buddy I treated like crap one night feels sorry for me. What does that tell you, huh? You think I don't know how pathetic I look? Hell…the crunch of the egg shells people are walking on around me is deafening."
"Failing tweaks you hard," Jim announced without emotion. "You ever get a B in school?"
"No, but I got a D once." Without hesitation he shared the blunder. "Final grading period of 9th grade…Colonial American History. I decided to tool around and not pay attention the last part of the year. I was awesome at cramming. I knew I could pull out a B, but I blew it. I got this wicked stomach flu right before the final and didn't get to cram."
"Wow, a D! What did your dad say when you brought home that nightmare?" Brass listened intently, relishing the insight into Nick's psyche and the glimpse at how another, no doubt more skilled father, parented.
"What did he say?" Nick thought back and laughed. "You have to understand…my father values economy when it comes to words. He glanced up from my report card and very calmly remarked…" Nick mimicked his father's voice, "Son, it looks like we just discovered how you'll be spending your summer vacation. You'll be studying the history of the United States, a country you obviously take for granted."
"And then did he whoop your ass?"
"No." Nick tossed his hands in the air. "That was it. He didn't lose his temper or touch me…never did. Sometimes I think that would have been a lot easier to handle than dealing with that tone of his…the way he could make you feel with just a few carefully chosen words and that tone of disapproval." Staring blankly at Jim's pen holder, Nick explained, "You knew you blew it big when you heard it. I hated that feeling. Made me walk around with my stomach in a knot, and every time I saw him in the days following, the knot would tighten a bit more." He shrugged. "My brother was the only one immune to it. While my sisters and I couldn't stomach that feeling, Andy thrived on it. Probably explains why he's off making big bucks in Chicago selling his soul and clawing his way to the top in the business world, while the rest of us kids have service careers."
"I'd say there's correlation." Still curious, Brass probed, "So what did you do about Colonial American History? Did you go to the library and study up? Write an essay? What?"
"Nah…that's not how it worked." A nostalgic smile appeared on his face. "The next morning when I came down for breakfast, there was a stack of history books on the kitchen table with a note addressed to me. It was titled…your summer vacation. It said…read and comprehend these books cover to cover. On Labor Day we'll go sailing, just you and me. I expect to accomplish two things during our time together. I expect to catch some fish and I expect to be expertly educated on Colonial America."
Smiling, Jim quizzed, "What was the first colony?"
"Jamestown." He felt compelled to embellish the answer. "On May 14th 1607, over one hundred men and boys arrived courtesy of The Virginia Company on the Susan Constant, the Godspeed, and the Discovery. They anchored on the banks of James River. That's just the beginning…if you have another three hours I can finish Jamestown and move on to the mid 1600's." Shaking his head he sighed, "Trust me, if there was ever a Colonial America quiz show on TV, I'd kick ass and remain undefeated unless Captain John Smith rose from the grave to challenge me."
"I'll Google all that stuff later to make sure you're correct," Jim joked. "For now I'll take your word for it."
"Take this my word on this too, Jim." Nick sat forward and nodded. "When I come back I'll have it together."
"Okay…but, Nick…if you come back and you don't have it together, I want you to promise you'll tell me. You know what I'll promise right now…no matter what you come back and tell me, you won't get the tone of disapproval." He soothed, "We'll work together and figure something out. There are always options. Fair enough?"
"More than fair." He stood and extended his hand. "Thanks, Jim. I appreciate it."
Standing and returning the handshake Jim teased, "Here…I want to give you fifty bucks." Once his hand was free he reached into his pocket.
"What? Why?" Nick stared at his boss retrieving his money clip.
"Boss's orders and I will give you the tone if you let me down here." He forked over the fifty. "On the way home I want you to pick up a nice bottle of wine to share with your fiancée, because I've never seen you more relaxed than the night the future Mrs. Nick Stokes was plowed."
"Ahh." Laughing, he tucked the fifty in his pocket. "I promise to follow orders, but I can't force Carrie to comply. She only had a couple of hours sleep last night and unlike me, has to work tomorrow."
"You want a quick lesson on domination?" Jim watched Nick's smile spread. "Okay, get the hell out of here before I feel compelled to hug you or something crazy like that. There's been enough scandal for one day and no one is supposed to know I'm a teddy bear disguised as a sarcastic old fart."
"I'll see you in two weeks, Jim." Grinning, Nick hustled toward the door. "I'm gonna gather my things, take off, buy some wine, and hopefully inebriate my fiancée. Maybe if I get her tipsy I can get her to commit to taking a day off at some point during these two weeks."
Once Nick was gone, Jim sat on the edge of his desk and pulled out his cellphone. "What the hell." He punched in Ellie's number.
As usual after three rings her voice message echoed, you know what to do.
And he spoke the customary words. "Hey, Ellie…it's your dad checking in. I didn't hear back from last week…didn't expect to though and that's…" Suddenly he had a change of heart. "You know what…I do expect you to call me back this time. Yeah. Call me back this time or I'm hiring someone out there to track you down and keep tabs on you for me. You have forty-eight hours."
When he hung up the phone he dropped into his chair clutching his head and wondering…should I have given seventy-two or maybe only twenty-four?
Crime Lab Parking Lot
9:31 p.m.
With his black messenger bag over his shoulder, his kit in one hand and his keys in the other, Nick crossed the asphalt to get to his Xterra in the far end of the lot.
After stowing his things in the back, he opened the driver's side door and immediately noticed the large brown envelope on the passenger seat with the words, OPEN ME penned across it in black marker.
Intrigued, he climbed inside, took a seat and grabbed the mysterious envelope. As soon as he spilled its contents a smile burst on his face…it was a CD of Alan Jackson's Drive, and a note from Carrie.
Hey Tex,
A little birdie (well, an ex-tweeter actually) called to tell me you were feeling blue. She also told me that you were heading back to the lab to receive an unexpected vacation. I was a little surprised that my fiancé had tweeted first about this with her and not me, but then I realized you didn't want to burden me because I'm too busy working. Well guess what, Honey? I don't have to be back at work until Monday! Time off for good behavior (specifically for helping Clive with his case and not killing him in the process). So whatever it is you were planning on doing, you need to count me in…even if it's ((trembling)) camping.
To help get you in the right mood for your homecoming tonight, I've included a little musical inspiration. A song to warm an aching cowboy's heart as he drives home to the woman who's waiting to hold him and make sure he knows everything is going to be alright.
It's song number three. Don't call me. Just listen and drive…
Love,
Carrie
P.S. I have dinner waiting, but don't panic…I didn't cook it.
