March 2007
It was the third Saturday of the month. A day she'd been looking forward to since the third Saturday of February and January before that. Sara slid the razor up her long silky legs as she let the hot beads of shower water roll down her back. A small smile crept onto her face as she though about their plans for the night. A documentary, a bottle of wine, one of Grissom's world class home cooked meals and a night in to share just the two of them.
She tussled her wet hair with a towel and wrapped herself in one of her silk bath robes. She heard the door open and close. The familiar sound of him kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat.
Sara made her wait out to the living area to see him walking to the kitchen. A large paper grocery bag in either hand.
"Orecchiette with rapini and goat cheese." He held up a few ingratiates as he spoke.
"Sounds delicious." She made her way to him then and leaned over him to peer into the bags.
"Did you get more wine?"
"Of course." He smiled as he pulled a bottle of Malbec from the second bag. He looked down at her realizing then that she was in her bathrobe, hair wet. He leaned down to place gentle kiss on her lips.
The vibrating of his phone against the countertop interrupted him. She looked over at its display.
"It's the lab."
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You should answer it."
He nodded. Delaying the answer wasn't going to stop them from calling. But he knew very well that the minute he picked up the phone, their date would end.
"Grissom."
"Hey Gil, It's Brass. We've got a multiple homicide on the west side of town."
"I'm off tonight, Brass."
"I know." He paused, "It's five victims, Gil. All show girls, roommates."
Grissom sighed audibly, "Text me the address, I'll be there in 20."
"Will do." Brass paused, "Did I interrupt any fun plans?"
"Fun plans?" Grissom furrowed his brows.
"It's the third Saturday of the month." Brass' words on the other line made Grissom's heat stop for a moment, he could feel his mouth go dry.
"I-I'll, uh, see you at the scene." Grissom quickly shut the phone.
"You need me to help process?"
"I'll let you know when I get there. For now, enjoy your night off."
"Won't be much to enjoy without you here." She spoke honestly. Her disappointment rang through but he knew she understood. "What was Brass saying at the end?"
Grissom shook his head, "Just reminding me that he knows about us."
"What?" Sara stopped in her tracks.
"Oh, um..." Grissom fumbled a bit, realizing he'd never told her that Brass knew about their relationship. Truth be told, he continued to lie to himself, convince himself he'd made up the various scenarios that lead Grissom to realize Brass knew—but he didn't. Those scenarios were real, and Grissom's reading of Brass' intentions correct.
He watched as her face screwed in confusion, and then suddenly softened. Realization wiped over her features.
"Oh..." She spoke before he had the chance to explain, "He does know."
She quickly recalled a few questionable things Brass had said to her over the past year or so. Exchanges she never really gave a second thought until now.
Sara, "I had a boyfriend that handed me the wrong pair of underwear after a raid in college... he claimed it was his sister's." She laughed.
Brass, "Well at least your taste in men has evolved."
Brass, "DB at a singles mixer. I'd invite you but I don't think you'd find anyone suitable there."
Brass, "Is Grissom loosing sleep over the latest miniature? I Worry about him."
Sara, "How would I know."
Brass, "Grissom finally got rid of that beard, hu?"
Sara, "What? Oh, uh, I guess..."
Brass, "Night off tomorrow. Any plans?"
Sara, "Just a quiet night in on the couch."
"How did I not realize that before?"
Grissom shrugged, "I think he's known for a long time."
"How long?"
"A year... maybe longer."
Sara nodded knowingly, "Just keep playing along?"
"Probably our best bet for now."
Grissom arrived at the scene to find the seven girls bound and stabbed. He quickly realized the undertaking of the scene and called Sara in for help.
Just a half hour later Sara arrived on the scene. She pointed her flashlight around the home as walked through the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs, following bloody footprints—kit in hand. She heard the snaps of a camera and turned into the first bedroom, shining her light at Warrick.
"Hell of a way to spend your night off." Warrick looked up from his camera.
"How many bodies to you have in here?"
"Three. Grissom's down the hall. First door on your right. Just follow the blood."
She did jus that. The blood trails lead her to the bedroom Grissom currently occupied. She pointed her flashlight at him, "My date got canceled."
He looked up from his crouched position, "I'm sure he had a good excuse." He smiled somewhat sadly.
"Where do you want me?"
"Next room down the hall. There's another body there."
Sara walked into the next room. There she found another girl bound with her pants pulled down. She knelt by the bed to get a better look at the victim. Her hair was long and blond, large dark smudges surrounded her eyes where heavy makeup had been applied.
Suddenly a movement came from under the bed.
"Suspect under the bed!" She shouted as she pulled her gun.
Hearing the commotion Grissom jumped to his feet and ran toward her, "Sara!"
Sara leaned down to get a better look and quickly realized the person under the bed was not a suspect but another victim. The sixth roommate. "Victim down." She amended and she reached for the girl's hand.
She could hear the faint sound of Grissom radioing for help as she pulled the victim out from under the bed. Grissom watched from the doorway as Sara whispered calming, reassuring words to her, "Your okay. Help is on the way. Hang in there. It's going to be okay."
She held her hand tightly and put pressure on a wound. She struggled to make out what she was trying to say. And then, Sara watched as the light left the victim's eyes. "No." Sara's desperate plea escaped her lips. She then felt Grissom's hands on her shoulders, lifting her up and out of the way as paramedics rushed in.
He held her up and lead her away, down the stairs and out the front door. His arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. He turned to her, "Are you okay?" Her absent minded nod told him otherwise. He gently lifted his hand to her face and thumbed over her cheek.
"Gil." Her voice was shaky but stern as she warned him to stop.
"You have a cut." He said softly looking deep into her eyes, concerned.
"Sara." Grissom turned his head to see Brass approaching the two. He immediately dropped his hand from her cheek. "C'mon, Sara." Brass put his arm around her, "Let's get you cleaned up." He lead her to the nearby ambulance where a pair of department issued coveralls and an EMT blanket was waiting for her. Brass looked back and shot Grissom a warning look, similar to the one Sara had moments earlier.
Brass set her up in the ambulance and gave her some privacy to get changed. He took a few quick strides toward Grissom,
"I've never seen you move so quickly."
"What do you mean?"
"When you heard Sara pull her gun."
Grissom looked down at his feet.
"She'll be okay. The scratch is superficial." Brass placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Get back in there, I've got Sara."
At the end of shift that night, he walked the nearly deserted halls looking for Sara. Finally, he found her in the break room, watching the news report of the six showgirls' murders. He walked in and stood just behind her. She could feel his presence with her now, not even needing to turn around.
"I held his hand." Her voice was small and sad. She turned then to look at him before quickly looking back at the TV. His eyes squinted with concern and sympathy, "Just like I held hers." She managed through the falling tears, "I lost perspective."
Grissom brought his hand to her check and wiped away a tear. She leaned into his touch. They exchanged another look and she nodded, agreeing to his unspoken suggestion that they head home.
Gently, he placed a hand on her back and lead her out of the break room and down the hallway.
"Careful." He whispered as they carefully walked around the areas that a janitorial staff member was mopping.
She was silent the whole way home. Her silence maintained as they entered their home. Their discarded wine and other items from their 'night-in' laid strewed across the apartment.
"Gil?" She finally spoke. He quickly made his way to her.
"What is it?"
She raised her hand to his check, "I'd love to resume our date."
He smiled, "Of course, dear." He placed a loving kiss on her forehead and then her lips. Letting his linger there just a bit longer than usually.