A.N: Thanks for the reviews for last chapter. Really great feedback system to see how I need to improve. And a big thanks to my beta GSFanatic for her help as usual.
Disclaimer: If CSI was mine.... I would probably have enough money to buy the Toronto Blue Jays, and give them a payroll that will actually help them compete. Well, I actually don't know how much CBS or Alliance Atlantis makes a year based on this franchise, so the aforementioned idea is based on pure speculation. Heh.
"I know you doctors don't believe us old folks when we say this, but chicken broth helps…"
"I'll give it a try, Bertha." Faking a terrible cold wasn't too difficult with his head throbbing dully and gag reflex on hyper drive.
The older woman tutted on the other end of the phone. "You better! If you still sound this sick tomorrow, I'll find out where you live and drop some off!"
Their conversation ended shortly after, leaving Lurie questioning his next move. He eventually chose just to stay as he was for the past hour; in his bed in a minimalist styled room cloaked in darkness-protected from daylight by blinds acting as guards to his unkempt kingdom.
He had gone to bed after finishing his six pack, pulled out his "emergency" whiskey, and "back up" vodka. As a medical professional, he knew it was a horrible risk he took; yet drowning in his vomit sounded better to him than facing those questions. Oh, those questions. He willed himself to think about anything else at that moment; to remember his motto, how sick he felt or even his work. Alas, the past twenty four hours somehow wormed its way back into his memory.
Even in his tipsy state, the images of the doctor with her were burned into his brain. The way he held her, the way she automatically leaned into him; oh it was too much. Lurie's eyebrows drew together again as this head throbbed even more. Why didn't the doctor mention that his …lover… looked so familiar to Debbie? Who was this Sara? Is there a tangible connection between the two women?
He ran his hands through his hair. The alcohol had gripped him; it had given him a killer headache but forgotten to prevent him from remembering the events of last night. A dry heave reduced him to a further mess as he rolled onto his side and into a ball. He was nearly recovered from that event when he opened his eyes to see his pale demeanor staring back at him.
The look scared him for a few seconds; the rings under his eyes, skin color and messy hair was something he was unaccompanied to. Usually, the image staring back at him from the tall stand alone mirror was much more appealing. Well, at least that was the image when she was still with him. His preparation for their first date was the first time he had really looked at himself in the mirror for that long. Lurie felt his heart clench as he thought about their first date.
Questioning what she saw in him, Vincent Marcelle Lurie, was always part of his pre-date ritual. He was much older than her, not as physically appealing as her younger suitors and definitely not as suave; but she wanted him. Seeing himself, now, with his wrinkles accentuated and unappealing skin tone was just too much. Did she leave him because she saw past his pampered self to see this? Was she the type who cared?
"No." He mumbled to the air as he rolled onto his other side, away from the mirror. Just remember the good times…The phrase was repeated for a few more times as he dug up the fun they had together. Her smile, her laughter…all those things he loved about her, he dug back up.
It was after an hour of calming down and slowly recovering from his over drinking when he glanced the mirror again. He had returned to his normal flesh tone but was still rather disheveled. Desperate to take his attention off himself, he flipped on the TV in his room to find the 24 hours Las Vegas news channel showing their clip of yesterday's court house drama.
Now that he wasn't watching the clip on a dancing TV, he was able to concentrate on her more intently. She wasn't smiling or laughing but seeing her in flesh made him happier in a sense. As he watched the doctor's action's again, he found himself questioning the article he read about biological coding factors again. If two women had the same features, would they like the same type of aesthetics or designs? So if Debbie liked what she saw of him would…
"T-that's stupid." He was talking to air again, and he knew it, but he knew his idea was stretching the theory. He knew relationships aren't purely based on physical aspects, yet he found himself making comparisons to the other doctor as he stared aimlessly at the TV.
Grissly, or whatever his name, was around the same age (if not older) than he is. The other man was definitely not as tall. There was also some differences in the shape of their bodies, but they were both men who relied on their heads. Grissly used his to solve crimes, and he used his to heal.
