Title: Of Decades and Train Whistles.
A/N: This is set in the future, a few years after Sara has left Vegas, and Grissom finds her. Give it chance, that's all I ask ;)
Sara dug through the basket of mittens and hats that normally resided on the top shelf of the front coat closet, looking for a similar pair. As the bus would be there in ten minutes, an exact match would take too long to find.
"Alex!" She called, holding up two dark blue mitts in victory. Thankfully her mother in law had bought three or four pairs of the same mittens. He appeared behind her as she grabbed his jacket off the hook and she helped him into it.
"Have fun at school today, okay Boo?" Sara smiled, pulling the little fleece hat down over his soft brown curly hair. Alex recited the latest weather report back to her, and she grinned softly.
"Stop watching so much TV with your grandmother."
A small chuckle could be heard steps away in the living room and Sara walked Alex outside to the street, where the bus came only a moment later.
Rose Jaren was seventy-eight, quite virile for her age, and fond of watching the morning news with her grandson. It had become a morning ritual for them, and not one that Sara minded at all, as it gave her time to herself to get ready for work. She gathered her papers for today's court appearance and did a last minute check for anything she might have forgotten. Rose was still in the living room, though the TV was on low and Sara suspected she was reading. Her mother in law had moved in four years earlier, and though they'd had a few disagreements she was grateful that Rose was there.
She had made it just to the front door and had grabbed her briefcase when Rose called.
"Sara, some gentleman called while you were in the shower." Rose managed to catch Sara just as her hand rested on the doorknob.
"And...?"
"And you should call him back. Check the notepad by the phone," came Rose's reply, to which Sara paused, puzzled.
"Rose...we don't have a notepad by the phone."
"That's okay dear, he didn't leave his number either."
The pleasant surprise of short court proceedings put Sara in her current good mood as she walked though her front door with a fresh pizza. They didn't always have take-out, but she felt they deserved a nice treat once in a while.
Alex's bus would be there in about ten minutes, which gave her time to change into something more comfortable before setting down to dinner with her family.
She came back downstairs just as Rose and Alex were choosing a movie to watch during dinner; Alex was to choose the movie and Rose to remind him it couldn't be a train one. They had certain rules in the house, and certain times in which Alex could watch his train videos. Sara had learned the hard way that without said rules her son would watch them all day.
The opening theme for Raiders of the Lost Ark drifted into the kitchen as she split the pizza up amongst three plates, and Alex helped carry them into the living room. Rose sat happily in her recliner, quite pleased with the choice of video. She'd often told Sara just how delectable Harrison Ford was in his leather jacket and fedora.
They were only about ten minutes into the movie when the doorbell rang, which Sara rose to answer. As she left the room she teased to Alex to not touch her pizza, a small part of her wishing that one day he would tease back.
Her slippers scuffed along the hardwood floor as she reached the front foyer, opening the door and standing there slightly shocked.
"Hello, Sara." There was a few seconds of silence before Sara answered, confused between the sounds radiating from the living room and her new life, and the past standing before her.
"Gil Grissom. I figured one day you'd come walking back through my door," she retorted, managing to keep her emotions under control. Now it was his turn to look confused.
"Casablanca…?" He questioned, his eyebrow rising in a puzzled look.
"Indiana Jones." She nodded down the hallway, before opening the door wider. "Come in, sorry. I didn't expect you." Realization dawned on her. "The caller who didn't leave his number," she muttered, thinking of Rose's secretarial skills as she lead Grissom to the kitchen. "Can I get you a drink or something?"
"Coffee, please."
"Well this is certainly a surprise. What brings you to Seattle?" It had been twelve years since Sara last saw Grissom and she had plenty of questions for him, but it wasn't quite time to put him on the so-called stand just yet.
"A job offer." He replied, matter of factly, as he watched Sara set out the coffee mugs for them. It was percolating and filling the kitchen with a rich aroma. "The university would like me to come here, teach a few courses." She still moved gracefully, collecting things for their coffee and setting out a third mug, turning on the kettle.
"So this is like a recruitment trip? They show you the city, the campus…" Sara asked, wondering why on Earth the university in her city would offer Grissom a job. Seattle wasn't exactly next door to Las Vegas.
