Disclaimer: Property of people with a lot more money and much nicer stereos than me. I'm just borrowing the characters because no one reads original stories and fanfic's more enjoyable anyway.

Author's notes: This is the chapter where Nick Stokes gets fed through a wood chipper by the disgruntled writer ... No, I'm kidding. He's not even in this chapter.

~*~*~*~*~

Give Me A Chance

Chapter 12

~*~*~*~*~

"You should have knocked," Grissom said, opening the sliding glass door that led to the supposed patio attached to the back of his house.

"I didn't want to wake you," she replied from her seat on the cement slab, watching the sky grow lighter. "It's only six."

"I don't sleep much."


"Neither do I," she said, pulling her hair down over her face. It was already too bright for her headache.

"How long have you been out here?" he asked her slouched form.

"Since Nick drove off with your spare key while I was still outside."

He smiled. "Why were you here so early?"

"Catherine told me to go home."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know," she answered simply. "Wanted to come here instead."

He looked at her but she did not turn around.

Finally she stood. "It's going to rain," she said, frowning. She went inside and he followed her, locking the door behind them.


They stood close together without speaking for what felt like days. Finally Sara broke the silence. "Did Applications of Entomology in Forensic Science make you angry last night?" she asked taking a step back and looking at the book on the floor. He did not answer, and she continued nervously, "Surprised you need to read that."

"I don't need to," he said. "I actually consulted on it."

"Oh. Impressive."

"No, not really."


She sat down on the arm of the couch behind her. "Last night was nice," she offered quietly.

"It did feel normal," he agreed.

"Yeah."

He sighed. "I like having order in my life, Sara," he began.

"I know."

"It doesn't have to be simple, but I need to at least know what's happening."

"Okay, Grissom." She stood slowly and kissed his lips for the first time in three months. In his stunned silence that followed she said in a rush, "Then you're in luck. It is simple. I want to be with you. I want to raise our child and buy each other gifts and kiss and hold hands and watch forensics documentaries." She looked at the floor, suddenly scared of what his reaction would be. "And in a few months," she continued, "I want us to ride roller coasters together. I want to figure out what will make you happy, Gris, then I want to make that happen for you."


"Why?" he managed to ask, hoping she did not notice how much he was shaking.


"Because that's what love is." She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

"Then that's what I want to do for you, too." He gently lifted her face back up to meet his eyes.

There was a lot unspoken between them, and Sara decided it was best to leave it that way for a little while. "Want to feign normalcy again?"

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, his mind still reeling from the conversation. He wondered how she managed to switch gears so quickly.

She smiled. "I want to go look at baby stuff."

"We can do that."

"Hey. You look disappointed."

"No." He shook his head. "When do you want to leave?"

"Soon."

"I'm going to get a shower first."

"Go ahead," she said. "I'm going to raid your kitchen, if that's okay."

"Good luck," he told her before he disappeared down the hall.

She picked up his book and carried it into the kitchen where she sat it on the counter. Grissom was really willing to try, she realized. She suddenly felt guilty for a lot of what she had thought and said while visiting her parents. She knew now that no one could be the partner to her and father to their child that Grissom would be. And, to be honest, she told herself, I don't want anyone else.

~*~*~*~*~

Grissom watched Sara as she walked slightly ahead of him in between two racks of large stuffed animals. She seemed genuinely content, and he was happy to see that expression on her face.

"Come here," she said, reaching behind her for his hand and pulling him toward her. "We have to buy this."

"Which one?" he asked. All he could see was a tall wall of too-bright fabric.

She handed him a vividly colored fleece bug. "Your child has to have this," she said, smiling.

He looked at it, then nodded. "It's nice. We can buy it."

"You really don't care, do you?" she asked, looking disappointed.

He had no idea what to say to her. His cell phone rang, and he gratefully turned away to take the call. "Grissom," he said, feeling Sara's eyes burning into his back.

"Hey, it's Catherine. We got him."

"Who?"

"Your guy. Ecklie's talking to him right now...Are you there?"

"I'm here."

"Are you coming in?"

"No. I don't want to see him."

"See who?" Sara asked.

Grissom turned to face her. "They -- They found him."

Sara knew immediately who he was referring to. "Are you okay?" she asked him quietly.

"Is that Sara? Where are you two?" Catherine asked into his ear.

He shook his head in response to Sara's question and told Catherine, "We're shopping."

"Shopping?" Catherine asked suspiciously.

He noticed that his free hand was shaking. Sara wrapped her fingers softly around his wrist. "Yes, shopping."

"Are you sure you don't want to come in? They won't let you talk to him, but you can at least see him," Catherine said.

"I don't even want to see him."

"I do," Sara told him quietly.

"Why?" Catherine asked him at the same time he asked Sara.

"I don't know why I would, Catherine," he said. "Goodbye." He hung up the phone and directed his attention to Sara. "Why do you want to see him?"

"I want to see who did this to you."


"Did what?" He shook his wrist free from her hand "I'm fine, Sara. I wasn't even hurt as badly as we thought. I'll be back at work soon. It's over."

