CSI: Case of the Missing Hall Of Famer

Grissom tackles his toughest case yet: honoring a childhood hero.

With thanks to my sister, who is a die-hard Cubs fan, and dedicated to "Coach" , who inspires young and old alike, on and off the diamond.

A/N: "CSI" and its characters are owned by Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS, and no money will be made off of them. All other characters are fictional representations and any resemblance to real or imagined people is in the eye of the reader. And…if you believe "this old Cub" should be in the Hall of Fame, write the Veterans Committee c/o Major League Baseball!

"Grissom….Grissom…GIL!"

Gil Grissom looked up from his crossword puzzle, and calmly looked at his old friend, impatiently standing in the office doorway.

"I heard you the first time, Jim….what's up?"

Brass sighed and handed him a folded paper. "Normally I wouldn't interrupt the Puzzle master, but did you look at the Sports section before you gave it to me?"

Grissom quirked an eyebrow at him. "No, I usually read it with my coffee at break time, why?"

"Oh, just a little item the Times buried on page two again….seems we can solve the most gruesome murder, hear 14 soldiers die overseas, but digging up eight votes?" Brass shook his head, then turned and started out the door.

"You're kidding me!" At the intensity of the scientist's voice, Brass whirled around.

There in front of him was a slowly purpling Grissom, his hands tightly grasping the now-crumpled newsprint.

"Eight votes? Coach missed out by eight votes? What were they thinking? Do they want the man to die before he gets in?"

"Griss….I have something to…oh, hey Brass." At the sound of Sara's voice, Grissom took a deep breath and tried to calm down. In front of him was the only other person who would understand his anger. Now Sara wore a perplexed frown that only deepened when she spied the newspaper in his hands.

"Uh, Jim….did you tell Grissom what you spotted today?" she asked, then sighed when he nodded. "Sorry Sara, I didn't think he'd get that worked up.."

"Okay, Jim…stop talking as if I'm not here…..but thanks." He said, trying to leaven his words with a faint grin.

"You're welcome, just ….do something about it, will you?" Brass mumbled, then put his hand on Sara's shoulder as he left the room. "Sorry, hon."

"It's okay-catch you later." Sara replied, then waited until the detective had moved down the hall before coming in and closing the door behind her.

"Sara". Grissom got up from his desk and met her halfway with one of his hugs. Sara wrapped her arms around him in turn, then whispered, "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you before you read it….it's not right."

"Thank you, honey….I knew you'd understand. Eight votes. I can't believe it."

"Well, at least the Cubs honored him, even if baseball won't." Sara replied comfortingly. Just then there was a knock on the door, and Grissom reluctantly released her from his embrace. "Come in."

Catherine stuck her head in to find Sara holding a file and Grissom standing behind his desk. "Oh, give it up, Gil…hey, Sara."

"Hey. What's up?" Sara nonchalantly gazed back at the redhead. Catherine smirked at her.

"Assignments in five, you two..and Gil, fix your collar…Ecklie's hanging around, I don't want to field any complaints about "inappropriate behavior".

"Aye, aye, Captain." Grissom retorted, the twinkle in his eye the only sign of levity on his face. Catherine snorted, then withdrew, clicking the door shut.

"Sometimes she carries the "you should have told me" bit too far, Gris." Sara grumbled, then smiled when Grissom leaned over the desk and kissed her. "Better then Conrad." he told her.

"Remind me of that later…." She sighed.

Exactly five minutes later, the nightshift sat listening at Catherine as she read the latest memo regarding vacation time and sick leave. Coming to the end of the night's announcements, Catherine looked over the paper and fixed Grissom with a baleful look.

"Gil, Conrad brought it to my attention you have eight weeks of vacation time saved… Since the sheriff doesn't want the image of being a "slave driver", Conrad said you are on vacation for two weeks, starting tonight."

"Excuse me, Catherine, but I wasn't aware that Conrad was in charge of my personal life…." Grissom replied tersely. Next to him Sara nudged his leg, and he subsided as Catherine shook her head.

"Your own fault, Gil….and he does have the power to make you take time off if he thinks you need it. I'm the one who has to change the schedule around…."

"Oh, well, then you have to remember to schedule someone from dayshift for my vacation, Catherine." Sara broke in smoothly. Grissom suddenly got her drift, and fought back a smile.

"Vacation?" the nightshift supervisor stared blankly as Sara matched her gaze with one of her own. "Yes, I put in a request for two weeks off starting tomorrow sometime ago…I know I have a copy of it somewhere…."

"Are you sure….I don't remember…when was the last time you had any time off…oh…" Catherine shut up as soon as she remembered the six weeks Sara was laid up earlier in the year. Glancing at her vacation tally, she realized Sara had ten weeks saved up.

"Okay…it looks like you're off tomorrow…I'll send out a memo. In the meantime, you can go through Gris's paperwork with him before he leaves. Nicky, you have a 419 behind the Lux, Rick, follow up with Al about your Slots suicide, and Greg..you're with me…major accident on Mountain in back of the Palace."

Greg immediately bounced up from his chair. "I got dibs on driving!": Nick and Warrick looked at each other and laughed as Catherine wearily held out the car keys.

"All right, but no rap…I get enough of that at home."

As she turned back around to say something to Grissom, she found five empty chairs staring back at her.

"Well, you wanted to be in charge." She told herself, then an arm came around her waist and she brightened.

"Last one back makes breakfast." Warrick's silky voice murmured in her ear, then was gone.

Back in the hallway, two CSI's observed the moment, then grinned at each other.

"You go on ahead and plan your attack, I'll finish our paperwork and meet you at home." Sara suggested, then smiled as Grissom whispered, "I'll be waiting…with breakfast in bed."

"Sweet talker". She returned, then sauntered down the hall. Grissom's eyes followed her until she turned the corner, then he shook himself mentally.

"First my investigation, then my reward…." He decided with a grin, then headed back to his office. He had a few calls to Chicago to make.