"Yeah, something like that." Grissom replied, watching a young boy enter the room.
"How do you take your coffee again?" Sara asked, remembering out of habit, but for some reason not wanting Grissom to know that she still did. Grissom informed her automatically, his eyes following Alex to the counter, where a precise amount of milk was poured into his mug before Sara returned the jug to the fridge.
He turned and left the room just as quietly as he'd entered, and Grissom's suspicions from the portraits in the hallway he'd seen passing through were confirmed. Sara had a son.
She brought their coffee to the table and sat down with him, placing some cookies on a plate between them.
"He's eight. His name is Alex," she supplied, knowing what Grissom was about to ask.
"He looks just like you." Grissom replied. "He seems to be well behaved," came the rest of the carefully construed sentence.
Sara held the warm mug up to her lips and murmured softly, "That's one way of putting it."
"Sara I didn't mean…" Grissom's flinch at her remark was almost instantaneous, and she knew he hadn't meant to insult.
"I know. Alex is autistic. He goes to a normal school here but is in a special class. They're working with him, he's been in speech therapy for five years now, but he still won't talk. All I get is parroted speech."
Sara spoke with little emotion, as though it'd been drained out of her long ago. Grissom remained still; looking out to the backyard and watching two birds scramble around to collect material for their nest.
"Does he say anything on his own?" Grissom asked, his fingers interlacing around his coffee mug.
"He'll say Mom, once in a while. But I can't get him to say anything else, like a simple 'I love you'." Sara nursed her coffee as well and looked straight ahead, seemingly watching the sun melt behind the trees in her yard. The irony was not lost on her that she'd never hear 'I love you' from the only two males still in her life that were important to her. One because he couldn't, the other for reasons she would never understand.
And once again silence passed between them. It wasn't an all-together uncomfortable silence, thought neither of them made a conscientious effort to resolve it.
"Do you want to go for a walk through the neighbourhood?" Sara asked, noting that they'd soon run out of topics.
"Sure. It's not too bad out yet."
Sara's neighbourhood was a quiet one, nestled a little north of the city. The houses were old Victorian style, some quite small while others, like Sara's, looked to be mysteriously larger. The kind where the view from the street was miss-leading to the size of the house on the inside.
They caught up on past events, lightly skimming over what had been happening with the other Vegas co-workers, though Sara had already known what was new with them from David's letters. Grissom detailed his life, a small bit, and Sara extracted from his carefully chosen words that he'd never settled down with anyone. She could tell he had questions about her though, and as they rounded the corner of her block she started her story.
Sara felt a little surrealistic telling Grissom about Michael, whom she'd fallen in love with two years after moving to Seattle and married soon after. Alexander's father, a man who lived through little slivers of traits through his son. Surrealistic perhaps because Michael was gone, and she was telling this to someone who used to have such a powerful hold over her, and her emotions.
But she told him, her voice never wavering as she recounted the joy of Alex's birth, the confusion of his diagnosis, and the shock when Michael suddenly died of a heart attack. She explained to Grissom, in few words, the changes she needed to make in herself when she was left with an autistic four year old to raise on her own. She smiled a little when she explained how having her mother in law move in with them was actually a good thing.
And when Grissom asked if she was happy, Sara smiled, knowing that she was. When she was much younger and still loved him, Sara thought it'd be torture to live without Grissom. As a small stone scuffed the side of her worn hiking boot she realized that Alex was the main man in her life now, and she was okay with that. More than okay.
There was almost a level of comfortableness between them, a steadiness from Grissom's unchanged self balancing out the major changes Sara had gone through.
"A lot has happened I guess." Grissom's voice carried an undertone of something, what Sara perceived to be concern, or maybe regret for the sadness she'd just told him about. Whatever it was, she felt she didn't really need it.
"Well, it's been over a decade, Grissom. When you're younger, it's even more noticeable."
"Has it really been that long?" Grissom asked, as a dog gave a half-hearted bark in their direction. Sara's street was small and had a friendly feel to it; children's toys were strewn about the long driveways and yards, and families could be seen sitting down to dinner through the windows.
