Disclaimer: Neither one of us owns CSI or any of its characters. Neither one of us is making any money from this. We both do, however, have the hots for William Petersen in the worst way.
A/N: This story is a sequel to mingsmommy's 13 Beers. This story is a collaborative effort between dreamsofhim and mingsmommy. The NC-17 version of this story was previously posted on GeekFiction. Spoilerish up to 7X14, AU beyond.
CHAPTER 2 – And Then Some...Bourbon
The room was rustic…more cabin than dorm…with exposed beams, early American furniture, braided rugs and a stone fireplace. Despite the crackling fire Grissom was chilled to the bone.
Brass had managed, with his frank words, to sweep away the fog that had been clouding his brain for months leaving him with a not very pleasant picture of himself to contemplate.
"I am a horse's ass," he mumbled as he rose from the club chair, grabbed his outdoor things and stormed into the night.
The campus at Williams College was blanketed in new fallen snow as yet unspoiled by footprints. Grissom huffed a bit as he shrugged into his coat and scarf, quickly pulling on his gloves and jamming his hat on his head. What might have been a serene and thoughtful stroll was just cold locomotion. Brass's words echoed in his ears…
… I'm thinkin' you're no better than her old man…
He quickened his pace until he was nearly running, but still the words pressed down on him…
… she shouldn't have to pay because you suck at living…
"Oh, Sara," he thought sadly, "What have I done?"
Grissom's path had taken him toward town and a little pub he frequented. Somewhat surprised to find it open he paused a few moments before entering, wondering if a drink would warm him up. Knowing it wouldn't but wanting to take the edge off his guilt, he went in.
A straight bourbon slid into his line of sight as he struggled with his gloves. Laying them on the counter he caught the bartender's eye, "Keep them coming, Mike."
Mike O'Hanlon nodded and went back to drying barware, silently studying the man who sat so heavily at the end of his bar. He always came alone, never spoke unless asking for service and always left a generous tip. That was enough to distinguish him from his regulars, mostly Williams students and faculty, but the aura of discord around the man was palpable. Despite his seemingly placid expression, he was one big jangled nerve. All the bourbon seemed to do for him was lower the volume…he never seemed to sink into the oblivion five or six shots ought to afford him.
As each shot burned down his throat, Grissom thought of Sara and cursed himself for his arrogance.
When two a.m. rolled around, he settled the tab and tried to put on his gloves without much success.
Like an apparition, the bartender floated into his field of view. "Shall I call a cab for you?"
He stared dumbly at the talking head, trying to make out the question and formulate a response when new words drifted toward him. "I'm calling a cab…you're in no shape to drive, sir."
Grissom's brow furrowed as he tried to remember where he'd parked his car, not realizing he'd arrived at the pub on foot. He mumbled, "It's a sin to kill a mockingbird…"
Morning broke and Grissom's head broke with it. He hadn't been hung over in years, but it was every bit as bad as he remembered. Sitting up on the side of the bed, he looked down at himself still clad in his overcoat and shook his head. Big mistake.
When the room stopped spinning he stumbled to the bathroom in search of aspirin. Downing four, he glanced in the mirror and grimaced. "You are still a horse's ass."
Once some coffee was brewing in the kitchenette, he logged on to his computer looking for flights back to Las Vegas. Some time in his drunken soul searching last night he'd realized he had to go home. It was the first purposeful action he taken in months.
A quick call to the Dean and he was set. Not bothering to pack a bag, he looked around for his coat and realized he was still wearing it. Unable to find his hat or gloves, Grissom shrugged, then took one last look at his academic career before plunging into the unknown.
TBC...