DECISIONS

-----------------------------------------------------------

Gil pulled back a chair for her.

"Thanks," she said graciously. She smiled as he poured her a glass of cold water. "You're being so attentive, tonight."

She watched him move efficiently around the kitchen, taking care of several tasks at the same time.

She was impressed.

"I could get used to this, you know," she said, "If your cooking is any good, I could offer you an extravagant salary and tempt you into staying as my very own Jeeves."

"You could never afford me," Gil muttered.

She ignored the interruption.

"You would be my butler, but that would be only a cover," she said dreamily, "In reality, we would be investigators, and we'd travel around the world, solving the most intricate crimes -"

Grissom gave her a look of disapproval.

"You've been reading your old detective books, haven't you?"

"Guilty as charged," she laughed. She leant forward on the table, "Seriously, though," she added, "You seem like a nurturing kind of guy, Gil."

"Well, you paid for the cooking class," he shrugged, "The least I can do is cook you a meal."

"It's not just that," she said thoughtfully, "I really believe you like taking care of others."

Grissom didn't reply. He had an immediate task and he focused on it. In a few minutes, he tossed a salad, sliced the bread, and carved the roast.

He doled out the food in two plates and brought them to the table.

Janice looked down at her plate. Gil had heaped everything together -the meat, the salad, the sauce, and a couple of slices of bread. She smiled to herself; Gil needed a course on food presentation.

"Dig in," he instructed.

The food was good, and they ate in companionable silence for a while.

Halfway through, Gil rose to check on a pie that was warming up in the oven. When he sat again, he spoke.

"The first time I saw a therapist, I was still at the hospital." he said.

She looked up in surprise. She'd assumed she'd have to pull that story from Gil, and there he was, voluntarily telling her about it.

"Remember my ulcer, and how it was related to the pressure I was putting myself under?" he asked, "The doctors thought I needed help, so they got me a Psychologist; an intern, actually." He paused, "Dr. Donna Andrews."

"You still remember her?"

"I do. She was young and looked like a flower-child," he smiled at the memory, "She would say, 'Jesus Loves You' at the start and at the end of each session -"

"Oh, no," Janice was appalled, "They sent you a religious freak?"

"Well..." he hesitated, "She was not a fanatic, if that's what you mean."

She was skeptical.

"I bet she would look at you with bright, glassy eyes and smile vacantly at everything you said -"

Gil smiled faintly.

"She did," he admitted, "But you know what? She was exactly what I needed. She didn't believe in analysis and I was not ready to dig deeply into my psyche, either. She offered instant solutions."

"Through prayer?" she scoffed.

"She helped." He shrugged. "Look. What I needed at the time was someone to love me," he said, "After listening to her, I thought, 'If Jesus loves me, then things can't be that bad.'"

She didn't know how to reply to that.

"Anyway… She got me talking, which was a major achievement at the time," he admitted. "I was more honest than I had ever been -too honest, maybe."

"What do you mean?"

"She was a Catholic," he said, "At one point, she asked me if there was someone I might be interested in -romantically, that is- and I said yes. She was glad for me." he smiled, "But when she asked, 'who is she?' I just went ahead and told her it wasn't a girl but a man -"

"Uh, oh. What did she say?"

"Nothing, at first," he said, "Her dreamy smile froze on her face; then she tried to say something but couldn't…" he glanced at Janice, "I guess she was torn between her religious beliefs and her duty as a therapist."

"So, what happened?"

"The therapist in her won. She didn't judge me; she didn't tell me I was going to hell for being gay; instead, she said, 'Good!' in a very fake tone. Then she gave me a pep talk; told me that I needed to do something about John. She encouraged me to approach him."

"And you did," Janice said admiringly, "God, her pep talks must have been good."

"They were." He said, and for a moment he seemed lost in thoughts.

Janice kept her gaze on him but didn't press him to continue. She knew that mentioning John's name usually put an end to their conversations.

Gil suddenly realized that she was still looking at him.

"Your food's getting cold," he said softly.

She got the message, and turned her attention back to dinner.

Gil didn't eat anymore. He was simply pushing the food around the plate with his fork. Unbeknownst to Janice, he was quietly gathering the courage to say something.

"You know," he said after a moment, "I was thinking of John, today. Must be the rain." he added, almost to himself, "I've been thinking how difficult it must have been for him. Being with me, I mean."

"That's what you always say," she muttered.

"I'm serious." He said, "Janice, John never meant to get involved with anyone. He'd gone to college to study and start a career, and that was it. He had sex now and then, but he wasn't looking for a commitment. And suddenly, there I was, asking him out -"

"You asked him out?" she smiled, "That took a lot of courage. What did he say?"

Grissom put down his fork.

"Janice, I'd just come out of the hospital; I was pale and emaciated and I probably looked like I'd jump off a building if he said 'no.' What do you think he said?"

"That's what I'm asking you."

"He said yes," Gil said simply.

But it hadn't been as simple as that.