While popping the CD into his car stereo Nick declared, "What I did to deserve you I'll never know."
His sister Barbara had given him the CD for Christmas a few years back but he hadn't listened to it in a while because of his change in music taste…or as Greg would say…lack of music taste. But as soon as the first chords filled his car, Nick recalled the song, smiled a little brighter and switched on the ignition. It was about a tired man driving home to the one he loves and when he gets there, locking the door and losing himself in the arms of his woman.
Greg's Apartment
9:52 p.m.
After prying the phone out of Greg's hand while he slept, Tawny spoke to Mrs. Sanders for twenty minutes, reassuring her that her son was going to be just fine and then moving on to happier subjects like wedding planning and babies.
When she was done chatting, Tawny decided, because Greg was low on clean underwear, to toss in a load of laundry before joining him in bed for a much needed good night's sleep.
As the washing machine loudly filled with water Tawny couldn't hear the sounds coming from the bedroom, but when she closed the lid on the washer Greg's piercing scream penetrated her ears and she took off running. "Greg!"
By the time she reached the bedroom, he had kicked off the covers and was sitting up in bed holding his head and yelling, "No…don't…don't…NO!"
"Greg!" Jumping on the bed Tawny frantically shook him. "I'm here, it's okay."
His words were accented with screams. "Don't! Put the gun down. Put it down!" Clutching his head he shrieked, "NO!"
"Greg!" As she tried to hold him he fought to get away and slipped out of bed. That's when she realized he was still sleeping. Recalling what she read in the pamphlet on sleep trouble after trauma, she recognized he was having a night terror. "Greg…" She called while sliding off the bed to join him on the floor, and remembering the booklet said it was often difficult to wake the person and often made matters worse, she left him alone to slowly rouse.
In a daze he pushed himself up to sitting. "Wh…"
"You're okay," She soothed while placing her hands on his sweaty face. "You're home…you're safe."
"What happened?" He groggily asked while wondering why he was on the floor and his back throbbing. "Why…it hurts." Greg's hand reached around instinctively to hold his back.
As the pamphlet had instructed, she filled in the blanks to alleviate his confusion. "You hurt your back today, remember? While working the case you were held hostage in that basement." His whole body was shaking and she moved her hands to his shoulders to pull him close. "The Percocet is wearing off, that's why it's hurting more."
"Hostage…" Greg remarked in a distant voice. Then his panic reignited. "The gun…the gun!" He startled and his eyes darted around the room.
"There's no gun and no bad guy. It's over," She assured him in a firm voice while he panted in her arms. "You were sleeping and had a night terror. You're in your bedroom with me and you're safe."
"Why…" Panting, he struggled to make sense of the jumble of information in his head. "Okay…I remember."
Now that he wasn't fighting it, Tawny leaned against the bed and pulled him to her body. "Try to relax."
He gulped for air. "Don't let go."
"I won't."
Closing his eyes he whispered, "I see it all now."
"Try not to." She held him tighter.
"It's coming for me," He said in a gasp.
"What's coming for you, Honey?" She gently stroked his back while waiting for a full answer.
"Death…" He confessed while clinging to her. "I didn't want to live, but I did. I cheated death and now it's coming for me…the lab explosion was just the first of many close calls. It keeps happening. It keeps happening, Tawny…this is like the fourth time it's happened. I get so close to death and then I make it. How many do I get? Is it like the cat thing…do I get nine?"
"Shhh…you need to stop worrying."
"It's coming for me." He swallowed hard. "And one of these days it's going to find me. I'm scared." Trembling, he snuggled closer. "It's coming…I can feel it."
"That's the stress and the medication talking."
"Do you really think so?" He asked, hoping she'd make him believe it.
"Absolutely." Tenderly, she kissed his forehead. "Now let's get back in bed and try to get some sleep."
"Promise you'll stay with me."
"Of course." Her smiled brightened the room. "So much and forever, remember?"
With her help, he grabbed the edge of the mattress and pulled himself to his feet. "I think I'll feel better if I can clean up."
"I'll draw you a bath so you don't have to worry about standing in the shower." Slipping her hand around his waist she walked him out of the room. "You want some bubbles, Chuckles?" She asked trying to lighten the mood. "They'll make you smell better. And while you're in there, I'll change the sheets…because we know how important fresh sheets are, right?" Finally she saw a smile and it warmed her heart. "Greg was going to be okay."
San Marino, California
The Sanders Home
9:55 p.m.
Was Greg really okay, Bev Sanders wondered while shedding silent tears in the family room of her home? The emotion was brought on by the shocking news of the day and her staring at Greg's favorite childhood snuggly, Mr. Peebles, who now sat on a shelf encased in plexiglass.
"Oh, Sweetheart…" Scott remarked as soon as he entered the room and saw her. "Greg's fine." Upon reaching her, he slipped his arms around her waist from behind. "He sounded great when you let me talk to him…for thirty seconds." She practically wrestled the phone away from him.
"I know," She sniffled trying to compose herself. "I hate that job. I wish he'd quit. He could work in any lab in the country and…"
"He loves the job," Scott gently reminded her.
"Why?"
Lightly laughing Scott answered, "Honey…I've never been one to understand my son's motivations. I don't know why he loves some of music he listens to, or the clothes he wears…or that hair. All I know is when I was out there listening to him talk about the job he was animated and proud of what he was doing. I've waited a long time to see him like that."
"I'd feel better if I could see him."
"He'll be here next Thursday…with Tawny." Scott chuckled. "I don't have a problem understanding why he loves her."
Finally Bev laughed. "Outwardly what's not to appreciate, but it's what's inside her that makes her lovable. Tawny loves him so much." Her tears returned. "I'm so happy he finally has someone special."
"Like I do." After kissing his wife's cheek, Scott took her by the hand. "Come on…let's open a bottle of wine and try to relax. Later, I'll draw you a nice soothing bubble bath."
"Okay." Bev trailed behind him. "There's already a bottle open in…"
"Nope…we're breaking open the good stuff. I have a special bottle of Cabernet in mind."
Carrie and Nick's Apartment
9:59 p.m.
Holding a bottle of fifty dollar wine in a brown paper bag, Nick opened the door to the apartment and was glad to do as the song suggested…lock the world outside and throw the key away.
The sound of Nick's keys dropping on the entry table sent Carrie rushing from the kitchen into the living room sporting one of Nick's white t-shirts and a pair of powder blue boy shorts. "You're home." Her arms were around his neck before he could reply.
