TITLE- The Hallow Farm
AUTHOR- Devanie Maxwell
RATING- PG
CATEGORY- VRA, Grissom/Sara UST
SPOILERS- Small one for Burden of Proof.
SUMMARY- "It wasn't a dark and stormy night, but maybe it should have been."
DISCLAIMER- I don't own Grissom and Sara. Nor do I own a body farm. Disappointing for me in all respects.
NOTES- Thanks to Alison for the rocking beta and title. Big shout outs to Andi, Stepf (for suggesting what would become the basis of this story), and Meg as always. Thanks to Drak for that great idea of a challenge/contest. The summary quote isn't mine. I wish I could credit it to someone, but I have no idea where it came from. I just thought it fit.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Las Vegas wasn't a quiet city. One was more likely to find it easier to get accustomed to the noise than the almost eerie silence that could be found just miles from the strip. Slots, music, and roller coasters turned into the rustling of trees and an occasional distant howl.
It was the sound of crickets that dominated the night as Grissom sat in the clearing, just listening. "Nature's symphony," an elementary school teacher had once told his class. His early fascination with bugs had started around that time; he remembered thinking that crickets "spoke" with their legs just as his mother spoke with her hands. The comparison was a poor one-they used their legs to communicate audibly. Grissom the scientist recognized this. Grissom the child found solace in it.
The noise of crunching leaves overrode everything and he smiled almost in spite of himself. Lifting his eyes, he acknowledged the dark figure approaching from the trail. "Hey."
"Hey." Sara's breath formed a cloud in the crisp air. Her hands stuffed into her dark jacket's pockets and her hair tucked under a cap, she looked almost like a disembodied head. "Sorry I'm late. Catherine wanted to get an early start to take Lindsey trick-or-treating, so I told her I'd file her reports."
"That's fine." He motioned to the empty space next to him on the log. "Have a seat."
Lowering herself onto the bark, she sat close enough that their shoulders touched. Sara waited for him to speak again, but he seemed content just staring into the distance. After several moments her curiosity finally prevailed. "So, to what do I owe this invitation?"
He shrugged. "You've never been to the body farm."
She looked at him; surprised he was aware of that. "Are you studying something for a case?"
"No."
Unsure of what to say next, she looked up at the tree line. A badly decomposed body swung gently in the breeze just yards from their heads. "Please tell me you didn't just call me out here for an elaborate game of Hangman."
That elicited a laugh. "Actually." There was a pause and Sara wondered if he had any reason at all, that maybe he asked her to come for the same reason she was sitting here now. Or more accurately, the lack of one. He spoke again. "Do you know the story of Halloween?"
She blinked. "You really are the master of the non-sequitur, aren't you?" At his blank stare, she continued. "It was originally a Catholic holiday, right? A way to honor the saints."
"Close. The word 'Halloween' stems from that. 'All Hallows' Day' or 'All Saints' Day."
"Just the word?"
Nodding, he continued. "The Celts actually had a precursor back in 5 B.C. Their New Year started on the last day of summer, October 31st. Legend says that they believed all the dead from the previous year would converge on that day and seek new bodies."
"Living bodies?" Sara interrupted, never assuming anything with one of Grissom's stories.
"Yes. Well, they felt it was their only chance at an afterlife. The townspeople wouldn't light their homes that night, hoping the spirits would spare them from possession."
She looked skeptical. "Okay, so these people gave the ghosts enough credit that they believed that they could somehow breach the space-time continuum, but blowing out their fires seemed like a viable way to stop them?"
Shaking his head, he frowned at her. "Let me finish."
"Sorry," she offered, not looking particularly remorseful.
"Anyway, they would also try to disguise themselves as ghouls and goblins in order to scare the dead away, hoping to make themselves undesirable as hosts."
"What's the difference between a ghoul and a ghost?"
He stared. "That's for a different story."
"I mean, how did they know the dead wouldn't be attracted to them?" Her expression was serious, but her eyes betrayed amusement.
"Sara."
