DISCLAIMER: CSI belongs to CBS and Alliance-Atlantis Productions. No infringement intended.
FEEDBACK: Love it, but no flames please I'm fragile!
SUMMARY: Grissom, Brass and a bottle of whiskey leads to all kinds of revelations.
SPOILERS: Post 8x13
AUTHORS' NOTES: This was written especially for Karen, a wonderful friend of mine. She asked for a story about Grissom and Brass having a heart to heart over a bottle of whisky. This belongs to her but she wanted me to post it. I think this is slightly OOC but I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did.
Huge thanks as always to Mingsmommy for her superb beta work, and to Mossley for her endless wisdom. They are both a constant inspiration.
Whisky and conversations
Grissom sighed heavily when he walked in through to his living room and sat down on his couch. It had been a long night, and one that he knew would be playing heavily on his mind for a long time.
Cases with children had always been his weakness, and this one was no different. Seeing that little girl laid out in a box had unnerved him, and all he wanted to do now was hear Sara's voice telling him that everything would be okay.
Reaching out, his hand hovered over the phone before he picked it up. He was just about to speed dial her number when there was a loud knock at the door, causing Hank to bark noisily.
"Hank," Grissom scolded as he replaced the phone onto the table. "Settle down."
The boxer whined a little as he cocked his head to the side, but sat down and waited for his master to make his way up the stairs and open the door.
When Grissom pulled the door open he was surprised to see Brass standing on the other side holding a half empty bottle of whisky in his hands.
"Hey," Brass muttered softly. "Sorry to turn up unannounced…"
"No problem," Grissom told him as he stood aside to let his friend enter and quickly closed the door behind him. "What's up?"
Brass patted Hank on the head as he walked down through into the living area before he stopped and turned haunted eyes onto Grissom.
"I thought you might need some company," he started, "after this case, I don't think any of us will be sleeping very well."
"Yeah," Grissom sighed. "Cases with kids…I don't think I'll ever get used to them."
"Me neither."
"So, whisky?" Grissom asked with a sad, knowing smile.
"Yeah," Brass held up the bottle and placed it onto the coffee table and sat down. "This kind of calls for it, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Grissom sighed. "I guess it does."
Turning away from the detective he made his way into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard. He knew that Brass had his own set of problems when it came to cases with kids, but he wasn't sure he was ready for a heart to heart.
His eyes drifted over to the picture of him and Sara on the fridge, and he couldn't help but smile. If she were here she would be soothing him with her presence and taking the haunting images away with her touch.
Jim's voice broke through his thoughts, causing him to turn around.
"So, you heard from Sara?" he asked innocently as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle.
"Uh…yeah," Grissom told him quickly when he came to sit down beside his friend on the couch. Placing the two empty glasses on the table, he waited for the inevitable questions.
"Is she okay?" Brass asked as he poured some of the amber liquid into each glass.
Grissom stared at his glass for a moment before reaching forward to pick it up and lift it to his lips. He knew Brass wanted answers, all of his co-workers did, but his relationship with Sara was still very private.
"She's doing better," he muttered before taking a mouthful of whisky and swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing.
Brass followed his lead and did the same, letting an appreciative breath escape his lips when he swallowed the alcohol.
"So…" he started as he cradled his glass in his hands. "You know everyone's blaming you, don't you?"
"Huh?" Grissom asked when he'd swallowed another mouthful of the burning liquid. Turning surprised eyes onto the man beside him he regarded him carefully. "Me? Why?"
"Oh, there's lot's of reasons, my friend," Brass told him with a small sigh. "But I don't think we have enough whisky to last through everything."
"Sara did not leave because of me," Grissom told him indignantly. "She needed to come to terms with a few things but she couldn't do that here."
"So, if that's true, then why aren't you there with her?" Brass asked as he took another long swig.
Grissom put his glass back down onto the table and turned to look at his friend. How could he put in to words that he wanted nothing more than to run to her at every waking moment?
"It's not what she wants."
"So, are you two over?" Brass asked sympathetically as he lifted the whisky bottle and topped off Grissom's glass.
"Us?" Grissom asked with a dreamy sort of smile. "No, we're not."
"Really?"
"You seem surprised."
"I am," Brass admitted when he refilled his own glass. "She left kind of suddenly and you threw yourself into your work…I guess you reminded me of the guy you used to be before you two got together."
Reaching forward Grissom picked up his tumbler and took a sip of the whiskey. Swallowing hard he held his glass tightly between his fingers and stared down into the amber liquid inside.