The fact that she picked Grissly instead of younger, taller, possibly more attractive suitors shows that she didn't care about the physical. Much like why Debbie picked him. So if the two women were physically, and in a sense mentally alike…
RINNNNNGGGG
Lurie jumped a little as he dug through his covers to find the handset. Finding the handset on its third ring, he answered it; but not before pondering in amazement about how the two women were so alike.
The rooms stayed protected from the sunshine. A glow existed around all the windows, but that was all he allowed of their trespassing. The clock's hands seemed to move at a snail's pace as its tick echoed off his largely empty walls. He had gone back to bed after the second call, which turned out to be an overzealous telemarketer, and stayed there until his body forced him out of the mess.
Now, after a light lunch and a quick glance at the news to make sure nothing big happened, he sat in his armchair with a medical journal opened but mind far away. He wasn't sure if he should return to his position at the park today. The past week had been fruitless; with no sign of her even returning to that address. His fingers rubbed the page corner of the article he opened up as the images from last night's video replayed in his head.
The paperwork said their relationship was mere employer-employee, but his actions last night easily overrode the document's words. There was something more there, and the doctor was sure. As Grissom, a name he now was beginning to remember, said –the two men share similar perspectives on the topic of relationships. Grissom had used this insight during their first encounter, and now it was Lurie's turn.
His brows drew together as a theory began congealing from all the bits of information he had. Could she be staying with him, at least for the time being as she recovers? She has no other friends or family she held higher than him according to the documents- so would she had to be at Grissom's place if she wasn't at home, right? Does this mean that he would have to wait even longer to contact her? He couldn't show up on his street, Grissom would for sure recognize him. The criminalist didn't seem like the type to forget his suspects quickly.
Lurie slammed the journal closed as he realized all the new problems that arise from the possible living arrangement. He wanted to see her so badly, but his fear of facing questions that even he was not sure he had the answer to, acted as a counterweight. His fingers were now tapping a speedy rhythm on his armrest as his brain weighed out his options. There were limited options, but all ideas required one thing…Grissom's address.
"I'm not sure how I can help you on this."
"I just need his address…y-you can get that for me, right?"
"Well yes, I could but it might take a little longer; being in Canada and all while you want me to search up an American.-"
"That's fine; just call me back when you get it." Lurie interrupted.
His brother let out a deep breath on the other end. "I still think you should take this to the authorities. If he owes you money, it won't do any good going over to scare him-trust me, I've dealt with too many cases back in days like this."
"He's part of LVPD." Lurie blurted out quickly, before quickly adding "I'm sure he has connections that would help him win the case."
Another deep breath. "Look, I'll get you the address but I'm also going to hook you up with a friend of mine in Boulder City ok? He's also a for-hire down there. He'll know how to handle that guy"
"So when do you start again?"
"Next week. Ecklie says he doesn't want me back prematurely."
Grissom scoffed. "That's awfully nice of him. He's probably doing it to save himself from paying you more injury leave." He continued whipping the batter as Sara watched on from the opposite side of the island.
She couldn't help but smirk at his jab at the other man. "You know," She leaned closer to watch his work, "he's been a lot nicer to me lately. Maybe you should try to play nicer instead of purposely pissing him off."
"I don't know what you're talking about." His eyes flicked up from to her and back to his bowl.
"I never knew that you regularly turn off your cell phone when working cases."
"The phone was on vibrate and I left it in my jacket pocket while I was at the Go-Kart place."
"For the whole afternoon?"
"There were a lot of carts I had to inspect." He smirked at her before pouring the batter into the pan. "You think Hank would like this?"
"Stop changing the topic." She couldn't help but smile as she watched him dip his finger into the batter and let their dog taste what was going to be his birthday cake. "Well, the site I got the recipe from said that their dog loved it; and as of now, it looks like Hank's a fan too."