"I'm home." Closing his eyes he savored everything…the smell of Acqua di Gio perfume, the warmth of her body and the comfort of her loving embrace. "To call it a day, just like the song says. Thank you for that surprise."
"The shades are pulled," She whispered while gazing into his weary eyes.
"And seriously, the only thing that kept me sane today was knowing at some point I'd be in your arms." He felt himself slipping.
Not wanting things to get overly emotional after a day full of drama, Carrie joked, "Why? Was it a tough day at the office? Or do you have something personal going on?"
"Yeah…" Nick released his emotions in a laugh, grateful to be snapped out of heaviness. "I guess you could say there were a few tense moments sprinkled throughout my day."
"Is that why you have booze in a bag?" She stepped back and took it.
"Boss' orders," He explained through a laugh. "Jim said he'd never seen me more relaxed than when you were plowed. So he gave me fifty bucks and told me to bring home a bottle for you."
"Ha!" She yanked the bottle of red wine from its sack. "Well…I think your mood that night had more to do with romping in the pool house and tequila, than my wine buzz." She studied the bottle as she headed for the kitchen for glasses. "Why did you select this one? Agraria Big Barn Red?"
After taking off his shoes by the door Nick followed. "The description said it was complex and intense because of its layers…I thought it fit my mood of late." He laughed, "Plus it had the word barn in it and I had been listening to country music."
In the kitchen he took a seat at the counter. "Bartender…I'd love a glass of your finest wine. And I don't have time to wait for it to breathe."
"Coming right up." She winked as she grabbed the corkscrew from a drawer. "So…what do you want to do for our glorious five days together?"
"Not camping, Darlin'." He rolled his eyes. "Because I doubt camping with you would be relaxing for me."
She popped the cork and silently rejoiced. "I wouldn't mind spending one night under the stars with you…as long as there is a clean restroom nearby…and no bugs." Carrie poured a sample into Nick's glass and slid it forward. "I'll leave the bug romance to Sara and Gil."
Foregoing all wine tasting etiquette, he gulped it down. "Thanks for the shot. I'd love another."
Shaking her head she filled his glass. "Well, I know where else we're not going…Wine Country. You'd have us run out of town."
"Hey…we weren't all raised in Sonoma County, California, Sweetheart." Swirling his glass he faked his best wine snob. "Robust yet smooth, with just the right hint of cedar." When he saw Carrie gaping he laughed. "I read that on the card at the store too."
"You had me going." She raised her glass and did a proper analysis.
"Good to know that even when I'm a nutcase I'm still capable of being smoooooooth." He took a hearty swing and smacked his lips. "Those are some first-rate grapes, Baby. Hey…do you think Keanu stomped them before he took that walk in the clouds?"
She choked on her sip. "For a guy on the edge you're pretty funny."
"I have an idea…" His eyes glimmered as he readied to spring it. "How about we don't plan a trip…we just take one…a road trip? With no destination, no reservations and…you may want to brace yourself here…no organization."
"Oh!" She clutched her chest. "No way."
"Oh yeah." He raised his glass. "You can do it." The look of sheer terror on her face as he drank thrilled him. "Just you and me and the open road."
"Did you do this kind of thing before I met you?" She inquired in an anxious voice.
"Yeah, when I needed to get away I just tossed a bag and some outdoor gear in my trunk and took off…destination unknown. I'd camp, hike, fish, have a few beers in a local bar, do whatever. Come back to town a new man."
Her lips curved into a grin. "Whatever? I have an inkling about that vague activity. Don't you mean do whomever?"
"It's okay if you're not up for the challenge." He smiled behind his soon to be empty glass. "I know you have limitations."
Sticking her index finger in her mouth, Carrie tugged on her cheek, pretending to be a hooked trout.
"Tell you what…Miss Most Likely to Organize the World." Smiling, he grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. "You can plan five things you want to do on this trip."
She lowered her glass. "Five things?"
"You get five and I get five." He clinked his glass to hers. "But you get no time to think about it." Lunging across the counter he grabbed one of her legal pads and a pen. "I'll say one thing and then you say one thing until we have ten things to accomplish on our road trip. Is that enough structure for ya?"
Grabbing the bottle of wine she excitedly said, "Let's do this in the living room."
"I figured you'd get into it once there was a list involved." Taking his glass, pad and pen he followed her to the couch.
"You first," She announced in a giddy tone as she tossed her feet with their perfectly French polished toes onto the coffee table.
He seized the opportunity by looking her straight in the eyes and saying, "I'd love to do some Side-by-Side Clasping followed by a turn on Kama's Wheel and end up Driving the Peg Home to give you that naughty girl pool house vibe you love now. That is if you think I have the strength and stamina to pull it off…which you should think since you know I can run ten miles without stopping and bench press twice my body weight. I mean…I may not be a knowledgeable Biologist or a reactive Chemist but I'm a multi-talented scientist and jock, so you should still have some fun even though we're law plus law enforcement and usually do things by the book. Speaking of books, has your Amazon order arrived yet? Because I'm dying to check out the instructions for The Goat and the Tree. I suppose I could always ask Chuckles the Master of Tantric Sex or 27 Positions and Counting Grissom, but I'd prefer to figure it out on my own."
"How?" Dumbfounded she gawked at her beaming fiancé. "You hacked into my hard drive!" Grabbing a pillow she readied to smack him.
"Red wine stains furniture!" He warned knowing she'd protect the couch even when she wanted to pummel him.
"You were trying to find my wedding vows and you found that, didn't you!" She raised the pillow. "How dare you invade my privacy like that!"
"Hold your fire! I didn't hack into your hard drive, Roxie…or should I call you Slick Nick's Chick." Setting down his glass he happily explained. "Here's what happened…"
The Grissoms'
10:11 p.m.
What happened to her husband's curiosity Sara wondered as she fought her way into the house with her arms full of bags. She had gone to the townhouse to pick up her purchases from earlier that day and then to the store for groceries to have a romantic late dinner. In the process she hadn't realized how much time had passed. "Gil!" She figured he'd be there waiting to greet her.
The bags were slipping and she set them down in the hall, careful to make sure the one with her French Maid outfit was still hidden. "I'm home!"
When he didn't answer she headed for the bedroom, assuming he was in the bathroom. "Honey?"
But when she stepped in the room she saw him crashed on the bed still dressed. She knew immediately what had happened. He had come home, felt groggy and said…I'll just rest my eyes for a moment. The moment usually turned into eight hours unless the alarm clock woke him earlier.
