Disclaimer: If I owned CSI:, I would have enough money to buy the CSI pinball machine. Alas, I don't have the money. CSI: belongs to CBS/Alliance Atlantis etc.
A.N: I actually had this story planned out from start to finish when I began writing. The story was to follow/ be able to fit into what we saw on screen (aka canon) and then veer off course after One to Go. What I never anticipated was Jorja returning to the show. Now I'm stuck trying to figure out if I want to follow my original plan, or try to accomadate the new news. *facepalm* Oh well. As usual, thanks to my beta GSfanatic for her help!
"n local news, the miniature case wrapped up earlier today after only two days of trial. The jury came back with the ruling that the Miniature Killer, Natalie Davis, was not criminally responsible of the death of Izzie Delancy, Penny Gardner , Ray Santaro and Barbara Tallman; but guilty and criminally responsible of the kidnapping, stalking, assault, and attempted murder of criminalist Sara Sidle.
Judge Daniel Waters will be announcing the sentence for the Miniature Killer tomorrow at One p.m. We now go to our correspondent, Jonathan Dillon, from outside the courthouse where many reporters are camped out for the best seat in the house when the announcement is made. Now Jonathan, should viewers be surprised that the trial was wrapped up so quickly? It's only been a week and a little more since the preliminary hearing happened and already we have a ruling…"
The screen turned black as he dropped the remote control onto his bed and followed its actions. It had been a two week since he had seen them together and nothing had changed. In fact, it was worse. They both have been in his dreams now, sometimes with their dog, and the same thing would happen every time. The image of Grissom with her, walking their canine companion would slowly morph and turn into him with Debbie, walking their dog; sometimes even with a baby stroller- in short, everything he had imagined his future to be. Then, things got ugly-Grissom or what's-his-face would appear and he would be left behind. Left to watch them as they happily walked off into the literal sunset, and she would glance back multiple times to give him that same pitying looks she gave him so many years ago when he tried so desperately to get her back.
He would wake up afterwards with his emotions gone awry. Sometimes he would feel angry, that she had left him for either man when it was obvious how much he loved her. Other time, the same desperation he felt years ago, triggering him to jump out of bed and prepare to beg her. Beg her to see that he still loved her and that they could work out whatever she didn't like.
His stomach rumbled as he pondered the idea of eating but brushed it off. In the past week, all his trips to their loft had turned up empty handed. He still had no plan but to hope that Grissom wasn't with her when their dog got to walk. Unfortunately, the other man was always there and that was if they even went out for a stroll in the afternoon. He was beginning to think that perhaps they would do the exercise in the mornings after their shift.
The sound of his stomach rumbling again reminded him of the bare necessities that he had left undone. Sitting back up on his bed, he glanced at the newspaper clipping about the start of her trial that he wedged into the edge of his standalone mirror. Reading about whatever information they chose to release was as close as he got to answers for now.
Her return to work was surprisingly smooth. At first, she had been worried about being rusty on techniques and just in general, using her power of deduction; but the fact that she was able to not only wrap her "simple" breaking and entering case, as well as help crack one of her colleague's case wide open with a single suggestion showed her otherwise. She did so well after a few days that the head of swing decided that she was a better mentor for Ronnie than the original CSI given the task; much to that CSI's dismay.
Sara spent the rest of that day fending off dirty looks and bitchy comments from a few of her colleagues who were obviously less than happy with her stellar performance and work ethic. That said, two weeks after the arrival of said intern-they were all happy that they weren't given the task.
"Ronnie's a good person…"
Grissom raised an eyebrow and glanced at her from his spot at the end of the couch before returning to his crossword.
"…she's just a little…perky."
He gave her the same look again over the top of his paper.
"Ok, she's really perky..." Sara admitted as she wiggled her toes, which were situated on his lap as the nail polish dried. "Kind of annoying actually."
Pulling his crossword away, he blew on her toes for her. "Actually, she sort of reminds me of a certain somebody when I first met her…"
"I wasn't that bad!" She grabbed the crossword out of his hands as an act of revenge and went on to use it as a fan for her nails.
He snatched the paper back from her hand but continued to fan her feet for her. "Oh Dr. Grissom, can you just repeat the bit on how the life cycle of the Western Arizona Dung Beetle helped solve the Reynolds case? Oh Dr. Grissom, how can you be sure that the lab timeline is correct if the bugs are growing in different conditions than the real bugs found on the DB?" He teased in a fake falsetto.
She grinned at his poor attempt of imitating her. "You know I was actually interested in the second question."
He smirked. "How about the first?"