John had been shocked at Gil's approach. It was understandable; in the first place, John had always been very discreet about his sexual preferences and he didn't expect any of his classmates to know. Secondly, one just didn't go around asking guys out –it could be dangerous.

But he must have decided that Grissom was a harmless kid, because he'd ended up smiling and telling Gil about a movie he wanted to see.

On hindsight, it was easy to see that John's smile had been just as fake as Dr. Andrews'…

But Gil didn't tell any of this to Janice.

"He smiled," Gil said instead, "And then he said we could go to the movies…" he paused, "With his friends from the chess club."

"Oh." She scoffed, "The snobs."

"Yeah," Gil smiled.

"One hell of a date." she scowled.

Gil resented that comment. After all, John never went out on dates. He was content with having sex with strangers in private parties that some students organized once a month. He did not believe in relationships, but he'd made an exception for Gil.

And in the end, he'd provided Gil with the closest thing to a relationship the younger man had ever had. And he'd made each moment memorable: First kiss, first sexual encounter, first meal…

Grissom had spent years trying to obliterate these and other memories, but now he realized he should have cherished them.

"He cared about me." Gil said quietly, "I just didn't appreciate it at the time -or after."

"But you were good to him too, Gil." She replied, "I mean, you softened him up. He was smart guy but he had no patience with people. Once you came along, he took the time to be with the rest of us mortals."

Gil smiled. It was one way of looking at it.

He was silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat.

"There's something I want you to know," he said, "About John."

She put her fork down.

"Ok," she said slowly.

"You've always blamed him for what happened. I guess it's my fault for not telling you the entire story," he added, "But the truth is, he asked me not to go away. He wanted me to stay as a friend and a coworker -"

"But that was like a slap in the face, Gil," she protested, "Come on, he couldn't expect you to be content with friendship."

"Well, actually, he could. He always talked about how much his career mattered to him, and how involved he expected to be in it. He was always saying that he would not have time for anything else –or anyone, for that matter. I just never listened."

Gil took a deep breath, "He was surprised when I wouldn't take the friendship. He was hurt, actually."

He was going to say more, but before he could, the oven timer sprang to life.

He rose. Janice looked thoughtfully at him.

"You know…" she said, "Right after you left, me and the guys made a bet about how long you'd be able to stay away. We couldn't believe you could leave him that easily."

Gil glanced at her.

"I've always found it easy to leave," he said.

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said," he replied as he opened the oven door. "For instance, I've worked in several cities in my lifetime, and I've always been able to leave without making a fuss, and without saying goodbye." He lifted the pie, "No cake in the break room for me," he said pointedly.

Gil brought the pie and set it on the table. He handed her a fork and then took one for himself. They would share dessert, just like they used to do when they were in college.

He took a few bites and then he spoke again.

"My second shrink helped me understand why I did that."

She gaped at him. She couldn't believe he was telling her all this.

"Your second -"

"Yes," he said. He smiled sheepishly, "I needed help, Janice. Those first years after I left Chicago were tough. I was drinking, I was sleeping around –in short, I was indulging in self-destructive behavior."

"Were you?" she asked in surprise, "You never said anything -"

"It wasn't something I wanted others to know," he said softly. "It wasn't so bad at first, actually. But when it started affecting my work, I realized I needed help. So, I found myself a shrink. Dr. Anna Goldstein," he glanced at her, "She did believe in analysis, so… She helped me uncover all sorts of things."

"…And?"

"…and we ended up blaming it all on my mother, of course," he said cynically.

She shook her head,

"I don't believe that," she said quietly, "You've always taken the blame for everything. That shrink certainly didn't help you with that."

He shrugged.

"Well, it wasn't her fault. I moved before I finished the treatment.

Grissom had been talking in a very casual tone, but he grew serious as he explained, "I only stayed long enough to understand why I was falling apart."

"And why was that?"

"Well…. It seems that drinking helped me put some distance between me and myself," he smiled at the absurdity of those words. "I couldn't take being home with my thoughts as sole company," he explained, "They were just too depressing. Drinking helped me ignore the thoughts." He smiled faintly as he added, "I was a happy drunk, Janice. But the happiness wore off too fast."

"I know what that's like," she muttered. "So, what did you do?"

"We talked… She helped me understand why I was doing what I was doing… She made me look hard into the past…"

"What did you find out?" she asked softly.

"Oh…. We barely skimmed the surface," he said evasively. "Bottom line was, I had trouble establishing long-lasting emotional attachments. I know," he added quickly, "It sounds obvious now. But I had to find that out by myself, and it took me months."

"I knew all about me and my family, but I didn't quite understand how the events of my life affected me. My mom suffered from depression –which meant she couldn't take care of me- and my father focused his attention on her –which only reinforced what I perceived as their abandonment of me."

Gil shook his head as if those feelings baffled him now. "It didn't help that my grandmother, who took care of me for a while died suddenly, or that we were constantly moving. In time, I learned not do get too attached to any place or any person -"

He glanced at her and by the concerned look on her face, he realized he'd probably said more than he should have.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. It's ok," he said soothingly. "It's old history." He added dismissively. "It took me months to put everything in perspective, but I finally did. Oh, and by the way," he added, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "I spent thousand of dollars in those sessions."