Walking over to him she heard it…teeth gnashing. The tell tale sign he had a disturbing day. "Honey…" She whispered to see if he'd rouse, but he was already in deep sleep and didn't stir. The day was a lot harder on him than he acknowledged. She wondered also if it made him doubt his ability to parent and be a good father. From time to time she had joked that Greg was Gil's practice son and maybe today her husband thought of that when he was almost responsible for Greg's demise.
So with a loving smile on her face, Sara gently removed her husband's glasses and set them on his nightstand. Then she slipped off his shoes one by one and set them neatly under the bed. From her side of the bed she grabbed the edge of the comforter and brought it over him, cozying him under it. "Good night." After a peck on the lips she retreated, shutting off the light and hoping Gil would awake refreshed.
Greg's Apartment
10:19 p.m.
"You look refreshed," Tawny commented as Greg hobbled into the living room wearing green and white striped boxers and a yellow t-shirt with his damp hair unspiked. "Is the pill kicking in yet?" She stood to meet him.
"Just starting to." He grabbed the edge of the couch. "I don't want to sleep so I'm going to hang out in here."
She realized he was afraid of having another terror or nightmare. "Feel up to some Xbox? Maybe a little Need for Speed Underground 2?" It was one of his favorites.
"Yeah…that'll work." He let her help him sit. "I really hope my back is better by next week so it doesn't ruin our trip."
Walking over to grab the Xbox console and controller she chuckled. "It's going to take a lot more than a sore back to ruin the trip for me. I'm thrilled to be going away with you, seeing where you grew up, and hanging out in your old stomping ground." Returning she teased, "And I'm dying to see Mr. Peebles, your favorite piece of ass."
Joking back he replied, "He's definitely been replaced as my both my favorite piece of ass and favorite cuddly thing to snuggle at night."
"I'm flattered." She handed him his toy and then flicked on the TV. "I have to toss the laundry into the dryer. Need anything else?"
"A kiss." He waited impatiently for her compliance.
After a minute of smooching Tawny whispered, "I bet Mr. Peebles never kissed you like that."
"I never let him try," He choked out in a laugh.
"That's a relief."
"I bet you kissed your bed pillow, Tawny Ann Cooper."
"Absolutely." Moving closer she gave him an Eskimo Kiss. "I kissed my pillow and fantasized about kissing the man of my dreams."
"Is it the medication or are you making me euphoric?"
"It's a little of both." Closing her eyes she massaged a kiss over his lips and when they parted she murmured, "Mmm…my pillow never kissed me back like that."
"Wow, on your way back could you pour me a glass of ice water?" He fired up the Xbox.
"Sure thing." Grinning, she strolled away whistling. "How about some ice cream too? I have Ben and Jerry's Phish Food."
"Oooh! My favorite!"
Jim Brass's Apartment
10:21 p.m.
The second Jim through the door he smelled his favorite food. "Is that really Linguine with clam sauce!"
"Not to mention Caesar salad with garlic bread." Heather, dressed like June Clever's brunette sister, strolled over with a chilled glass of Chardonnay. "Welcome home, Dear."
"Wow." He took the glass and dropped his briefcase. "This is…I had a fantasy like this once."
"You can tell me all the details over dinner so I don't leave anything out." Grabbing him by the tie she said, "Now follow me into the kitchen."
"As you wish." Sipping the wine he did as asked. "I'm gonna be praying for shitty days now that I know I get treated like royalty!"
Nick and Carrie's Apartment
10:30 p.m.
"Not exactly the royal treatment but…" Having pounded down the first bottle of wine, Carrie waltzed into the living room with a second bottle. "I'm afraid we'll be slumming it with this ten dollar bottle after that fabulous bottle you brought home."
"Grapes is grapes," Nick joked while filling the CD player with six country CDs, including the Alan Jackson one he had retrieved from his car.
"Have you decided on my punishment for blabbing about our sex life?" She was relieved that he wasn't upset once she reassured him she hadn't shared any delicate psychological details about him.
"I have three options for you," He replied with a twinkle in his eye.
"I should have known." Smiling, she filled their glasses and then lounged lengthways on the couch holding them, waiting for Nick to return.
After lifting Carrie's legs, he scooted under and dropped them.
"Thank you, Darlin'," He said while receiving the glass of Merlot.
"So let's hear my options, Tex."
"Well, Roxie…" He attempted to keep a straight face. "Option one…when we get to making our wish list for the trip, only I get to pick five things, you lose your five and have no say."
"OH!" She took a big sip to ease the pain. "You know that will kill me!"
"Uh huh." A smile started to creep over his face. "So maybe you'd prefer option two…you're only allowed to bring one pair of shoes on our trip and since I will definitely be listing hiking as one of my five things, I wouldn't pick something cute or stylish."
"OH! OH!" Holding her head she tried to imagine the nightmare he suggested. "There's just no way…that's not even safe."
"Not even safe?" He cracked up. "What's unsafe about only having one pair of shoes?"
"I can't just bring my hiking boots so I'll be forced to pick something else…like flats or cute sneakers and then I'll wear them hiking and end up falling off the trail." Her wine buzz kicking in nicely she pointed her finger at him. "Option three better be good."
"Oh…I think it is." He paused for a lengthy sip of wine. "Hey…I like this wine more than the barn one."
"Ugh." She slapped her forehead. "This is swill!"
"Option three…" He leaned closer and winked. "By the way, I think this one is most befitting of the crime."
"Uh oh…" A frisky giggle escaped her lips. "My crime was being naughty and planning on having lots of sex."
"Yeah, Roxie...exactly." He took another sip. "If you can't handle losing your five choices, or your shoes, then you're gettin' spanked and doubling your total positions number from two to four by the time I'm through with ya."
"I choose the second one," She managed to reply without busting out laughing.
"What!"
Carrie grinned, "You thought you had that locked, huh?"
"I know what you want," He returned her naughty smile.
"You think so."
"I have the written evidence to prove it…Slick Nick's Chick." He pointed to the printout they had read earlier. "You're chomping at the bit for numbers three through six, but I'm not gonna tell you what to do. You're your own boss."
Crime Lab
10:35 p.m.
"How's it going, Boss?" Knowing that Warrick was still hurting from reliving the memories of Holly's death, Catherine walked into his office with his favorite coffee and a supportive smile.
"Hey…" Looking up he found comfort in her smile. "Is that for me?" He saw her extending the jumbo cup.
"Do I know how to suck up to the boss or what?"
"No comment," Warrick chuckled as he brought the cup to his nose. "Smells great and I need the caffeine after today."