"I had to work to make the days move more quickly," he admitted sadly. "I couldn't bear to be home without her. This place seems so empty."
Brass nodded silently and took another swig but continued to watch the man beside him.
"Have you ever been that consumed by another person before, Jim?" he asked.
"When I was married, maybe…but we all know how well that ended," he chuckled humorously.
"Have you ever looked at another person and felt every breath leave your body?" Grissom asked wistfully. "Or when your eyes meet, you know that those same eyes will haunt you for the rest of your life?"
"No," Brass said sadly. "I can't say that I have."
"Sara took my breath away the moment I met her," he said with a smile. "She breezed into my life and turned it upside down…I had never felt like that before in my life."
"And were the two of you together back then?"
"What?" Grissom asked quickly, snapping out of his musing. "No, not then."
"But you wanted to?"
Grissom thought about the question carefully before he answered. Back then it wouldn't have taken an awful lot for him to succumb to the beautiful young brunette. She filled him with a sense of excitement and joy that he had never felt with anyone else before. He'd wanted to be with her so much, even back then.
"Yes," he sighed reflectively. "But I thought it was merely infatuation from both sides, so I made the decision to let her go for her own good."
"I can understand that, I suppose," Brass told him kindly. "She is, what…Fifteen years younger that you are?"
"Yeah," Grissom swallowed another mouthful of whisky and returned his glass onto the table. "I told myself that she'd find someone younger, have a family and settle down…and I would live my life just the same as I always had."
"So, what happened?"
Grissom lost himself in his memories as he tried to pinpoint the exact time when the shift between them had started. There were already so many moments that were marked in his mind, but one stood out above all of the others.
"A dead pig happened," he said with a smile and reached to pat Hank on the head when he came to sit beside him. "Remember the Kaye Shelton case?"
"Remind me," Brass asked when he couldn't place the case in his mind.
"Her husband beat her, shot her in the head. Then he wrapped her in a blanket and dumped her body…Sara didn't take it well…"
"Oh, yeah," Brass nodded in remembrance. "Now I remember. Our Sara went after him with all guns blazing."
"Yeah, she did," Grissom sighed. "I don't know what scared me more, the fact that she was squaring up to a woman beater or that he was ready to hit her."
"Yeah, that was an eye opener. What was up with that?"
"It's not my place to say, Jim," he answered carefully. "I just never want to see a repeat performance."
"So, where does the dead pig come into this?" Brass asked as he picked up the bottle to pour more of the alcohol into each glass.
Grissom smiled warmly when he remembered that night. She had turned up from nowhere carrying a large bag. She'd just smiled when she'd sat down beside him and he'd already felt himself melting inside.
"I was trying to prove when Kaye Shelton died monitoring the dead pig throughout the night. Sara just appeared with a blanket and a flask of coffee, and stayed with me all through the night. That was when I knew I'd been a fool to think that I could just let her go…"
"Did you do anything about it?"
"No," he sighed sadly. "I guess I thought that I could keep her hanging for as long as I wanted, but then I heard about the paramedic, and then I just lost all hope."
"And Sara started to withdraw," Brass nodded. "I called her on her behavior you know."
"You did?" Grissom asked in surprise. Reaching to pick up his glass again he lifted it to his lips and took a large sip. "She's never said anything."
"I'm not surprised. I think she was kind of embarrassed that I caught on to what she was doing with the booze…and I guess my intuition was right at the time because she was pulled over for DUI."
"She barely drinks anymore," Grissom told him sadly. "It's even hard to get her to have a glass of wine with her dinner…"
"It was her wake up call."
"Yeah, and it was mine too," Grissom sighed reflectively. "I made an attempt to rebuild the friendship we used to have… but…"
"What?" Brass asked after taking a long swig of whisky.
"She didn't make it easy for me…every time I suggested we go out to eat she always insisted on bringing one of the guys…and she'd never let me pay for anything."
"Sounds like Sara," Brass mused. "So when did you guys, you know, hook up?"
"Remember Adam Trent?" Grissom's voice lowered as powerful images filled his mind. He'd been terrified when he'd witnessed Sara's attack in the mental asylum.
"The nut job?"
"He held something to her throat and she looked at me through the glass…and all I could think of was Debbie Marlin…" Closing his eyes he shook his head as he tried to remove the fog in his brain. "She wasn't thinking of herself in that moment, you know."
"Who, Sara?" Brass asked as he lifted his glass to his lips.