She smiled faintly.

"You know, I'm really surprised by all this." she said, "I always had the impression that you didn't trust psychiatrists."

"Actually, I don't." he admitted. "They end up having too much power over an individual."

"Is that why you didn't finish your treatment?"

"I suppose." He shrugged. "I just wanted to be able to do my job, Janice. By then, I'd decided that my personal life should take a step back."

"Just like Johnnie." She said pointedly. She shook her head, "You used to want more, Gil. You wanted a relationship, remember?"

"What I wanted was someone to take care of me."

"Well, that's what relationships are all about," she replied, "You wanted this. You even approached John, for God's sakes -"

"I still can't believe I did that," he smiled ruefully.

"But you did. Surely, that means something."

"Maybe. But in the end, I simply turned my back on him and left." He was silent for a moment. "You know… If I could go back in time, I'd take John's friendship."

She looked curiously at him.

"Do you think he would have changed his mind, if you had stayed around?"

Gil smiled.

"No. He wouldn't have. But at least he wouldn't have been alone."

She stared at him.

"Oh, no." she said slowly, "You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?" she asked, "You don't think you would have kept him from shooting himself -"

"I don't know." he said simply.

"Well, of course, you don't know. And if you had stayed with him, he would have ended up talking you into doing the same."

He stared at her.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked calmly.

She sighed.

"Ah, shit, I don't know. Just forget I said that, ok?" she frowned, "Can you tell me why we always end up having these gloomy conversations, you and me?"

He smiled.

"It's my fault," he said, "Listen. There's only one reason why I decided to tell you all this, tonight. I need you to do something for me."

"Oh, jeeze," she muttered apprehensively. "What is it?"

"I need you to reevaluate your attitude towards John."

She was mystified.

"I don't understand."

"I just want you to remember this," he said and then he reached for her hand. "Whatever he did or didn't do… He didn't do it to you."

"So?"

"So, it's time for you to get over it," he said gently, "You used to admire him. I wish you still did. He deserves it."

She looked thoughtfully at Gil.

"You want me to think well of him." she said.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do." he said gently, "And because it would be good for his soul."

She hesitated.

"I don't know -"

He looked closely at her. "Please?" he said.

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, all right," she muttered. "Just don't give me that hungry-puppy dog look, ok?"

"Hungry-puppy dog look?" he frowned.

"Don't play innocent with me." She glared, "You can be very manipulative when you want something. That look of yours would melt even the most hardened heart. I wonder what Greg does when he sees it."

She was giving him an opening but he refused to take it.

"How are you two doing, Gil?"

"We're doing fine."

"Good," she said quietly, "No, strike that," she added more animatedly, "It's not 'good'; I think it's great. I mean, after tonight's conversation, all I can say is that I am surprised –and glad- that you didn't put any distance between you and Greg.

"Well… I'm just too old to start anew somewhere else." he shrugged. "Besides, it's not the same situation, Jan. I learned my lesson. I've always known that whatever Greg and me have, can end at any moment; I don't have any expectations -but I'm grateful at what I have."

"Well… that's ok, I guess. But you could have more if you wanted – I mean, you and Greg… If you tried…"

"Janice?" he interrupted, "Why do you leave alone?"

"What does that have anything to do with -"

"Just answer the question." he said gently.

"Hey, don't turn this on me."

"Please?" he asked, purposefully using his hungry-puppy dog look.

She glared, but in the end she replied in a flat tone, "Because after a full day at work, the least I need is have somebody here, making demands on me or even talking to me." she said flatly.

"Exactly." he said. Then he smiled, "Which means you would hate having me here as your very own Jeeves."

She sighed.

"Point taken." she said tiredly. "We're workaholics who can't deal with relationships."

"We're just not good at romance," he shrugged.

"Hey, I'd be good at romance if I had a beautiful man like Greg in my bed!"

"You're right," he said gently, "and that's why I've decided to do anything I can to preserve this relationship."

"Really, Gil?"

"As long as he wants me around… Sure."

"I guess coming from you, that's as good as it gets."

"It is."

They looked down at the pie. They'd been poking at it without any enthusiasm. The times when they could eat everything on the table and not suffer the consequences were long gone.

"So," he said after a moment, "What are your plans for tomorrow? Do you have an early shift?"

She was grateful that he'd found something different to talk about.

"I traded. I'll work nights the rest of the week so I can spend the day with you. Tomorrow, we'll rent a couple of bicycles and take a look around. Then we'll take an origami class -"

Gil paused.

"Origami?" he asked.

"Uh, huh. Why?" she asked mischievously, "Does paper-folding sound too feminine to you?"

"No." he said. "Greg's an expert." he added, and proceeded to tell Janice all about Greg's pastime.

-----------------------------------------------------

TBC

Coming up soon – a slash version of Butterflied and the last two or three chapters of this story.