A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And Grissom makes an appearance in this chapter!
Deliberate Decisions
Chapter 2
Gil Grissom knew he had never been as hot as he was today. His clothes stuck to him like a damp dirty rag as sweat formed and quickly evaporated leaving fine grit clinging to exposed skin and clothing. Looking around, he realized the others with him looked much the same—grimy with sweat and dirt, clothes and faces were almost indistinguishable in the scorching sun and blistering wind—but not one person was complaining.
Wiping his face with a sleeve which only moved the dirt around, he grinned, looked at the isolated desert surrounding him, and bent to his work. Six short weeks he had to complete this dig in a remote area of the Gobi desert—he and seven other dirt diggers were gathering as much information as possible about little-known ancient insects that were part of a much larger dig. He could not keep a smile from his face as he thought about the years—literally years—of planning, waiting, approvals, more planning, more waiting that had been involved for this trip. Every person on the trip was an expert in their field and when final plans had been approved and permits obtained, not one person backed out. And saying it was a difficult research trip did not really describe their actual conditions.
They were eighty miles from the nearest settlement—called a town, but barely met the minimum definition. Each night, they slept in small tents wrapped in layers as temperature dropped. Everything needed for a week was hauled in, loaded inside and on top of the dusty orange vehicle. They brought gasoline for the van, food and water to last for a week, the barest necessities for camping, and their needed equipment. Once a week, all eight piled into the van and drove into town for hot showers, a real bed, and decent internet connections. Then they returned to the remote site and dug for another six or seven days.
Grissom was one of three entomologists and with his forensic background, he was working double-duty among the insects and their mummified human hosts. This was clearly an area where violence and nature combined to create a magnificent mystery—and his desire was to be one of the people who solved the mystery.
Someone yelled from a spot to his left and he turned as a canvas covered water canteen sailed through the air. Most of the group did not care if they ate but once a day, but all knew they had to drink. He easily caught the container by its strap and waved a "thanks". Wiping his face again, he sat down, removed the cap and drank until the canteen was empty. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he unfolded a long email from his wife and read it again—for the tenth time, probably.
It would be three more weeks before he returned to Vegas; on a calendar six weeks was not a long time. Yet it would be nearly sixty days, due to delays in getting final permits, before he could share a bed with the only woman he had ever loved—a very long time—so this woman, his wife, his lover, sent him long emails which he printed and kept with him as some kind of substitute for her warm, loving body. He had done this for several years—she knew he would which was one reason she wrote long emails, after finding the worn copies in his clothes. He laughed out loud as he remembered her teasing, but she had continued to send long, detailed accounts of her days ever since.
There were times he questioned why he did this—leaving his wife behind, staying away for days and weeks at a time—but the pull of field research, actually placing his hands where no living human had touched, was so exciting that Sara would insist he go. He knew his restlessness was one of the reasons she helped to pack his bag and promised she would not be lonely—not much—while he was away.
"Thirty years, Gil! You waited three decades to do something you love. Go!" Sara encouraged him as no one else had ever done.
Sara. Sweet Sara—his sweet Sara. She understood him as no one else. Even his own mother had objected—continued to object—to the work of his second career.
Sometimes Sara would meet him for a long weekend, but this location was so remote, so isolated, she would not be flying into China or Mongolia.
He read her printed words again, smiling as he did. He could hear her voice, imagine her laughter, and remember the slight citrus fragrance of her body as he read about her days. After a few minutes, he carefully folded the paper and put it back in his pocket before resuming his work.
A/N: Enjoy! Review! Next chapter returns to Vegas and Sara! Thanks for reading and your encouraging words!