A/N: It would seem Grissom's mother's not dead after all and since hearing the rumours about episode 11.13, The Two Mrs Grissoms, I've been thinking of how the writers are going to introduce her to us, fans. I hope they don't mess it up but it got me wondering about Sara's first encounter with her, and this is it.
This is slower paced than my usual fare, genteel even, and hopefully angst-free for this festive season and set toward the end of season six. I'm operating in unchartered waters here as regards Grissom's mother whom I've called Betty, and I could be way-off base with her character. I hope not.
The Two Women in his Life.
Grissom pulled the car up on the drive, cut the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt turned toward Sara. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet this last stretch of the journey and he watched as she dipped her head, peering through the windshield at the house, her eyes darting almost fearfully about the building. Her features were stiff, her face closed off, her jaw set in apprehension and his heart went out to her.
She had been worrying about this visit, this first encounter with his mother, ever since he'd mentioned – in passing he might add – that after letting it slip that he was dating, his mother had expressed an interest in meeting the woman that had to be keeping him from visiting more often. Grissom believed the comment was said as a joke, Sara wasn't so sure, and consequently a trip to Marina Del Rey had promptly been arranged.
Sara took in a deep calming breath, her gaze dropping from the house to her lap as she closed her eyes. Shifting on the seat he placed his hand over hers on her thigh and patted it warmly, encouragingly. Immediately her face lit up with a smile and she refocused her gaze on to him. "Relax," he said, giving her hand another gentle squeeze. "She's going to love you."
Sara swallowed, the nod she gave him somewhat unconvinced. She undid her seatbelt, shuffling forward on the seat to check her appearance in the pocket mirror on the sun visor. "How do I look?" she asked uncertainly touching up her hair.
Grissom watched her with a fond smile on his lips. "Beautiful."
Her purse of the mouth was disbelieving. "No, really." She turned toward him, smoothing down her top. "Is this okay? Should I have put on a dress?"
"Sara, stop," he said firmly. "Just be yourself; the rest will take care of itself."
She paused, raising her shoulders in a small self-conscious shrug. "This is a big deal for me, you know?"
He took her hands in his, stilling their restlessness, and brought them up to his lips. "I know," he said gently kissing them. "And I thank you for it."
"You're not worried at all?"
He gave her a soft shake of the head in reply. "I've every confidence."
She smiled, pulling her right hand out of his grasp to cup his face. Staring into his eyes she brushed her thumb across his clean shaven cheek and nodded her head at him. "You're right," she said at last, forcing a bright smile. "I'm being silly. She's going to love me."
Grissom let out a small chuckle. "That's the spirit."
"Just don't leave me alone with her, okay?" she added in all seriousness.
He leaned across and took her face in his hands, kissing her softly on the lips. "I'm staying right by your side." Then he shrugged, smiling sweetly. "You'll be fine," he said finally but despite her ensuing nod he could tell she was still far from convinced.
Grabbing her purse she turned to open the door. "Okay, let's do it before I lose my nerve."
He stopped her by the arm and shook his head, briskly nodding toward her hand on the door handle. "I've a feeling we're being watched," he said cautiously.
Sara frowned, her head dipping again as she cast a furtive look toward the house but before she'd had time to ask for clarification of his suddenly peculiar behaviour he had walked round the car, now holding the door open for her.
"There's a certain…etiquette to how things are done around here," he said with an apologetic shrug as he held out his hand for her to take.
"And you tell me this now?" she asked in a disparaging tone. She took his hand as she stepped out of the car and straightened her pants while he reached into the back of the Mercedes for her jacket. "Don't you think that is something I needed to know before you throw me into the lion's den?"
He laughed but his laugh was slightly uneasy, and he motioned for her to turn so he could help her into her jacket. "I didn't want to scare you off," he said quietly when she turned back to face him.
She paused in her buttoning, looking up at him abruptly. Her frown was one of worry, visibly unsure as to whether his throwaway comment hid a more sinister truth. He grinned at her teasingly and she shook her head at him, her lips suddenly curving into a knowing smile. "Is this why you shaved?" she asked candidly, reaching up to brush the back of her hand to his cheek.
His moue was part-amused, part-embarrassed and he shrugged, replying, "Maybe."
Breaking the contact he moved to the trunk and pulled out their overnight bags. Sara held out her hand for hers but he shook his head briskly, once again nodding toward the house.
"I'll be fine," he said breezily, slamming the trunk shut. "Just lead the way, my dear."
Happy to play along with his chivalry games Sara winked and preceded him to the front door. She waited until he was by her side to ring the bell.
