Yes, Sara There is a Santa Claus
He hated rain.
It always seemed to come when he had said something mean or cruel to her.
He didn't mean for it to come out so harsh but it usually did.
He did have feelings… for her.
He even loved her.
She would never know by his actions.
His actions never gave his feelings away.
They stood there as the sky threatened to open wide drenching their crime scene and now they were rushing around trying to salvage what they could.
He glanced over and saw her fast at work.
Always the professional, she was.
She had just offered to bring dinner to the lab on Christmas Eve since once again both of them were working.
He had said no.
It was a gesture filled with hope and dreams.
He had just dashed them without thinking.
It wasn't that he didn't want to have dinner with her even if it was there in the break room of the lab with Brass and whoever got stuck working on the holiday.
This year, he planned to force her to take off for the holiday.
This year, he wanted her to do something for herself.
He knew the only reason she worked the holidays was to keep him company.
He had begun working Christmas Eve through New Years after his mother passed away. There was no reason for celebrating once his only living relative had passed. He chose to allow the others time with their families. It was then that Sara began working the holidays as well. The first year he had welcomed her company.
It bothered him after the third year.
By the fifth year, he resented it.
That is, until he found out she had no family of her own.
In one evening all of the pieces just sort of fit into place.
He learned about her father's death at the hands of her mother.
He learned that she had witnessed the crime.
He learned she had just been a child.
He learned she had grown up in foster care.
He learned that privacy also meant secrets.
He learned that sometimes those secrets were dark.
He learned a lot about himself in that one evening.
He learned that despite his attempts at his own privacy Sara was very much a part of his life.
He learned just how much he really loved her.
This year, he wanted her to do something different.
He wanted her to get a life.
And, she almost did.
He knew the incident with Hank had hurt her but inwardly he had been relieved when it ended.
He realized he didn't want her to have a life…without him.
He had meant to elaborate on his "no" when they received the urgent call of a 419.
She had swiftly turned and disappeared.
Of course, it had to rain.
It was as if she had some power over the weather.
He didn't like rain, as he mumbled for the hundredth time.
With rain, there were ample droplets of water on everything…everyone. It was difficult to distinguish a droplet of rain from a tear. That is, in the field, at least. She could stand there all night and cry and he wouldn't know it. The rain would drown out any sounds of crying. The shaking of shoulders could be explained away by chills.
Yes, he hated rain.
Sara, on the other hand, liked rain. She could cry to her heart's content without being discovered. If they asked her about her tears, she could blame it on the rain. If they asked her about her racking sobs, she could just say she was chilled.
Yes, she liked rain.
As he stood there watching, she was the first to maneuver through the pouring rain, collecting bits of evidence as her face remained hidden behind the hood. She cursed at herself for even thinking that he would want to have dinner with her.
What were you thinking, Sara?
Just because he held your hand…
Protected your job…
It was pity and nothing more…
"Sara?"
She turned and their eyes met.
"You okay? I've been calling," said Grissom.
"Sorry. It's the rain. It's coming down pretty hard. We better hurry," she called above the sound of the pelting rain.
His hand reached out to touch her but she stepped back.
He did the same.
"I think we have everything," he called.
They were back in the lab within an hour.
He was relieved.
Now, they were on even terms.
Now, he could observe her more closely.
She pretended to be immersed in work but the truth of the matter, there had been few cases. Even the case tonight was already solved. It was just a matter of preserving the evidence. She joined the others in the break room taking her place beside Nick.
He nudged her shoulder.
"We could tell the weather by your hair," he chuckled.
She groaned. "It's naturally curly….rain tends to make it…"
"I like it," Nick spoke up quickly. "You should wear it that way…not hide the obvious."
He managed to get a slight smile from her.
Grissom stepped into the break room and headed for the coffee.
"So, Griss, what are the plans for the holidays?" asked Nick.
"Your leave has been approved Nick," he called out.
Nick smiled. "My mother really likes you. She keeps thinking that one Christmas I'm not going to be able to come home."
"You're such a momma's boy," teased Catherine.
"Yes, I am," Nick said proudly.
"What about you Greg?" asked Catherine.
"I'm an only child. My mother would insist I quit my job if I couldn't come home for Christmas," whined Greg.
"Well, my grandmother insists on me showing up so she can impress her church ladies," replied Warrick.
"Like you mind," chuckled Nick.
"No, I don't," smiled Warrick. "Those ladies can cook."
The guys chuckled.
Grissom even smiled.
"Well, I have Lindsey and mom," said Catherine. "Only, I'm not cooking this year. We're going to Mom's."
