TITLE-Double Exposure
AUTHOR-Devanie Maxwell
RATING-PG
CATEGORY-VRHA
KEYWORDS-- Grissom/Sara Backstory; Grissom/Catherine friendship.
SPOILERS- Minor for Cool Change
SUMMARY-Catherine finds something in Grissom's apartment that makes her reevaluate her two co-workers.
AUTHOR'S NOTES-This is just a short vignette I was motivated to write in order to clear my head for more Investigating the Magic. Magic is a double chapter right now, so it probably won't be up until next Wednesday. Sorry for any inconvenience. Thanks to Stepf for the rocking beta. Thanks to everyone who reads it; I can't promise it's entertaining. :o)
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
"You do realize that I'm never going to help you haul furniture around here again, don't you?"
Grissom merely stared at his old friend before nodding at a chair. Sighing, Catherine dragged it across the floor toward the breakfast nook.
"That will scratch the floor."
The scraping got louder before she rested it next to the others. "Next time you have your floors refinished try to schedule it for someone else's day off."
"They'd probably complain less."
"Probably." She smiled as she picked up her glass from the counter, the ice clinking loudly in the clear liquid. "So what's next?"
"We just need to move that desk back and lay down the rugs."
"Rugs?" Surveying the sparse room she saw no sign of them.
"They're in the other room." He paused. "If you pull these drawers out I'll go get them."
"Great." Her voice held just a hint of sarcasm. "There's nothing poisonous in there, right?"
"Not anymore." Calling over his shoulder, he continued. "Thanks, Catherine."
"Sure." She eyed the large oak desk before pulling out one of the larger bottom drawers. She wasn't surprised to find several large textbooks. Scanning the covers, she saw most of them had an entomological focus.
Moving on to the next drawer she found stacks of old paid bills stacked together in no discernable filing system. Realizing it probably made perfect sense to him, she stacked the smaller drawer on top of the earlier one. Sticking a hand out reflexively to catch her balance, she shifted position and focused her attention on the left side of the desk now.
"Damn." The nail on her right index finger bent back as she pulled on the brass handle; the drawer seemed to be stuck. With several short pulls she was able to disengage it. She swore again softly as some of the contents spilled into her lap, the wood hitting the floor with a thud.
"Did anything break?" She heard from another room.
Wondering if her condition had ever crossed his mind, she rolled her eyes. "It's fine."
"Good. I'll be out in a minute."
Sifting through the obituaries of people she never knew and notices for seminars she didn't attend, she almost missed the clipping at the bottom of the pile. The yellowed paper was dated September 4, 1996 and the headline read:
Criminalist Honored With Civic Award
Apparently Grissom had consulted on a case in San Francisco involving a missing child. An early break in the case had led to the boy's safe recovery. It was the photo accompanying the blurb that caught her eye, however.
Grissom wasn't looking directly at the camera; his attention seemed to be just out of frame. Looking noticeably younger, his hair contained fewer grays and there were fewer lines around his eyes. The last six years-particularly the last two-had aged him. He looked genuinely happy here; she wondered if it had anything to do with his companion. The one the photo identified merely as guest.
Sara's hair was shorter, making her look younger than her then 25 years. Her simple dark blue slip dress contrasted nicely with Grissom's black suit. Squinting at the photograph, she could see Sara's hand on Grissom's shoulder; her body was pressed against his side.
Raising an eyebrow, Catherine noticed that Grissom's hand cupped Sara's waist a little higher than was socially appropriate for two people who weren't involved. If she were to view the picture objectively, she'd surmise that they were a couple. The fact they were her two co-workers was unnerving. Their current attraction wasn't lost on her, but this photo brought up new questions.
"What's that?" Grissom's voice made her jump.
"What's this?" She waved the article, and then remembered she probably wasn't supposed to see it. "I found it in the drawer."
Watching him take the article, she saw recognition cross his features before a blank expression replaced it. "I was presented with a plaque; there was this missing persons' case…"
"I gathered that. I was more interested in your date."
He gave her the patient look he usually reserved for Nick or a young witness. "That's Sara."
Catherine merely blinked.
"Sidle."
"I know who she is. Why were you there with her? You knew her in San Francisco?"