"You didn't need to ring the bell, Sara," he said, dropping the bags by his feet. He took her hand, squeezing it far harder than he meant to. He was about to open the door himself when it opened all too suddenly, startling the couple into stiff stances.
"Gilbert!"
The woman who opened the door was almost as tall and slender as Sara. A wide grin lit up her face, blue eyes crinkling and shining with excitement behind a pair of stylish tortoiseshell glasses. Wearing tailored cream pants with a matching silk blouse, short honey-coloured curls tamed elegantly into a swept back crop à la Elizabeth Taylor she looked a lot younger than her seventy-two years.
A tense smile plastered on her face Sara's fingers tightened their hold on Grissom's hand and she could only stare awestruck and dumbstruck at the imposing woman before her.
"Hi, mom," Grissom said easily, his smile one of pleasure and exhilaration at seeing his mother. He leaned across to kiss her softly on the cheek but she opened out her arms, enveloping him into a tight hug and he laughed, letting go of Sara's hand to return the warm embrace. "It's not been that long," he told her as he pulled back.
Smiling pleasurably, he turned to Sara, his fingers finding their way to the small of her back. "This is Sara," he said proudly, turning back to address his mother.
Betty's gaze flicked from her son's lips to Sara's face and she smiled pleasantly. Thrusting her hand at Sara she said in a loud voice, "Nice to meet you, Sara."
Smiling brightly Sara shook the proffered hand and nodding her head over-zealously made eye contact. "You too, Mrs Grissom."
Turning back to Grissom, his mother signed, "Finally."
Grissom chuckled a little uneasily and glanced at Sara. She was watching him her brow raised enquiringly and his smile lost a little sparkle and he shook his head a little awkwardly at her silent question.
"Please, come in," Betty said, opening her hand toward the inside of the house. She stepped back into the room to make way and Grissom gently nudged Sara forward while he grabbed their bags. Noticing her reluctance to enter he straightened up and leaned in close to her ear. "It's going to be fine," he said, way too loudly for Sara's liking. "She loves you already. I can tell."
Sara's nod was stiff, her bright smile wavering now that Betty had her back to them. "You can?" she whispered back with surprise as Grissom guided her inside, shutting the door after them.
Betty suddenly turned back to them, holding her hand out and Grissom immediately took off his jacket. Sara followed suit with a little start before smiling and lifting her right hand flat to her chin, then moving it out as she confidently signed, "Thank you." She looked around the sitting room and meeting Betty's gaze, once again raised her hands to sign, "You have a lovely home."
Betty's eyes widened with delight, her gaze flicking between Grissom and Sara incredulously. "You sign?" she asked the young woman, accompanying her spoken words with the corresponding hand movement.
Sara's shake of the head was brisk and Grissom couldn't help sigh inwardly at the flitting look of disappointment that passed across his mother's face. Hoping Sara hadn't noticed he returned his attention on her. She was looking down at her hands, her features taking on a level of deep concentration and determination she normally reserved with collecting and analysing evidence.
She glanced up at Grissom who smiling nodded his encouragement. "Grissom's been teaching me," she signed hesitantly, "so a little but not so good."
Grissom's smile was pleasurable and so very proud. "Sara's a fast learner," he told his mother using both his hands and words, looking at Sara.
"Grissom?" his mother wondered aloud with a very similar arch of her brow to her son's.
Grissom turned his attention back to his mother, about to explain when Sara placed her hand on his arm, stopping him.
"Gil," she corrected, using her fingers to correctly spell each letter of his given name. Her gaze went from Betty to Grissom, looking at him for confirmation and he could only smile lovingly back at her.
Betty gently shook her son's arm for attention. "Dinner is almost ready," she told him quickly with her hands, "I'll go fetch some drinks. Why don't you show Sara the house? I've made up the spare room for her; I hope it's okay." Grissom opened his mouth to argue the point but thought better of it. He simply nodded his head, watching as with one last smile toward Sara his mother turned her back on them, disappearing toward the kitchen.
Sara was watching him her eyes wide with fear. "All I got from that was 'house'," she told him despondently.
He let out an uneasy chuckle, which he tried to conceal behind a quick kiss on her lips. "She's fetching us some drinks," he said, without meeting her eye as he stooped to pick up their bags. "I'll go put these away. You make yourself at home."
Sara watched him with concern. "I'll come with," she said quickly with a wary glance toward the kitchen.
He paused and turned, nodding at her rather sombrely.
She mirrored his expression. "Gil? Why the long face?"
He pursed his face at her and sighed. "Come; I'll show you."