"Yeah…" opening his eyes again, Grissom reached down for his glass and took a long swig before swallowing the alcohol. "I could see it in her eyes…she didn't want me to witness what was happening to her…but…I couldn't look away…"
"She's one of a kind," Brass nodded.
"I tried to push her away," Grissom sighed. "And then I just couldn't seem to let her go."
"Love is a weird thing, my friend!"
"Yeah, but it's also very…" Grissom thought for a moment before a ghost of a smile formed on his lips, "…rewarding."
"So, is that when you two got together then. The Adam Trent case?"
Grissom peered over at his friend and regarded him carefully. His relationship with Sara had always been private and he wasn't sure why he found it so easy to speak of her so freely with the man beside him. Maybe it was because Sara loved the craggy detective, or maybe it was because he knew that whatever he said here wouldn't leave this apartment.
"No," he said with a small chuckle, "that's when I started to see her outside of work."
"Isn't that the same thing?" Brass asked slightly confused.
"No," Grissom said as he shook his head. "It was a case of me being ready to move forward with her, but she made me work for her trust."
"So what changed to move the two of you into a relationship?" Brass asked when he nursed his glass in between his hands.
"Nick." Grissom's voice came out as a shuddered sigh and he found himself gazing down into his half empty glass. "Almost losing him scared both of us…and I just couldn't seem to be away from her."
"Well," Brass told him as he held up his glass to take a look at the remaining liquid. "She's good for you, my friend."
"Oh yeah," Grissom sighed before draining the entire contents of his glass. "She's my life."
Brass suddenly choked on his drink and put his empty glass onto the table as he turned to look at the man beside him with an awe struck smile. "And here I was thinking that you lived for your work!"
Grissom leaned forward to place his glass onto the table and lifted the bottle to pour some more of the liquid into both of their tumblers
"She left because she was burning out," Grissom's voice ground out. "I could see it happening to her…but I…"
When his voice trailed away, Brass sat forward to pick up his drink. "You didn't want to see it."
"I thought I was enough to get her through it, you know," he sighed sadly. "I knew she was missing all of us, but she's always been so much stronger than me. I thought that after a while she'd just adapt."
"But she didn't, did she?" Brass shook his head. "I could see her slipping too, especially that last case. She snapped at me…she's never spoken to me in that way since I've known her."
"She wasn't the same after Natalie," Grissom fought the memories that invaded his mind of her lifeless body. "I was so intent on protecting her from everyone when we got her back…maybe I made it worse."
"How could you possibly have made it worse?" Brass asked sympathetically. "She almost died, and let me tell you that priorities change when you've been given a second chance…and I think whatever has been bothering her for the last few years finally needed to be dealt with."
"Yeah," Grissom nodded sadly. "That's basically what she told me, too. She didn't want me to see her falling apart."
Brass took a sip from his drink and looked at his friend with a knowing smile. "She wanted to protect you from seeing her that way…it shows how much she cares."
"Yeah," Grissom sighed and lifted his glass to his lips to take a long swig.
"So what happens now with you two?"
"Huh?" Grissom asked in confusion as he drained the rest of his drink. "What do you mean?"
"Long distance relationships don't really work. Are you guys going to stay together?"
Grissom chuckled softly as he placed his tumbler onto the table and moved to stand on shaky legs. He fought the fogginess in his brain and walked over towards the bookcase and took a framed photo off of the shelf and handed it to the confused detective.
Brass looked down at the photo in surprise. Sara was dressed in a cream colored knee length dress while Grissom stood beside her in a dark colored suit. He couldn't help but notice how the two of them were wrapped around each other and positively glowing.
"This looks fairly recent, when was it taken?"
"Six months ago," Grissom told him as he broke into a smile. "When we got married."
Before Brass could even utter a word, Grissom turned from him and inclined his head towards the other end of the apartment. "Gotta go to the bathroom."
Brass stared at his retreating form in shock. How could no one have seen this? He tried to piece together all of the events over the past few months since Grissom's and Sara's relationship had come to light. Yes they'd had moments when anyone could look at them and instantly know that they were together, but then other times, they seemed so far apart.
Shock quickly turned to a smile when Grissom returned into the living area.
"Why, you sly old dog…why didn't you tell anyone?"
Grissom's face cracked into a grin as he made his way to the kitchen to fill the kettle. "We didn't want anyone to know yet, not until we'd gone past our first few months."
"And Sara," Brass asked as he got up from the couch and took the remaining alcohol and empty glasses towards the kitchen. "How's she doing with all of this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Being separated…it can't be easy being a newly wed living apart from your husband."
