Note: Ah the wonder of side ideas… how doth they divert me from my task. I need to start workin' on "Uh-Oh" some more… but I keep delaying… so um yea; here's my take on Grissom's psychological (ooo big word) reaction to Catherine at the end of BoP….
Enjoy!
(the thoughts are italicized)
"Tough case huh?" I ask; although I don't really need too. She's already into the liquor.
"Ugh. Just give me a straight-ahead murder any day," she answered—tired.
I guess that's one way to think about it.
"Well—you wouldn't be human if it didn't affect you," I reason. She pauses taking a sip of her drink. She looks at me for a second.
"I heard about you and—Sara."
Oh great. Just—stay calm.
"Sara—ya know. She gets very emotional."
Good—that was good. There's no need to panic. That was good. Whew.
"Are you in denial?"
What the hell.
"No, that's way too analytical. You got burned bad, huh?" She raises her glass. "Welcome to the club."
What the—how—how much did she put in there?
"I got third-degree burns from my marriage. Happens to everybody." Everybody just moves on."
Is—she done yet?
"Good—let's move on."
Maybe she'll forget what she was talking about.
"But you have to deal with it!"
I guess not.
"You have to deal with it first. You have to deal with it before it—goes—away."
I—no—before what—I
"You are the supervisor. You have responsibilities and people are making a family around you whether you like it or not, whether you give them permission or not." She pauses—I feel her stare.
I-I don't—can't—calm down Gil.
Breath.
Stay calm.
"We don't have to go to the Grand Tetons together-"
That's a refreshing thought.
"Just every now and then-you gotta lift—your head up from out of that microscope."
She pauses.
Sigh.
She does have a point.
Even when she's inebriated.
Dammit.
She has a point.
Sigh.
"Yeah."
She gives me a drunken grin.
Yeah.
She leaves; taking her drink—making her way over to the couch—to the window.
I wipe my hands on the dishrag I'm holding.
Yeah.
But—How am I supposed to say—I'm sorry?
I-I don't know.
How am I supposed to apologize—apologize for—
Everything?
I don't know.
Think—Gil. Think.
Think.
Ok-ok.
Hm.
Dinner?
No…she hates you right now. Lord knows what'll happen.
Good point.
Chocolate?
Could do better.
Hm.
A card?
NO. This isn't Christmas.
Right.
Flowers? Yes—flowers are good.
Yes—good.
Right.
Ok.
I need a number. Right—a number.
Where?
The book.
Where is that book—where'd I put it—there it is.
"Hello?"
Breathe. Ignore the heartbeat.
"Hi, yea uh hi uh—I'd like to get some flowers for a girl-"
"Ok. The roses-"
"Ooh. Not flowers—a plant—a living plant. She likes vegetation."
Keep breathing. Stay calm.
Calm.
"Yeah—that'd be fine."
"Ok; and who is it being delivered to?"
"To a—uh—Sara Sidle. Delivered at the—uh—CSI division Las Vegas Police Department—the one out on a, North Trop Boulevard."
"Ok."
"Yea and you can bill me at the same place."
"And you are--?"
"Gil Grissom."
"Ok Mr. Grissom—and what would you like on the sentiment?"
What.
"The sentiment?"
"Yes sir—on the card."
"O-o-yea on the card—Oh uh, uh—have it say—"
That—words—alone; aren't enough to-
No—No—I can't.
Not that.
"Have it say-a—"
Sorry?
No.
Something—else.
Something—more.
Oh.
But keep it—simple.
Simple.
Yea—simple.
Hm.
How about—a—
How about uh—
"From Grissom."
~FIN~
I hoped u liked that one… And again, I hoped it made sense. I doubt that was in character… but it gave me something to do for an hour or so. (mad props to Sarah for letting me bounce ideas off of her…aussies still rule)
Have a good day (or night)!
Hmmm.
I do have another idea….. waitaminute—who took my lightbulb!?