DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!
RATING: Teen
SPOILERS: Season 8 - Promos and News Articles about Season 9
PAIRINGS: GSR
SUMMARY: Ecklie finds himself in an awkward dilemma as he sorts through his paperwork one weekend.
A/N: Having something of an awful week, but then that little nugget of inspiration hit me over the head. I hope you enjoy this SHORT little piece.
REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.
There was no rest for the civil servants of Clark County, and most certainly not for Conrad Ecklie. God might have rested on Sunday, but that was not the case for the assistant director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. No, he would be slogging through the mound of paperwork on his desk for the duration.
There was just not enough time during the week, between meetings and personnel issues and more meetings, the paperwork always piled up. It had taken him all morning just to get through the invoices which needed review and make it to the vacation and sick leave request forms HR had been screaming about all week. When he scanned the name on the first request, he had to laugh. Grissom always said that he never wanted the AD job, and knowing his propensity for hating paperwork and politics, he finally understood why. This job was all about the paperwork and politics, and nothing about the science. The only things that mattered to the preeminent Dr. Gil Grissom were the science and the truth.
"Well, at least that used to be true," he said to himself. It had certainly been a shock for Conrad to learn that not only was Gil in a relationship, but that he had taken the risk by jumping into bed with Sidle. To him it was an event of the same order as a natural disaster.
Conrad could not deny the woman's appeal on a purely physical level, but he still felt she was less than balanced, and her hasty departure after the West case debacle only proved his theories correct. But it was obvious that Gil's relationship with the woman went well beyond the physical as he struggled to pick up the pieces when she left. It was no wonder the whole team started to fall apart, with their fearless leader still licking his wounds from such a rejection.
Rejection was something Conrad Ecklie was intimately familiar with in his own life. He was still slightly wounded from his divorce, and had yet to build up the courage to venture back out there. It was not from lack of interest, but more from that ever present fear of rejection.
Initially, he wanted to find some subtle way to rub that rejection into Gil's face. He wanted to see that perfect façade melt away, as only he seemed able to evoke. But even he had to admit that the man was obviously suffering enough. And then, of course, she came back. Conrad was still trying to figure that one out. At first he thought she was only there for the mess regarding Brown, but then he realized she came back for him.
He wanted to know exactly what it was that made Gil Grissom such a lucky son of a bitch that he always kept coming out on top. And he wanted to know why that never seemed to work for him. When a woman left Conrad Ecklie, there was never a second act where they ride off into the sunset.
Shaking away from the reverie threatening to overtake him, Conrad pulled that first request from the stack. And that was when he felt true shock.
What he assumed was a simple vacation request, letting Gil spirit away for a wild weekend with his girlfriend on the coast, was actually a Leave of Absence form; an indefinite Leave of Absence.
He needed to think about that one a while. Swiveling his chair around, he reached out to turn the radio on and then leaned back, facing the small window in his office.
Was he really about to be rid of Gil Grissom? The bane of his professional existence for more than fifteen years, the one man that could make his blood boil with nothing more than a single comment, the man who made him look like a rank amateur at every turn, in every thing, save administration. Was it really going to be over?
And why was he leaving? There was no answer to be found on the form; that line was left blank. He always wondered what this day would be like, knowing that Gil was leaving. He had been wrong before, assuming that he would leave because of his promotion, because of Stokes' abduction, because of the burnout, because of the sabbatical, because of what happened to Sidle. But this time it was different. He had the paper right there in front of him to prove it.
As he stared out the window, the radio announcer finished his news report and a big booming voice began to filter out of the speakers. The woman's smoky delivery and the steady, cadenced tinkling of the piano keys were all but ignored. It was the words that took Conrad back to that same spot the year before.
Surprised she did not know where Gil was, he had to shake off his shock in order to get down to business. Sitting down across from her, he pulled out his folder and got started, "Okay then ... uh ... this is an administrative inquiry. You and your supervisor were in direct violation of lab policy ...
Sidle matter of factly interrupted him with a single word correction, "Are."
Trying not to be rattled by her quiet insistence, he continued, "Are in direct violation of lab policy, which states that members of the same forensic team may not engage in a romantic relationship." He looked up from the file and asked, "So when did you and Supervisor Grissom begin your relationship?"
Without betraying a hint of emotion, Sidle simply answered, "We've always had a relationship."
Frustrated by her lack of reaction and the obvious tactic to make him choose his words more carefully, he became more than a little frustrated. "I mean, when did you become intimate?"
She actually thought about it for a moment, and the serene look of contemplation on her face was starting to annoy him. "Two years ago." Then, she pressed her brows slightly together, though she was trying to remember something. "I think it was a Sunday."
As the very talented singer launched into the final chorus of the poignant song, Conrad realized that Gil Grissom found his "Sunday Kind of Love" and it was readily apparent that it had lasted well past Saturday night.
A/N2: The song is "I Want a Sunday Kind of Love" by the incomparable Etta James.