Note: I said I wouldn't do another story but you know me and my dreams. I thought we could use this with the writer strike and not knowing what is going to happen with the character of Sara. I hope you enjoy.
Scotch and Vows
Sara continued to sit there and stare into her empty cup. The others had noticed the change in her behavior but they knew that to ask she would only reply, "I'm fine."
The others filed out as Grissom continued to sit and stare at her. He waited for her to make eye contact with him but there was none. She continued her fascination with the cup.
"Would you like another cup?" asked Grissom. When she didn't respond, he reached over and touched her on the sleeve. She jerked away from the contact and looked around to find herself alone with him. Shit
"Sara, is there something wrong?"
"I'm fine." He cursed under his breath. He hated those words.
"Did you have a problem with your assignment?" offered Grissom. She just sat and stared at him.
"Sara, how much sleep have you been getting?"
"I told you I'm fine." She got up and headed toward the door but stopped when she realized she had no idea where the hell she was supposed to go. He got up grabbed her by the arm and escorted her to his office and then shut the door.
"I want to know what's going on. Don't tell me you're fine when we both know that's bullshit."
She stood there and stared into space.
"Fine. We have all night. Have a seat." He wasn't joking. She saw the determination in his eyes and so she plopped down in the chair.
The clock ticked on the wall and the sounds from the hallway were deafening to the silence. He looked at her and saw that she wasn't there with him anymore. She had retreated into her mind again. They continued this way. He watched as she stared into space. Finally he took his keys from his desk and stood up.
He once again grabbed her by the arm and they left the building. Sara got into the vehicle without saying a word. He started the vehicle and drove to the nearest deserted street he could find and pulled over.
"Now, tell me what's going on?"
She looked at him and turned away. He had no right to ask her this. He may be her boss but he had no right to her private hell. It was hers and hers alone and she wasn't about to share it with him not when it was because of him.
"Grissom, where is the crime scene?"
"I didn't give you an assignment tonight. You're not going out into the field until I know what's going on with you."
Sara looked out the window and remained silent. He grabbed her hand this time and held it. "Sara, I'm worried. Everyone is worried. This is not like you. Let me help."
She turned to him and laughed. "You can't help me now."
"Let me try."
She sat there again in silence. He was ready to shake her when she quietly began to talk.
"Do you ever think about our time in San Francisco?"
It was his turn to be silent.
"I do. I see you walking out the door and never calling me again."
"I did call," Grissom whispered.
"Yes, you did. You called to ask me to come to Vegas. Here I am and here you are. Life sucks doesn't it?" She swiped at the tears as they began to fall.
"Sara, it was a long time ago. We…"
"Not for me. I thought it would get better when I came here but it hasn't. It's gotten worse."
"I don't recall…."
"You wouldn't. You didn't… fall in love with me. What the hell are we doing out here Grissom. Take me back. You know what, I'll walk!" Sara started to get out of the vehicle but Grissom grabbed her arm and refused to let go.
"Sara, calm down. This is not the type of neighborhood to be caught walking in."
She continued to struggle and broke free. She opened the door and jumped out of the vehicle but he was already to the side of the Denali and again grabbed her by the arm.
"Sara!" She stopped struggling and crumbled to the ground. He sat on the ground holding her as she sobbed.
"Sara… Friendship is all that I can offer you." She tried to pull away but he held her tight.
"Let me take you home. We can finish talking there." He pulled her up and placed her back in the vehicle. He glanced at her every now and then but she kept her eyes on her lap and refused to look at him.
She opened the apartment and he followed her in. He had been by there a few times and knew the lay out of the place. She sat down on the couch and hugged her legs up to her chest.
"We need to talk this out. You need to let this go between us. Sara, I'm your supervisor. I can't have a relationship with one of my employees." He looked at her but she wasn't listening.
"I'm through talking with you Grissom. I'm through with this. I need something more and you're not willing to give it. I need… a drink." She got up and went to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of scotch. She took out two shot glasses and set them on the counter. She poured herself a glass and took a gulp. It stung as it went down. She didn't mind. She liked the feeling. It was something.
"I'd offer you a drink but I know you're on the job. Cheers," she took another drink. Grissom watched as she downed the remainder in the glass and filled it up again.
"I don't think that's going to solve anything."