No one asked Grissom or Sara.
They had learned over the years not to ask about their plans.
They were always the same.
They worked.
They worked together.
"I hope that each of you have a wonderful time…cause you're going to owe me when you return," chided Grissom.
"You mean, we're going to owe you and Sara," corrected Greg.
"Sara is on leave this year," announced Grissom. "I'm working solo."
Sara's head popped up from the crossword puzzle she had taken from the table.
He took it from her hand. "I believe that is mine."
"So Sara, where are you…" Nick stopped when he saw the expression on Sara's face.
Apparently, it was news to her also.
"Sorry, I didn't know that belonged to anyone," she mumbled.
Grissom sat down at the table, placing his glasses on as he dove into the puzzle.
"What did your family do for Christmas when you were growing up?" asked Catherine to the group.
"Mine has always been the same," announced Nick. "Every year we decorate the tree together…I mean not a bulb goes on the tree unless everyone is there and then we sing carols…lots of eggnog…stories…of Christmas past…by then it's Christmas Day and we all help cook this huge breakfast…of course we then pass out until later…I used to lie there in my bed and smell mom's cooking."
"My grandmother always had our tree up the day after Thanksgiving. I would still be sluggish from the turkey but she would have me hoisting that thing down from the attic along with the decorations. I used to try to persuade her to get a real one but she would have no part of it. She would say that she didn't want to cut something so beautiful just to throw it away in a couple of weeks. I remember one year, I saved my money and bought her a real tree. When I came home from college, she had planted it in the back yard," chuckled Warrick.
The others joined him.
"Mom always insisted on a cut tree," said Greg. "She would send me along with Grandpa Olaf to pick out the best one. While we decorated the tree, Grandpa Olaf would tell stories….always the same ones…we didn't mind."
"Well, ours was never traditional…not with Sam involved. He would insist that we come to the casino for Christmas Eve for dinner. We would go to the penthouse and stare out over Vegas. It seems so beautiful from above. Christmas Day we would spend it either at Mom's or my house. Sometimes, Sam would drop in and stay for a few hours. Mom always insisted on dragging out old photos of previous Christmas get togethers…embarrassing everyone…but we never really minded. Eddie and I always seemed to get along better at Christmas. It's the one time of the year where we didn't fight," admitted Catherine.
The room was now quiet.
"What about you Grissom?" asked Greg.
All eyes shot to Grissom, including Sara's.
"Christmas was always a big event at our house. By seven, I was having trouble believing in the whole Santa thing…it just seemed impossible. My father insisted that I believe or at least pretend to believe for another year or so. He went to great lengths to convince me. He and I had lengthy discussions about the possibility of a sleigh that could fly."
He grew quiet for a moment. The others were on the edge of their seats.
"My mother loved Christmas. She insisted we attend mass followed by dinner…we always opened a gift on Christmas Eve…just one…it always seemed to be the best. It was sort of a way of keeping me out of the presents until morning."
The guys chuckled.
"So you peaked," said Greg.
"Didn't you?" asked Nick. "My sisters and I began hunting for presents the day after Thanksgiving."
"My grandmother hid them in the attic one year…I got my behind whacked for looking," chuckled Warrick.
"Hey Sara…" Greg was interrupted by Grissom.
"Break is over," announced Grissom.
The others slowly sauntered out.
Grissom stayed behind.
As Sara started to leave, he called her.
He waited until they were alone.
"I wanted to talk with you about your leave," he said softly.
"I didn't ask off," she murmured.
"No, you didn't," he admitted. "I've marked you off. You've worked the holidays every year. It's time you didn't."
She blinked.
He was not only turning her dinner invitation down but he didn't even want to see her during the holidays.
She turned quickly to hide her face.
"Sara, you deserve a life…not just a life at the lab," he tried to explain.
"You didn't have to do that," she stammered with her back to him.
"Do what?" he asked sounding confused.
"Interrupt Greg," she pouted.
"Oh, that," he confessed. "I wasn't sure…you uhm…"
"Look, I don't need your pity," she glared.
"It wasn't pity! They don't know…I was just trying to…" he stopped when he watched her hurry from the room.
Well, that went well, Grissom…
He cursed inwardly.
He thought it would be best if he retreated to the sanctuary of his office.
Hours passed and Brass appeared.
He sat down and waited for Grissom to finish marking the crossword puzzle.
"Heard you nixed Sara's plan about Christmas dinner," fumed Brass.
"How do you know…" Grissom stopped.
He knew.
Sara had told him.
