Disclaimer: The characters and world of CSI do not belong to me, nor do the songs referenced. I've simply borrowed them for the time being and intend to return relatively unscathed and possibly, in better shape than before I borrowed them. I do however own Olivia and the pictures described.
Stealing Cinderella
Greg didn't know why he was nervous, sitting in Grissom's living room, he'd been here before, but waiting for Gil Grissom himself. Looking around he saw there were more pictures than he remember. In among the many of Sarah and Gil was at least a dozen of Olivia. The pictures on the mantel caught his eye. One was a little girl dressed as a princess surrounded by other children dressed as other characters from Cinderella. She was beautiful even then; he smiled at one of as a teenager, dancing with Grissom.
Next to it was the same girl a few years later proudly displaying her new bike. Greg had seen pictures of Olivia when she was little, but they were the standard school pictures, and forced smiles for friends. These random shots caught the true essence of Olivia Grissom, her smile, her personality. He could almost hear her laughter as he studied a picture of her bouncing on her bed, pillow in hand. Last on the mantle was of a five-year-old Olivia with bright red Popsicle smeared around her mouth, running through a sprinkler towards the camera. Despite being bounced back and forth between her parents, she had been a happy child.
The end table by the sofa held a newer picture. Sara and Olivia were standing over a flour-coated boxer laughing. Behind them, the counter was a mess, evidence of one of Olivia's many baking escapades. The dog looked up at the camera with one of those looks pets have that say could these humans be any stranger! Another of the two women sat behind the first. As Greg leaned into get a better look, Grissom came back in the room.
"She's something, isn't she?"
"Yes, sir. She's quite a woman." Grissom stood there just staring at Greg.
When their eyes met, Greg realized that in Grissom's eyes she would always be the star of the third grade play, the little girl he taught to ride her first bike, bouncing on the bed ready for a pillow fight.
Nothing was said between the two men. Grissom knew why he was there.
"Olivia, Greg's here!" Grissom called.
When she threw her arms around her father Greg could see it too, the little girl running through the sprinkler. The teenager he danced with on a Daddy/Daughter date.
Olivia smiled at Greg. "I'll be ready in just a minute." She ran back up the stairs.
Grissom went into the dining room while Greg continued to look at the pictures. Obviously, Olivia was important to Sara, even though she wasn't her mother, if the look on her face in most of the pictures was anything to go by. Glancing at the dinning room as he followed Olivia to the door he saw that Grissom had taken out his standard issue side arm.
"I'll see you two when you get back. I'll be up al night…still cleaning this gun."
Greg smiled nervously. He couldn't blame Grissom for putting him through the ringer; after all, he was the one stealing Cinderella.