Not attempting to apologize this time, she crossed her arms and shifted sideways so that she faced him, her left knee brushing his right. "Go on."
"Apparently the costumes and darkness only fed into mass hysteria. Some people took it a step farther." Grissom paused for effect.
Raising an eyebrow, Sara played along. "How so?"
"Paranoia convinced some that their neighbors, their friends had become inhabited by the spirits. Normal personality quirks became signs that they were the undead."
"I'm afraid to ask." Not so much because of the setup, but because Grissom's eyes were starting to light up. This had to be the 'good part.'
"On occasion, the citizens would hold a town meeting and determine if someone seemed particularly 'possessed.' Whether it was by vote or just because the appointed leader didn't like the guy, someone would be chosen as a sacrifice."
Her interest was piqued. "Sacrificed how?"
"Don't rush the process, Sara. So, the one chosen would serve as an object lesson to the dead. That if they tried to claim a body they might die again. There might not be any second chances. To emphasize their point they'd burn whomever they'd 'elect' at the stake. Innocent men, women, children...no one was safe."
"Wow."
"And that's the story of Halloween."
She jerked her gaze back up from the ground. "What? That's the end?"
Grissom almost looked perplexed. "You were expecting resolution?"
"I don't know. Where's the part with the trick-or-treating and the apple bobbing..."
"That comes much later. Besides, it's not nearly as interesting." Smiling now, he kicked at a small stone at the base of the log.
"Figures." She grinned at him. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you have any Halloween stories? I mean, from your childhood?"
He studied her for a moment, seeing on her face the same curiosity she normally reserved for cases. "I didn't tend to dress up or anything, if that's what you're wondering."
"No? I'd think Halloween would have been your thing."
He nodded in concession. "It was, to some extent. I wasn't the most popular kid in my class." Seeing that Sara didn't exactly look surprised by this revelation, he continued. "The teachers would try to get me involved by electing me to make the props for the school haunted house.'
"Props? Like sets?"
"No. Props, like fake eyeballs, intestines, brain matter..."
Sara laughed, the sound echoing off the trees. "How old were you?"
"Nine."
"Did you do that every year?"
"Some of the other kids vomited while participating in the 'Guess the Organ" station, so I wasn't asked again." Grissom, a man nearing 50, almost looked chagrined.
"Ah." It wasn't often that Grissom shared anything from his past, so she was hesitant to say anymore.
"And you?" Apparently, he had moved on.
"My parents thought Halloween was too commercialized. They'd decorate the inn on account of the guests, but we really didn't celebrate it."
He looked almost disappointed. "No costumes? No candy?"
"Nope." Her voice was light. "I didn't miss much. And besides..." She gestured at the carcass silhouetted in the moonlight. "We live Halloween." Giving him a huge smile, she looked off into the woods.
Grissom stared at her profile for a moment and wondered again if he should explain why he had invited her out here, that he had dialed her number almost without being cognizant of picking up the phone. Instead, he kept silent and reached out his right hand, brushing back a tendril of hair that had escaped her cap.
Feeling his fingers glance across the nape of her neck, Sara turned her head in surprise. She met his eyes, but was unable to read them. She saw him bring his hand back to his side, but he didn't break his gaze. "There was a leaf. The wind's picking up."
Sara was reminded of another night and wondered if Grissom hadn't come full circle, veiling his advance just as she had passed off her own. While she tried to formulate a response he spoke again, lower this time.
"It's getting colder. We should probably go."
"Okay." She watched as he stood, then offered a hand. After a slight hesitation, she grabbed it and let herself be pulled to her feet. Standing now, she let go. He didn't.
They walked back toward the cars in silence until Grissom cleared his throat. "Thanks for coming out here."
"Sure."
They reached the gate and he released his light hold on her fingers, leaving them to tingle in the cold air. "Thanks for showing me the body farm. Maybe we can do this again sometime?"
"I'll call you."
Grinning, Sara passed through the gate and found her car as Grissom looked on. Sometimes the best Halloween memories belong to grownups.
