A/N: Thank you for reading! And now Grissom! Along with a surprise return!
Old Sins Have Long Shadows
Chapter 2
Gil Grissom arrived at his last seminar of the day with a sigh of satisfaction; he was particularly proud of this group of students. He had taught all eleven graduate students as undergraduates and each one excelled in their chosen subject—entomology was a small part of their studies—but they were enthusiastic. He easily admitted he enjoyed this class.
The students had already moved tables together—deciding weeks ago that the formal lecture room detracted rather than enhanced their discussions. Grissom took his chair at the tables, two students on his left, three to his right, and six of them seated across the table. He could keep their discussions going for hours with his research knowledge and his personal experiences, but today, the students would talk about their own projects. Four projects—all at Mount Charleston—assigned in the first week of the semester and now moving into the last few weeks of the term would, or should, be drawing to a coherent conclusion.
He knew two of the projects would be excellent, the beginning of studies that could easily take the students into doctoral level research if they desired. The other projects—work had been done as required, but the students involved were heading in other directions and insect activity was only a quick diversion required for their degrees.
Keeping his arm positioned so he could keep track of time with his watch, Grissom talked for several minutes before calling on the first group—the weakest researchers, but excellent students—to present their progress. And so it went from one group to the next until all were satisfied their work met Grissom's critical standards. A few more words of encouragement and support to those who needed it and his students were gone.
Stacking books and papers into his bag, Gil Grissom looked up as a group of noisy students entered the lecture room. Thankful for a small class and graduate students who were as excited about zoology, if not entomology, as he was, he straightened a few chairs and watched as students crowded into the auditorium-style rows of desks. He glanced around once more and headed for the doorway that led to his office, missing most of the incoming students.
In doing so, he missed two people; a young blonde woman with brilliant blue eyes set in an expressive pale face, and her friend, a young man of passable good looks but with a persistent frown that caused most people to avert their eyes. They were not coming for class but were searching for Dr. Gil Grissom, currently entomology professor and researcher, and formerly of the LVPD crime lab.
In his office, he hurriedly grabbed several envelopes, stuffed them into the bag, and left for the day. Before his class, a short text message of "I'll be home sooner rather than later" hurried his steps and, instead of hanging around talking with his students or other professors, he was out of the classroom, to the parking lot, and driving away from campus as fast as any student with a time clock to punch at the nearby shopping center.
He left the shaded campus of the university, taking the back streets to his address—streets rarely seen by hordes of tourists that visited Las Vegas. Sara had been the one to find the house and convinced him they wanted it rather than the condo they had shared for several years. He smiled as he remembered her sweet strategy—she had planned carefully and won him over. And now he thought he loved their home more than she did; he chuckled, perhaps as much as she did, he thought.
Arriving home, seeing Sara's car was already there, caused an excitement that many married men had forgotten after a few years of marriage. Grissom readily admitted to a deep love for his wife and he considered time spent with her as the happiest moments of his life. He immediately regretted not stopping for flowers—or at least a favorite dessert—because Sara had been working furiously for a week, grabbing a few hours of sleep before returning to the lab.
His excitement faded a notch when he opened the front door. His nose picked up the fragrance of sweet tomatoes and onions but his eyes landed on a rolling suitcase and a backpack, both unknown to him. Another bag, the kind a lot of women—not Sara—carried, had been tossed on the sofa. Then he heard Sara's voice, softly, speaking to someone who was in the kitchen with her.
"Hey! I'm home!" he called as he kept walking through the living room.
"We're here," Sara replied.
The unknown "we" was out of his sight until he stepped into the kitchen. Just for a moment, Grissom was startled, looking at the two women. Sara, always beautiful, giving off a vitality that life was good, was stirring a pan of tomato sauce. Brilliantly smiling, her head slightly tilted, he knew their visitor was as much a surprise to her as to him.
The younger woman—still considered a young girl in his mind—gave him a stunning smile as she headed toward him with arms outstretched.
"Gil!"
Lindsey Willows, taller than her mother but with similar blonde hair sweeping below her shoulders, did not lack confidence with her self-assured demeanor. He knew her well—he had followed Lindsey's life from a few hours after her birth as she grew up—and attempted to remember what was happening right now—and why she was standing in his kitchen with bags in the living room.
He returned her greeting, "Lindsey! When was the last time?" Somewhat awkwardly, he gave her a brief embrace before he stepped around to Sara and hugged her; his arm remained around Sara as he asked, "When did you get here?" He really wanted to ask 'What are you doing here?' but refrained from doing so.
Planting her hands on slender hips clothed in expensive jeans, Lindsey let out an audible puff of air before saying, "I was just telling Sara—of course, it's all about my mother!" One hand lifted in a wide gesture. "I flew in today as a surprise because my grandmother is on a cruise—and, well, I thought I'd surprise Mom. But, of course," the young woman's voice rose as she stressed her words, "Mom isn't here—she flew to some beach resort in Mexico yesterday—with a new boyfriend!"
Lindsey's hand went back to her hip as she tossed her hair in a gesture Grissom had watched Catherine Willow's do for years. She continued, "Then, I get to the house and guess who has changed the code on the locks?" Her eyes stretched wide. "And all I get is her cell phone going to 'no service' tone! It's a good thing the cab driver waited—'cause I could not get inside the house!"
Both arms spread, palms upward, as she sighed, "I thought of you, Gil—and Sara! I was sure Sara would be around—and I knew you were at the university now." She laughed easily, indicated Sara, and said, "If she had not been here, I would have headed to the lab."
Sara felt her husband's hand gently moving along her spine; her shoulders relaxed for the first time in hours. She had not been home more than fifteen minutes when the doorbell rang and she had found Lindsey Willows standing at the door. She listened to Lindsey's story as she started dinner—all hopes of a quiet evening at home vanished and, as Lindsey had talked, Sara had the feeling there was more to the story than a surprise visit to her mother.
Grissom's hand moved to Sara's neck, his fingers applied gentle pressure. He said, "Show Lindsey to our guest room, dear. I'll finish this—and work on a salad—or something." His phone chimed. "And answer the phone."
A/N: With Grissom at home and Lindsey's arrival-what next? More to come...soon! Thank you for reading, and especially to those who review-you give us encouragement even when none comes from CSI Season 14!