"Don't we all." Taking a seat on the edge of his desk she said, "So the plan is that Pete is going to work for you while Nick is on leave?"
"Yeah…with Sara and Jas on vacation and Greg on medical for who knows how long, Brass wanted to bring in Relief Shift."
"That had to take some juggling."
"He didn't seem to mind." Warrick took a sip. "Pete and Sofia will handle everything related to Tucker Mifflin the Brittany Thomas' murder, the attempted murder of his mother and all the stuff with Greg. You, Nina and Trey and I will work our cases and whatever comes in."
"Sounds like a good plan to me."
"I'm fine," He announced in response to the question her eyes were asking.
"Okay." She checked her watch. "The realtor said a fax would be sent to you by midnight accepting our offer. I'll in the Layout Room crossing my fingers."
"I'll call you as soon as it comes through." Holding up the cup he smiled. "Thanks."
"For the coffee?"
"You know what I mean." He shooed her out. "Don't be hanging out here too long, or people will talk and say we're gettin' it on."
"Oh please…" She sauntered towards the door. "Everyone knows I've got it bad for Hodges."
"If that's what you want, Baby, I won't stop you," He joked, "You can have him."
The Grissoms'
10:40 p.m.
Since she couldn't have her husband, Sara decided to make good use of her time…plotting the best French Maid scenario possible.
With the costume already purchased and hidden in her closet, she was onto the next item. On her computer she was surfing the web for French food recipes because, Mimi, her French alter-ego, was a full-service maid who would be servicing her man in many ways.
"Crepes…" Sara mused when she saw the photo of the delectable food. "Those look yummy and I have all the ingredients on hand. Plus…whipped cream is an option." She grinned while selecting PRINT. "Not only is Gil getting a fun role play tomorrow morning, I'm letting him go off his diet." In silence she debated which he would enjoy more after a month of healthy eating but she quickly decided he'd enjoy it all.
Nick and Carrie's Apartment
10:55 p.m.
Enjoying the tunes of Clay Walker and the cheap bottle of wine, Carrie and Nick sat on the couch ready to make their trip selections.
Pouring the last the last drop from the bottle, Nick announced, "Since you chose option two for your punishment, you still have your five choices…they have to be one word…because I know you litigious types, you'll want to have all these terms and restrictions otherwise."
"You start."
"Hiking." He snickered, "I can't wait to see you rock hopping through a stream wearing your Keds. You better pack a helmet so when you fall on your ass you're protected from smacking your head."
"Is it too late to rethink my choice?" She inquired in a pouty voice.
"That depends," He answered while jotting down his first selection. "If you're picking option one, then yes, I'm afraid it's too late. If you're picking option three then, no ma'am, you still have plenty of time to change your mind."
"Nevermind then." She laughed into her wine glass.
He snapped up to look at her. "Make your first pick, Roxie…and for your sake I'd pick something you can do barefoot."
"Singing."
"Hold up while I write myself a reminder to pack ear plugs." He winced from the shot in the arm she gave him. "Hey…I wasn't slamming your voice. I thought you were going to make me sing. If you want to torture yourself have at it, but why should I suffer?"
"Nice cover." As she watched him writing and grinning, option three was sounding even more appealing than it did when he first mentioned it and she let her mind wander.
Moving on he made his next selection. "Horses."
Gasping she covered her mouth.
"Yep…it's about time you got over your fear of them."
"Do I actually have to get on one? Or can I just pet it?"
"You can pet it…before, during or after your ride."
"Booze." She chuckled, "Because I believe I will have a very sore ass after riding a horse for the first time…at least that's what I've seen in some movies."
"I could toughen you up with that spankin'!" He joked as he wrote down their two choices. "Which reminds me…sex is my next choice." Grinning he brought his wine glass to his mouth.
"Just so I'm clear, are you planning on having sex with the horse or me?"
The spray of wine from his mouth as he choked made Carrie jump out from under him. "Are you trying to kill me?" He barked when he stopped laughing and coughing.
"It was a legitimate question!" She yelled while cracking up. "I've heard stories about good 'ol boys and their love of farm animals."
"That's it!" Grabbing her he yanked her on to his lap. "I think I've taken enough abuse about my sex life for one day. Being compared to Gris and Greg was bad enough, but suggesting I have a hankering for livestock is over the top, Roxie." While she laughed riotously and squirmed, he informed her, "I'm choosing for you…option three. As always, if it's too much for you, just say stop."
"Go!" She blurted while tossing her tee. "We're already in the perfect set up for The Goat and the Tree!"
"Little lady, I'm just a simple boy from the ranch…" After standing up and taking her with him, he tugged down her shorts. "I don't plan on gettin' fancy here. But since you're obsessed with animal lovin', you can pretend you're a doggie if you like."
"Oh!" She blushed. "And you have the nerve to call me naughty! That's pretty risqué talk."
Nick smiled blissfully at the love of his life getting flustered and thinking the word 'doggie' was the epitome of dirty talk.
Backing away she enjoyed watching him shuck his clothes. "By the way, my next trip activity choice is role-play."
"That's two words."
"I'm hyphenating." From behind the couch she ogled him.
Knowing she was enjoying the view he stood still. "Well…you're going to have to remind me to write that down, because I'm a little preoccupied right now."
Leaning over the back of the couch she let her eyes drift lower. "I'll say."
"Do me a favor, Roxie..." He began strolling around the sofa to meet her. "…hold that position."
Greg's Apartment
11:20 p.m.
"I'm coming from behind!" Greg yelled as he played Need for Speed Underground 2 with a passion.
"Oh, Baby!" Tawny warned when she saw the rain start to fall on the screen, "It's getting slippery!"
"I've got it under control!"
"You're so good at this, Honey." She watched him maneuver with expertise.
"Because I've had plenty of practice." Greg raced to a perfect finish and threw up his arms. "Yesssssss! I'm the best!"
Happy to see him feeling no pain again…mentally or physically, Tawny snuggled up close. "Do you want to play some more, or do you want to watch a movie, or are you finally ready to try sleeping again?"
He rubbed his palms together. "I know just the right movie."
Carrie and Nick's Apartment
11:24 p.m.
"Movie," Nick declared as his fourth choice while sitting on the couch wearing only his grey boxer briefs and polishing off the Chinese food they had warmed in the microwave after the lovin'.
"Watching one?" Carrie quizzed while she dangled the last bite of an egg roll in front of his mouth. "Or making one of our own?"
"Listen to you," He remarked in surprise after swallowing the bite. "I sincerely hope the film you want to make doesn't take place on a farm."