FIN
AUTHOR- Devanie Maxwell
RATING- PG
CATEGORY- VRA, Grissom/Sara UST
SPOILERS- Small one for Burden of Proof.
SUMMARY- "It wasn't a dark and stormy night, but maybe it should have been."
DISCLAIMER- I don't own Grissom and Sara. Nor do I own a body farm. Disappointing for me in all respects.
NOTES- Thanks to Alison for the rocking beta and title. Big shout outs to Andi, Stepf (for suggesting what would become the basis of this story), and Meg as always. Thanks to Drak for that great idea of a challenge/contest. The summary quote isn't mine. I wish I could credit it to someone, but I have no idea where it came from. I just thought it fit.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Las Vegas wasn't a quiet city. One was more likely to find it easier to get accustomed to the noise than the almost eerie silence that could be found just miles from the strip. Slots, music, and roller coasters turned into the rustling of trees and an occasional distant howl.
It was the sound of crickets that dominated the night as Grissom sat in the clearing, just listening. "Nature's symphony," an elementary school teacher had once told his class. His early fascination with bugs had started around that time; he remembered thinking that crickets "spoke" with their legs just as his mother spoke with her hands. The comparison was a poor one-they used their legs to communicate audibly. Grissom the scientist recognized this. Grissom the child found solace in it.
The noise of crunching leaves overrode everything and he smiled almost in spite of himself. Lifting his eyes, he acknowledged the dark figure approaching from the trail. "Hey."
"Hey." Sara's breath formed a cloud in the crisp air. Her hands stuffed into her dark jacket's pockets and her hair tucked under a cap, she looked almost like a disembodied head. "Sorry I'm late. Catherine wanted to get an early start to take Lindsey trick-or-treating, so I told her I'd file her reports."
"That's fine." He motioned to the empty space next to him on the log. "Have a seat."
Lowering herself onto the bark, she sat close enough that their shoulders touched. Sara waited for him to speak again, but he seemed content just staring into the distance. After several moments her curiosity finally prevailed. "So, to what do I owe this invitation?"
He shrugged. "You've never been to the body farm."
She looked at him; surprised he was aware of that. "Are you studying something for a case?"
"No."
Unsure of what to say next, she looked up at the tree line. A badly decomposed body swung gently in the breeze just yards from their heads. "Please tell me you didn't just call me out here for an elaborate game of Hangman."
That elicited a laugh. "Actually." There was a pause and Sara wondered if he had any reason at all, that maybe he asked her to come for the same reason she was sitting here now. Or more accurately, the lack of one. He spoke again. "Do you know the story of Halloween?"
She blinked. "You really are the master of the non-sequitur, aren't you?" At his blank stare, she continued. "It was originally a Catholic holiday, right? A way to honor the saints."
"Close. The word 'Halloween' stems from that. 'All Hallows' Day' or 'All Saints' Day."
"Just the word?"
Nodding, he continued. "The Celts actually had a precursor back in 5 B.C. Their New Year started on the last day of summer, October 31st. Legend says that they believed all the dead from the previous year would converge on that day and seek new bodies."
"Living bodies?" Sara interrupted, never assuming anything with one of Grissom's stories.
"Yes. Well, they felt it was their only chance at an afterlife. The townspeople wouldn't light their homes that night, hoping the spirits would spare them from possession."
She looked skeptical. "Okay, so these people gave the ghosts enough credit that they believed that they could somehow breach the space-time continuum, but blowing out their fires seemed like a viable way to stop them?"
Shaking his head, he frowned at her. "Let me finish."
"Sorry," she offered, not looking particularly remorseful.
"Anyway, they would also try to disguise themselves as ghouls and goblins in order to scare the dead away, hoping to make themselves undesirable as hosts."
"What's the difference between a ghoul and a ghost?"
He stared. "That's for a different story."
"I mean, how did they know the dead wouldn't be attracted to them?" Her expression was serious, but her eyes betrayed amusement.
"Sara."
