Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing.
Life of Grissom
Even from inside the lab, Sara could hear the rain pouring outside. The lab seemed so quiet that night, almost too quiet for Christmas Eve, making the sound of rain all the more striking. Maybe it was the heavy down pour, or having to watch and work while the crime rate rose over the holidays that dampened the Christmas spirit, but there was definitely no good cheer in the lab that night. There was no music playing, no mistletoe hanging in any of the doorways, no sounds other than feet pattering and squeaking on the floor, machines humming as they ran, and rain.
It was still busy, despite the quiet offering evidence to the contrary. The lab techs that were there were pulling double duty, working two labs at once, or covering multiple shifts. Sara moved from lab to lab, waiting for results from the homicide she and Warrick had begun investigating the shift before. After speaking with Hodges in trace, she moved to Wendy in DNA, Mandy in the fingerprint lab, and back to Hodges, now in tox, having covered Henry's shift. Mostly she waited as the lab techs tried to work through the backlog. Unless she could find something for them to compare the evidence to, she would have to continue to wait.
Sara hated the waiting game. All of her evidence was in one lab or another. Vartann was doing his own share of leg work, interviewing witnesses by day and waiting for her to tell him something that could lead them somewhere by night. She just had to wait for the lab techs to tell her something first. She had the autopsy report, having gone over it with Warrick and Doc Robbins the night before, but apart from that, she had nothing to work with at the moment.
Normally she'd occupy this down time by going over all of the details with Warrick, talking out theories and so forth, but Warrick had taken the night off, wanting to spend Christmas Eve with his new wife and extended family, leaving Sara to wait out the results alone. Perhaps, she considered, it was better to wait for the next shift to hash out their theories. They really hadn't much more to discuss at the moment, nor could they rework their initial theories as the evidence was not in yet. One more shift gave Warrick a chance to rest and reenergize himself with what would likely be a large Christmas dinner. It would also, at the very least, give the results from each of the labs a reasonable shot of being in.
Sara moved through the quiet halls, to the break room, almost feeling like she was the only person in the lab, despite having just left Hodges. Nick and Greg were out with Sofia at a scene, Grissom had his own scene and Catherine, like Warrick, took the night off to spend with family. Sara picked up a mug and poured herself some coffee. Taking one sip, she quickly spit the coffee out. Her coffee, or rather the beverage that bore a minor resemblance to coffee, was thick, old and cold, and so completely offensive to the palate, even she couldn't drink it. She poured out the remainder of the coffee from both her mug and the pot and began a fresh batch, swiping the grounds from Greg's stash, not feeling guilty in the least. Why shouldn't she enjoy a good cup of coffee on Christmas Eve?
While waiting for the coffee to brew, she decided to slip into the DNA lab once more. Wendy looked up, shaking her head and looking just a little overwhelmed. Sara felt for her, hearing through the office grapevine that Wendy had requested the night off, wanting to spend Christmas with family in San Francisco, but as the new girl, found herself not only working her own shift, but covering swing shift over the holidays as well.
Sara offered Wendy a look of apology and a sympathetic smile. Wendy returned the smile with one of her own, just as sympathetic, as though the two women were in the same boat, stuck in the lab on the eve of Christmas, one slammed with work, the other waiting. Sara didn't tell Wendy that she didn't mind working the holidays, that she worked every holiday, preferring to spend it in the lab or at a scene, rather than alone in her apartment. Even though there was a chance that this holiday might be different, that she may have someone to spend the holiday with this year, she was still alright with working it. She was happy to be working it, because the chance of having someone to spend the holiday with was still just a chance. The relationship or whatever it was they had or were doing still felt so new and she was unsure of the parameters of it, unsure really, of what it even was. She was unsure whether he would want to celebrate the holiday with her, or if he even thought of it at all. She hadn't wanted to push anything by asking, so she had left it without so much as even hinting at it. Besides, he was working too, so it wasn't like her working would have been interrupting any plans they may have made.
