AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to everyone who has been reading this.
It was about six o'clock in the evening, according the voice coming from the television in Grissom's room. Along with the discovery of the television controller hooked to the rail of the bed had come the discovery that the hours he worked were not depriving him of any quality entertainment.
One of the nurses who circulated through the ICU popped her head in the door and clicked her tongue. "You should be resting, Mr. Grissom. Do you need anything while you're awake?"
"I can't reach the phone," he told her. "If you could move it for me I would appreciate it."
She walked around his bed and moved the phone to the overhanging table. He offered an ignored thank-you as she walked out of the room. Nursing was a busy career and a stressful one, even for someone who loved their job. There had been times that he wished he had gone the route of many of his college classmates, and just gotten a teaching position at a university or even a high school. As much as he loved his job, as much satisfaction as he got from the idea of making some kind of difference in the world, he acknowledged the stress of his work. He did not want to burn out.
Thinking about career burnout always made his thoughts turn to Sara. Warrick had had a breakdown of another kind, and Nick and Catherine seemed pretty well put together. He knew that was not one hundred percent true, but if nothing else they could hide how they were feeling better than Sara could.
She was very passionate. She would get very upset whenever the "bad guy" got away. In another lifetime under different circumstances, he thought to himself, as the door opened.
"You have a visitor," a different nurse told him. "Should I send him in?"
"Yes," he said.
The nurse left and a moment later Conrad Ecklie entered.
Ecklie was one of the last people that Grissom wanted to have see him in the hospital. It was difficult to have anyone see him in such a exposed position. It was worse to have someone who he truly disliked. He respected the man as one of the best forensics experts in the state, if not the country, but he hated the man.
"Hello," Grissom said. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to answer questions. He just assumed that Ecklie would send one of his flunkies to do it.
"Hello. How are you feeling? We need to discuss last evening."
"Okay," Grissom offered in response to both the question and the statement.
"I suspended that girl, and I would appreciate it if you did not interfere."
"What girl?" Grissom asked, truly not knowing who Ecklie was referring to.
"Ms. Sidle."
"Come on. I'm experienced. There was no reason for her to even be there, let alone in the same room. I'm sure you've been left alone at crime scenes."
Ecklie waved his hand dismissively. "She's also a suspect." Grissom's eyes widened. "Don't worry, she hasn't been arrested. If any evidence is found linking her to the crime, or even suggesting motive, she will be taken into custody."
"Sara didn't try to kill me. I know that for a fact."
"'Sara'? How are you so sure?"
For a second Grissom wondered why the idea of using the first name of a coworker would seem so suspicious, then he realized that Ecklie probably did not bother. Last names were better for barking orders. "I know it wasn't Sara, because the attacker was a man."
"Did you see him?"
"No. But when someone is standing beside you, you can tell if it's a man or a woman." That, Grissom thought, and I know how she smells and feels now. Because she got upset that night and she wouldn't calm down. The night we couldn't prove that those two women were killing their husbands. At the end of her shift she was still angry, so I wanted to take her mind off of it. I took her out. Then I took her home. I didn't mean for anything to happen. She said, 'Thank you." But she didn't get out of the car. The next day she was mercifully practical about it. And she never really got angry about what happened. She was sad, if anything. I know I was. To take for a few hours what you wish you could have. If you weren't so scared, if she weren't so hurt. If I thought I could pull off a relationship at all. If I could tell her that I cared about her. That I was 'interested' in her, of all things. I'm surprised she wasn't angry that I acted like it didn't happen. It just didn't seem as important as what we already have. Maybe she saw that. Maybe she saw how scared I was. Maybe she was scared. "It wasn't Sara."
"You're a lousy supervisor, Gil. A good supervisor wouldn't go to bat for their staff. You should keep them from getting in trouble. And when they screw up, you should be first in line to show them the consequences."
"Do you want to ask me about what happened? Sara was outside. I was dusting for prints. I wasn't careful enough, I was concentrating too much, I didn't hear him come up behind me. I felt his hand over my mouth and--" Grissom faltered.
Ecklie sighed. "Were you followed?"
Grissom shook his head. "No. The house was out of the way. I would have noticed if there was another car on the road with us."
"Can you think of anyone with a reason to attack you?"
"Whoever was originally at the scene. That's all I can think of."
"And you really don't think there was any chance that it was Sidle? She's the other logical suspect."
"I'd believe it was you before I would believe it was Sara," Grissom said evenly.
"I'll let you know if I have any more questions."
"You could call."
Ecklie left without even wishing Grissom good health. It did not really matter. Grissom's mind was miles away and a few weeks in the past.
