DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.
A/N: Okay, so this isn't exactly the most well-written piece I have ever submitted, but it just would not leave me alone. My goal is to write three possible scenarios in which Brass could have found out about Grissom and Sara, along with at least three possible ways that they could have gotten together.
A/N2: I have actually written the next chapter of Thieves and Secrets but for some reason my computer/ the site is not allowing me to add chapters to the existing story. I'm hoping that it is just a formatting problem that I can solve by the end of the day.
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"Okay, Sara, you ready?"
Making sure her mask was securely in place, Sara approached the fume hood to stand beside Greg. "Ready."
"Here goes..."
Lifting a pipette filled with an ominous green substance, Greg dropped three millilitres into a small beaker filled with liquid battery acid. As the drops fell, both braced themselves for the result.
At the beginning of shift, they had been assigned to investigate a reported arson. The owner, a mechanic with a small business on the back roads of the city, had phoned in the report, describing to the operator a vision of mass devastation. When they got to the scene, however, they found the fire-fighters resting casually against the side of their truck, laughing and joking as smoke poured from the building. Stepping from the car, Sara had approached the team's Captain and demanded an explanation.
"Look lady, there is nothing we can do. Sure there's a whole lot of smoke, but there ain't no fire. We don't know what the hell is going on in there."
Not willing to enter the building in the absence of an explanation for the plumes cascading from the windows and doors, they had decided to wait it out. Twenty minutes later the smoke had begun to clear, and the search was on. They had come up with nothing, until Greg had located a bottle labelled, 'Larry's Special Recipe', overturned atop a pile of now seriously smoke-damaged car batteries. There was no ingredient list on the bottle, and no Larry anywhere to be found to ask, so they had collected a sample and headed back to the lab.
After a minute or two, Greg pulled the mask from his face and turned to Sara with a confused look on his face.
"Well, that didn't work. What else could it be? There was no evidence of a traditional smoke-bomb, but perhaps – Whoa!"
Jumping back, Greg grabbed at the mask to pull it over his face again. Apparently all the chemicals had required was a little time to work. In an instant, the fume hood had filled with smoke, smoke that was now leaking out and into the lab at an alarming rate. Not knowing how to halt the reaction, the criminalists resorted to trying to reinforce the seals on the hood, and then when that failed, to attempting to seal the room.
Nothing worked, and just as the crowd milling in the hallway began to reach epic proportions, the overhead sprinklers awoke. Quickly soaked to the skin, Sara and Greg joined the others as the call to evacuate was given, ultimately coming to rest cold, wet and embarrassed in the parking lot.
OoOoOoOoO
It had been a slow night, and in an effort to postpone the paperwork that lined his desk, he had assigned himself to a reported home invasion in Henderson. Working solo, he had spent hours printing windows and doors, benches, tables and banisters, only to have the owner's daughter break down and tearfully confess that it had been her boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend. He wasn't really sure. It seemed that the girl had broken it off with him the day before, and in a desperate attempt to see her, he had smashed a glass panel in the kitchen and let himself in, deciding to take some minor valuables with him when he left to try and make it look like a simple burglary. At first Grissom shook his head, not comprehending why the boy didn't just wait until morning and approach her at school, but then he thought of Sara, and he suddenly understood. If he thought that he was about to lose her, there was nothing he would not do. He packed his kit and headed to his truck, sparing a fleeting glance as he pulled away to take in the sight of the girl arguing passionately in defence of the boy she had attempted to cut all ties with less than twenty-four hours before.