She slipped out of the DNA lab, letting Wendy continue with her work. Just as she stepped through the entrance, Grissom passed, head down, a sad, defeated look upon his face. He didn't even seem to notice her. He just kept walking towards his office, shoulders slumped, his funny gait slow and heavy. Brass had been following a few paces behind and Sara stopped him with a hand on the detective's arm. "Rough scene?"
Brass nodded. "Apparent suicide. Grissom still has to finish processing, but it's pretty clear what happened."
Sara winced. Even though a rise in suicides were about par for the Christmas season, and they'd all investigated a number of them on Christmas Eve and Christmas in years past, it never got any easier. "Anything I can do? I'm playing the waiting game here, so until somebody gets me some results, my hands are free."
"Thanks, Sara, but I don't think Grissom has anything for you. I already spoke to someone at PD from the vic's home town, asking them to contact the vic's family and Grissom only has to drop off evidence. Unless the evidence doesn't match the victim, we should be ready to close this."
Sara nodded. She glanced down the hall at Grissom's disappearing form. She bit her lip, debating whether or not she should head over to Grissom's office to offer whatever she could, even if there wasn't anything she could do to help with his case. She just wanted him to know she was there for him. After only a moment's deliberation, she decided to leave Grissom be, afraid of his reaction or of his thinking she'd overstepped some bounds. If he wanted to talk about it, he would, in his own time and way. She glanced once more to where he'd been before turning back to Brass. "Tell him there is fresh coffee in the break room, the good stuff."
"I will. I may even force him to drink it."
Sara smirked. She gave Brass's shoulder a squeeze and headed off to the break room for her own fresh cup.
Hours later, she was in the break room again, this time with Nick and Greg. She hadn't gotten much further in her investigation and debated calling it a night and heading home, but she didn't want to leave until she knew what Grissom was doing, if he was getting off soon and if he wanted company. Nick and Greg were talking about a Christmas breakfast, but she'd already declined, though she wondered if she'd declined too soon. What if Grissom said yes to breakfast? She wouldn't be able to change her mind without it looking suspicious. Normally it would be easy enough to forget about seeing him that morning, but on Christmas… She thought she might be alright with not spending that morning with him, or, if she had to, sharing him, but she didn't think she could watch him leave to spend it with anyone else.
Brass entered the room, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He turned back to the group, looking as though the night had dragged out on him. Sara took the last sip of her coffee and put down her mug. Brass could, inadvertently, give her a clue as to how she might be spending Christmas morning. "How is it coming? Did Grissom get the results?"
"DNA, fingerprints and handwriting were all a match to the victim. Grissom closed the case. He is in the morgue now, finishing up with the vic's wife."
Nick and Greg looked at her. She stood up, moving to the sink. "Grissom pulled a suicide."
"That sucks."
"Do you know why?"
Brass looked at Greg. "Why he gave himself the suicide?"
"Why the victim killed himself."
"Financial difficulties. The victim ran a small motel in Baker, California and it went under a while back. He couldn't sell the building, nor could he find another job. The bills started to add up; the bank was threatening to foreclose… The vic told his wife he found work here, took the last of his money and tried to turn that little bit of cash into a few dollars more. He lost it all and then some and didn't want to go home a failure."
"Why would he come all the way here? He could have saved a bit by only going as far as Primm and hitting a casino there."
"Apparently the casinos and motels going up in Primm and that area are what's responsible for all of the motel closures in Baker. Vic didn't want to support the places that sunk him."
Sara shook her head, setting her mug down in the sink. She turned back towards the room and watched as Grissom entered, standing in the doorway looking weary and defeated. She stared at him as he lifted his eyes to hers.
"Hey Griss, Greg and I were about to go for breakfast. Do you want to come?"
Sara held her breath, waiting to see what his answer would be. Grissom's eyes left hers and he turned to Nick. "No thanks, Nick. Not today."
"You sure? Christmas morning. We thought we'd hit up brunch at the Stratosphere."
"No thank you."
Sara let out her breath. Grissom's eyes met hers again and he was staring, his gaze deep and penetrating, requesting, telling, communicating exactly what it was he wanted. She gave a slight nod, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed the exchange.
