A/N: We did return and we real-life happened! Here's the next chapter (promised weeks ago!) - forgive the delay and a new chapter soon!

One More Grissom

Chapter 9

Sara kept her nose to the window of the jetliner on its lift-off from the former McCarran—now the Harry Reid International Airport. Her stomach felt it was somewhere near her throat, not because of turbulence but because she was leaving the two people she loved most on the ground. She swallowed hard, wishing the plane would break all records for arrival so she could return as quickly.

She watched the landscape pass quickly; always stunned and surprised by the beauty around Las Vegas. The city continued to expand across the wide desert reaching to the foothills of surrounding mountains. As the airplane circled, she could see the high-rise hotels along the Strip and was reminded of the images of serfs bowing to monarchs.

The one-hour flight did pass quickly and by the time she reached the curb, a car was waiting to deliver her to their house which was a quick half-hour from the airport. Being absent from their home was nothing new; when they had decided to purchase the house, they had hired a lawn care company to take care of the small yard and everything was cut, trimmed, and pruned as usual.

Inside, the house was stuffy with stale air but opening several windows quickly brought in fresh air and the faint aroma of neighboring Mock Orange shrubs. Toys had been left on the floor; glasses stacked in the drain board waiting for the family's return. Knowing what she had to do, she quickly found a large bag and set about selecting clothes she knew they would need in Vegas.

Her son's clothing was easiest. She had purchased a few clothes for him but picked out several favorite shirts and added them to the suitcase. Finding a small toddler shirt rolled up in the bottom of a drawer that Will had worn when he was learning to walk caused her to pause, holding the shirt to her nose as she sought to find some trace of her baby. A sudden pinprick of moisture filled her eyes for a moment as she thought about the little boy he had quickly become—waving to her as she'd left him at the airport.

Turning to the shared closet, she pulled two suits and three shirts from the far reach of the corner. It took a few minutes to recall the last time she'd seen her husband in a suit; smiling, she checked the label. Both were well made, fitted and sewn by an almost forgotten tailor in Ecuador; she recalled the day with clarity as her hand ran across the lapel, the wool soft to her touch.

As she placed the folded suits in the suitcase, the memory of selecting the fabric flooded back as if it had happened last week. The careful measuring, the bolts of cloth pulled from tall racks—she laughed out loud—the hours it took to select two colors. Solid black and solid blue, she laughed again as she pulled black pants, a black shirt, and two jackets for herself from the closet. Their clothes were almost mirror images; she reached for another, bright colored jacket.

She spent several hours doing general cleaning, ordered dinner from a favorite vegetarian restaurant, and sent a message to her husband before getting in the shower. She'd be up before dawn for an early return flight.

In Vegas…

Relaxed, perfectly at home in his milieu, Jim Brass lifted the cold bottle, touching it to his cheek before taking a swallow. His basket-type chair moved gently as he shifted. A low laugh followed as he held the bottle on his thigh. "I can remember playing with toy cars and trucks—seems like for hours."

A deep chuckle came from Gil Grissom who was equally as ease; his legs stretched in front of him as he said, "Bet you didn't have a fancy box filled with sand."

The two men laughed again as they watched Will Grissom pushing a small car, making the noise of a child who has watched movies involving cars. His voice changed as he reached for another small toy, a truck with a big-tooth cartoon face.

"I can't remember playing with cars and trucks," said Grissom.

Brass took another swallow of cold beer before saying, "What did you play with? Bugs—spiders and roaches?"

"Ants," Grissom said as he chuckled.

A few moments passed as they watched the little boy play; the silence broken when the door opened and a woman joined them.

"Do either of you want another beer before I go? Beans are in the oven for the hot dogs."

"Thank you, Marta!" Jim said, raising his hand to meet his long-time housekeeper's hand. "You've done enough. We'll be fine."

Grissom added, "Thank you for everything—as you can see, Will loves the pile of sand."

Marta laughed, saying, "My boys always loved playing in a pile of dirt. I knew Will would, too." On more than one occasion, she'd made comments about keeping a little child "closed up in a hotel"—and the sand box in Jim Brass' back yard had been her solution.

Brass patted the chair next to his, saying, "Are you in a hurry?" He knew she was always in a hurry and knew her husband would be working for several more hours.

With a good-natured rumbling laugh, she leaned against the door frame and said, "Its fun to watch a little one play—I didn't enjoy mine enough—always thought I had things to do."

Grissom asked, "How many kids do you have?"

Marta held up four fingers, saying, "Four—youngest one is a freshman in college, oldest one is in law school and the middle two are working."

"And not just any college and law school—one's at Cal Tech and the law school is Northwestern." Brass tapped his forehead as he said, "Smart like their mother!"

"You've got a smart one, Dr. Grissom," said Marta, nodding at Will.