Driving back to the lab, he found his thoughts drifting again to Sara. Last night they had basked in the holy grail of their relationship – the elusive shared day off. It had been perfect. After making it home from shift he had quickly fallen asleep, waking up hours later to the sight of her smiling lazily up at him as her head rested against his shoulder. Dragging themselves from their bed, they had spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the night unpacking boxes, rearranging closets and restocking bookshelves. By the time 4am rolled by, Sara was officially moved in, and they retreated back to the comfort of their sheets. They lay together for hours, her hand trailing across his chest, his fingers bathed in her silky hair, talking about anything and everything. Looking deep into her eyes, he had told her that he loved her for the very first time, before they both fell back to sleep, tears of joy resting lightly on her cheeks. After spending the following afternoon in bed together, they had driven to the outskirts of the city to have dinner at an obscure little restaurant they frequented, confident that they were safe there from prying eyes, before heading further out into the desert to lay on the sand, wrapped in each other's arms, gazing at the stars. Losing all track of time, the night came to an end as they rushed back to the Denali and towards the lab, Sara changing quickly out of her skin-tight jeans and plum-coloured silk kimono wrap top and into dark trousers and a white cotton blouse in the backseat as they drove.
Turning into the parking lot, Grissom found his thoughts rudely snapped back to the present as he took in the sight before him. Dozens of staff were milling around the front of the building, their clothes soaked and their hair sticking to their heads. As defence against the cold desert night air, most were wrapped securely in the blankets being handed out by a bemused looking fire crew, but he noticed with a pang of concern that Sara was not among them. She and Greg were standing off to the side, rubbing their hands up and down their arms, folding in on themselves against the chill.
Given the commotion, no one seemed to notice as he glided quietly into the lot, pulling the Denali in to park in the back corner, furthest from the glaring intrusion of overhead street lights and the unwelcome curiosity of his fellow investigators. As he killed the ignition, he reached up to switch off the truck's interior lights, before gathering a blanket from the back seat and stepping from the vehicle. Making his way quickly but quietly towards them, he came to rest only a few yards away, hidden in the shadows. Listening carefully and looking for a way to separate his lover from her young protégé, hoping to attract Sara's attention without alerting Greg to his presence, Grissom couldn't help but smile to himself when the young man did the work for him. Inching closer to her side, Greg wiggled his eyebrows salaciously before suggesting that their best chance for survival was to share body heat. Sara replied pointedly that if he laid so much as a finger on her his best chance for survival would be to get as far away from her as possible as quickly as possible, sending the young man scurrying off in search of safer company.
Wrapping the blanket around his own shoulders whilst keeping the corners secured in either hand, Grissom moved closer to the now solitary Sara. Calling her name softly so as not to scare her, he closed the last of the distance between them, pressing his chest to her back and wrapped his arms around her, draping her in all the warmth he could provide.
Drawing her back further into the shadows, he turned and whispered into her hair, "Hey, stranger."
Turning her face into his touch, relishing the feel of his beard tickling her cheek, she simply smiled and moved to pull him closer.
"So, exactly what has been going on here in my absence? I leave you people alone for five minutes and you burn down my lab!"
Laughing lightly, she replied, "We didn't burn it down so much as smoke it out. That arson you sent me out on wasn't arson at all, just an accidental smoke bomb. Greg and I were trying to nail down the exact cause when we discovered that those fume hoods of ours aren't exactly secure."
Spinning her in his arms, Grissom studied her face before asking, his tone incredulous, "So, wait, you're telling me that you're responsible for this?"
Lowering her eyes to the floor, Sara shifted anxiously from one foot to the other, before looking up at his face again and smiling shyly. "If it makes you feel any better, there won't be any permanent damage. Only the sprinklers in the hallway and the actual room we were in were triggered, so no evidence was compromised. As soon as the place airs out it'll be as good as new."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Grissom couldn't help the tiny smile that spread across his face. God help me, he thought, but I just can't stay mad at her when she looks at me like that. Engulfing her in a forgiving embrace, he turned and said quietly into her ear, "Well, at least you picked a slow night."
Releasing her, he stepped back and pulled the blanket from his shoulders, moving to wrap it securely around hers. Cutting off her protest, he lowered his voice even further before whispering, "We have to make it all the way across the lot, Sara, and as much as I enjoy the sight of you standing there, shirt soaked through and sticking to your skin, the little pink butterflies on your bra peeking through clear as day, I don't enjoy the thought that other people will enjoy it, too."
The reality of her situation dawning on her for the first time, she drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders, clutching it to her chest, as she quickly surveyed the crowd in the distance. After the initial shock passed, she stepped into him, tilting head to the side, and asked seductively, "Are you jealous?"
