Rated PG
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the CSI characters, they belong to CBS
et al. I was just enjoying them for a while. No infringement intended.
I make no profit from this.
Just flexing my muse
Notes: A glimpse just off the beaten path. An exploration of one of Grissom's interpersonal relationships.
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The Seeds
She walked up to the reception desk. "I have a delivery for a..." She paused a moment and consulted the slip stapled to the bag. "... Gil Grissom."
The receptionist nodded and picked up the phone. After a short conversation the receptionist motioned the delivery girl to a group of chairs. The girl placed the food on a table and flopped into a chair. Half an hour later, Gil Grissom came striding up the hallway. When he saw her, he paused and frowned at the delivery girl. Her sandy hair was stuffed under a ball cap, pulled low over her eyes. She wore a huge black sweater and faded blue jeans. She stood and met him a few feet down the hall, out of sight of the receptionist.
"What are you doing here?" He asked pointedly.
She knew he wasn't mad. She could always hear it in his voice when he was. "Visiting you."
Grissom rubbed his temples. "Don't you have classes to study for?"
"Nothing that can't wait for an hour or so. I just wanted to see you, guess I miss home." She glanced down the hallway in both directions. Seeing no one, she put her arms around him. "I love you. I have to go. Tracie is waiting for me. We'll do something on your day off, right?"
Grissom nodded. "Maybe dinner. And next time call."
"I know, your team doesn't need the added distraction of your personal life to interfere with their investigations. I know, I know, you keep telling me that." She sounded so rational. That's why she had always gotten along with Grissom so well. She could control her emotions and respected his personal space. "I just wanted to see you. That was the reason I chose UNLV instead of UCLA, to spend some time with you."
"I know, sweetheart." Grissom almost asked her to stay. "Things will ease up once Sara returns from her vacation."
"Is she the pretty one or the bossy one?"
"Please don't start." Grissom's pager went off. "I have to go. Dinner Friday."
"Okay. Call me tomorrow."
"Sure." Grissom risked a quick kiss on her cheek. "I love you, baby."
"Hi." Her voice sounded sane against the cacophony in the background. Grissom didn't know how she could study amid the clamor, but then again most people couldn't understand how he could be so single minded in his investigations, as to be able to shut out the rest of the world.
"Hi, sweetheart." She could tell by the tone of his voice he was at home, alone. His sanctuary. He sounded almost relaxed. "How were your classes today?"
"Okay, I guess. How was work?"
"Better, after dinner."
"Good. That was my intention." He could hear her grin over the phone. "Are we still on for dinner Friday?"
"You got a date, beautiful."
She came down the stairs. Grissom watched her every move. God, she was gorgeous. The dress she wore was a tight black sheath. It looked like it was painted on and was barely long enough to cover her bottom. He was sure if she bent over the brand of underwear she wore would be visible. At least she wore black stockings so she didn't look completely naked. The shoes raised her up enough to make Grissom uncomfortable.
"Well?" She prompted.
"Please change." he stated, his voice impassive.
"Why?" Her voice was even. It was just a simple question, no challenge.
"That doesn't leave enough to the imagination."
"I should look like I'm having dinner with my father?" She raised her eyebrows as he often did. Grissom realized why that annoyed to his team. "Maybe a nice pant suit?"
"No, Gillian." he sighed. "Just something less form fitting and a little longer."
She smiled at him. "Somehow I knew you would say that."
Five minutes later she reappeared in a loose flowing red sundress made of silk. She wrapped a black Angora sweater around her shoulders. She spun around. "Better?"
"Much."
Grissom watched Greg dance around the lab. Inside Grissom smiled. All of his team seemed to be in good spirits lately. Maybe it was because Grissom had been more pleasant since Gillian had moved to Vegas.
"Are you actually working?" Grissom asked stoically.
"Yes, sir." Greg looked flustered. "Sorry, boss. I met an angel last night at the club. Her name was Gigi and she was hot."
Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"She wore this black dress that was positively tempting. The best thing was, not only was she beautiful, but brilliant as well." Greg spun on his chair.
Grissom leaned against the doorpost. "I suppose she had blonde hair and blue eyes? And was very well built?"
Greg stopped. "Yeah. How did you know?"
Grissom picked up a magazine on the desk near the door and handed it to Greg. Greg stared at the picture of Pink on the cover. "Not a tough case. Stop daydreaming and get back to work."
Grissom fumed all the way back to his office. If he called her at this
hour, she would be more than upset. Her roommate might not be too thrilled,
either. But they were going to discuss this.
"Did you have a good time at the club the other night?" Grissom asked.
Gillian stopped peeling potatoes and stared at him. "How did you know?"
"I'm an investigator. It's my job."
"Yes, I did." She returned to her potatoes.
"Let me rephrase the question. What were you doing at a nightclub?"
"Dancing, that's it." She paused. "The gorgeous geek, that's how you knew, isn't it? He works for you, that's why I recognized his name."
"Yes. Greg works for me." Grissom looked at her coolly. "Why were you out at the club?"
"I was bored. You were at work and I had nothing to do. Tracie and some of the other girls were going so I tagged along. It's not like I went to pick up a guy."
Grissom squirmed anxiously. The idea of Gillian having sex made him uncomfortable. "I thought you weren't going to wear the black dress anymore."
"I said I wouldn't wear it to dinner, I didn't say I would get rid of it." She looked at him and rolled her eyes in a youthful sign of irritation. "Besides, I had nothing else to go clubbing in."
Grissom rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying not to lose his cool. "How did you get in?"
"I showed the bouncer my UNLV ID."
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don't you hate it when the author stops in the middle of something?
let me know if you'd like to read the rest.