Sara stared through the windshield with dread.
"Thanks, Gris."
"You're welcome. Try to remember the ones you get. Not the ones that got away."
He thought he heard her laugh bitterly, but she was looking out the side window now and the engine was running. "The ones that get away are the ones who are still a threat. They're the ones who warrant thinking about."
"We did what we could."
"Maybe I didn't do everything I could," she said cryptically.
He wondered what she meant.
"I can't sleep at night anymore...I swear, I'm losing it.
"I know it can feel like that," he said quickly, "but you have to remember--"
"I'm being serious! I--I can handle my current life. It's everything else!"
"Then make it through tonight. Get some sleep. Then work through tomorrow when it comes." He was awful at calming down upset people. Especially women. With men you could usually tell them to shut up and they would calm down.
"You know who else lives their lives like that, Grissom? People who are being hurt every day. Or prisoners. Not normal people. Normal people want more than that. It's hard to live life in such a stupid fragile thing that one case can make you lose it." She angrily wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "Life is too hard sometimes. I'm going in." She pushed open her car door and got out. She was walking to the door of her building when she heard Grissom's car door slam.
"You're not going to so something stupid, Sara, are you?"
She turned around and looked at him, horrified. "When I said I wouldn't take a life, that included my own."
"I wasn't saying--"
"Yeah, actually, you must have been. I'm going in," she repeated angrily, and turned back toward the door.
"Can I come with you?" he called.
"If you feel the need to," she said without looking at him.
A minute later she was sitting on her couch with a champagne glass while he stood behind her kitchen counter watching her.
"However you feel today, you'll feel different soon, okay?" he said, still worried.
"Please stop with the psychology. If you really want to make me feel better--Never mind." She laughed, and he was relieved to hear the sound.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's stupid. I'd go as far as to say it's inappropriate."
"What?" he pressed.
"It's stupid. My neck hurts."
"You want me to rub your neck?" he asked, all cold practicality.
"Not with that look on your face."
"What look?"
"Like you'd rather dissect me than touch me." She saw the sudden hurt look on Grissom's face. The same one he had had when she told him that she wished she was like him, that she did not feel anything. Hurt was not exactly the word.
"I should leave," he said.
"No!" She jumped up and walked to where he was standing. She put her arms around him. "Thank you." She moved her hands to his hair and slowly kissed him. As soft and sweet as she could. And even as she was doing it having no idea why. Just knowing that it felt nice, and it felt right.
Her interpretation of the rest of the night was the same. No excuse for it, except that they wanted to. And that was enough for both of them right then.
"Gris?" Sara said lightly from the doorway. She did not want to wake him, but she was pretty sure he was already awake.
"Yeah." He turned his head to look at her. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a deep blue sweater. The top half of her hair was pulled back in a brown barrette, and the rest laid on her shoulders. "You look nice."
"I have no idea why I decided to wear what I'm wearing," she said, smiling, obviously pleased.
"Ecklie suspended you."
"Yeah."
"He's going to go through my house, Sara. Possibly yours."
"I know. That's protocol, victim and suspect."
"He's going to find out."
"No. I don't see how."
"He'll find out because I was stupid."
"What do you mean?"
"I keep a journal," Grissom admitted.
"You put having sex with me in your journal?"
"Yes."
She sighed and sat down beside the bed. "That doesn't make me look any less guilty."
"I could get fired for this too. With Ecklie involved."
"We should have known better." She was angry at both of them.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked.
"No. I'm an adult. I messed up. It's not your responsibility."
"I don't regret making love to you."
She ducked her head. "Please don't talk about it like that. And if you get fired or I end up in jail, you'll regret it."
"Do you?"
"Yes, but I have a reason."
"What reason?"
"I'm not discussing this with you tonight. Please, let it go, at least until you're out of the hospital."
"You're not going to tell me."
"No, I'm not. Not yet," she told him. "I didn't try to kill you," she added after a few moments of quiet. "I guess I should tell you that."
"I know."
"Okay." She nodded. "Maybe I'll tell you tomorrow. I probably should. When's Catherine due back in town?"
"Tomorrow morning. I just remembered. Could you pick her up at the airport?"
"Yeah. I want to talk to her anyway." Sara's mind was going a mile a minute.
She needed to talk to someone other than Grissom.
Then she needed to tell him too.
Things were so complicated.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," she told him, and walked out of the room.
He watched her leave. He was worried, but he knew that she meant it when she said she was not going to tell him what was going on. He watched the ceiling and waited for her to return.