A Midnight Clear

By Joan Powers

A/N For the first timeever, I've been inspired to write a Christmas piece. I promise, it fits nicely into the Season 6 timeline and it's not too sappy. Special thanks to Eileen, Ms. Grits, and PhDelicious for their wonderfully helpful comments.

Type: Humor,G/S romance

Summary: "Somehow, it just seemed wrong to walk past a small army of grinning ginger bread men lining the driveway and the front path, and then past a glowing display of Santa complete with all of his reindeers, only to be greeted by a blood covered body in the living room."

Timeline/Spoilers: Season 6 up to present ("Still Life")

Rating: G

No matter how many times she'd done it, working holidays, especially Christmas Eve, was always lousy. Filled with an overabundance of the holiday spirit, people on the Strip tended to act even more boisterous than usual, quicker to justify reckless behavior in the name of celebration, overindulging in every respect. As the holidays grew closer, driving became increasingly more hazardous down by the casinos. While the season touted family togetherness and brotherly love, those without loved ones grew more desperate and dysfunctional families clashed worse than ever.

The desert certainly was no snow-covered vision where sugar plum fairies would dance and frolic. Extravagant holiday displays would shine like a beacon in any other major metropolis. In Vegas, they were dwarfed, almost engulfed, by the everyday gaudy splendor of nightly neon glitter and lights, shining so brightly they practically turned night into day.

However even though nothing about Las Vegas cried out traditional Christmas, there was a distinctly festive feeling permeating the air. It subtly whispered in your ear that something exciting was going on, and you'd better hurry or you might miss out on the fun. All week, the break room had been filled with holiday treats – cookies, cakes, and donuts. Even the few strands of well-worn garland, which had been haphazardly tacked about, added to the cheerful atmosphere.

Sofia was anxious to finish her shift. She didn't have any special plans for Christmas, other than to have her traditional turkey dinner with her mother at Denny's, which suited them well, for neither of them cared to cook. Both being lapsed Catholics, they weren't concerned about attending midnight mass. Sofia was looking forward to unwinding at home, watching the traditional sappy Christmas movies, while sampling some of the goodies the guys' wives had given her.

As she and Brass drove through the suburban neighborhoods, she smiled in amazement, both impressed and irritated by the joyful displays of lights and glowing figurines. She shook her head, wondering how much time and effort it took to set up some of the more elaborate exhibitions. Unfortunately, the possible homicide had been called in from the most decorated house on the block. Somehow, it just seemed wrong to walk past the small army of grinning ginger bread men lining the driveway and the front path, and then past the glowing display of Santa complete with all of his reindeer, only to be greeted by a blood covered body in the living room.

The case had all the classic earmarks of a suicide. The gun was still in the victim's hand, and there was even a handwritten note. But Brass had a nagging feeling when he noticed pictures of a wife and young children adorning the walls. Their absence bothered him, he wanted to be cautious and play it safe, and so he called in a criminalist.

The crime lab had skeleton staffing this Christmas Eve, allowing some of the personnel to enjoy their holiday with friends or family. Sofia had worked with Greg at a scene earlier that evening. Poor guy, she smirked. Being the newest member of the team and thus the lowest man on the totem pole, he was destined to be working major holidays for the next few years. She didn't know if there was another CSI on duty or if they'd need to page some one to come in.

Sofia overheard Brass check with the lab. "Grissom's not available? Wow, that's a surprise, he's usually happy to cover his staff during holidays. Must be out of town this year, maybe visiting his mother for the holidays. Well, call in the next poor guy on the list." As Jim took care of arranging backup, Sofia had wandered back down the driveway to interview neighbors. After completing that task, another call had diverted her -- a drunken disturbance, just a few blocks over, so she dropped by to assist.

Now she'd returned to the scene, to try to wrap things up. She found herself standing at the edge of the long driveway, staring at the jubilantly tacky spectacle before her, not quite ready to face the maniacally grinning platoon of gingerbread men again. The half-acre yard was littered with figurines and lights. She shuddered to consider their electric bill. Spotlights illuminated plywood painted cut outs of Frosty the Snowman and Santa's elves, and a life sized manger scene, complete with farm animals and hovering angels, took up another large portion of the yard. Santa and his sleigh, with a full compliment of reindeers stood poised, ready for action, adjacent to the walkway. A model train, loaded with toys, toured the yard on a circular track while strains of "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" repeatedly murmured from outdoor speakers.

And that wasn't all. Every type of light available to mankind covered the house and the yard – chaser lights, mini lights, large old-fashioned colored bulbs, icicle lights. An airplane flying several thousand feet above the house in the dead of night could spot the glare. To top it off, the owner had also covered his front yard with some bizarre type of stiff light gray substance that vaguely resembled snow.

Sofia had expected frustrated neighbors, driven to the edge of reason by the garish décor. Maybe one had been so angered by the constant brightness and increased traffic that he'd been driven to commit murder. She could relate to that. If she had to put up with that glowing abomination every night, she might feel the same way. However, it soon became apparent that this was a neighborhood of lunatics, who thought this bizarre spectacle was 'cool' – only in Vegas, Sofia sighed.

