Disclaimer: Not mine. I own nothing, I earn nothing.
Notes: Post POTR. Not shipping, just a head worm that wouldn't go away. And many thanks to Mingsmommy for her help. x
ACTS OF JUSTICE, ACTS OF VENGEANCE
From his seat he observed her; straight spine and low shoulders, perfectly applied make-up, dark eyes, dark lips a flawless mask of her own to hide behind. He could feel his heavy sigh as it built in his chest and released it as slowly as possible.
"If you had come to us Heather, we could have given you justice."
Across the delicately laid table she gave an inscrutable smile and noted, not for the first time the sameness, the differences between them.
"It was not justice that I wanted Dr Grissom."
Heather considered her cup deeply before taking a delicate sip.
"I wanted to destroy him. To make him bleed, to feel for a while a tenth of what he had visited upon my child, upon myself."
Her voice caught a wistful tone before trailing off. "I would have scourged him with scorpions…"
Across the delicate cloth covering highly polished walnut wood, he stretched out his hand, unsurprised when she withdrew her own as though burned. She looked down at the pale skin of her fingers with an empty fascination.
"No. Do not make a show of empathy now Dr. Grissom; I do not need your pity."
He let out another low sigh, and took his hand back. "Sympathy then, Heather."
She looked up at him, eyes dark but lacking accusation. "You don't have sympathy. You don't have the capacity, and especially not for this. You have curiosity and pity and neither are any use to me."
"I can get justice though, for Zoe. Surely that must count for something."
"Justice is an artificial construct Dr Grissom. He will be punished for the disruption he has caused to society and nothing more. How is that any good to me? He killed… he tortured my baby. Tell me how is justice going to make that right?"
She moved her gaze back down to the half full cup in front of her before returning to capture his gaze.
"In this world there are acts of justice, and acts of vengeance and in their times we know their differences."
The tired, faded edge to her voice hardened; her words becoming flint shards on her tongue.
"Seek your justice Gil; find your balance on her scales. She does not cover her eyes to remain impartial. She does not look because she does not dare."
In a moment of agitated inelegance she drained her cup.
"Vengeance is mine, and I took it."
Heather pressed her hands flat upon the table top until the skin around her fingertips flushed pink. Across from her, Grissom shifted, uncomfortable in his seat but unable to leave.
"It was not sought for me, through a blind machine as I stood aside helpless and impotent. I looked. And that will be my comfort in my grief and my rage. That is where I will find my balance.
Her chair pushed back as she stood. He knew he was dismissed.