"No!" She cracked up while adjusting her t-shirt. "Actually, I wish we had been taping the romp we just had." Chuckling she grabbed a napkin to wipe her greasy fingers. "Since I was in front of you, I couldn't see the look on your face when you realized you lost control before getting to promised position number four. Ooops!" She winked. "If you hadn't done such a wonderful job making it up to me, I'd sue you for breach of contract."
"Apparently my mind isn't the only thing I've lost control over, Sweetheart." Pulling her close he gave her an egg roll flavored kiss. "Sorry, but like the Kung Pao Chicken when I tried to take it out of the microwave…it was too hot for me to handle." Her unbridled enthusiasm had taken him by surprise and resulted in him overheating a lot sooner than planned. "That's a compliment to you. Hell, you had me so crazy I saw stars."
"Stars."
"Stars?"
"For my fourth choice…stars." As he scooted down to lie on his side she snuggled up in front of him. "Preferably gazing at them with you."
"I like the sound of that." His voice dropped an octave. "Skinny Dippin' is a good night time activity too so maybe we could combine…" Then he realized what he just said. "God…I'm sorry, Honey. That was so insensitive." He wanted to die for suggesting they get touchy-feely in the water since it was one of the ways the swim coach had taken advantage of Carrie as a child. "What is wrong with me?"
"It's okay…really. It was perfectly logical to suggest…" She saw how pissed he was at himself and she wanted to assure him. "Look…three months ago it would have seemed impossible, but now…with you…I'd love to give it a try. You overcame an inhibition for me, right? So now it's your turn to help me. Remember, if I let what he did to me stop me from living fully, then he still has power over me."
"Okay…" Running his fingers through her hair he nodded. "…but I don't want to write it on the list. We'll just know that should the opportunity arise on the trip, or some other time, we'll give it a try."
"Okay." After pecking his lips she sweetly asked, "So what's your fifth and final activity?"
"Tacky-Roadside-Attraction…I'm hyphenating." He grinned before explaining, "As a kid when we took road trips, we always stopped to see some silly slice of Americana. It was totally ridiculous, but it's what I remember most about those family vacations. As soon as mom and dad would tell us where we'd be going, us kids researched to find the one that was the worst…that was work back when I was a kid because there was no Internet to Google. We had to go to the library, talk to people. It was hard."
"You sound like an old man," She feigned a ninety year old's voice. "When I was a kid we had to walk six miles in the snow to get a loaf of bread with only rabbit skins strapped to our feet."
"Exactly!" He laughed at himself. "I want to stop and see some gaudy monstrosity with you. Maybe we can think of it as practice for future Stokes Family Vacations?"
"Definitely, because I don't plan on denying my kids the joy of visiting cheesy tourist spots. Hey…have you seen The Big Oil Man in Tulsa?"
"Hell yeah, several times." He studied her eyes. "You have?"
"Family trip to study The Great Depression, specifically the dust bowl." She reminded him, "After everything happened, my parents home schooled me, remember?"
"So you took lots of trips to study stuff?"
"Exactly." She beamed with pride. "In Oklahoma I also saw the World's Largest Totem Pole."
"On Route 66." Nick pulled her closer. "We did a whole Route 66 thing one year in the camper."
"Smokey Bear's Grave?"
"Smokey Bear Historical State Park in Capitan, New Mexico. We went there when I was eight." Shaking his head he confessed, "You'll love this…I cried. I was really into Smokey."
"You cried over Smokey's grave! So did I!" Placing her hand on his cheek she gushed, "Will you marry me?"
"Sure, how does February 11th sound?"
"I'll have to check my calendar." After kissing him she probed, "What did your family think when you cried over Smokey?"
"Andy laughed his ass off at me. Called me a Bear-Lovin' Weirdo." Nick remembered it well. "My dad nailed him for disrespecting the dead and the rest of the trip he had to do all my chores as punishment. Oh and when we stopped at some square dance shindig, my mom made him dance. It was…"
"Dancing." She grinned. "That's my fifth and final choice. We've never gone dancing."
"What kind of dancing?"
"Country dancing of course." She listened to the twangy song on the stereo. "Texas Two Step."
"You know how to Two-Step?"
"No, you can teach me." She jumped off the couch and grabbing his hand demanded, "Come on…right now."
"It looks a lot easier than it is, Darlin'."
"I'm a fast learner."
The Grissoms'
11:31 p.m.
In the kitchen, Sara attempted to successfully make a crepe for the third time. "How could I learn Aerodynamics without breaking a sweat, but not grasp this!" They kept falling apart when she tried to flip them. In her panic she grabbed the phone to call Wendy, but then realized it was almost midnight.
Deciding she needed to take her mind off the stress of cooking something special for her husband, Sara walked into the living room and grabbed the remote. She figured she'd watch a little TV and relax before making a new batch.
Flipping the channels around she saw the opening credits to a movie called Baby Boom. The inclusion of the word baby intrigued her enough to take a seat to watch the beginning.
Crime Lab
Warrick's Office
11: 40 p.m.
Beginning to wonder where Catherine was, Warrick waited impatiently for her to answer her cell. Finally he heard her voice…
"I'm sorry I can't take your call right now…I'm busy in Trace making Hodges' wet dreams come true."
"Hey!" Warrick cringe-laughed. "To quote Greggo…that's waaaaaaay too squicky for me."
"So do we have a house?"
"We have a house." He set down the contract. "They took what we offered and there are no additional terms. They agreed to the fifteen day close too."
"Excellent!"
Warrick breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's hope Lindsay loves it."
"She's got an even bigger room than the last house and still has her own bathroom." Catherine groaned, "I would have killed for that as a teen. Why do you think I ran away?"
"I'm sure she will." Warrick checked his watch. "I have a meeting with Pete and Sofia at midnight, but what do you say about rendezvousing in the break room around one thirty?"
"I'd say that sounds nice. But I'm really looking forward to meeting you at eight-thirty in our bed."
Greg's Apartment
11:45 p.m.
Spooning Tawny in bed and watching The Wizard of Oz, Greg confessed, "I've heard this movie takes on a whole new meaning when you're high."
Laughing in his arms Tawny informed Greg, "I think you're supposed to be on an acid trip, Honey."
"I don't know…this Munchkinland scene is doing more for me than it used to."
"I'm really glad I had this movie for you. A friend gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago…you know, the Miss Kansas thing. Dorothy is from Kansas."