"Like I said last time…I was stalling." The gentle tone of her voice accompanied with her shy smile instantly turned the moment upside down; into something a lot more intimate than before. "That was the first time I really tried to ask you out, for a drink I mean."
He didn't reply but leaned in for a quick peck. "You-"
RIINNGGGG
Grissom groaned as he reached for the phone. She stared at her toes as the call went on for a few minutes before he hung up.
"Lab groundskeeper." He explained while putting the handset back. "He wanted to know if I was dropping by tomorrow after shift to see the bees."
"I can walk Hank myself if you want." Grissom hasn't seen the bees for a week due to her trial, and the study needed constant monitoring. She knew that his hesitation was because of their new habit of walking Hank together when he returned from work in the morning. "He isn't the run and drag type anyway."
He let out a deep breath and took a quick look at the dog. "Alright."
His head was buried in a file when he heard her voice. Sara was called in late on her day off, resulting in her work bleeding over to the night shift, but he never expected her to be here at seven in the morning.
Pulling his head from the papers, he stopped at the doorway and just watched her huddle over evidence with Ronnie and Greg. Sara had once mentioned that she was afraid of doing a bad job of mentoring, but from all he heard and saw in her work with Greg and now Ronnie- he was sure that she was a great teacher. She never seemed to be short with them and was always ready to repeat whatever lesson she had offered.
A high pitched, near squeal came from the far side of the room. "! It's good to see you again!"
"Ronnie, Greg." He nodded at them before focusing on the person he came for. "Sara, a word?"
She raised a sculpted brow as she headed towards him and into the hallway but not before a glare at the two smirking coworkers in the room.
"Did you take your second break yet?"
"No…why?"
"Meet me in ten minutes in the break room." With a wink and a quick smirk, he was gone as fast as he came.
Just as Grissom requested, she left the two other CSIs with their work ten minutes later. She noted a slip of paper in the vent of her locker as her eyes did a scan for Grissom. Opening the metal cabinet to retrieve it, she was surprised by a neatly folded up pile of clothing and a bee keeper's helmet with the note.
'Meet me outside in the cage'.
She couldn't help but smile as she pulled on the gear.
That eventful day was really the last day they shared a conversation containing more than a "Good Morning" or "Goodbye" accompanied with a quick peck on the lips. He would come home after pulling hours of overtime and hit the bed asleep; while she would choose between walking Hank after breakfast or before work and pass her time with books or journals. When it would become time for her to leave for work, Grissom would sleepily shuffle to the kitchen for his cup of coffee and to send her off. Any overlap at work due to Sara pulling overtime consisted of waves and quick smiles before being dragged back to work.
With no common off days in the next month, they both knew that the only thing keeping them running was their love for the job. Well, at least for Grissom. Ever since she decided to take one for the team, her decision to leave nights in Grissom's place had haunted her. Not because she regretted her decision -Grissom was their leader so his leaving would ruin the shift chemistry that they had worked so hard to hone- but the effects of the move impacted more than she had estimated.
She missed working with her colleagues on the night shift; they were the closest thing to family and friends she had in Vegas. But most of all, she missed working with Grissom. One of the more experienced uniforms once commented that he always asked Brass to request Grissom and Sara's expertise for any case that he thought was going to be impossible to crack. They worked brilliantly together, and their solve rate when working together was near perfect.
But aside from the career aspect, there was still something off. While her body clock had just readjusted to the new hours she was working, the total hours of sleep she got was dropping by weeks. As each week after her rescue creeped by, the nightmares of that night worsened. She never told Grissom of these nightmares, afraid to add more stress to his worries about the trial, Lurie or work and just began concealing any hint of dark rings with make up.
When she had the nightmares and Grissom was with her, she would just cuddle up to him and the warmth of his sleeping body would be enough to calm her. But after she returned to work, she has had to battle these nightmares on her own. In the past week, she found herself watching infomercials late at night to try and distract herself as she struggled to get back to sleep.
The lack of sleep wasn't the only thing that was throwing her off. Her cases were becoming harder and harder to solve; not because they were full of dead ends or lacked evidence, but because she would see herself in the scenario she was processing. Collecting evidence of self defense marks or scraping DNA samples out from underneath nails would bring flashbacks of her fight with Natalie. Witnessing the family and friends react to the terrible news that they had lost a loved one would make her bring up images from her nightmares; where Grissom's smile on the helicopter turns into a look of fear as she realizes that she's watching herself die after getting his hopes up.
She was slowly moving to the point where she could picture herself in anyone and everyone of the scenes she had to process. Whether it was homicides, accidental deaths or even abuse cases, she could see herself in the victim's shoes.