Smiling at the warmth that was spreading through his body as her tone caressed his ears, he replied tenderly, "Not jealous, just... protective."
Stepping back and grabbing her hand, he pulled her in the direction of the truck, careful to stay as obscured from view as possible. Coming to rest on the passenger side, using the Denali as a shield, he pinned her against the door and kissed her passionately, pulling back only when their lungs could wait no longer.
Staring at him with a look of shock plastered across her face, she whispered urgently, "Are you trying to get us caught?"
Chuckling to himself, he released one of her wrists, bringing his hand across to brush a strand of damp, curly hair from her face.
"I couldn't help myself. You are just the most beautiful drowned rat I have ever seen."
Swallowing her laugh in another searing kiss, he released her other wrist and snaked both his hands under the blanket, laying claim to her hips and pulling her to him. Drawing back, he rested forehead against hers for a moment as they both struggled to catch their breath.
Turning his head, he laid a series of delicate kisses across her cheek as he released his hold on her waist, reaching behind her to open the rear door of the truck. Stepping away from her, he traced a gentle finger down the length of her nose before reaching into the Denali and pulling out the black gym bag which held the clothes she had so hastily shed as they rushed to the lab only hours before. Handing her the bag, he winked playfully before saying on a smile, "You get changed. I'll guard your honour."
Turning his back, knowing full-well that there was simply no way he could return to work and portray the image of a competent, consummate professional if he allowed himself the luxury of watching her change, he began reciting baseball stats jokingly to her over his shoulder. She laughed and he laughed and they forgot for a moment where they were, the sounds of their amusement, their happiness, their joy allowed to ring out across the lot uncensored.
Once she had managed to slip out of her wet clothes and into her dry ones, she stepped up behind him and poked him gently in the back. On a smile she said, "Would you stop talking and come and help me tie this up!"
Spinning around, he was rendered speechless by the vision of her before him. Her hair had curled to form a delicate halo around her head, her cheeks were flushed from laughing. As he stood in awe of her, the smile slipped from his face, and she became concerned. Before she could question his change in demeanour, he stepped closer to her and said softly, "Turn around."
Spinning slowly, she felt him take hold of the long strips of silk that were wrapped tightly around her waist and carefully secure them in a bow at her back. Running his hands out over her hips, he slowly pulled her into a fierce embrace, her back flush against his chest, burying his face in her hair where it sat cradled in the crook of her neck.
Turning her head into his touch, she whispered, the concern clear in her voice, "Are you okay?"
Lifting his head from her shoulder, he spun her gently in his arms. Lifting a hand to cup her cheek, he shook his head and smiled. "I'm better than okay. I'm... I'm happy, Sara. You make me happy."
As he saw the tears begin to well in her eyes, and noted her valiant effort to keep them at bay, he leaned in and worshipped her lips in a tender kiss. He had spent so many years making her cry tears of anger, frustration, pain, that the fact that he was still able to bring tears of joy to her eyes filled him with amazement.
Bringing her hands up to her face to swipe at the solitary tear that had managed to defy her iron will, she looked him squarely in the face and said, her tone serious and resolute, "Well, I had better. You're stuck with me now."
Leaning in to kiss her again, he poured as much emotion as he could muster into the gentle press of his lips against hers. Pulling back ever-so-slightly, he whispered against her lips, "You promise?"
"I promise."
Releasing his hold on her completely, he stepped back and smiled. "Come on. Let's go back to work."
They covered the first few yards side by side, and then Grissom pulled his hand from its resting place on her lower back and started to make his way towards the fire crew, as Sara headed towards the main throng in search of Greg. Spying him sitting cold and alone, ostracized for his part in smoking out the lab, Sara approached the curb and sat beside him.
"Hey, Greggo. I think we can officially rule out arson."
Turning his head to shoot her an unamused glance, the words seemed to die in his throat as he took in her appearance.
"Wow, Sara, you look great! Where did you get those clothes?"
Averting her eyes, Sara was helpless against the smile that spread across her face, as she remembered the way Grissom had looked at her only moments before.