"Ahhh, but that's only the surface interpretation." He sat up and educated her. "Dorothy represents youth at the crossroads to adulthood. Kansas is the external world and it's bleak because we don't know what we want from it and we can't understand all that it has to offer. The anxiety builds inside us and manifests itself in the twister…the symbol of our internal struggles."
"Whoa." Tawny stared at her animated man. "Where did you get that?"
"Symbolism in Film. I got an A."
Intrigued she prodded, "Tell me more. What about Oz?"
"Oz represents the internal. When Dorothy goes to Oz she's really just going inside herself to find enlightenment. When she opens the door of the trashed house, she's really opening the door to her soul and the journey begins. The Yellow Brick Road is the path to self-actualization, hence Dorothy's mantra…follow the yellow brick road…stay on the path and you will be enlightened."
Lying on her back Tawny sighed, "Why is this making me more attracted to you than ever?"
"I don't know, but now that I know that, I'm definitely sharing some more." Excited he explained, "I bet this will blow your mind. In literature, shoes are often used to represent female sexuality. Think of Cinderella…when the slipper fits it means that Cinderella gets to marry the Prince…which means she finally has sex. One interpretation of Dorothy's slippers is that they symbolize her struggle to accept sexuality."
"No way!" She sat up enthralled.
"Totally!Dorothy is at the crossroads, she wants to remain an innocent child safe on the farm and yet she wants to explore the world around her…meaning sexuality. When she first goes on her journey, what happens? The good witch takes the ruby slippers from the wicked witch and places them on Dorothy saying…there they are and there they'll stay. Dorothy balks at first. Why?" He spoke in an all-knowing tone. "Because the slippers represent sex…the wicked one had the slippers meaning she had sex. Now Dorothy is being told this is a part of you as a woman and it's not going away, you have to face it. That was terrifying and yet enticing at the same time…just like the idea of sex is when you're a virgin."
"Holy shit!" Tawny bubbled with excitement. "I always knew you were smart about science but…hey…what does that say about girls who have lots of shoes? Like Carrie for instance? She has more shoes than anyone I've ever known. Hmm…"
"Get this…in the book, Dorothy's slippers were silver, but in the movie they made them red…it's a more sexually charged color." Shrugging he admitted, "There are other interpretations, some think the slippers represent the spark of life and that by telling Dorothy never to take off her slippers, she should never lose that spark, and that they changed them to red in the movie because they would really pop on the big screen."
"Oooh I like that one too."
"There's also a whole political take on everything regarding the populist movement and oppression." He grinned. "But we didn't focus on that as much because every guy in the class was hard up and hoping to wow some babe with Wizard of Oz sex talk."
"It works!"
"It didn't back then." He burst out laughing. "I tried it one night at this party and the girl called me a creep and threw a beer in my face."
"Awww…" Tawny pulled him close. "You can enlighten me anytime, Chuckles."
"To answer your question about Carrie and her shoes…" Greg slid to lie down next to Tawny. "I think shoes were her substitute for sex. There she would be standing at the fork in the road asking herself should I go for it? Then, because of her issues, she'd chicken out and buy shoes instead."
"I could see that." Tawny nodded and smiled. "So now that she's in a loving relationship with Nick, she should be buying less shoes."
Greg chuckled. "And more books from Amazon. Because now she doesn't only want knowledge…she wants to perfect it."
Carrie and Nick's Apartment
11:51 p.m.
After five minutes of dance lessons Nick broached the delicate subject with his perfectionist fiancée, "Carrie…Sweetheart…um…"
"I know!" Stuffing her hands on her hips she yelped, "I stink!"
"But you have potential," He soothed in a sunny tone. "I told you it was harder than it looks."
Rolling her eyes she groaned, "It's a freaking four stepdance…fast, fast, slow, slow!"
"How many times have you gone dancing?"
"Does aerobic dancing at the gym count?"
"I meant dancing with a partner."
"Oh." She smiled sweetly. "I've danced at weddings…only slow ones…and most of those were with my dad."
"That explains a lot." Taking her hand he brought it to his lips for a kiss. "See…a big chunk of the problem is you're trying to lead…and you're forcing it…and you're lifting and clomping your feet instead of gliding them…and you keep staring at your feet…and you're bouncing like…"
"Got it!" She started laughing. "Is there anything I'm doing well?"
A grin plastered his face. "You're cute as hell when you're frustrated…I'm lovin' that."
Releasing his hand she headed for the couch. "I think I'll pick a new number five activity."
"Oh no…I'm not letting you throw in the towel that easy. Get back here." Nick moved over to the stereo. "First I'm putting on a slower song." He selected Hal Ketchum's Small Town Saturday Night and hit the repeat function since he figured it would take a while.
Reluctantly Carrie returned to the center of the room. "Maybe I'm too buzzed from the wine to catch on."
"Trust me the wine is working in your favor." He couldn't imagine how stiff and uncoordinated she'd be sober. "Now, Honey…" He took both of her hands. "Remember our first night together?"
"Of course." A blissful smile emerged on her face.
"I think it will help matters if you take the same approach to learning this dance that you did that night."
She pondered it for a moment. "Oh…you want me to try real hard to relax while you take the lead?"
"Exactly…you just hold on to me and let me take you where I want to go. No big moves…things stay nice and smooth." Taking her in arms he instructed, "Keep your eyes on me and just let your body react. The only thing you need to know is when I step forward you step back. If you don't think about it too much, it will just happen."
"This totally reminds me of Dirty Dancing!" Carrie giggled, "And I can finally understand why Baby was so hot for Johnny even though he was a bit of a blockhead." She laughed harder. "Not that I'm saying you're a blockhead. You're sexy, skilled and sweet like Johnny…but with brains…and a real career."
"Okay, Baby…here we go." Right off the block she stepped on his toes. "It's okay…"
"Sorry!" She looked down at their feet.
"Starting over." He lifted her chin with his fingertips. "Remember, relax and look at me."
"Ha! You've seen the movie."
"No comment." He laughed.
She took a deep breath. "I'm ready."
"Fast, fast…slow…slow." He coached, "You move your feet. Let me move your body. Fast, fast…slow…slow."
Brass's Apartment
11:58 p.m
"Slow down!" Jim begged as Heather massaged his tense shoulders. "And ease up on the pressure. I think you have me confused with a client paying you to hurt him."
"Sorry…" Heather grinned as she lightened her touch. "It comes naturally. More so when I'm PMS'ing."
"Thanks for that tidbit of information. I'll mark those days on my calendar from here on out and make sure I don't let you tie me up."
"Wise move," She purred in his ear.
"That explains those scratches you left on me about this time last month. I need to pay more attention."