Crossing the room to get his glass of water, Grissom nodded. "Briefly."
She was a friend and he trusted her. "How 'briefly'?"
"On and off for a year. She was in one of my seminars. She impressed me, so I started working with her when I was in town. I was kind of a mentor."
Catherine raised a skeptical eyebrow. She had always had her own theories as to Grissom and Sara's history, but this photograph was the only thing that showed their connection before Vegas. "Did you take all the girls you mentored to parties?"
"No."
Rolling her eyes in frustration, she rose to her feet. "Why Sara then? Was she special?"
Grissom tilted his head toward her before moving to the kitchen. "Did you want something to eat? I have chips."
"Answer the question, Gil."
Grissom seemed almost amused now. Almost. "I probably have some dip in here somewhere."
"Damn it. Were you and Sara involved?"
"Define involved." He looked absolutely puritan.
Smirking, Catherine considered the question. He probably had no idea as to her definition of 'involved.' "Did you see each other outside work?"
"Yes."
That was easy enough. "So, you dated."
"Catherine…" He trailed off as he took in the glare coming from her direction. "In the technical sense, yes."
Now they were getting somewhere. She took a shot. "Was it a physical relationship?"
"Define physical."
Talking to Grissom about anything other than science was akin to beating your head against the wall. "Don't be obtuse. Did you and Sara have a physical relationship?" Her speech slowed at the end of the question.
"By your standards or mine?"
"Either."
"Well, then. Mine." Walking across the room again he looked almost proud of his response.
"What does that mean?" Catherine had to physically restrain herself from stomping her foot.
He shrugged. "Can we move this desk now?"
"This conversation isn't over." Pinning him with a direct look, she stood at the end of the unwieldy piece of furniture.
"I'm sure it's not. You're like a form of Chinese water torture. Drip. Drip. Drip."
She stared at him, her expression a mix of frustration and mock-offense. "That's not true."
"Okay."
They moved the desk across the floor in silence, finally setting it down gently against the wall. Grissom turned to go prepare some drinks. He barely made it to the other side of the room before he heard the voice behind him.
"How would you define your relationship now?"
FIN
AUTHOR-Devanie Maxwell
RATING-PG
CATEGORY-VRHA
KEYWORDS-- Grissom/Sara Backstory; Grissom/Catherine friendship.
SPOILERS- Minor for Cool Change
SUMMARY-Catherine finds something in Grissom's apartment that makes her reevaluate her two co-workers.
AUTHOR'S NOTES-This is just a short vignette I was motivated to write in order to clear my head for more Investigating the Magic. Magic is a double chapter right now, so it probably won't be up until next Wednesday. Sorry for any inconvenience. Thanks to Stepf for the rocking beta. Thanks to everyone who reads it; I can't promise it's entertaining. :o)
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
"You do realize that I'm never going to help you haul furniture around here again, don't you?"
Grissom merely stared at his old friend before nodding at a chair. Sighing, Catherine dragged it across the floor toward the breakfast nook.
"That will scratch the floor."
The scraping got louder before she rested it next to the others. "Next time you have your floors refinished try to schedule it for someone else's day off."
"They'd probably complain less."
"Probably." She smiled as she picked up her glass from the counter, the ice clinking loudly in the clear liquid. "So what's next?"
"We just need to move that desk back and lay down the rugs."
"Rugs?" Surveying the sparse room she saw no sign of them.
"They're in the other room." He paused. "If you pull these drawers out I'll go get them."
"Great." Her voice held just a hint of sarcasm. "There's nothing poisonous in there, right?"
"Not anymore." Calling over his shoulder, he continued. "Thanks, Catherine."
"Sure." She eyed the large oak desk before pulling out one of the larger bottom drawers. She wasn't surprised to find several large textbooks. Scanning the covers, she saw most of them had an entomological focus.
Moving on to the next drawer she found stacks of old paid bills stacked together in no discernable filing system. Realizing it probably made perfect sense to him, she stacked the smaller drawer on top of the earlier one. Sticking a hand out reflexively to catch her balance, she shifted position and focused her attention on the left side of the desk now.