"Maybe not, but at least it will dull the pain or at least exchange it for another pain. Maybe I'll get up enough nerve to tell you I quit. You've never seen me drunk so if I were you, I would be leaving right about now."
Grissom walked over to the counter. He took the extra glass and poured himself a drink. He looked at her and downed the glass. The two stood each taking a turn at the bottle.
Grissom glanced at the bottle, and then at Sara. He was trying to calculate how much alcohol it would take for her to pass out. He was wondering how much it would take before he threw up. He wasn't used to drinking like this. Shit, she's good.
They decided to take the drinking to the couch. Sara sat on the couch and Grissom in a chair. The bottle ended up on the coffee table between them. This was definitely a show down.
"Are you ready to quit?" asked Grissom. She's looking a little tipsy.
"Go for it bug man!" smiled Sara. I think he's turning green.
They each downed another shot glass. Shit! They thought in unison.
The bottle was only a fourth full now and Sara was leaning back on the couch. Grissom had taken up a different approach. He was sitting with his hands on his knees leaning forward.
"Sar, the bottle is almost full. Why don't we call it a thruce and you get to sheep."
"No chit skerlock! I'm just getting… whoa… stop moving the table."
Sara reached for the bottle and tried to pour but her hands were not steady enough so she decided to just drink from the bottle. She then handed it to Grissom who took a swig and set it back down. The last few remaining sober brain cells were telling Grissom he was fighting a losing battle. Hell! I'm no drinker. Brass is the drinker. Let's call him. He'll know what to do.
"I'll be right over there," motioned Grissom as he stumbled over to the kitchen counter. He then fished his phone out of his pocket and called Brass.
"Brash! I need help."
"Grissom? Where the hell are you?"
"I'm at Sar's. She's drinking me under the table… no I haven't looked at her legs.. shit Brash why look at legs when you have breads to took at. You need to come… now! You can kick her ash."
Grissom hung up and grinned. "Brash is coming."
"Oooh, I'm scarred. Right here, right now, Grishum." She patted the side of the couch beside her. Grissom looked worried. Actually he looked downright frightened.
"If you shit here, we can have a thruce at least until Brash gits here."
Grissom thought it was a reasonable request so he went over and sat down beside her. He leaned over and smelled of her hair. "Always wanted to do that. Your hair has a nice odor."
Sara placed her hand on his thigh and smiled. "I always wanted that…." She blushed when Grissom misunderstood her meaning.
"I meant touching… wanna play doctor?"
Grissom did not reply.
"Geek," pouted Sara.
They sat and stared at the empty bottle. They were startled by the knock on the door. Sara slowly made her way across the room and threw the door open. Brass looked like a cat who had just eaten a canary.
"Well, I see you two have been busy," said Brass as he pointed to the bottle. Sara had made her way back to the couch and plopped down on it landing half way on Grissom's lap. He just smiled and placed his hand on her rump.
Brass continued to smile. This is going to be fun. "Well kiddos. How can I help?"
"Sar, is kicking my ash. You've got to turn the chairs on her."
Brass looked at Grissom. "I think you mean 'turn the table on her'"
Grissom and Sara looked at one another. "Didn't I say that Sar?"
"Yep." She leaned over to Grissom. "I think Brash has been drinking." They began to snicker.
"Have a shit, Brass and stay awhile," said Sara. "I have another bottle in the kitshen."
"You guys finished this entire bottle here sitting on the coffee table?"
Sara turned to Grissom. "Why do they call it coffee table?"
"It's obviously a scotch table," replied Grissom as they both began to smirk. Brass rolled his eyes. Drunk geeks were not a pretty sight.
"Why do you need my services?"
"Sar, started this."
"You wouldn't leabe."
"You were being chitty."
Sara started to tear up. Grissom began to pout. "Don't cry hon. I know am a ash. You deserve butter."
"I do!" She punched him in the arm.
"Well, why don't the two of you make up?" asked Brass as he leaned back in the chair. This is going to be better than the smut movie I rented.
Grissom leaned over and planted a huge kiss on her lips. Sara reciprocated by grabbing Grissom as they tumbled onto the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Brass watched as they two groped one another. Brass had a dilemma on his hands. I could leave right now and let nature take its course. Of course they will be at each other's throat when they sober up or….
He reached over and pulled them apart. "I don't think you guys need to be doing that until we get back."
They looked at Brass, "Where are we going?"
"Some place to make this a memorable night for all of us."
GSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSR
