Only one (possibly two) more chapters to go! I hope you like this one :)
x x x x
It almost felt wrong, sneaking into Sara's flat. As he latched the door and pocketed the spare key he had to keep reminding himself that he was doing this for her.
Catherine hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said there might be a build up of mail – he'd nearly lost half if it climbing the stairs. It didn't help that the majority of it seemed to be catalogues and magazines. Having got it into the apartment in one piece, he opted to sort that first. Cath had already developed a system of piles: magazines, personal, bills and junk. The latter, he decided, could bypass the owner and he dumped the stack in the trash can.
Grissom had organised some sort of deal with her utilities so that she could catch up on payments when she was out of hospital. Thankfully, Greg noted, there weren't too many for her to worry about.
With that small task out of the way, he scanned the little apartment in search of another job. He didn't really know why Catherine had sent him here, other than to give him something to occupy his growing anxiety. But while he was here, he was damn well going to make himself useful.
Cleaning, he decided at last. He could clean the flat. After a brief hunt, he found her products and began dusting the furniture.
Contrary to his apartment's reputation, he was actually surprisingly house-proud. It was a habit that had been forced upon him at his mother's insistence. And the fact that she used to turn up unannounced when he was in college meant he had to keep his side of the dorm tidy, even if his roommate made no such effort.
While cleaning her bookshelf he took to opportunity to scan her music collection, making a mental note of which albums he wanted to borrow. He would be spending plenty of time here in the coming weeks anyway as Sara healed, so he would bring his laptop one day and they could trade music.
Her film collection was less than extensive, however. Noting the incline towards action films, he decided he would bring his own round to keep her occupied. They could have movie nights, he smiled to himself.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned and, mewling pitifully on the balcony, was a small tabby cat.
Sara didn't have a cat.
Greg slid the balcony door open and the kitten wandered in, emitting a disgruntled grumble at being kept waiting. He scooped the little furball up, scratching behind it's ear.
"Ah, you're a neighbour." He noted the address on the tag. "Well I'm sorry little cat, Sara's not here right now." He placed it back on its paws, hoping it would leave of it's own volition. Instead, it scampered across the apartment and jumped onto the counter, sitting down in front of a specific cupboard. Greg was beginning to get the impression that this little creature was a regular visitor to Casa Di Sidle.
At the cat's insistence he opened the cupboard and sure enough there were several sachets of food.
"Alright, alright." He muttered when the kitten continued to cry until he placed a bowl on the counter for her. "Do your owners know you're cheating on them?" He asked rhetorically.
Houseguest dealt with, he turned back to the apartment, head cocked to the side in concentration.
Sara was going to be on crutches for a while when she left the hospital. Her apartment was nice, but the layout was not at all conducive to crutches.
X x x
"Well, we might not be entirely caught up by I think we made a fair dent in the case load tonight." Nick said proudly, slipping his jacket on. "You up for a celebratory breakfast at Franks?"
"I don't know about breakfast, but I could sure use a coffee before I drive home." Warrick agreed. "I don't know about the others."
"Cath begged off early to take Lindsey to school." The Texan replied. "And Greg was heading to Sara's apartment. I don't know where Grissom snuck off to."
"Oh well, their loss." Rick shrugged, tossing his spare clothes into a bag to take home and wash before next shift.
"Yup, just you and me hombre." Nick grinned. "Hey, do you think we should try and sneak something into the hospital? Sara's probably sick of hospital tripe by now."
"Nah, she's in physio this morning." Warrick reminded him.
"Oh yeah, it's her first session right?" Nick pursed his lips. "Maybe she'd prefer a shot of whisky then, huh?"
"More like a bottle." They shared a small chuckle at her expense, drifting into a comfortable silence as they gathered their things together.
"I can't wait until she's back." Nicky sighed at last. "It feels like she's been gone ages."
"Yeah, tell me about it." Rick hummed. "The place hasn't been the same without her."
"No." Nick cleared his throat in an attempt to cut the depressed mood that had befallen them. "Anyway, breakfast. And since I'm feeling so generous, I'll even let you pay."
"Yeah, I can see that." Warrick scoffed, following him into the hallway.
"See what?" Hodges asked, slinking between them. The boys exchanged a look.
"Breakfast." The Texan explained. "You want in?"
The lab rat stopped in the middle of the hallway, a bewildered expression settling on his face.
"You want me to come?" He asked earnestly. They shrugged awkwardly, with Nick offering a small smile.
"Hey man, I'd never refuse someone bacon." He joked, slapping the tech on the shoulder.
Hodges' surprise quickly melted into glee at being invited into the family routine and he practically skipped off the locker room.