At the same time, Brass and Grissom said, "Like his mother!"

As they watched Will play, they talked about the Grissom's extended visit to Las Vegas and the tangled case of David Hodges. There were no secrets from Marta; as Jim's long-time housekeeper, she was privy to all he knew.

"Sara insisted we need needed court clothes and decided a quick trip back to San Diego would be easier than buying stuff here," Grissom said. "I can't remember the last time I wore a suit!"

Brass made an exasperated sounding groan, saying, "Hodges was never my favorite person but I never thought he could pull something like this. He could never keep a secret."

Grissom chuckled, agreeing with his friend. "We've got to find evidence—Sara and I have been going through Wix's trash for anything that might offer a clue—and we've come up with zero."

"You'll find it—he is not as smart as you and Sara." Marta said, then she asked, "How is your—what is it called? Mal de debarquement—disembarkment disease—are the meds working?"

"Yes—I've not felt dizzy in several weeks. Sleeping better has helped more than anything. Hopefully, it's gone for good."

After multiple testing to rule out other conditions, medications had suppressed the symptoms and he no longer had the sudden onset of swaying and blurred vision. And he could drive with no problems.

"And the boat?" asked Marta.

The sound Grissom made landed somewhere between a groan and a laugh. "I've got photos—not sure the Ishmael can be repaired. Termites love the wood in a boat."

Talk of termites, boats, and houses filled the next fifteen minutes, twice interrupted by Will sharing his excitement about his play and delivering a dead cicada to his father's hand.

Several times Marta made to leave; finally her departure came after she'd received numerous hugs and kisses from Will, promising to see him again. Not long after she left, as the shadows became long, the two men helped Will gather up his small toys and go inside for dinner.

As Grissom placed a hot dog on Will's plate, the little boy smiled and said, "I love hot dogs! But it's better not to tell Mommy—she will worry."

Brass nearly dropped the pot of beans he had removed from the oven as he laughed. As he sat at the table, he said, "I thought Sara was eating a little bit of meat now."

"Mostly fish," said Grissom as he placed a hot dog in a bun. "Never one of these!"

They managed to finish the entire package of hot dogs along with most of the beans and a large bag of chips before declaring they had eaten a delicious meal. While Grissom cleaned up the kitchen, Brass found Sponge Bob on the television and watched with Will who talked about each character as they appeared.

By the time the second episode of Sponge Bob was over, the little boy was sleeping, stretched between his dad and his best-grown-up friend. Grissom stroked his son's hair as he and Jim kept up a conversation that covered over twenty years.

After a pause, Brass said, "You two are great parents—and I got to ask—only one? Why'd you wait?"

Grissom shot him a side-long glance and said nothing.

A quiet chuckle came from Brass as he said, "I know it took you two a while—to figure everything out."

"We did not have any problems 'figuring things out' as you call it." Grissom's voice was barely more than a whisper as he said, "Sara was pregnant—when we were in Paris—we thought it was that easy." He rubbed a hand across his face before continuing. "One reason she came back to Vegas—we'd get things straightened out and the next time would be—the term was always 'a positive outcome'." He shrugged. "It didn't happen—she took these injections for IVF—and nothing worked."

"I didn't know—I had no idea," Jim said.

"We ended up with unexplained infertility—no one could figure out why but by then we—Sara and I—could not talk about it. I was traveling—working around the globe and one day," he took a deep breath. "One day I thought—said—she should move on. Maybe she'd have a family with someone else."

Brass chuckled again. "I've said before you had some pretty bone-headed ideas and that one is pretty much top of the list."

Grissom gave him a pained look and said, "Yeah—I managed to make both of us pretty miserable."

An agreeing grunt came from Jim.

"I was pretty much speechless the day Sara showed up—after she'd been promoted, willing to give up her life and join me." He grinned. "And one day she was pregnant—we'd been on that boat for weeks—she was throwing up for days and thought she was seasick. She wasn't—and Will was born—healthy from the start. Sara had a perfect pregnancy—everything we'd dreamed about—and for us, a one-time miracle."

For a long while, Jim looked at the sleeping child; his hand rested on Will's leg. Finally, he said, "I enjoy having him around—we forget how innocent and uncomplicated life is to a child."

Much later, Grissom settled his sleepy son into bed at the hotel. Wiggling between the sheets, a groggy Will said, "When you are not here, Mommy sleeps with me."

With a quiet laugh, Grissom said, "I'll get my pjs and be right back."

A few minutes later, he returned to hear the soft sounds of regular breathing and knew his son had fallen asleep. When he crawled into bed, Will snuggled against his chest, his cheek resting near his dad's heart, and moments later, Gil Grissom was sleeping with his arm wrapped around his child.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Thank you for your encouraging words! More to come!