A/N: A short story just in time for Valentine's Day! Set after the first season of CSI: Vegas. Sara and Gil have returned to what they love!
The Day of Love and Friendship
El Dia del Amor y la Amistad
Chapter 1
Two sea lions lounged on the boat dock; the smaller one was rolled onto his back, flippers folders across his chest. The larger one opened one eye and watched as the lone man walked along the boards toward land.
Days ago, Gil Grissom had decided that sea lions were great loungers and did not care about the two legged creatures. He chuckled as he walked passed, thinking the animals gave the impression that they would not care if mutated land sharks armed with chain saws showed up on the dock.
Along the edge of the water, protected by large chunks of black rocks, dozens of Sally Lightfoot crabs, bright orange and deep black, scurried around at the sound of his footsteps. But Gil Grissom didn't notice the crabs; he was looking up at the blue cloudless sky, giving a deep sigh of satisfaction of his day.
A few minutes later, he ducked into a large building, left a small laptop which he plugged in, quickly washed his hands and face, and was back outside within five minutes.
A path, eight feet wide, paved with hard-packed gravel and delineated with a rubble of red rocks, divided into four directions. It took a moment for him to decide which path to take knowing three of the paths circled around the area, crossing several times before joining the fourth path that lead to the exit. The one he took had no signs to indicate what was ahead but he smiled and hurried his pace.
After only a few weeks, he and Sara had adjusted to life on a remote island; a life poles apart from the six months spent in Las Vegas. His smile expanded across his face as he walked, appreciating the odd beauty of this unique place. The air was filled with squawking of birds, the scent of flowers, and a hint of salty-sea.
As he rounded a thick hedge of thorny plants, he spotted his wife sitting on one of the scattered rocks, her back to him. Surrounding her feet were dozens of small tortoises famous around the world for their great size. These were no larger than his hand; over one hundred of them, discovered six months previously in a smuggling operation.
Quickly, he halted his progress and watched for several moments as Sara picked up a tortoise, placed it on a digital scale, and recorded its weight. He smiled as he heard her soft voice crooning to the small animal on the scale.
Taking several steps in her direction, he said, "They might understand you if you spoke in Spanish."
Her laughter came first before she placed the tortoise on the ground and stood. She said, "You are back! How was your day?" Her hand brushed a lock of hair away from her face, leaving a brown smear across her forehead.
Grissom recognized, not for the first time, how slim she had become during the months they had been in Las Vegas. He said, "You look absolutely beautiful, dear—a researcher in her element!"
Laughing again, Sara waved him into the enclosure, saying, "I'm almost finished so you can give me a hand."
He knew the procedure and stepped into the area. Leaning to her, he kissed her lips once and again on her nose. "I'll weigh—you record," he said.
Each tortoise had been painted with a number and he randomly picked up one, reading the number. Sara checked the number on the handheld device.
"Try another one," she said, nodding to a cluster of tortoises behind him.
Picking up another, he read the number, Sara nodded, and he turned to the scale. The tortoise showed no fear as he placed it on the stainless surface but wiggled and slid on the slick surface. Quickly, he turned it upside down on the scale, read its weight, and placed it on the ground before looking at his wife.
Sara looked at him with wide-eyes as she said, "You turned it upside down!" Her face was one of astonishment as she said, "I've been weighing all day and it takes me twice as long—I never thought about placing it upside down!"
Grissom grinned, saying, "I'm sure they would rather have you singing to them, dear."
In a short time, they finished the work, walked back to the same building and spent time putting the equipment away. Sara disappeared into a bathroom for several minutes, returning with a clean face.
She said, "Why didn't you tell me I had dirt on my face?"
Smiling, Grissom said, "It made you look authentic—and kind of cute." She elbowed his ribs as several other people joined them, everyone talking at once, asking about Grissom's field team of college students and the collection of an invasive fly.
As they left the building, Grissom suggested, "Let's go eat ice cream. We can have a late dinner—I'll cook."
Tucking her hand around his elbow, Sara laughed, saying, "I love this part of life here—everything is a short walk. And you cook!"
Avoiding the tourist street along the water, they turned right, walking several blocks to the local market street. Along the pedestrian friendly street, the locals shopped for clothes and food, got haircuts, drank beer, and visited with friends. Before reaching the ice cream shop, three of Grissom's young team of college students met them on the street, excited about their day and their excursion into the market.
"We're going for ice cream—join us," said Sara, pointing to the bright flags above a doorway.
One of the young women asked, "Is it safe? I'm trying to be careful—I don't want to be sick."
With a sigh, Grissom said, "It's all good, Jill—I wouldn't tell you that if it wasn't true." His mouth twisted into a mischievous grin when he added, "Besides, you'll recover before we go back out tomorrow!" And immediately said, "It's good—we've been eating local food since we got here with no problems."
The small ice cream shop had a line of a dozen customers but service was fast and the group was back on the sidewalk with stacked scoops of exotic flavors of creamy, cold ice cream. As they talked about ice cream and other foods being prepared in other shops, enjoying the general atmosphere along the street, Sara's head tilted as she heard a voice above the commotion.
At the same instance, she and Grissom knew someone was calling for "Grissom". He stepped into the street as a police motorcycle slowly moved through the crowd, lifting his arm as the cyclist came closer.
The motorcycle stopped and a young woman lifted her face shield and asked in perfect English, "Dr. Grissom? And your wife is Sara?"
"Yes," both answered at the same time.
"We need your help—we—the police chief wanted to find you immediately. We need your help."
Glancing at each other, they knew the request had to involve a crime. The first week of their arrival, they had met the police chief and two officers and had discussed the general lack of crime on the island.
"Where?" asked Grissom.
The young woman answered, "Not far—over at the," she struggled for a second, "the carniceria." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "It is bad—a death."
A/N: Several chapters to come! Leave a word or comment and the next chapter arrives quickly! This is a short story- three to four chapters.