She spied a familiar figure up by the wise men, so she called out. "Hey"

It was Grissom. Apparently he'd been off duty, for he was dressed a little sharper than usual, wearing neatly pressed dark gray slacks with a crisp light blue button down shirt and a sleek leather jacket.

She approached him on the driveway.

"Off duty tonight?" Sofia pried, wondering what he'd been doing. For Grissom to take himself off the duty rooster, it must've been important.

"I was," Grissom answered in his distinctly succinct fashion. "I'm not officially here. Just trying to wrap things up."

"Family in town? " she asked, pretending to be casual. The man was a regular clam, a mystery to be unfolded. She'd always been fascinated by challenges.

"No."

"Got any special plans for the holiday?" Now she was being out-right nosy.

"Yes."

Urg, that man. Was he being enigmatic or evasive? He was a tough man to figure out. Yet she considered him a friend that she wanted to get to know better.

With a slightly suggestive smirk, she murmured, "You know, it's not good to be alone."

"I believe the quote you're referring to is, 'It is not good that man should be alone' – Genesis."

Suddenly, she was back in fifth grade being chastised by the teacher. Quotes were Grissom's venue, not hers. That wasn't her comfort zone. "Not especially, but I meant the sentiment."

"Who said I was going to be alone?" Then he focused his attention on the faux snow.

Sofia was getting the impression that he wasn't interested in her attempts to engage him in conversation and it annoyed her. Well, he was like that, all business. Typically she respected that, even admired it. But at this particular moment in time, she found it incredibly irritating.

"What is that stuff anyway?" Sofia wondered.

"Some kind of polymer would be my guess. Reminds me of foam insulation that's blown into attics. If anyone spent much time in this stuff, he'd have a pretty good rash. He'd also leave a nicely preserved print." He examined the ground covering.

"How's the case going?"

Suddenly, it struck Sofia that another unlucky soul must have been called for this duty, since Grissom had so oddly claimed that his presence was unofficial. Catherine and Warrick had immediate family in the area, so they most likely weaseled out of responding. Perhaps it was Nick or Sara since they were both single. After Nick's recent ordeal, there was a distinct possibility that he'd gone to spend the holidays with family in Texas.

"Things are coming together. It's safe to conclude it was a suicide. The handwriting on the note and prints on the gun belong to the vic. Brass located the family. Apparently Mr. Townsend had recently developed a tendency to overindulge in alcohol and he was a nasty drunk. When he started pounding down the drinks at Christmas dinner, his wife grabbed the kids and fled to her mother's house. She thought she was giving him time to sober up. She had no idea he was drinking so heavily to cover his depression. He never told her that he'd lost his job last month."

Sofia couldn't help but be distracted by the mad frenzy of flickering lights. "This is the work of a depressed man?"

"Ah yes, but isn't that the way it goes. We strive to fix the outside, expending massive amounts of time and energy to manipulate appearances, when the inside is what really requires attention."

Sofia wondered if Grissom himself had been drinking, since he was waxing even more philosophical than usual.

"You'd think that some one who went to all the trouble and expense to create such a hideous eyesore would adore Christmas. That he'd want to enjoy his creation, not shoot himself in the head on Christmas Eve."

"True. But I guess he never understood the true meaning of Christmas."

This ought to be good. Her eyebrows raised skeptically, "That being?"

"Miracles can happen." Grissom answered softly, and then he turned and walked down the driveway, over to his Denali.

Sofia was perplexed. What on earth did he mean by that? Sometimes Grissom could be gratingly vague. She watched him pack his kit in the back of the SUV, then he lingered, watching the front door of the house.

Sofia turned to discover Sara at the doorway. She'd obviously been off duty too, for she looked prettier than usual. Black suede pants and matching boots were paired with a festive red sweater and a tailored leather jacket. She'd also taken more care with her hair and makeup. Sofia honestly couldn't tell if Sara's eyes held some special radiance, or if it was just a trick of the lights. A golden pendant sparkled about her neck.

Turning back to look at Grissom, Sofia watched, amazed as his impassive expression changed to one of open admiration. His gaze didn't waver; it remained fixed, focused only upon Sara as she traversed the path and then completed the length of the driveway. As Sara strolled past her, she'd coolly murmured a distant greeting. If the lighting had been the least bit normal, Sofia might never have caught Grissom's besotted gaze. Or maybe this crazy circus sideshow was messing with her mind?

While Sara and Grissom stood beside the open hatch of his SUV, Sofia considered joining the two of them. To discuss the case, she rationalized. Then she noticed something else. Something about the way those two looked just at each other, the sly conspirator smiles they exchanged. Was she imagining the whole thing? Simply feeling left out because of the hype of the season, and projecting that on to others?

All doubts disappeared when she saw Grissom's hand comfortably lingering on Sara's shoulder for much longer than a cursory brush as they spoke. Sofia sadly bit her lip. For Sara had received a marvelous Christmas present this year.

THE END