There were no eyes, well, except Grissom's, on her. Nick was standing up, now looking at Brass. "Brass?"
Brass shook his head.
"Alright." Nick moved to the sink, his arm unintentionally brushing against hers when he placed his mug in the sink. She shifted away slightly, giving him room to rinse out their mugs. "Sure you're not coming, Sara?"
Sara shook her head. "Sorry, Nicky."
"I could make that Christmas breakfast very appealing, Sara."
She smirked. "Tempting, Greg, but no."
"Well, alright then, I guess it's just me and Greggo." Nick turned away from her, heading with Greg past Grissom and out the door. "Merry Christmas everybody."
"Merry Christmas," she and Brass returned simultaneously. Grissom's own, "Merry Christmas, Nick, Greg," followed directly after.
Sara leaned against the counter, her eyes returning to Grissom.
"Gil, join me for a drink?"
Grissom shook his head at Brass's question. He let his stare penetrate hers once more before turning to Brass. "No, I'm going to head home. I'll see you tonight."
He left the room and Sara waited, feeling Brass's eyes on her. She pushed herself away from the counter. "I should probably head home too. Merry Christmas, Jim."
Brass nodded. "You too."
She walked by him, out of the room and down the hall. Taking her time in the locker room, she pulled on a scarf and her coat, bundling herself up. It was still pouring rain when she stepped out of the lab and she scurried to her car.
Grissom was just unlocking his front door when she pulled up to his townhouse. She parked beside his vehicle and hurried up the steps while he waited in the doorway. He didn't say anything, letting her pass in front of him.
The layers she'd just put on came off. Grissom still didn't speak as he shed his own coat and removed his shoes. Wordlessly, he disappeared into his bedroom and reappeared in a t-shirt and jeans and made his way into the kitchen, she, following silently.
Sara watched as Grissom pulled out a couple of bowl from the cupboard and opened up the fridge. Apart from Grissom's rummaging, the only sound was the pounding of the rain on the roof. She glanced towards the ceiling, listening to the rain until Grissom caught her attention by handing her a spoon and a bowl full of fruit and yogurt and granola. "Thanks," she whispered quietly and Grissom nodded, picking up his own bowl and walking to the living room.
Sara sat next to him on the sofa, leaving a little space between them. She drew her legs up and pulled her feet under her before starting on her food. Beside her, Grissom reached for the TV remote and began scanning the channels to see what they'd find on in the wee small hours of the morning. It's a Wonderful Life was playing on TCM, and Grissom settled on it, placing the remote down and joining the movie already in progress. Sara sat quietly, eating and glancing between the Grissom and the screen. She finished her fruit, yogurt and granola and placed the bowl down on the coffee table. As they watched Jimmy Stewart's wild desperation take over the screen, Grissom reached for her hand, clasping it tightly in his. She squeezed back and felt herself being tugged a little closer.
"He had two young children."
Sara's eyes shot from the screen to Grissom. Grissom was staring straight ahead, his grip on her hand still firm. She didn't know what to say as Grissom's vocal introspection after a case, while not completely nonexistent, was very rare. She waited, letting him set the pace.
"He tried to win a little money to give his family something of a Christmas and he just kept losing. I watched him on the surveillance tape, walking from table to table, losing more and more, looking increasingly desperate, until he had nothing left. He must have gone back to his hotel room shortly after. He fastened a noose out of the bed sheet, tied the sheet to the ceiling fan, kicked out his chair and hung himself. The fan couldn't hold his weight and was pulled from the ceiling, but not before the drop snapped his neck. When we entered, the chair, the victim and the fan were all piled into one heap. He left a note on the table, telling his wife he was sorry. He wanted to give his family something for Christmas, some hope, but he failed. He couldn't go home having lost the rest of their money at a blackjack table."
Sara closed her eyes, squeezing Grissom's hand again.
"He left behind a family, people that loved him. Those two little children lost their father. How are they going to remember Christmas from now on?" Grissom paused. Sara looked over at him, watching him stare forward. "The victim's wife, she lost a husband. She looked like she lost all hope. She collapsed when she saw the body in the morgue. I caught her and she just…held onto me."