Another trend she grudgingly noticed and desperately tried to ignore was the sense of guilt she felt every time somebody with previous records or an uncharged suspect from other crimes was charged with a crime. She felt like she, as part of the law enforcement field, had let the victims down. Her incompetence at getting the bad guy the first time around had lead to another crime; just like how she couldn't help the team find Natalie after the first time she struck.
But while all this was going on in her head, she put a smile on her face and dealt with the outside world the way that they all expected her to be. She kept all these feelings locked inside her, hoping that nobody saw them and only unwillingly drifting to them whenever she wakes up drenched in sweat.
The trips to her house were near routine. The trips to their house for the past two weeks weren't. There was a fifty-fifty chance he would see them out in the short period of time he was sitting there, and there was no discernable pattern to when they would appear. So imagine his shock after a week of waiting as he watched her leaving the house accompanied only by her dog.
A chill slithered down his spine as he continued watching her from his car. Should he confront her? This was his chance; he might not get another chance. His eyes nervously flitted around to see if anyone was around, especially if Grissom was exiting the door. After noticing a few others on their way home, he decided against the idea and stayed in his spot. He will talk to her…but not today.
His eyes remained on her, studying her, until she disappeared around the corner. She didn't look as rested as she was last week. The frown lines near her mouth were more evident, making her look older than she was. Lurie let out a deep breath as he fought the urge to run after her, to ask her what was wrong; he didn't want to scare her away by showing up out of nowhere with a million questions. Busying himself with starting up his car, he buckled in and swerved quickly out of his position in her direction.
One more. One more look before I go.
He would kick himself every time he got home after one of those near encounters. What was he afraid of? He had spent all this time and effort tracking her down in hopes of getting some answers; to figure out what exactly was going on with his life. Yet, every time the opportunity arose- he ran with his tail tucked between his legs. His behaviour reminded him of when he first met Debbie; how he would look forward to seeing her everyday yet freeze up and disappear after two minutes of conversation.
Sitting in his armchair, he would brood about those things before going over what he noticed about her that day. Small thing like how she walked or what she was wearing, right down to even things about her dog, like how he always marks the third lamppost down from their building.
As weeks passed, he realized that he couldn't stand just watching anymore. Every time he saw her, she was looking worse than before; to the point he was worrying about her at work and barely able to hold up the relaxed guise he was showing to his colleagues. With frown lines growing deeper by each appearance, she seemed increasingly distracted as she would begin to stray from their usual routine; only to be reminded by her annoyed pooch.
He made up his mind Friday evening. Drawing up his plan, he dropped by the mall to pick up a small present- a belated get well gift of sorts. He would keep this in his car, so that he could give it to her the first chance he saw her; whichever afternoon it was. If she didn't appear for the whole week, he'll wait for the next. He needed answers and nothing was going to stop him this time.
(((**********************************)))
The sound of Hank's nails echoed through the loft as the dog paced impatiently by the door. It was her first day off since moving to swing, and Grissom was fast asleep after coming home exhausted from butting heads with the FBI agent assigned to his case. Grabbing the leash on the doorknob, she stood, slipped runners and clipped Hank in before opening up the door.
Walking Hank was something she really used to enjoy. Even without Grissom, her walking partner always provided something amusing to watch and talk to. Now, she could barely concentrate on Hank and keeping him from running onto roads after cars. It was near impossible to not let the haunting images from her nightmares or even just her imagination into her head. Anytime she wasn't thinking about something, they would creep in and fill her empty thoughts.
She sighed as she realized that she was thinking about those thoughts again as she stood in the elevator with her boxer. Stepping out into the late afternoon sunlight, she squinted at the sun and followed where Hank led her. As she lagged behind, she began realizing how she hadn't followed up on her promises.
When she was underneath that car, there were moments when she thought that she was doomed for sure. Moments like when that coyote showed particular interest in her arm, or when the rain started and she noticed that water was pooling under her. At that time, she would regret not doing a few things in her life; things like finding her mom to talk about that eventful day, or going to the Galapagos with Grissom. She swore that if she got out from underneath the piece of scrap metal, she would do those things.
A tug on the leash and a deep woof urged her to walk faster as Hank continued guiding her around the neighborhood. She'll get around to those things eventually, but for now, all her attention was on Hank.
He straightened his tie and stared at the image looking back at him in the rearview mirror. She had just left her house and he wasn't going to wait another day. Once her dog hits the third lamp post, it'll stay there for roughly a minute or two. That'll at least stop her so he could approach her.
Looking away from his reflection, he watched her over walk her dog as it stopped at his lamp post. Quickly checking his blind spot, he hurried off the car but closed the door softly. He squeezed the box in his hand tightly as he headed towards her figure.
TBC