Snickering she encouraged, "Don't worry…eventually you get it."
The Grissoms'
11:58 p.m.
"I'm never going to get it!" As Sara watched Diane Keaton struggle with motherhood on TV, Sara tossed her spatula and lamented, "That's going to be me trying to parent…pathetic…like my crepes. My domestic gene is sorely lacking."
Looking around the kitchen she noticed the mess she had made. "All this and not one decent crepe. The French Maid is going to be so exhausted from cleaning she won't have energy to do all the fun stuff."
The mention of exhaustion threw her into a series of yawns "I'll just lie on the couch and rest my eyes for a little while and then I'll get it."
August 24, 2005 (Day 124)
Carrie and Nick's Apartment
12:24 a.m.
After six plays of Small Town Saturday Night, Nick cheerily proclaimed, "You've got it!" Sure, she would still stick out like a sore thumb in any bar in Texas, but she was definitely catching on.
"I think I really do have it!" She gushed with pride. "Nobody puts Baby in a corner!" She quoted from Dirty Dancing. "Okay, so we have to find a bar to dance at during our road trip." They continued circling the living room getting a little smoother with each pass. "Oooh! I'm going to challenge myself to combine all five of my activities into one night. Singing…booze…stars…role-play and dancing."
Shaking his head Nick sighed, "You're not supposed to plan or challenge yourself…you're supposed to let things happen and have fun."
"You're just saying that because you can't possibly think of a way to combine hiking, horses, sex, a movie and a tacky-roadside-attraction all in one activity."
"Oh, trust me…I could." Truthfully he had easily combined the first three within one date several times. "But I'd rather spread my pleasure out over five days." Then he moved in for a kiss.
Realizing she was off beat, Carried huffed, "That kiss messed me up."
"Time to change the music anyway." Leaving his partner he hurried to the stereo. "I'm bringing back Mr. Alan Jackson. There's a song I want you to hear…Once in a Lifetime Love."
With a 100-watt smile she stood waiting for her partner to return. "I'm having a wonderful time and we haven't even left yet."
"Me too." When he returned Nick placed his hands on Carrie's shoulders. "I know this is going to work for me…relaxing with you…clearing my head. I'm gonna get it back."
"Of course you are, Honey," She assured him while letting him take the lead.
"No fancy steps this time." He brushed the words over her lips with a kiss. "Just holding the one you love."
Greg's Apartment
12:30 a.m.
"Tawny, you know what's really cool about this part of the movie?" That's when he realized she had dozed. "Yeah…you have to be exhausted." He spooned her a little tighter, grateful that he wasn't alone after the trauma of the day. Alone like he was the night after Dales Trail when he sat in the living room with all the lights on drinking coffee after coffee trying to stay awake and avoid the nightmares.
And the nightmares that lonely night weren't limited to the terror on the trail. That night as he sat alone with no one to hold, he wondered if the day would ever come when he'd have a woman who cared about him… other than his mother, who was flying out in the morning. With nothing but time on his hands he sat there in the brightly lit room wishing there was someone out there with whom he could connect. Someone who would be tolerant of his quirks and have the patience to get to know him before deciding he wasn't relationship material. Maybe someone who even appreciated what he thought he had to offer if ever given a chance.
On this night, lying in a darkened bedroom watching a child's movie in the arms of the woman carrying his children, Greg knew even if he fell asleep and had nightmares, he'd be having one less than he did on that July night after Dales Trail. He'd never have to fear loneliness again, for that special person he dreamed about and hoped was there waiting for him was in his arms.
Closing his eyes he rejoiced that in twelve days she would be wearing his diamond on the ring finger of her left hand. Shortly after that she'd be walking down the aisle on Grissom's arm while he waited for her standing next to Nick. All their friends and family would be there to celebrate the special day and six months later they'd celebrate the arrival of two healthy babies. It was easy to visualize and he focused on the details as he drifted off to sleep, hoping that they would defeat the horrible images and fears trying to creep into his mind.
The Grissoms'
12:31 a.m.
When he woke in the bedroom Gil realized he had fallen asleep waiting for Sara. "Honey?" He called out in a groggy voice while tossing on his glasses.
The time on the clock and the fact she wasn't in bed sent his heart racing. "Sara?" But as soon as he got out of bed and saw his shoes neatly off to the side he knew she was home safe and left to check the other rooms of the house.
From the hall he heard the TV and so he headed for the kitchen. "Honey? I'm really sorry I fell asleep. I guess I was more…" That's when he saw her curled up on the couch. "Sorry."
When he reached her he clicked off the TV and pulled the blanket off the back of the leather sofa. Gently he tucked it around her while wondering why she had tiny flecks of beige paste on her cheeks. After licking his finger he swiped one of the spots and brought it to his mouth.
"Batter," He declared as he stood up straight. Glancing towards the kitchen he saw the source of the product. A delightful smile crept onto his face. "She was cooking," Gil whispered as he walked towards the mess.
Upon arrival in the batter-covered kitchen his smile expanded to a grin. "She was doing this to surprise me."
He picked up the printed copy of the crepe recipe which was coated in ingredients. "That's okay, Sweetheart…" He looked over at his sleeping wife with loving eyes. "I'll surprise you in the morning instead."
Nick and Carrie's Apartment
Holding each other while gently swaying to the music, Nick and Carrie hadn't exchanged a word. But now that the song was done, Nick whispered, "What do you think?"
"Just like the song says…" She glanced up with glistening eyes and quoted from the song. "There's no mistakin'…it's perfectly clear…we have a once in a lifetime love."
"Exactly what I was thinking." Gently resting his forehead against hers Nick asked, "I was wondering…would this be a good song for us to dance to at…"
"Absolutely." Reaching up she tenderly placed her palm on his cheek. "Since we're starting over on the planning, this can be our first wedding decision. This will be our song."
"Thank you." He smiled appreciatively while holding her tighter. "Not just for agreeing to the song, but for everything you've done…and everything that you are…and everything I know you're going to be to me. I love you, Carrie."
"I love you too," She soulfully replied. "And I'm looking forward to all that lies ahead…"
Author's Notes: This is the end of the Losing It series. I hope you enjoyed it! Since it's against the rules to address questions or comments in your reviews (that's why the story was pulled last time), unless you leave an email addy I can't reply. Just so you know I'm not ignoring you!
Next Series: Getting It Back (the last series in Feasiblity Study)
Posting: Saturday (but this site is not allowing me some functionality since the change so if it's not here on Saturday click my homepage for my website link.)
Thanks for reading and commenting!
Maggs