The big dog had quickly finished off the batter and now had a paw on Grissom's leg as he tried to raise himself to the level of the island. Grissom quickly shooed the boxer's head away from the pan, "It'll taste even better when it's not liquid, bud." The animal gave him an annoyed look before giving Sara a sad face. She patted him on the head; but it wasn't what he was looking for so he ended trotting off to his corner to sulk.
Grissom ignored Hank's glare as he placed the cake in the oven and set the timer. He turned around to start cleaning up, only to find that Sara had already taken away the used utensils.
Ever since she had left the hospital, she had been working more and more with her good arm in preparation to go back to work. She had even asked for, and received much to Grissom's silent worrying, a back-to-work approval from Dr. Wong the day after her premature release.
Grissom remained silent as he watched her put so much effort into cleaning a simple bowl. She could be doing that with two hands if it wasn't for him. If only he was able to connect the dots quicker and nab Natalie before all this happened.
"One way, or another, I'm gonna find ya…"
Her voice reminded him of what he wasn't doing. He moved quietly to the sink. "Let me take care of that."
"Hey, I need the practice." She playfully batted his hands away with the scrub before she continued her work.
"In scrubbing evidence clean?" Grissom grinned as she couldn't hold back a smile at his lame joke. His second attempt at commandeering the dirty dishes from her was received with another whack from the scrub.
Her gaze met his as she tossed the spatula on to the drying rack. "You know what I mean."
The grin on his face slipped a bit. Although her words bore no ulterior motive or blame, it reminded him of why she needed to 'practice' to begin with. He gently stroked her cheek before kissing her tenderly. Her good arm wrapped around his neck as she deepened the kiss and he ignored the feeling of something running down his back. Something really cold.
"Did you just drip soap down my back?" He murmured with half drooped lids after they came up for air. The blush on her face answered his question. They stayed like that for a few more seconds before the sound of water dripping reminded them of their task. "Just…let me help you ok?"
She pursed her lips and feigned annoyance before tossing him the drying towel and returning to her task. He took the rag as they began discussing their plans for the next week; and Grissom felt that things were going back to the way they should be.
The next few hours crawled by in the same style as the first half of his day. By the time his brother called, Lurie was still in the dark about what his next step should be. All he knew was that he wanted to swing by today; just to get a taste of what he was up against.
"I couldn't get my hands on Jack," his brother said, "but here's the guy's address." He quickly gave him the information and their short conversation was about to come to an end when he added. "Just…be careful alright?"
"I will." He hung up the phone and stared at his scribbles on the piece of paper. Let's see what's out there.
He checked the slip of paper again. This wasn't what he had expected. Circling the block one more time, he took a good look as he quietly cruised around. It was late noon; his usual time for enjoying a journal under a shade, and this neighbourhood was similar in comparison to his usual hang out- quiet and lonely.
The neighborhood was relatively new. "Key card elevator access to your own floor!" a slightly sun bleached billboard boasted to anyone who cared. The planners had renovated old warehouses into posh loft complexes with green space between each of them.
Keeping an eye on the complex of interest, he slipped his car into a shadow of the neighboring complex and put it into park. Like Sara's apartment, the complex seemed to house no security guard but included security cameras pointing at the door. He realized that this, combined with the key card access only elevator, meant there was no way he would be able to reach her without leaving a track for Grissom to see. And if Grissom saw him, he would for sure stop Lurie from getting near her.
Gritting his teeth, he gripped his steering wheel with white knuckles as he tried to figure a way around his problem. Although he wasn't sure that she lived with him, something in him told him that his theories were most probably correct. He felt the vein on his forehead pulse at the same beat that the gears in his head were working to as he sat there.
Emails and letters were too easy to track; that's what he learned from all those Forensics shows-dramas or reality based. Her workplace was an option, but walking into the crime lab didn't seem like a good idea even if they didn't have a camera. He would try Desert Palms but she wasn't coming back for check ups; and she didn't get sent to pick up a lot of evidence there even before the whole ordeal.