"Twelve years, Grissom. Twelve Christmases, or one hundred and forty four months. Enough time for a new life to begin..." Sara trailed off as they turned into her drive, the only one on the street without a toy in sight. They'd had an interesting walk, and while it had lifted Sara's spirits immensely to see him again, she needed the night to herself to think these new changes over, and replace the fading memories of Grissom in her mind with these new images, of an older and slightly more experienced Grissom.
He walked her to the front door, ever the gentleman, but politely turned down her invitation inside. The house was an older one, in a modest Victorian style and the floorboards of the front porch creaked a little under his shifting feet. He looked up to her as she stood in her doorway and in her eyes he saw equality. She was no longer the CSI who once had a crush on him, who would sometimes follow him through the halls at the lab. She was his equal, or perhaps, even his better. Sara had a career, a home, and what Grissom rarely admitted to himself craving for: a family.
"How long are you in Seattle for?" She finally asked, partially out of curiosity, partially because that was the only thing she could think of to ask, even though she'd pictured this scenario countless times before.
"For another two days," came Grissom's slow reply. "I'm to go to the university to see what they have to offer, tomorrow." Sara nodded, and from inside the house a small whistle sounded, like one from a train set.
Her head tipped a little, the sound and meaning registering in her brain. Grissom shoved his hands in his pockets as the whistles continued in a steady beat.
"Alex..." Sara said with a soft sigh, offering Grissom a small smile. "I have to run by the university tomorrow though, so maybe I'll see you there."
"I look forward to that." Grissom replied, as he stepped down the porch steps towards his rental car.
She watched him go, his crooked gait still making her smile a little. Sara waved at Grissom as he pulled out of her driveway, wondering why she felt like she'd been hiding all those years, and had just been found out.
Inside the house, Rose could be heard up in Alex's room, telling him to put the trains away and go to bed. Sara walked up the stairs to see how that was going; losing the small feeling of freedom she'd had with Grissom with each step. She loved her son, but some days she needed a break away from Alex and the world of autism.
She was thankful for her mother-in-law, and didn't once regret asking her to move in. Michael had died just after Alex had been diagnosed, a time of turmoil for their little family and one in which Sara seriously questioned her ability to be a mother. Things had gotten better as mother and son had grown accustomed to each other's behaviors and routines, and Rose had been a healthy addition. Though she was slightly quirky, with a tinge of senility to her comments at times, Rose was also very good with her grandson. At the moment he was on the floor with a toy train engine in his hand, pressing the button to sound the whistle every thirty seconds or so. Rose sat beside him, slowly but firmly telling him he needed to get ready for bed.
Sara felt rather horrible because she knew that Grissom's visit was the cause for Alex's frustrations. Not only was he not used to a man being in the house, but their evening activities had been interrupted as well. Sara nodded at Rose as she passed by Alex's bedroom on her way to a nice hot bath. It would be a short one; she'd go and check on her son in about half an hour, but for now she needed time to think about the day's events. It was fine reminiscing about her time as a CSI in Vegas, and remembering the Grissom she used to know, but Sara wasn't sure that she was all that pleased to see him now.
Alex finally settled around ten-thirty, a little over an hour past his usual bedtime, but that couldn't always be helped. Sara knew that the morning would be better as their routine would resume and Alex would be off to school like always, a place he enjoyed. She passed Rose's room on the way to hers, looking in and finding her mother in law reading a book in bed. Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul, one Sara had given her when Michael had died. She murmured goodnight, not really wanting to disturb Rose but saying it out of habit anyway.
The dark and inviting furniture in Sara's room welcomed her as she walked in, the crisp white sheets on the dark four-poster bed willing her to relax. But Sara instead headed to the roll up desk to her left, the place where she kept her important papers. Alex's birth certificate, the love letters and little notes Michael had sent her, their marriage certificate, his obituary. One little drawer also contained her past life, in Las Vegas.
Taking this box to her bed Sara opened it, the smell of the strip drifting up. It wasn't really that, but the combination of finger print ink, the heavy stock cards they used to collect the ten prints, and various other little memories in the box reminded her of the strip, the place where she had last seen Grissom. Until now.
