Gryphon
Author: Motely Muse
A/N: Why Hodges? C'mon, the snappy ones always make the best angst-romance characters. 'Sides, he's kind of...quirky. Yup. This might be a one-timer or a chapter story, depending on my mood and whether or not I find out more concerning Hodges himself.
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Gryphon: /n: half-raptor, half-feline beast of mythology, known for being fierce but solitary, at least with other species. They prefer isolated areas, and live alone, but for other gryphons. Their trust is hard to earn, but once one has it, they are extremely loyal. Gryphons are not fearless, but they are very courageous. Perhaps most important of all, they are not foolish, but wise.
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David Hodges spun in his chair. Spun-around-spun-around-spun-around, stopping only at the slightest click of shoes outside his office door. Well, not office per se. The powers that be in Ecklie's realm hadn't deigned to allow such a humble serf as himself private space. Even if he was terribly, terribly important. A smug smile drifted across Hodges' sallow, insomnia-sunken face. Well, the cramped little room was still something, and very in the dungeons, so to speak, so only those in dire need bothered him. Well, except for Greg. The smile darkened. Preppy little ankle-biter, Grissom's favourite pet! His thoughts melted to acid, concentrating on his most preferred of fantasies: watching Sanders bite the bullet and get fired for being such a hyper-active little snot-
"Hodges-" it was Ecklie, impatient and demanding. "Are the print-outs done?"
"For the drunk-berserker case?" Hodges drawled, looking bored, his lips puckered in a drooping frown.
"Yes." Ecklie ignored the other man's impudent attitude. They shared an understanding. Hodges could be an impertinent jerk as long as he was a subordinate impertinent jerk that followed the every command of his supervisor and superior. It tweaked Hodges' bemused sense of honour, but he was basically allowed to be snippy to everyone else, and that worked.
"You know," Ecklie continued as the other man shuffled papers and moved test tubes. "If Sidle continues on the rode she's on, we'll probably see another drunk-berserker case before too long."
Hodges look sharply upwards. That was new. Ecklie didn't usually overstep his boundaries by so blatantly flaming other employees.
"What do you mean?"
Ecklie raised an eyebrow and smirked, arms crossed in front of his chest in a way that Hodges supposed was to convey authority, but really came off as bad posture.
"She's on a downward spiral. And, if it wasn't clear already, Grissom has some sort of soft spot for her too. It's completely unprofessional; a dark stain on an otherwise spotless lab. The real problem is, however, that neither of them will listen when I take them aside."
Unprofessional? Hodges barely blinked. And ogling Sofia is so, uh, protocol is it? Pompous jerk-off. Go blow smoke up someone else's ass.
"Here are your print-outs. It's pretty straightforward. The guy was tanked."
Ecklie took the papers and left without a word. Then, halfway down the hall, he called over his shoulder:
"You can clock out. I think your overtime is maxed as it is."
Hodges was stunned but determined to remain as coldly composed as possible as his boss disappeared. Clock out? What was that? What the hell was that! The man's bitter eyes grew even more scrutinizing. He hadn't even said anything out of the ordinary, so what was Ecklie's deal? The arrogant son of a bitch, swaggering like a parrot with an ear infection. Hodges was mulish in cleaning and prepping his lab for the next user and left the building with barely a word. He was looking forward to downing a bottle of fine wine or maybe a few sleeping pills so he'd be good and refreshed for the next shift.
"Shit."
His eyes had found a dark shadow. An even darker shadow than the confines of the building's exit he supposed was a hiding place. It was rather obvious, though. Hodges squinted, trying to make out a face, a figure…something.
"Sidle?"
She didn't hear him and he stepped closer, attracted to the misery of her sudden existence into his daytime world. Sara Sidle was strong, self-assured, and intelligent- this display of weakness piqued Hodges' interest more than he wanted to let on. Misery loved company, that was true, but he adored it, especially when it was other people who were miserable and all he needed to do was watch and giggle. He crept closer and saw the lines of shame and anger and agony etched across her smooth face and that certainly wasn't funny, not in the least.
"Sidle." Again, softly, spoken by a man Hodges didn't think existed anymore. "What, uh…is the matter? What's wrong?"
He'd spent so long making himself dark and distant and walled that the cool tone of his voice slipped in when it was supposed to be absent. Sara looked up, saw him, and a blush of mortified embarrassment added itself to her cast of despairing expressions. She ran a hand over her eyes and collected herself but Hodges wasn't too far away to see that whatever was bothering her had hurt and if he could have, he would have done the friendly-thing and hugged her. But that wasn't David Hodges and it certainly wasn't Sara Sidle. He didn't hold and she didn't get held. They were separate and different but the same in many ways too, he realized. And while she fixed herself he waited patiently for the explosive reaction to follow because people like him followed a pattern and he knew what was coming next.
"Hodges -leave, please. Just go."
"No."
"Hodges- fuck off."
He didn't flinch, had been trained by the job and by life not to flinch. Sidle hid her eyes from him and waited for the pattern to fall into place. She was a bitch, he'd be the bastard and then they'd go on their way, both pleasantly spent of the vile anger that consumed them. Sara and Hodges would be whole, if only for a moment. She could loose her venom and he could absorb it, keep it, and fling it back at a later time. But he didn't respond. And it confused her.
"Si-Sara," her name tasted foreign in his mouth, but not unpleasant. She blinked and he managed to stay cool and aloof, but only just so.
"You, ah…Sofia and Grissom? They…had dinner…"
She nodded and he relaxed slightly because it was one less thing to explain.
"He asked her to dinner, yes. To talk…about her career."
Hodges saw the subtle shift in her eyes, the denial that was crumbling. He thought Grissom was a fool, then and there. He could have had Sara all along, had held her hope in his hands for years, waiting, toying, edging in and backing out, playing with her but never doing the right thing. Hodges saw the anguish and knew Sara had been crushed and broken. Why? She's been hurting for a long time…it just needs to heal.
"And…Grissom's an idiot. A big, fucking idiot."
The words were so soft, he didn't think Sara had heard. But the gratitude was in her eyes even if she questioned his statement.
"Why?"
"Because he…overlooked you. And he doesn't know…who you are."
"Do you?"
It was expected. Hodges drew forward, still distanced, but closer.
"No," he answered. It was the truth; he didn't know her, not Sara Sidle. But he did know the cliff she stood on, and it was something. "But it doesn't mean I don't see you."
She seemed to consider his words, weighing them, but not judging them.
Finally:
"Would you like…lunch?"
It shocked and pleased him. Hodges smiled a little, drawing the drooping frown of his hound-dog mouth into a tiny smirk.
"That would be…different. And nice. But, uh, my treat."
Sara snorted and smiled, stepping beside him.
"Need to feel like a man?"
He didn't look offended and rolled with the tease.
"Oh, Sara, no. I never get the feel like the man, don't you know? I'm Ecklie's favourite bitch, in case you hadn't noticed."
This time the laughter was real.