A deep breath escaped him as the gears creeped to their final position. Aside from sitting in this spot on a daily basis- which had its problem since this street wasn't as busy as the other street- he was all out of ideas.
"You're so fat."
He stared back at her with a blank stare.
"Yes, you are sooooo fat."
Another stare.
"Are you calling Hank fat again?" Grissom's voice echoed from the kitchen before the man followed with cups in his hands. He imitated her kneeling position as he handed one of the mugs. "We're lucky he's far from self conscious."
Hank made a soft snorting sound as his eyes watched the two humans before him. His belly was full from all the cake they fed him. It tasted like carrots and oats and all he wanted to do was take a nap.
"Hmmm well we can go for a walk later on to burn off those calories, won't we?" Hank's tail waved lazily at her words, but it was obvious that he wanted to do something else before going out.
Grissom pat his friend on his stomach before pushing off back onto his feet and offering Sara his hand. "So I guess in an hour or s-"
RINNNGGGGGG
He pulled her up before grabbing the handset.
"Grissom."
"Have you been watching the news?" It was the undersherriff.
"Yes." A beat. "Everyone's trying to figure out who gets Huxley's fortune since his will wasn't written well and the lawyer is under attack from his many girlfriends; all claiming that he had promised them more or something else."
"Stop shitting with me Grissom." The deadly calm in his voice stopped Grissom from replying. "You're lucky that everyone's feeding off Huxley trash. We get that ban because we're worried about your reputation and you go do that on screen? Wh-"
Grissom's browed furrowed. "What are we talking about?" Sara took the mug from him with a worried glance and placed it on the coffee table. Undersheriff, he mouthed to her as he turned his attention back to the ranting man.
"You asked for the ban and I got it for you. You were all worried about ruining both your reputation along with the lab's and then you pretty much carry her to the car! Damnit Grissom, I had to pull strings for that -"
"Would you rather if every publication published every detail on my relationship with Sara? And then have both our integrity and work questioned at every trial? All they have for now is speculation and gossip-'information' that judges might dismiss." The silence on the other end signaled that Grissom had won, for now. "Goodbye."
He slammed phone back into its holder before he felt Sara's good arm wrap around his waist from behind. Placing his hand on hers, they stayed silent for a few minutes as his heart pounded away.
"You want to take a walk around the block?" She mumbled into the fabric of his t-shirt.
He squeezed her hand and whistled for Hank's attention. "Come on boy, we're going for a walk."
He didn't plan to be there for long. Even before going, he had predicted that it would end up like this; with him all disorientated about what step he should take next. Somewhere in his brain, he knew that he was getting nowhere; maybe he should just give up and continue with his original plan. But he knew he needed answers—or he'd end up on the same path he was traveling before his trip last year.
With a deep breath and a longing glance at the building, he bowed his head as his hands moved towards the keys in the ignition. There was no point in staying longer, for today. In addition, he was worried that the neighbors would begin to get suspicious of he stayed any longer as the neighborhood wasn't as busy as the other locations. This was another complication he would have to take into account for any future visits.
His hand was on the key and about to give it a good twist when a dog barked. Following his instincts, he took a quick glance towards the direction of the noise only to be stopped by the image he saw.
They had a dog. They had a big dog. They were walking their dog. They were walking their dog and Grissom was holding her hand.
For a second, he felt vindicated; his theories were correct – they were in a relationship and she was at his house. The reality of the situation quickly caught up as he felt an intangible feeling flood his senses. Disappointment, jealousy, and even hope seemed to mingle in him. He nervously licked his lips as he started his car with a shaky hand. There was no way he would confront her today, not with him around. Without bothering to check his blind spot, he accelerated out of his spot and sped past them; glancing in the rear view mirror only when he was a block away.
TBC
AN2: Sorry about the formatting. Don't know what's up with this computer.