A sudden rustle started Hank barking and he was at the door before Grissom could comprehend what was going on.
When the door opened, Hank was beside himself with excitement and wagged his tail relentlessly until Grissom raced up the stairs to yank the welcome intruder into a desperate embrace.
"God, I missed you," Sara whispered ecstatically as she wrapped her arms around her husband, holding onto him so tight that both could barely breathe.
"Sara…" he groaned as he placed desperate kisses into her hair, unable to pull away from her.
"I had to see you," she told him as her voice caught on a sob, which only caused him to pull her in closer. "I couldn't stay away any longer."
Brass tried to avert his eyes when the two of them seemed to forget they were still standing in the open doorway as they mashed mouths and bodies together. He could see how they were swiftly becoming lost in one another and he felt compelled to either flee from the house or somehow distract the amorous pair.
Settling for an uncomfortable cough to announce his presence, he watched in fascination as their mouths slowly parted only to draw back together for small, lingering kisses.
"Uh…guys…"
His voice caused Sara to slowly pull away from her husband but she kept her hands lingering over his shoulders before turning her head towards the red-faced detective.
"Jim," she beamed a bright smile in his direction and leaned up to kiss her husband once more before moving down the stairs and towards their friend.
"You look amazing," Brass told her as she pulled him into a powerful embrace. And she did look good. She looked alive and vibrant with the sparkle once again back in her eyes.
"Thanks," she grinned when she pulled away from him. "I feel great."
"Honey," Grissom kicked the door closed and came down the stairs towards her. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?"
"And miss seeing the look on your face?" she laughed as she moved once again into his arms, melting into him. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder. "I saw that little girl on the news and I knew…I knew that you would need me…"
"I do need you," his voice broke but he swallowed the lump in his throat when she lifted her head to look up into his eyes. "I love you so much."
"Oh god, baby…don't make me cry," she hated that her eyes had once again betrayed her. "I love you."
"Uh…" Brass was becoming more embarrassed by the second. "Maybe I should go…"
Sara broke away from Grissom but not before placing a soft kiss on his lips. Her eyes flittered from the quarter full whisky bottle on the kitchen counter to Brass' rosy tint.
"I don't think you're going anywhere," she told him firmly.
"Excuse me?" Jim stammered and looked towards Grissom for some back up.
Grissom shrugged and grinned as he looked towards his wife adoringly. "Don't look at me. She's the boss around here."
"You've both been drinking," she told Brass. "You can sleep on the couch tonight…"
Brass looked at the leather couch and tried to think how anyone could sleep on that thing. His thoughts were interrupted with Sara's delighted squeal, and he couldn't help but watch, mesmerized as she sank to her knees and opened her arms for their dog who was trundling towards her.
"Oh baby, I missed you," she giggled when Hank leapt all over her and pushed her backwards onto her backside. "I know…I know…I should have hugged you first…"
"Hank, let Mom up," Grissom told the dog sternly even though he knew that Hank wouldn't ever leave Sara's side.
"It's my fault," Sara sputtered when the dog tried to lick her face. She pushed his head away from her and scrambled to her feet, "I should have at least stroked him before I jumped you."
Grissom couldn't help the rosy tint that started to creep over his cheeks with her words. He couldn't seem to stop smiling. "He's missed you."
Sara beamed a smile down at the dog and stroked his back before patting him. "Mommy missed you too, baby."
"Hank," Grissom snapped when Hank kept whining at Sara, his voice causing the dog to stop his fussing and sit down beside Sara's feet.
"Gil, he's only saying hello," she told him as she moved towards him and wrapped her arms around him again.
"I know honey, but you know how he can get sometimes."
"He wasn't hurting me," she told him with a smile as she pulled back and held her wrist up for him to see it. "See, I don't even have to wear a support anymore."
"That's good to hear," he took her offered hand in his and lifted it to his lips to place a soft kiss into her palm. When he lifted his head and looked at her, their eyes locked and held. They seemed to gravitate towards each other's lips, uncaring that they had a reluctant audience.
"Guys…please," Brass whined when they began kissing each other again. "You're both making me blush here!"
"Sorry Jim," Sara giggled as she moved away from Grissom but not before kissing him soundly. "I'm going to have a shower."
"Okay, sweetheart," he grinned. "You want me to put a pot of coffee on?"
"Please," she smiled as she headed towards the bedroom, patting her leg for Hank to follow.
Both men watched until she disappeared with the dog on her heels.
"She looks good, Gil," Brass told him with a proud smile. "Whatever she did in her time away from Vegas has agreed with her."
