A Break in Professionalism
Summary: Response to the Unbound challenge
A/N : First and last lines are provided. My first time responding to the challenge. Constructive criticism is more than welcomed.
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to Alliance Atlantis, CBS, Anthony Zuicker and other entities. Please don't sue me. You wouldn't like to see me sued. It would be a waste of time and money.
Sitting in the emergency room lobby, Sara could sense a distinct shift in her relationship with her supervisor. He hadn't said a word since their arrival but he didn't need to. At this point it was the least of her worries. No, not while her heart was somewhere deeper in the one of the rooms of Desert Palms Hospital.
Catching a quick glance in her direction he noticed the tension in each and every muscle. Was that even physically possible? This was far from the Sara he knew. In all his years of working with her, she was the consummate professional. He came to trust Sara as the go to person when accuracy and efficiency were key. Sure, he had seen her emotional outbursts when a case hit a dead end, but this was different. It was as if she didn't know what to do and the insecurity of it all was manifesting itself under her skin. If he were a friend, he would try and reassure her. He would tell her that these things happen every day with no dire consequences. He would even try and fit in how seeing this side of her only made him admire her more. But he wasn't a friend, may never truly be one. He hoped that by sitting here in silent support she would see how much he appreciated having her on his team.
Sara was slowly replaying the events that led up to this agonizing wait. They were on their way to meet the new mayor at an informal but mandatory brunch when she got the 911 page. He offered to take her directly to Desert Palms rather than return to the lab for her vehicle. She had been surprised at his thoughtfulness and further so when he followed her in. He casually explained that he wanted to be sure that, should it be a false alarm, they could continue on to the morning's event. Privately, she figured it had more to do with his personal issues with the new mayor than making sure she had a ride.
Her anxiety had only compounded when the triage nurse calmly stated that the only information she could offer was confirmation of admittance and, since there was already the one allowed person in back, she needed to wait in the lobby until further notice. Taking a few calming breaths to squelch her desire to scream and push her way back, no doubt resulting in her immediate removal, she whispered a thanks and reluctantly sat down.
Although she worked with the man seated at her side for many years, their relationship was strictly professional. No matter the current situation, she was unwilling to suddenly share her inner turmoil with him. She did hope to one day thank him for not forcing inane conversation while she struggled to maintain control of her emotions.
Finally, the doors opened to two familiar faces.
"Mom!" the boy shouted, running up to her. "Look! I got a blue cast on my arm! It was so cool! First it was all soft but then it got really hard like this! It hurt but I didn't cry. I got to see the x-ray too! But they wouldn't let me keep it. They said I hafta have it on for 5 weeks and I might get a new cast before then. Maybe next time I'll get a green one."
Relief washed over her as she wrapped her young son in a full embrace. "Mooooom, you're embarrassing meeee!" She threw an accusing look in her husband's direction. Grissom responded with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.
"He was trying a new trick on the monkey bars and slipped," he explained, looking away to avoid further accusation and to acknowledge the man standing next to his wife. "Carvallo."
Carvallo reached out a hand in greeting to the former head of CSI, now full time dad and part time L.V.P.D. entomology consultant.
"Hello, Gil," he smiled, "Funny, I thought you retired to reduce your stress."
"Right," Grissom sighed, "After today, I might just ask my wife for my old job back."
"Robert" Sara interjected, "I think we might still be able to make some face time. I'm sure they're not even done with the speeches. Everything seems to be under control here." The last sentence was delivered with some hesitation as she looked warily at her husband.
Listening to the hot air bag of a puppet that somehow managed to beat him in the mayoral race was the last place he wanted to be. Seeing Sara begin to inspect her son for other scratches and bruises, he was sure where she needed to be. When she looked up at him expectantly, he raised a hand and shook his head in protest.
"Go home, Grissom."