X x x
He stepped back, hands on his hips and smiled appreciatively.
"I could be an interior designer." He commented, turning to the cat for agreement. She, having relocated to the end of Sara's bed, merely flicked her tail in response.
Still, whether the feline agreed or not, he was proud of his work. He had managed not to disrupt Sara's layout too much, but had opened up the apartment a bit to allow her easier access around the flat.
He dropped onto the couch, worn out from his exertion. It suddenly dawned on him just how long he'd been here.
Perhaps once they'd caught up on their case load he could swing it with Grissom to have a couple of nights off. That way he could stay with Sara – on the couch of course – so if she needed anything in the night she wouldn't have to get up.
On second thoughts, he realised, Sara would throw him out at the first sign of being babysat.
Still, he reminded himself with a contented smile; she was coming home.
He was getting his best friend back.
X x x
She swore she was only going to close her eyes for a second.
However, when she opened them again her daughter had materialised beside her on the couch, dressed for school and mid-way through a bowl of cereal.
"What time is it?" Catherine startled herself upright, earning her an odd look from Lindsey.
"It's half seven." The teenager assured her. "You've only been asleep twenty minutes."
"Oh, good." Cath settled back into the cushions, letting her eyes drift closed again. "How was …" the question trailed off as she forgot what she was about to ask. Lindsey rolled her eyes but let the senile moment slide, changing the subject.
"How's Sara doing?" she asked, placing her empty bowl on the coffee table. Initially she had been pissed at her mother's absence, but curiosity got the better of her and she had googled Sara's injuries. Once she realised the severity of the situation, she had calmed down enough to accept the abandonment.
"She's doing alright." For the first time in weeks, Lindsey actually saw a smile on her mom's lips. "She's going to be released soon."
Cath stretched and moved to take the bowl to the sink, but Linds stopped her.
"I'll do it." She leapt to her feet, already moving towards the kitchen. "You rest for a little while. We don't have to leave yet."
Catherine watched her daughter disappear into the kitchen, blinking in surprise.
Apparently, while she'd been so occupied in the last few weeks, her little girl had grown up.
Taking her child's advice, she settled against the cushions and closed her eyes; absently thinking to herself that once things were back to normal, her and Lindsey would have a vacation somewhere to make up for it.
Anywhere but San Francisco.
X x x
"I needed that." Gil sighed, holding out his empty tumbler for a refill. Brass chuckled softly, obliging with the request.
"I can tell." He agreed, topping up his own glass too.
As they sipped in silence, the detective scrutinised his old friend. Grissom rarely let it show when something was bothering him, but occasionally cracks would begin to show in his seamless defences. Jim knew that with enough patience he would get the truth out of him; he just needed to bide his time.
And apparently the malt was loosening his tongue a little because it wasn't long before he released a heavy sigh.
"I didn't know it could hurt this much." He admitted. "To nearly lose someone."
"Yeah, tell me about it." Jim breathed, resting his elbows on the desk. "You know – after Ellie – Sara's the closest thing I have to a daughter. And lord knows I'm probably the closest thing she ever had to a proper father." He swirled his drink contemplatively. "I still wake up in a cold sweat thinking that we lost her."
"Hmm, me too."
Brass laughed softly, earning him a quirked eyebrow from the entomologist.
"I was just thinking about when she first came to Vegas." He explained. "I remember thinking, with her and Catherine working together that there was going to be a war on."
Grissom laughed heartily, pursing his lips.
"But how wrong were we?" The detective continued with a wistful smile.
"Catherine's always cared about her; she was just too stubborn to admit it until now." Gil mused.
Their reminiscence was broken by a soft knock at the door.
"Catherine said I might find you here." Doc Robbins explained, edging further into the room. He didn't specify who he was talking to but the men decided it didn't matter.
Jim gestured for him to have a seat, producing a third glass from somewhere and pouring the coroner a drink.
Doc gladly joined Gil behind the desk and the three men clinked their glasses together.
"So, where are we on the missing case file?" Doc asked, his throat burning from the first sip. "Any leads?"
"Rocco probably had it tossed." Jim growled huskily. "We're still looking into who took it."
"It had to be an inside job." Grissom added, casting a furtive glance into the hall.
"If there's a mole in this department, the Undersheriff is determined to sniff him out." Brass chuckled. "But, as far as we're concerned this case is closed."
"And about damn time." Doc added his sentiments, downing his drink and holding out the tumbler for a top-up. "So, what were we discussing?"
"Mother bear and the cubs." Jim answered cryptically, reclining slightly in his comfy leather chair.
Al sent him a knowing grin.
"Ah - Lady Catherine."