She quickly scanned the last letter she'd received from the secondary coroner David, who'd been a good friend to her, to see if he'd mentioned Grissom wanting to visit at all, though there was nothing. No warning, which David would have given, knowing what existed between her and Grissom. What did exist, Sara corrected herself. That was the past, she had no claim to him, nor he to her. After all, twelve years had gone by and life had certainly changed them since then.
Coffee. Sara wasn't sure whether the smell drifting through the house to her room or the one seeping in through her window from the kitchen's window below was the one that woke her, but it had worked regardless. The brew smelled delicious, and Sara picked up the slightly subtle smell of freshly made bread as well. Rose knew how to wake the dead, as well as those who'd never really grown accustomed to working the day shift after eight years.
It was only eight in the morning, still early by Sara's standards, though a normal time for rising on a weekday. Alex's bus picked him up for school at eight forty five, and it only took him about half an hour to get ready. Nonetheless, Rose usually had him awake much earlier than that to help her with breakfast.
Sara's slippers scuffed a little on the floor as she entered her kitchen, the coffee smell much stronger and enticing. She was handed a steaming mug and a rather inquisitive look, which she softly smiled away. Rose had questions about Grissom, but they would have to wait until Alex was off to school, and Sara was more awake. She didn't object to Sara wanting to date, after all, one couldn't mourn forever and Michael had passed away four years earlier. But they had grown very close, and Rose felt she needed to approve of whom her daughter in law was interested in dating.
The university campus was bustling when Sara arrived at lunchtime, wondering why she'd even bothered to show up. It was a busy place, packed with students sauntering to the various cafeterias or walking briskly to their next class, and she was looking for a shy recluse. Out of habit she headed towards the library, and wasn't all that surprised when she found him there. He grinned up at her, holding up a book on trains that he was reading. She smiled a little back, a small peace offering before she spoke the decisions that had come to her during the night.
His face remained stoic as she spoke, as she revealed to him just how far she'd come along since she'd left Las Vegas. She didn't bother rehashing most of what she'd told him last night when they'd caught up with each other, but instead tried to make him realize just how much was at stake. Just how strong of a hold over her she'd managed to shake off.
Sara sat on the bench in the library mezzanine, watching some kids play Frisbee outside on the lawn. It was a little cold, but no harm could come from getting one last game in before winter took hold of the campus.
"Do you remember what I said to you when I left Vegas?" Sara asked, her eyes following the red Frisbee as it whisked through the air.
There was no hesitation in Grissom's answer, and something told Sara that he remembered more than just what she'd said. She wondered if his recollections of that last night were as clear as her own.
"You told me not to start the New Year with you if I couldn't finish it." Grissom stated softly, twisting his head on the slightest angle. Sara chuckled to herself, flashing him a grin.
"And a puzzled look befell your face. It's an ultimatum, Grissom. Well, it was. It doesn't really matter now, though."
Grissom half shrugged, half laughed. "I was never good with ultimatums. The sheriff was familiar with that."
Sara grinned while standing up and glancing at her watch. "My lunch break is over. I need to go back."
It wasn't a subtle subject change, but Sara neither wanted to beat Grissom over the head with the lack of action on his part, nor waste any more time on things they couldn't change. Grissom nodded as he rose, holding the book in front of him with two hands.
"I should get back to the tour. They want me as an assistant professor. Half time, but the hours are under negotiation."
Sara was glad Grissom's work habits hadn't changed much, considering how much of his personality they were. Hers had changed, but spending time with Alex was a much better alternative to living and breathing her work. She'd also had Michael and Rose to help draw her out, in the beginning.
"Good luck with the negotiations then," Sara smiled, walking with him to the stairs.
"Thanks," came Grissom's reply, along with a slight pause, a hesitation, a question unasked.
"See you, Grissom." Sara finally spoke, turning towards where her car was parked. She refused to let herself get emotional.
"Will I? See you, that is." Grissom asked, picking apart the puzzle of her words.
"That's not up to me!" She called, waving and disappearing behind a building. The ball was in his court again, like last time, and though Sara felt victorious she also felt the slightest feeling of..was it disappointment? She couldn't pinpoint the exact emotion, but she knew where it was coming from. After all these years, the only thing that had brought him back had been a job offer.