If she told Brass….
She must be really upset…
Sara only talks with Brass when she's hurt…
"She's not working this year," Grissom insisted.
"Fine, let her bring dinner here," replied Brass.
"No."
"You know, she only works so she can be with you," pointed out Brass.
"She only works because she…She needs to get a life…she can't if she spends all of her time here," retorted Grissom.
"So she's supposed to get a life in just a few days?" asked Brass.
"She can make plans," replied Grissom.
Brass cursed and started to reply when his beeper went off.
"We're going to continue this," warned Brass.
The case turned out to be a false alarm.
It seems a dummy was found.
"Santa has died," chuckled Nick. "I guess Christmas is canceled."
"Who goes to this extreme…I mean look at this…it looks lifelike," said David as he examined the body of a dummy dressed liked Santa.
"I did," admitted the man standing behind them.
They turned to see a man looking much like Santa.
"And you are?" asked Nick.
"Nicholas Kringle," replied the man.
The others stared at him.
"Not a joke," he muttered. "Real name…not fake."
Sara and Greg exchanged glances.
"My son didn't believe," said Mr. Kringle. "I guess it's because of me…always seeing me dress like Santa…it's a living. He decided at the age of five that Santa did not exist so…"
"You had a dummy made?" asked David.
"I was going to use him to convince my son…let my son think it was me while I played the real Santa… my wife got angry when she heard about the scheme and threw the dummy out the window. She's tired of the whole Santa thing. He came crashing down…scared the hell out of the neighbors…they called it in when they didn't get a pulse. They thought it was me."
Sara and Greg tried to hide the snickers.
"It was worth seeing her in handcuffs even if it was just for an hour or so," replied Mr. Kringle.
"You mean you didn't admit that it was a dummy?" asked Nick.
"Not at first," he admitted. "I finished dinner and then...I came out."
Grissom frowned.
"Neighbor passed out. They had to call the paramedics. My wife was screaming,'Death to Santa'…it was a mess."
The others were still chuckling over the incident as they sat in the break room eating pizza.
Grissom stood outside the door as he listened to their conversations.
"So what would your ideal Christmas be?" asked Greg.
"Spending it in Hawaii," replied Catherine. "With a hunk."
"I'd like to take a girlfriend home," said Nick. "So my mom would stop trying to hook me up with someone. She and I do not have the same taste."
Warrick grinned. "Me, I'd like to be married…give my grandmother grandkids so she wouldn't focus on me so much. I don't mind so much…Just don't ever want to disappoint her…hard not to be a bad boy some of the time."
"I hear yah!" called out Nick. "Here's to Momma's and Grandma's bad boys."
The guys held up their pizza slices in unity.
Catherine gawked.
"I'd like to bring some hottie to meet the family," added Greg. "Someone who would turn Grandpa Olif's head…then I'd know she was a hottie."
The guys chuckled.
"What about you Sara?" asked Greg.
"I always wanted a Christmas tree that reached the ceiling of my apartment…I have to settle for a small one because I can't hoist it up the stairs…of course then I would want dinner with…a hunk," she added not wanting to admit she wanted Grissom.
"I'm with you," chimed in Catherine.
Sara was relieved when the conversation reverted to the fact that the guys had eaten more than their share of the pizza.
One slice remained.
"Think we should leave it for Grissom?" asked Nick.
"I heard he had dinner plans," said Catherine.
"Dinner plans?" asked Warrick.
"Yeah, Lady Heather was waiting in the lobby for him," replied Catherine as she reached for the pizza but it was snatched up by Greg.
"Greg, don't eat that pizza!" warned Catherine.
"I only got two slices," whined Greg.
"I want that," she demanded.
Sara finished off her water.
Grissom leaned against the wall.
He knew that…about the tree.
She mentioned it once.
It was three years ago when they worked that case on Christmas Eve in the park and Sara had stood there staring up at the decorated tree.
He had collected a few other tidbits of information.
She loved huge trees decorated with old fashioned ornaments…
She loved ribbons and bows…
She also liked warm fuzzy slippers and cotton gowns…
She loved the smell of cinnamon and fresh baked cookies…
She never believed in Santa…
Not even once…
He glanced into the room.
She seemed sad.
She always seemed sad.
I wish I could make her happy just once…
Make her believe…
Yes, Sara, there is a Santa.
His eyes twinkled as his brain formulated a plan.
Note from author:
This is my very first Christmas story! It is only six chapters long so I will post a chapter every day until it is completed. Please be kind and leave a review for each chapter.
Take care,
Penny