INDECISIONS
Much as I'd like to finish 'Decisions', I keep putting it off for some reason; meanwhile, I came up with this story.
In 'Decisions' John Garrison took his own life at the start of the story; here, he's alive and still a part of Gil's life.
Gil Grissom leant back on his chair and looked at the handsome man standing in the middle of his office. John Garrison, his old college pal, was holding a glass jar up in the air, taking a close look at the specimen inside.
Away from the stark light of the room, John looked just like he did twenty-five years before, when he was on his way to become Chicago's most prominent Forensic Entomologist.
Only the silvery hair belied this impression.
"So," Gil said, "What do you think?"
He smiled as he posed the question. He'd just taken John on a tour of the lab -his very up-to-date-lab- and he knew John would have little to say in the way of criticism.
Garrison put the jar back on the shelf, and then he looked at Gil. He smiled.
"I'm impressed," he said. "You know I am. In fact, I'm a little envious. Your Trace lab is better than mine."
"I thought the Chicago PD could afford the latest equipment."
"They've got priorities," John shrugged. "My lab isn't one of them." He glanced away, his attention drawn back to the shelf again. "And you know me," he added casually, "I've never had the patience to suck up to the powers that be."
"I don't suck up to the powers that be," Gil replied.
"I didn't say you did." John said. He smiled, "Relax. I didn't mean to put you on the defensive. You don't suck up to anybody -on the contrary; you've always been rude to authority figures. But in your case, it works, somehow. For some reason, the more insolent you are, the more they strive to keep you happy."
He looked at Grissom, "You've got charm, Gil; you know how to use it."
Grissom frowned over this assessment of his character.
"I meant that as a compliment," John added, still smiling.
Grissom smiled back. As he watched his friend continue examining his shelves, he found himself thinking yet again how glad he was that the National Forensics Association had decided to hold their annual meeting in Las Vegas. It had given him a much-needed chance to catch up with John.
They'd known each other for decades, yet they didn't see each other very often. E-mails gave them a chance to stay in touch, but there was a side to their friendship that could only be fulfilled in person. That's why they'd been going to John's hotel at the end of the day; to share John's bed for a few hours just before work. They talked, they made love, and then they talked some more. It was almost like being back in college. Except with better sheets. And a few more wrinkles, of course.
Gil liked being with John. He looked up to him; he always had. No matter how much Gil learned, it seemed that John always knew more.
"I'm glad you're here," Gil said quietly.
John looked up from a book he was examining. He stared at Gil for a long while.
"What?" Gil asked.
John put the book back. After a moment's hesitation, he moved away from the shelves and sat on the chair opposite Gil's.
"I think I saw your Greg at today's conference."
"He's not -"
Gil had started to say that Greg wasn't his, when it suddenly dawned on him that he hadn't introduced Greg or any of his younger colleagues to John yet.
"How did you know he was there?"
John smiled.
"Isn't he tall and slender, with bushy eyebrows, a nice mouth and an atrocious sense of fashion?" he asked. He leant back in his chair. "He was standing next to Albert Robbins and Catherine Willows during cocktails," he added for more clarity.
Gil frowned.
"How did you know it was him?"
"He kept glancing at us," John said, then. "It wasn't a casual interest, Gil. Frankly, it was almost as if he expected to catch us in some sort of compromising situation. And he had this look -"
"What look?" asked Gil.
John wasn't smiling anymore.
"He had the look of someone who knows he's about to lose everything." He paused for a moment. "What did you tell him about me?"
"I told him you were a friend from college -"
"And you didn't tell him the rest," John finished. "Well, it seems he's already figured it out."
"Just because he saw us stand together side by side?" Gil asked skeptically.
"Maybe he knows you better than you think."
John stared at Grissom for a moment.
"Listen, Gil. You haven't been exactly forthcoming about this guy, so… I have to ask. Do you like him? And by like I mean, do you want to fuck him?"
The word was unusual in John's lips.
"He's my coworker," Gil said evasively.
"A coworker you've gone out with a couple of times, according to that e-mail you sent me a month ago."
Grissom seemed uncomfortable.
"We had dinner," he said, "We went to see a movie -"
"Gil, I know you; you don't do those things with just anyone. What about him? Does he intend to pursue a relationship with you?" He paused for a moment, and then asked, "Do you?"
Grissom hesitated. He didn't want to talk about it, but there was no use keeping the truth from John. After all, he was the only person in the world he could trust with this.
"I thought I did," he admitted. He met John's gaze, "It was one of those things you daydream about," he explained, "And then one day you wake up and you realize it can never happen."
"And did you explain this to him?"
Gil shook his head almost imperceptibly. He didn't. He was enjoying those outings too much to put a halt to them. They'd gone to a couple of museums, they'd visited a butterfly reservoir, they'd eaten at a small restaurant Gil had never been in. It was all very innocent, really; just a couple of friends enjoying each other's company…
Except that for Greg it may have been more serious than that.
"I thought he'd get bored and stop asking me out," Gil said. He looked at John. "I didn't want to hurt him."
John shook his head.
"Gil, I think you already have."
TBC