"My guardian angel brought them for me."
Before Greg could push for more information, the call went out that the building was again safe to enter, and Sara rose from her position at his side to disappear into the crowd passing through the front doors.
OoOoOoOoO
When he heard the call over the radio that fire crews were on their way to the lab, lights ablaze and sirens wailing, Brass immediately abandoned the paperwork he was trudging through and ran for the car. It was three in the morning, and that meant that his friends, his former team, the graveyard CSIs, were the ones most-likely to be trapped inside. Breaking all speed limits, Brass pulled into the parking lot in less than ten minutes, stepping abruptly on the brake as he took in the ramshackle group milling around the building's entrance, soaked to the skin and wrapped in dull grey blankets. Pulling into the nearest space he just took a moment to sit and watch. The fire fighters seemed unconcerned, amused almost, and the criminalists and lab techs seemed less scared and more aggravated as the moved around among themselves. Opening the door and slowly standing, he again scanned the group, this time searching for a particular face. It had been a slow night, and Gil should have been in his office, making his way through the mountains of bureaucratic nonsense that required his signature as supervisor and senior CSI, and yet he was nowhere to be seen. Pulling his phone from his belt, he had just begun to dial when a most unfamiliar sound floated toward him, a sound he had only heard a handful of times before in his fifteen years working alongside the famed entomologist. Gil Grissom was laughing. Curiosity peaked, the detective set off in the direction of the sound, careful to stay concealed in the shadows.
With each step, the noise got louder, and by the time he had covered roughly half the lot, Brass was able to discern a second, distinctly feminine sound harmonising with it perfectly. As he approached the front bumper of the vehicle parked third from the end, Grissom's strong frame came into view. Crouching low and pressing his body against the wall, Brass inched closer, anxious to see who exactly was responsible for the look of pure contentment that graced his old friend's face. As he came to rest between Grissom's Denali and its neighbour, Brass was stunned to see the smiling face of the one and only Sara Sidle through the tinted glass. He watched in amazement as she tapped Grissom playfully on the back.
"Would you stop talking and come and help me tie this up?"
The astonished detective observed the expression on his friend's face shift as he turned to look at her. The man gazed at her with nothing short of pure, unadulterated admiration, the way one would look at a great masterpiece or priceless jewel. Their voices low, Brass could no longer hear the words they spoke to one another, but their body language was unmistakable. When he saw Sara spin in Grissom's arms, and Grissom lean forward to kiss her gently, he at last pulled his eyes away, uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was clearly intruding on a very passionate, very private moment between two very private people. Moving away from the cars as carefully as he had approached them, he made his way back towards the main entrance of the building.
Leaning against the wall, he watched as the two emerged from the shadows, now several yards apart, behaving as though nothing had changed between them. Although he did not think of Grissom as a man who could ever really have a casual fling, and certainly not with a woman he so clearly had a long and complex history with, Brass found himself suddenly concerned by their nonchalant attitude. Sara had made no secret of her feelings for her boss and mentor over the years, and if he were to withdraw from her again after teasing her with a brief, yet intense, show of affection, the detective was not at all sure that it would be something she could recover from whilst still living and working in Vegas. Following her with his eyes, he watched as she came to rest beside a cold and bedraggled Greg.
"Hey, Greggo. I think we can officially rule out arson."
"Wow, Sara, you look great! Where did you get those clothes?"
"My guardian angel brought them for me."
As the smile spread across her face, Brass turned his attention to the other side of the lot where Grissom stood next to the head of the fire crew, their discussion clearly coming to an end. As the Captain stepped forward to announce to the crowd that the building was once again safe to enter, Brass did not hear a word that was said, the sounds around him muted by the look on his friend's face as his eyes once again found Sara.
Letting his reservations melt away, Brass embraced the wide, uncompromising grin that spread unashamedly across his face. There was no need to worry about Sara. That was Gil's job now, and he would do it well, for if Brass was sure of nothing else in this world he was sure of this: Gil Grissom was in love.
FIN
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A/N3: Please leave a review. They make me smile...