Title: Joy
Author: jenbachand
Rating: General
Summary: Christmas is for family.
Spoilers: We'll say anything through December 2006.
Author's Notes: Secret Santa fic for aflaminghalo who wanted a picnic and a guest appearance by Brass. Set in the same universe as Unplanned and Soft Glow. Thanks to Mingsmommy for the beta work.
Sara was late coming home. Grissom watched the door along with the serious little girl sitting next to him. The two of them were playing at Christmas cheer. The Grinch was on the big screen, and Cindy Lou Who was currently interviewing the citizens.
Grissom thought his daughter could show the little Who girl a few things about interrogation. At five years old, she could wheedle even the biggest secrets out of her "uncles". Especially Greg, the younger man only had to be given the miniature version of the Sidle Smile, and he started spilling his guts about anything she wanted to know. Gil Grissom didn't even want to think about the sheer volume of toys Greg Sanders had been conned into buying for his daughter.
She also ran her playgroup with an iron fist. She'd been reading and writing for over a year; that along with her ability to sign had made her a natural leader. They usually played school, and she was slowly teaching the other kids who made their way to the Grissom household the importance of proper printing techniques and word recognition.
A knock on the door startled the two of them. There had never been carolers in their subdivision, the mail came earlier in the day, and most of the CSI team was trying to wrap up their cases for a couple days off. Everyone was coming for dinner tomorrow on Christmas day. A potluck dinner with the Grissom family providing the meat and meat alternatives, a tradition since the first Christmas they spent together as a married couple. Whoever was knocking at the door was certainly a mystery to the two Grissoms in residence. The peephole did not provide an answer right away to the mystery, but it did provide a few clues. The guest on the porch had an uncomfortable demeanor housed in an ill fitting Santa suit and arms loaded down with garishly wrapped presents and a sack beside him on the ground. Grissom grinned as he opened the door.
"Ho Ho Ho," the booming voice came from the man on the porch.
"Uncle Jim," wassquealed in a painfully high pitch from the littlest Grissom as she launched herself at the legs of the man on the porch.
"Hey Kitten. Merry Christmas." Jim said carrying a velvet bag with far too many presents in it, and Gil Grissom smiled broadly at his friend. The hardened detective's love for his little girl was the stuff of myth and legend. Since her birth, Jim had spent more money on little dresses and shoes for his daughter than perhaps even he and Sara had. Catherine's influence was shown there as well, as most of the little dresses and shoes had a designer tag.
"Sara wanted me to let you know she's almost done with her case," Jim said as he unloaded his bag, setting most of the presents under the tree.
"These are for tomorrow Kitten," he motioned to the ones under the tree, his voice softening as he addresses the little girl. Then he took one last gift out of the bag and handed it to her, smiling tenderly. "But this one is for today."
Let it never be said that his girls were unenthusiastic about presents. Both were wrapping paper rippers, destroying ribbon and glossy paper with fervor that bordered on annihilation. Grissom winced at the hasty destruction of the beautifully crafted paper and beribboned presentation. Inside the box from Jim was a Christmas nightgown, which his daughter was currently cooing over. She made a show of getting up to give Santa Jim a hug, which caused the detective to blush. Jim was thanked profusely by the young Grissom as he left, saying he'd be there early in the morning for present opening.
As he picked up paper and instructed his daughter to put the gown in her room, he noticed the time. It was nearly lunch and no sign of his wife; perhaps they should do something to take their minds off Sara's absence.
"How about a picnic?"
"It's too cold for a picnic in the woods Daddy," she said giggling. Clearly she thought her father was a few ants short of an ant farm.
"How about a picnic by the fireplace then? We can get pillows and pretend they're rocks, and spread out the big blue blanket. I'll even let you make your own sandwich."
She was contemplating. The look of utter concentration on her face was almost comical. Picnics were a summer tradition which she loved, and she loved "helping" in the kitchen. He realized setting her up with some bread and peanut butter and jelly would be messy, but it would occupy her for a bit.
"Can I have turkey and jelly?" She asked hopefully.
"Um, sure." He shuddered inwardly. "Won't it taste odd though?"
"We always have cranberry with turkey, and that's just like jelly." She was so matter of fact about it he couldn't help but smile.
"Strawberry or grape?" He asked in a serious voice, as though offering a life altering choice.
"Raspberry I think," she said as she nodded her little head.
He suppressed a laugh at his daughter's logic as he gathered the items for the impromptu picnic. They made quick work of sandwiches and snacks. He made sure to put a vegetarian one together for Sara in case she came home soon. His daughter was playing along perfectly, insisting they find the right spot in the "park" for a picnic, and declaring the hearth perfect ("its right next to this lovely tree, Daddy"). They both spread out the blanket and unloaded the basket (she insisted a picnic wasn't one without the basket). The fire was warm, his daughter was telling him a tale about a fairy princess and the prince who loved her and Grissom was quite certain a former DNA tech was the star of her production. She was just starting to get sleepy when the front door opened letting in a blast of cold air. Sara looked frazzled, but at the sight of her family she began to beam.
"A picnic?" She quirked an eyebrow at her husband, looking for an explanation.
"A Christmas Picnic Mommy," her daughter corrected her excitedly, "I think it should be a new tradition. Like the advent calendar with the chocolates."
Sara joined them on the blanket. She smiled at her husband around her sandwich, as she listened to a recount of her daughter's day, and relaxed with her family.
"Would you like to hear my story Mommy?" At Sara's nod, their daughter started over with the story of the fairy princess and her prince, only with more detail this time. For two science geeks, they both felt their daughter was certain to be a literary genius when she grows up. That or a dictator of a small, well educated country.
Both of her parents were smiling at her. She was a serious little girl, yet she took childish delight in small things, just as they took delight in her. She was the light of their lives. Gil Grissom sent silent thanks for all the joy in his life, most especially his brilliant, beautiful girls.