"Yeah," Grissom sighed wistfully. "It has."
When Sara returned she was armed with a pillow and blankets. Moving towards the end of the couch she placed the pile onto the cushions and turned to regard the older man who was lying back against the couch with his eyes closed.
"Should we wake him?" she asked in a whisper when Grissom handed her a mug of her favorite coffee.
"Let him sleep…he took this case pretty badly."
"Okay," she nodded. "What about you?"
"I'm okay," he told her as he kept his voice low. "Now that you're here."
Putting her coffee down onto the table she moved to the couch and unfolded a blanket before draping it over Brass' sleeping form.
"Come on," she said when she turned back towards her husband with a seductive smile on her lips. Grasping his hand she started to pull him along with her. "Let's go to bed."
Brass woke up at some point in the night and tried to remember where he was. When his eyes became accustomed to the darkness he slowly started to remember. He couldn't even remember falling asleep.
Kicking off his shoes he reached over for the pillow that Sara had placed onto the couch for him and threw it down next to him before slowly easing himself lower. His fingers enclosed over the edge of the blanket to tug it over his shoulders as he tried to find that blissful pull of sleep again.
He was just dozing off when he heard a noise coming from the direction of Grissom and Sara's bedroom. At first he thought it was the huge Boxer of theirs, but when he heard the noise again he threw off the blanket and stood up, trying to remember why he hadn't brought his gun.
On tiptoe, he crept towards the bedroom but stopped when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a banging headboard, accompanied by long, drawn out, moans.
At first he didn't know what to do. He knew exactly what was going on in that room and he didn't know whether he was more turned on or embarrassed. Taking a step backwards he started to creep back towards the couch but snagged his toe on the edge of the coffee table. He hissed out a curse under his breath and tried to hold onto his throbbing foot while hopping.
Hank growled at him, causing him to yelp in surprise. When he finally made it to the couch he fell back onto it and was caught between holding his toe and fending off the huge dog that thought it was time to play.
"Hank," he spluttered as he turned his head from side to side in a bid to stop the dog drooling on him. "You're not helping."
Hank barked and wagged his tail, but the more he tried to shush him, the move excited the dog became. The pair of them were suddenly caught in a tug of war with the blanket as Brass tried desperately to pull it from the dog without ripping it.
When the light clicked on, Brass and Hank stopped what they were doing and looked up guiltily at Sara who was trying to tie her robe and flatten her hair at the same time.
"What is going on out here?" she asked incredulously.
"He started it," Brass pointed at the dog.
"Really?" she smirked. "Hank, go to bed."
The dog heaved a sigh and jumped down from the couch and reluctantly padded over towards the huge basket in the living room. With a groan he flopped down and lifted his head onto the edge of the basket and cast Brass an accusing look.
Sara looked from the dog and back towards Brass. "And you can stop smirking mister," she mock scolded. "You can go to bed too."
At first he stared at her open mouthed, but his shock quickly melted into a lopsided grin. "Yes, Mom."
"Now, I don't want to hear any more from you two," she raised a finger at first Brass and then Hank, trying desperately not to laugh. "Sleep…both of you."
When she was gone and the room was once again bathed in darkness, Brass heard Hank get out of his basket and jump up beside him and lay down onto the couch. He tried to move over enough so that the huge boxer could lay down with him.
The banging started again within a few minutes and Brass could practically hear Hank mouthing, 'welcome to my world.'
Groaning, Brass lifted his head and yanked the pillow out from under him and put it over his head as he tried to drown out the noises that were coming from the bedroom.
Hank crawled up the couch to lay his head onto his chest and sighed in agreement.
"They have to stop eventually," he whispered to the dog as he stroked his head. The worst part was wondering how he was going to look them both in the eye, knowing just what they had been doing in their bedroom. Maybe he should just leave before they woke up, he mused as he closed his eyes. And as the banging continued to come from the room over an hour later, he wondered if he should just applaud the man for his stamina.
Hank groaned and Brass patted his head. "I hear ya, boy," he whispered as he suddenly realized that the rhythmic banging had stopped and the apartment had fallen into silence. Closing his eyes with relief, he willed himself to fall into the blissful pull of sleep until the noises started again.
With a heavy sigh, both man and dog listened to the groans that were drifting through the silence. With a tired yawn, Brass stroked Hanks fur, taking solace in the warmth beside him until Hank's snores became louder, drowning out every other noise. Sighing heavily, Brass lifted the pillow and packed it around his ears. It was going to be a very long night...
END