Not attempting to apologize this time, she crossed her arms and shifted sideways so that she faced him, her left knee brushing his right. "Go on."
"Apparently the costumes and darkness only fed into mass hysteria. Some people took it a step farther." Grissom paused for effect.
Raising an eyebrow, Sara played along. "How so?"
"Paranoia convinced some that their neighbors, their friends had become inhabited by the spirits. Normal personality quirks became signs that they were the undead."
"I'm afraid to ask." Not so much because of the setup, but because Grissom's eyes were starting to light up. This had to be the 'good part.'
"On occasion, the citizens would hold a town meeting and determine if someone seemed particularly 'possessed.' Whether it was by vote or just because the appointed leader didn't like the guy, someone would be chosen as a sacrifice."
Her interest was piqued. "Sacrificed how?"
"Don't rush the process, Sara. So, the one chosen would serve as an object lesson to the dead. That if they tried to claim a body they might die again. There might not be any second chances. To emphasize their point they'd burn whomever they'd 'elect' at the stake. Innocent men, women, children...no one was safe."
"Wow."
"And that's the story of Halloween."
She jerked her gaze back up from the ground. "What? That's the end?"
Grissom almost looked perplexed. "You were expecting resolution?"
"I don't know. Where's the part with the trick-or-treating and the apple bobbing..."
"That comes much later. Besides, it's not nearly as interesting." Smiling now, he kicked at a small stone at the base of the log.
"Figures." She grinned at him. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you have any Halloween stories? I mean, from your childhood?"
He studied her for a moment, seeing on her face the same curiosity she normally reserved for cases. "I didn't tend to dress up or anything, if that's what you're wondering."
"No? I'd think Halloween would have been your thing."
He nodded in concession. "It was, to some extent. I wasn't the most popular kid in my class." Seeing that Sara didn't exactly look surprised by this revelation, he continued. "The teachers would try to get me involved by electing me to make the props for the school haunted house.'
"Props? Like sets?"
"No. Props, like fake eyeballs, intestines, brain matter..."
Sara laughed, the sound echoing off the trees. "How old were you?"
"Nine."
"Did you do that every year?"
"Some of the other kids vomited while participating in the 'Guess the Organ" station, so I wasn't asked again." Grissom, a man nearing 50, almost looked chagrined.
"Ah." It wasn't often that Grissom shared anything from his past, so she was hesitant to say anymore.
"And you?" Apparently, he had moved on.
"My parents thought Halloween was too commercialized. They'd decorate the inn on account of the guests, but we really didn't celebrate it."
He looked almost disappointed. "No costumes? No candy?"
"Nope." Her voice was light. "I didn't miss much. And besides..." She gestured at the carcass silhouetted in the moonlight. "We live Halloween." Giving him a huge smile, she looked off into the woods.
Grissom stared at her profile for a moment and wondered again if he should explain why he had invited her out here, that he had dialed her number almost without being cognizant of picking up the phone. Instead, he kept silent and reached out his right hand, brushing back a tendril of hair that had escaped her cap.
Feeling his fingers glance across the nape of her neck, Sara turned her head in surprise. She met his eyes, but was unable to read them. She saw him bring his hand back to his side, but he didn't break his gaze. "There was a leaf. The wind's picking up."
Sara was reminded of another night and wondered if Grissom hadn't come full circle, veiling his advance just as she had passed off her own. While she tried to formulate a response he spoke again, lower this time.
"It's getting colder. We should probably go."
"Okay." She watched as he stood, then offered a hand. After a slight hesitation, she grabbed it and let herself be pulled to her feet. Standing now, she let go. He didn't.
They walked back toward the cars in silence until Grissom cleared his throat. "Thanks for coming out here."
"Sure."
They reached the gate and he released his light hold on her fingers, leaving them to tingle in the cold air. "Thanks for showing me the body farm. Maybe we can do this again sometime?"
"I'll call you."
Grinning, Sara passed through the gate and found her car as Grissom looked on. Sometimes the best Halloween memories belong to grownups.
FIN