"Damn." The nail on her right index finger bent back as she pulled on the brass handle; the drawer seemed to be stuck. With several short pulls she was able to disengage it. She swore again softly as some of the contents spilled into her lap, the wood hitting the floor with a thud.
"Did anything break?" She heard from another room.
Wondering if her condition had ever crossed his mind, she rolled her eyes. "It's fine."
"Good. I'll be out in a minute."
Sifting through the obituaries of people she never knew and notices for seminars she didn't attend, she almost missed the clipping at the bottom of the pile. The yellowed paper was dated September 4, 1996 and the headline read:
Criminalist Honored With Civic Award
Apparently Grissom had consulted on a case in San Francisco involving a missing child. An early break in the case had led to the boy's safe recovery. It was the photo accompanying the blurb that caught her eye, however.
Grissom wasn't looking directly at the camera; his attention seemed to be just out of frame. Looking noticeably younger, his hair contained fewer grays and there were fewer lines around his eyes. The last six years-particularly the last two-had aged him. He looked genuinely happy here; she wondered if it had anything to do with his companion. The one the photo identified merely as guest.
Sara's hair was shorter, making her look younger than her then 25 years. Her simple dark blue slip dress contrasted nicely with Grissom's black suit. Squinting at the photograph, she could see Sara's hand on Grissom's shoulder; her body was pressed against his side.
Raising an eyebrow, Catherine noticed that Grissom's hand cupped Sara's waist a little higher than was socially appropriate for two people who weren't involved. If she were to view the picture objectively, she'd surmise that they were a couple. The fact they were her two co-workers was unnerving. Their current attraction wasn't lost on her, but this photo brought up new questions.
"What's that?" Grissom's voice made her jump.
"What's this?" She waved the article, and then remembered she probably wasn't supposed to see it. "I found it in the drawer."
Watching him take the article, she saw recognition cross his features before a blank expression replaced it. "I was presented with a plaque; there was this missing persons' case…"
"I gathered that. I was more interested in your date."
He gave her the patient look he usually reserved for Nick or a young witness. "That's Sara."
Catherine merely blinked.
"Sidle."
"I know who she is. Why were you there with her? You knew her in San Francisco?"
Crossing the room to get his glass of water, Grissom nodded. "Briefly."
She was a friend and he trusted her. "How 'briefly'?"
"On and off for a year. She was in one of my seminars. She impressed me, so I started working with her when I was in town. I was kind of a mentor."
Catherine raised a skeptical eyebrow. She had always had her own theories as to Grissom and Sara's history, but this photograph was the only thing that showed their connection before Vegas. "Did you take all the girls you mentored to parties?"
"No."
Rolling her eyes in frustration, she rose to her feet. "Why Sara then? Was she special?"
Grissom tilted his head toward her before moving to the kitchen. "Did you want something to eat? I have chips."
"Answer the question, Gil."
Grissom seemed almost amused now. Almost. "I probably have some dip in here somewhere."
"Damn it. Were you and Sara involved?"
"Define involved." He looked absolutely puritan.
Smirking, Catherine considered the question. He probably had no idea as to her definition of 'involved.' "Did you see each other outside work?"
"Yes."
That was easy enough. "So, you dated."
"Catherine…" He trailed off as he took in the glare coming from her direction. "In the technical sense, yes."
Now they were getting somewhere. She took a shot. "Was it a physical relationship?"
"Define physical."
Talking to Grissom about anything other than science was akin to beating your head against the wall. "Don't be obtuse. Did you and Sara have a physical relationship?" Her speech slowed at the end of the question.
"By your standards or mine?"
"Either."
"Well, then. Mine." Walking across the room again he looked almost proud of his response.
"What does that mean?" Catherine had to physically restrain herself from stomping her foot.
He shrugged. "Can we move this desk now?"
"This conversation isn't over." Pinning him with a direct look, she stood at the end of the unwieldy piece of furniture.
"I'm sure it's not. You're like a form of Chinese water torture. Drip. Drip. Drip."
She stared at him, her expression a mix of frustration and mock-offense. "That's not true."
"Okay."
They moved the desk across the floor in silence, finally setting it down gently against the wall. Grissom turned to go prepare some drinks. He barely made it to the other side of the room before he heard the voice behind him.
"How would you define your relationship now?"
FIN