Sara reached over with her free hand and ran it soothingly up and down his forearm and over his elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze. Grissom released her hand and pulled her to his side, wrapping an arm around her. She looked up at him, watching him gaze at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the screen, not saying anything more.
They watched the rest of the movie in silence. Some time later, the credits began to roll and Grissom moved to get up. Sara studied him. His eyes had lost some of their earlier sadness, but the effects of his night had not yet worn off. Sara placed a hand on his chest. "Come on, let's find another Christmas movie to watch."
Grissom looked over at her. "We should get some sleep."
"One more?"
He stared at her and she tried her best to look pleading. He sighed. "What do you want to watch?"
She smiled, kissed him quickly and grabbed the remote, scanning through the channels. There weren't any other good Christmas movies on that early, so she stood and walked over to his movie collection. Quickly finding what she was looking for, she held up the DVD.
"Life of Brian?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked.
"What?"
"It's not really a Christmas movie."
"How can you say that? It's based around the gospel story."
"Sara, it's a parody of the gospel story."
"Therefore appropriate Christmas viewing."
"Or wholly inappropriate."
She knew Grissom had to be feeling a little better to be playing with her now. She gave him a coy smile. "We could watch Gremlins."
"No, it's okay. We'll watch Life of Brian."
Sara smirked and for the first time all morning, Grissom smiled. Sara placed the DVD in the DVD player and curled up against Grissom. He put his arm around her, tenderly brushing back her hair to kiss her forehead. She smiled and snaked her hand under his shirt, briefly caressing his belly before resting her hand upon it and pulling herself in tighter.
It wasn't how she imagined spending that morning, of all mornings, with him, but somehow, for whatever reason, it felt right. It felt as though they were spending the morning as they should, letting the morning pass just as they had so many others, cuddling together of the sofa, erasing the pain of a difficult night with the reassurance of the other. She loved that she was there to help him through a tough night as he had for her so many times. She loved that even though they weren't doing anything they wouldn't do on any other day, it was still so special. She loved that she could feel his chuckles rumble beneath her cheek as the movie played. When the movie was over, Grissom looked significantly lighter. He kissed her. "Thank you."
Sara nodded, leaning in for another kiss. Grissom's lips softly caressed hers. He stood, pulling her up with him. Taking her hand, he led her to his bed, stripped her of her clothing and slowly made love to her before curling around her and falling asleep. It was late in the afternoon when she woke, still enfolded in his embrace. In no hurry to leave the comfort and warmth of his arms, she shifted back into his chest, listening to the rain still pounding on the roof and windows. He stirred behind her, kissed her bare shoulder and then pulled away, sitting up in the bed, his movement drawing the blanket from her and causing her to shiver.
"No," she whined, turning to face him and reaching for him. "Griss, don't. Don't get up. Don't you dare get up. It's cold."
Grissom smirked, leaning over to kiss her. She deepened the kiss, tugging on his shoulders, trying to coerce him back into the bed. He pulled back again.
"Griss, I'm freezing."
"I'll be right back."
Sara watched him disappear into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came out wearing a pair of sweat pants. Instead of rejoining her in bed, he remained standing, opening the curtains and staring out into the pouring rain. She got up slowly, draping the sheet around her as she tip-toed to stand behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his shoulder before resting her chin on it and staring at the rain through the window.
For moments, they stared forward, Grissom resting his arms on the sheet above hers, his thumb brushing over her hand through the thin material. Sara closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the heat of his back against her chest. She tightened her embrace, holding him close until she felt him begin to turn in her arms. He stepped back and her hands dropped. His hands ran up and down the sheet covering her arms, and then slid to her wrists, lightly grasping them and tugging her closer again. His thumbs brushed over the insides of her wrists and he gazed at her. "Merry Christmas, Sara."
She smiled warmly, feeling her eyes beginning to sparkle. "Merry Christmas, Gil."
Merry Christmas
