Title: What's in a Name?
Summary: Names have such power.
Spoilers: Nesting Dolls; Rashomama; Built to Kill Part One; Post Mortem; Loco Motives; Leaving Las Vegas; Law of Gravity; Monster in the Box
Disclaimer: Even though I'm now the proud owner of season two (FINALLY!) I don't own much more than that. The geeks ain't mine, folks!
Author's Note: Huge thanks to the members of the CSIFO Facebook group - specifically the ones who responded to my plea of help in regards to writer's block this week - because I don't think this would have been written if you hadn't all thrown in your two cents of advice. Many many thanks my friends! This takes place about two thirds of the way through season seven, and I do believe it's a conversation that totally could have happened! Please read and review, you know I love them!
She could tell he wasn't asleep. Even though they'd been apart for four weeks, the time hadn't erased the memories of the past year and a half of him curled around her as they slept. Right now he was flat on his back, and she would bet that his eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He'd only just gotten home a few days ago and their life - both personal and professional - was a mess. Keppler had been murdered and another miniature crime scene had shaken them all to their core. They'd barely had time to speak to one another. But she knew him. Something was bothering him so much that it was preventing him from getting the sleep he so desperately needed. Damn those miniatures, she thought. He coughed then, and it shook the whole bed. He'd come home sick and hadn't taken a moment for himself since walking back into the lab. She sighed. "Gil..."
"Why didn't you change your name, Sara?"
She blinked and rolled over to look at him. She hadn't been expecting that at all. "What?" she whispered into the dark.
"When we were watching the Dell home movies a few weeks ago, after Ernie Dell…" he paused. "After he sent his message and we were watching the movies, you said a lot of foster kids change their names when they get out. Why didn't you?"
"I... what?" she asked again.
It was his turn to sigh. "Why didn't you change your name from Sara Sidle after you left foster care? You could have become a brand new person, but you didn't. Why not?"
She was too tired for such a deep conversation but if it would give him some peace of mind, she would oblige her sick, exhausted entomologist. Propping herself up on an elbow to see him better, she thought for a moment. "I didn't want to," she finally said.
"How come?"
"Because it's who I am. I'm Sara Sidle. It's the name I was given and the name I have always gone by. Those kids who change their names..." she paused. "They're trying to run away from their childhood. The things kids in foster care go through Gil… sometimes it's way worse than what I went through. You know that. Growing up, you wish it never happened to you, that it was someone else. I think changing your name is a defence mechanism. If you have a different name, you can fool yourself into thinking whatever happened… didn't, really, because that's not who you are anymore."
He stared up at her. "You've thought a lot about this," he whispered.
She shrugged one shoulder. "When everyone else was doing it, it crossed my mind. As much as I wished the terrible things in my childhood hadn't happened to me, I knew changing my name wouldn't make a difference. I'd still know I was Sara Sidle at one point, and those things did happen, regardless of what my name was twenty years down the road."
He cupped her cheek. "You are so smart, honey. I'm in awe of your courage each and every day."
Tears sprang to her eyes. They didn't talk much about her childhood; he knew everything, but only because he'd slowly coaxed it out of her over the past two years. She didn't like to talk about it, it was in the past. She covered his hand with hers, and turned her head to kiss his palm. "Thank you," she whispered.
"I'm glad you're Sara Sidle," he said, a ghost of a smile crossing his features.
She saw him relax slightly, and curled herself into his side, bringing their clasped hands to rest on his broad chest. "I am too." She kissed his cheek, and closed her eyes.
Silence descended upon them, and Sara was grateful for the sleep that was pulling at the edge of her mind when he spoke again, so softly she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. She stayed quiet, figuring he'd repeat himself if it was important. He didn't disappoint. Seconds later, his warm, sleepy voice filled the air. "Sara?"
"Mhm?" she mumbled, tucking her face into the crook of his neck.
"I asked if you would ever change it."
"Change what?"
"Your name."
She opened her eyes, but stayed where she was, looking at the bearded underside of his chin. "Change my name? No. I like it."
"Would you change it for me?"
"Change it? For... you?" She pulled herself up, blinking away the sleep that clouded her brain. He looked up at her expectantly, waiting for her to make the connection. Realization suddenly dawned on her, and her eyes grew wide. "Gil... what are you asking me?"
He lifted her left hand from his chest and stared at her ring finger, avoiding her eyes. "I'm asking if you'd ever change it, for me."
"Are you asking me to?"
"No. Yes. Maybe? I'm... I'm not really sure what I'm asking you, Sara." He sighed and squeezed her hand before letting it go.
She stared dumbfounded at the man lying next to her. As shocked as she was, it shouldn't have surprised her that he would throw out the idea of marriage while talking about foster children and the importance of names in the middle of the night. She blew out a breath. It was just like him to bring up the idea right after one of the most turbulent times in their relationship of late, days after he'd returned from a strained four week break. She couldn't wrap her head around their current situation. She ran a hand across her face; a move she'd picked up from him. "Gil, are you asking me to marry you? Right here, right now, in the middle of the night?"
He shrugged, looking sheepish. She tilted his chin upwards so she could look into his eyes. They were hard to see in the dark, but the way he clutched her desperately told her he wasn't about to ever let her go again. "I hadn't planned on it," he admitted. "It's just an idea I'm putting out there. For you to... think about."
"Hell of a way to do it," she mumbled, shaking her head. "You know how I feel about marriage."
She saw blush creep across his cheeks, and a flicker of fear in his eyes. "I know you don't think you need to marry me to show your commitment, but I'd like it," he said. "I would like to put a ring on your finger and show the world that you're mine."
"Oh Gilbert, ever the traditionalist," she said lightly, eliciting a small smile from him. "I'll think about it, okay? Now isn't the right time."
He nodded. "I know. I didn't mean right now. I just wanted it to be something you could roll around in the back of your mind."
She nodded, and leaned down to kiss him, but he turned away. "Honey no, I'm sick."
"Don't care," she said, grabbing his chin and kissing him warmly. She wasn't ready to admit it yet, but she would absolutely change her name for this man, when the time was right. It sent a warm feeling flooding through her. Excitement started to build as the thought sunk into her tired brain, and she liked it more and more.
Sara Sidle, a bride. Sara Sidle, a married woman. Sara Sidle, a wife.
Sara Grissom, all of the above.
-end-