The rest of the day passed rather slowly for Sara, and for some reason she kept glancing at her cell phone suspiciously, though she knew he probably wouldn't call. She didn't even know if he had the number, anyway. The team dynamic was also different in this crime lab, and though Sara's job hadn't really changed in a long time, it was the people she worked with that refreshed it every now and again.
The drive home was relaxing though, and gave Sara time to replay the events at lunchtime. She seriously doubted he'd make a move anytime soon, and though a small part of her hoped he would, she tried to not let her hopes get up. She briefly considered what might happen if Grissom accepted the job and moved to Seattle and was allowing herself the smallest grin on her face while imagining when she pulled into her driveway, for old time's sake.
She was greeted by Rose's rump as she walked through the door, and figured if the reason that Rose was digging through the shoes in the bottom of the hall closet was for something other than dropped keys, she didn't want to know. Alex was in the kitchen, preparing the same after school snack that he ate every weekday; eight crackers, and eight slices of cheese. Eight was a favourite number of his.
For the rest of the night Sara spent time with Alex, working with him on his communication skills, feeling a small victory when Alex brought Sara the specific books she asked him for, and then pointed out a book on trains that he wanted her to read to him. Alex could do tasks as such, but for a few years Sara had wondered if he'd just learned to repeat things by habit, or if he was actually doing them because he wanted something. But today he brought her a different book than his usual one, surprising, but still in the world of trains so she figured he just wanted a small change for a while.
Whatever the reason, he'd distracted her from thinking about Grissom. She read him his book, carefully pronouncing the names and specifications of each train, because if not, Alex would fuss and make her re-read the page. Trains were a fixation of his, and she was amazed at how he'd soak up information on them.
Once Alex went to bed, Sara and Rose sat in the living room, fireplace on, sharing a tea. She normally drank coffee during the day, but found tea more relaxing during the evening. Rose, on the other hand, drank more tea per day than the entire three shifts at the lab combined. She sat in her old reclining chair; something Sara didn't exactly enjoy the looks of, but begrudgingly admitted was very comfortable.
"Do you still love him?" Rose asked honestly, stirring an extra teaspoon of sugar in her tea, which Sara pretended she didn't see.
"I don't think he ever gave me the chance to in the first place." Sara replied, remembering the crush she'd had on him, and realizing that it was, in fact, a crush. Grissom had kept his distance, and though he'd allowed her infatuation to grow, he'd been careful not to let her get too close.
Silence passed between them for a while as both considered this answer. Sara felt ridiculous to be giving Grissom this much consideration still, but she always knew he was different. Michael had had some of the same qualities, the quiet puzzle solver type, not speaking often but speaking volumes when he did. In that sense Alex was also quite similar to his dad, though the autism generally masked those little traits.
Sara finished her tea and stood, wishing Rose a good night. She wasn't going to sleep yet, but she had a warm and comfortable bed waiting for her, as well as a book to take her mind to another world for a while.
The next morning was a Friday, an easier day before the weekend, and if she remembered correctly, the last day that Grissom would be in Seattle. He hadn't phoned the night before but then it seemed rather premature to be expecting a call that soon anyway. She nodded hello to Alex at the kitchen table, who was eating his customary bowl of cheerios for breakfast. Rose was in the midst of doing laundry, and thus moving back and forth through the kitchen and down the smaller secondary staircase at the back of the house to the laundry room downstairs.
Sara poured her coffee, wondering about today's case that she had to compile evidence on before going to stand behind Alex. She mussed up his hair, something that usually annoyed him a little but at least got her a reaction. That's when her eyes caught something out on the back porch, slightly unusual considering not many visitors used it.
She opened the kitchen door and shivered slightly at the cold morning air. It was quite bright out already, but the wind carried a bitter touch within. The sun revealed a small package on her porch, just a little box. Sara was intrigued, but it was early in the morning and she was also wary of practical jokers. She needn't have worried though, because the writing on the small note was instantly recognizable. "Accepted the position, see you in the New Year." No name, but Grissom didn't need to sign it anyway. Inside the box was a small toy train engine, for Alex.