"Well, I'm glad you've managed to convince yourself that you're fine, Grissom, but I know that I'm not. I still have dreams about finding you that night. I can't stop thinking about you lying there..." She trailed off. "I'm angry. I need to know who I'm angry at. If you don't want to come, I can't make you."

"Do you want me with you?"

Always, she thought. "Yes."

He nodded and took a deep breath. "Let's go."

~*~*~*~*~

Sara stood clenching her fists, staring. Catherine, who was standing behind her, wondered idly if Sara was going to lunge at the two-way mirror.

Grissom stared in shock rather than anger. Everything that had happened in the last few weeks was because of this one person. The person just was not who he was expecting.

"How old is he?" Sara asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Eighteen," Catherine told her.

"Good. That's all we need. This guy's not getting off on a technicality."

"What do you want me to say?" Sara jumped as the young man spoke for the first time since their arrival.

"It doesn't matter what you say. We know you did it," Ecklie told him. "Things aren't going to go well for you from here."

The man laughed. "It's not like he was a cop. He didn't even die. There's not going to be any public outrage."

Sara turned to Grissom. "He doesn't care about what he did at all. He doesn't care that he almost killed you. He doesn't care about your friends or ch--"

"Sara," Grissom said quietly.

"Your 'ch'?" Catherine asked.

"Never mind," Grissom said.

Catherine laughed, realization dawning on her face. "Oh, I must have missed this. I am genuinely surprised. See, I thought it was Warrick."

"Warrick?" Grissom asked. "Why would you think that?"

"Because they were fighting," Catherine explained.

"Catherine." Sara sounded annoyed. "This is none of your business."

"Calm down, Sara," Catherine said, still amused. "I think it's great that you two are having a baby."

"Yes, congratulations," Ecklie said from the doorway. "When can we be expecting the new arrival?"

Sara just stared back at him. It was better not to say anything. He did not really want an answer, she knew, he just wanted to trap her.

"About six months," Grissom answered honestly.

Ecklie looked at the three other people in the room. His face suddenly changed. "We'll figure something out."


"What?" Sara asked, surprised.

"I'm not breaking up a family," Ecklie said simply. His eyes seemed weird, but he did not explain his sudden generosity. "Rules were made to be broken." He left with three shocked faces watching him.

"He would know," Catherine said.

"Are you ready to leave?" Grissom asked Sara.

"Yeah," she answered quietly.

The walk back to the parking lot was uncomfortable for Grissom. Everyone they passed seemed to know who he was and what had happened. It had only been four weeks since one of their own had been attacked, and they were very aware of it.

"So much for being unknown," Sara said softly once they reached the Tahoe.

He shook his head a little. "I'm sorry about what happened in the store," he told her quietly as he slid into the passenger seat.

"What?"

"About the...thing," he said, gesturing to the back seat where the bag from the toy store was sitting. "I don't know about all the little things you're supposed to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind," he said, turning his attention out the window.

"I don't know what you're worried about, Grissom."

"Remember when you told me that I looked like I wanted to dissect you instead of touch you?"


"Yeah. I'm sorry about that," she apologized sincerely.

He shook his head. "No, you were right. I'd be like that with a child, too. I don't know about how people are supposed to act."

"No," she told him, "you proved me very wrong about that. When you care about someone, you'd do anything for them."

"When have I ever shown that?" he asked, curious.

"All the time. When Warrick was in trouble. And Catherine told me about when her ex-husband showed up. You're an amazing man, Grissom. You have no idea what you're capable of, because you've never consciously tried before. You've never had to."

"I don't have to now," he pointed out.

"And that's why it means so much that you are."

"An 'A' for effort isn't good enough when a child's well-being is at stake, Sara."

"You're saying that because of all the people you've seen never make the effort at all. You're confusing the two outcomes."

"Maybe," he shrugged, turning his attention back to the scene out the window. He felt Sara take his hand at a red light, and felt for the first time that they might be okay.

~*~*~*~*~

"He wasn't what I expected," he said that night. He loved that Sara was there in one of his shirts, smelling like his shampoo.

"I know," Sara agreed from where she was lying on the other side of the bed, her wet hair falling in front of her eyes as she tried to read.

"Why are you reading that?"

"Because, you were involved in writing it."

"No, I consulted on it."

She shrugged and kept reading.

"This feels normal too," he told her.

"I know," she said again, laying the book down and moving closer to him. "I'm glad you talked me into staying," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and listening to him breathe. "This is my new diversion," she added. "You should be pleased that I've found one."

"What is?" he asked.

"You."

~*~*~*~*~

Author's notes: What kind of ending was that? Where was the profundity? You try being profound with this cold. Go ahead, try!

I can't give any timeline on chapter thirteen. Stuff going on here now that makes the stuff I said was going on around Easter seem like nothing. I might write it tomorrow to cheer myself up, might not write it for a couple weeks. We'll see.

Thanks for everything,
Amber (April 14, 2002; 10:56 p.m.)