Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas and my very stubborn muse. Slight reference to spoilers up to episode 14th or this season, "Meet Market."
This was written for the newest challenge at Live Journal's "gsrdrabbles" . The prompt was snow and this little ficlet came out of nowhere at 3 am and wouldn't let go until I acknowledged it. This morning, I woke up to snow and it inspired my muse even further. Aflaminghalo offered her great Beta services, merci beaucoup! Hopefully, now that I got this out of the way, I can concentrate on fics of the smutty kind.
Today was the kind of day that Christmas carols and winter postcards are made of. Big intricate snowflakes that you could catch on your tongue were falling and quickly covering the grass that only yesterday was green and ready to be mowed.
Carefully, Grissom rolled the third ball that was needed in order to build the promised snowman. Two mitten clad hands helped him lift the snowball on top of the other two bigger ones and he took a step back to admire their handy work.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I think it looks pretty good."
Wide brown eyes looked up at him, blinking away the snowflakes that had gathered on her long lashes. "Daddy, it's the best snowman ever! It's bigger than the one Madison made with her mom." Her gap toothed smile was only one of many features she had inherited from Sara.
"Speaking of moms, where's your mother?"
As if on queue, Sara came out of the house carrying all the snowman essentials: a carrot for the nose, large buttons for the eyes, some smaller ones for the teeth and mismatched hat and scarf.
"Wow, great job you guys!" She winked at Gil before kneeling next to their daughter "Sweetie, you want to help me dress him up?"
Grissom stared adoringly as the two women in his life worked on making Frosty more presentable. He watched as Sara lifted her giggling mini-me so she could create the perfect face for the "best snowman ever."
He had never felt so content, but something just didn't feel right…
He looked around as the wind suddenly picked up and the snowfall took on a life of its own; he just couldn't quite shake the nagging feeling that something really was wrong.
Grissom cautiously opened his eyes; and as he took in his surroundings, he felt an instant sense of loss. Reality hit him hard as he reached to the left side of the bed only to find it cold and empty; he wasn't at home and Sara wasn't there with him.
He had been requested to teach a seminar and had left her days ago, regrettably in less than stellar terms. Though he had sent her a genuine, heartfelt apology along with an invitation to join him for the remainder of his stay, he hadn't heard from Sara since he'd last called her.
Putting his pride aside, he dialed her number urgently; not caring that he might wake her up and that a groggy Sara might not be the most willing to hear him.
So when she answered straight away, it took him off guard.
"What took you so long?"
"I didn't realize you were expecting my call…" Grissom paused, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. "I was actually waiting for yours."
"I know you were. But I also knew that if you hadn't heard from me by the third day, you would call. You're very predictable Grissom. Most of the time anyway..." She whispered her last words almost as an afterthought.
"So you deliberately didn't call me? Very mature Ms. Sidle." Shit, he hadn't meant for it to come out like that.
"Don't Ms. Sidle me Griss! You're the one that deliberately didn't include me in your decision to run away for a goddamn month! I rented out my apartment because you said the townhouse was our home, for the first time in forever you actually made me believe that I had a home, and suddenly it's –Oh, by the way Sara, did I mention I'm going across the country for a while and you're not invited.
And I did get your package Grissom but I don't need some forced apologies and pity plane tickets."
He deserved what was coming at him, Grissom knew this much. But he had underestimated the magnitude of her anger, however justified it was. He just wanted to go back to sleep, back to the land of giant snowflakes and domestic bliss.
He let the silence fill the tension until he heard her raspy breath calm down.
"Sara, honey, I wasn't calling to fight. I was wrong and you have every right to be mad at me. But I meant every word in that letter and I can only hope that in time you'll come to believe it."
He waited for a reply that didn't come.
"I had the most amazing dream earlier, and call me foolish but there's no doubt in my mind that it was a sign that our love is strong enough to survive this, and that in time you'll forgive me…"
He waited for the faintest of signs that she was still listening to continue, but there were none. "Well…I guess I should let you go, get some rest…"
"What was it about?"
"What was what about?"
"The dream, Grissom, what did you dream of?"
Of us. Of happiness. Of you being the mother of my child.
"Of snow… I dreamed of snow." He said, before hanging up on a very confused Sara.