X - DIALOGUES
"I've been walking these streets so long,
singing the same old song -
I know every crack on these dirty sidewalks of Broadway.
Where hustles the name of the game
And nice guys get washed away
Like the snow and the rain.
There's been a load of compromising
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shining on me -
Like a rhinestone cowboy -
Riding out on my horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Like a rhinestone cowboy -
Getting cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers coming over the phone."
Nick did not know Sara was back. If he had, he would have stopped singing at the top of his lungs while sorting his laundry. But he didn't know Grissom had dropped her off, and he continued singing much to Sara's amusement. She had heard him immediately upon entering his house; grinning when she heard his deep voice as she walked down his hallway and into his living room. The loud singing explained why he hadn't heard her knock. Leaning in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed and shoulder pressed against the frame, she watched him and waited for him to spot her.
"Well, I really don't mind the rain
And a smile can hide all the pain
But you're down when you're ridin' the train that's takin' the long way.
And I dream of the things I'll do
With a subway token
and a dollar tucked inside my shoe.
There'll be a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me
Like a rhinestone cowboy -
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Rhinestone cowboy-"
Nick was folding his boxer-briefs when he finally turned and spotted Sara in the doorway, watching him. He grinned at her cheekily even as he felt his ears turn bright red, and pushed his underwear underneath a neatly folded t-shirt.
"Hey, Sara. Didn't hear you come in," he tried for casualness, but must have failed miserably when Sara started laughing.
"I knocked, Glen," she teased. "I guess the sound of your own voiced drowned it out."
Nick shrugged, "It was playing on the radio when drove home. Couldn't help it - and besides which, what's wrong with a little Glen Campbell?"
Sara sauntered over to him and grabbed a pair of jeans, folding clothes beside him companionably. She was humming under her breath, and smirked at Nick when he snorted at her.
"See, he's contagious. I recognize Galveston when I hear it. I'll turn you into a country music junkie yet."
Sara balled up a t-shirt and threw it at him, "In your dreams."
Nick just grinned at her, "You ever been to Galveston, Sara?" He didn't wait for her to respond, just kept on talking. "When I was a kid, my siblings and I would go there every summer to stay with my dad's sister for a few weeks. The water in the Gulf of Mexico was so blue, and so warm - we would spend the entire day swimming. My Aunt Lydia lived in big old house with a huge wrap-around veranda. On really hot days, we would campout on army cots and gaze at the stars." His voice sounded slightly wistful, "I haven't been back there since I was nine. I don't know if Aunt Lydia even lives there anymore."
He continued folding his clothes. "I can still remember how good the chocolate ice cream we used to buy at Hurricane's Ice Cream Parlor tasted after a day spent swimming in the Gulf." He shook his head suddenly, trying to clear the memories from his mind, smiling self-depreciatingly, "I suppose you can't stay innocent like that forever."
They finished folding Nick's laundry, stacking it neatly in the empty bin, looking at his watch before he turned to her, "I don't suppose Grissom fed you before he dropped you off?"
Sara shook her head, "What do you think?"
"Right. I picked up a couple of subs on my way home this morning on the off chance you'd stay for lunch. Hungry?"
Sara grinned at him, "Yeah. So, we talked to Marta," she trailed Nick into his kitchen and grabbed a couple of mugs from his cupboard, pouring them both a coffee from the percolator he had going 24/7 as he grabbed the subs out of the fridge. "She's a piece of work."
"Really? Why?"
"How did Brass put it - 'Phonier than a three-dollar bill from the planet Neptune?' - that sums it up. She said all the right things, but her eyes told a different story."
"No tears?"
"No tears."
"What did Grissom think?"
"You know Grissom," Sara shrugged, "when Jim and I suggested she might be misrepresenting herself, he was surprised. Normally, he's a good judge of people - but this time? I think she had him snowed."
Nick cocked an eyebrow at her, "Attractive, was she?"
"If you like your women tight and wrinkle-free, I suppose so," her response was dry, and Nick snorted.
"I take it there's been some plastic surgery?"
"Some? That would be downplaying it."
They ate silently for a few minutes after that, before Nick looked at her again, "Something else bothering you, Sara?"
"No. Do I look bothered?"
"You always get a little tense around the eyes when your upset about something - and don't try to deny it. After two years, I know the signs. Care to share?" When Sara didn't respond, Nick sighed, "Is it this older man / younger woman thing? You're thinking of you and Grissom, aren't you?"
Sara gaped at him, struggling to regain her equilibrium, "There is no me and Grissom."
"Not because you don't want there to be." Nick's tone was serious, and he smiled gently at her sudden flush, "Don't worry - I doubt anyone else knows. Except maybe Catherine - she's pretty sharp, and she's known Grissom forever."
"But - I - he - what are you going on about?" Sara sputtered.
"Sara - you've been crushing on Grissom since you got here. There's a certain air about you when he's around that isn't there when he's not. You watch him when you don't think anyone will notice. You even stopped seeing Hank after Grissom called you in on your day off - that time you were in Pahrump - and then made you work solo. And if you think you can fool me by denying it, think again."
He watched as Sara blinked, before looking intently at what was left of her sub. "This is so embarrassing," she muttered. "I didn't think I was being that obvious."
"You're not being obvious, Sara," Nick replied gently. "I just recognize the signs because I've been there myself. It's hard," he sighed, "and I imagine harder when the person is someone like Grissom. He's so emotionally reserved - I bet you scare the hell out of him."
Sara snorted at that, "Why would I scare him?"
"Because you make him feel. You make him want things he's never really thought he wanted before. Grissom's not a regular guy, Sara. I don't know if he's ever been in love before or what, but I would guess not. I don't think he's ever met anyone before he would trust enough to fall in love with."
Sara was listening to him intently, frowning, "So, what you're telling me is he's emotionally unavailable?"
Nick shook his head, "No. What I'm telling you is you scare him. That's a good thing - it means he feels something for you over and above friendship. Guys don't get scared of women unless they have the power to hurt them - and you have the power to hurt Grissom. He'll deny it of course. He'll deny it until the cows come home, but it's there. I think he's in love with you too."
"Really?" When Nick nodded, Sara sighed, "So - what do I do? How do I get this to progress?"
"You have to shake him up a little bit," Nick responded. "He didn't like it when he thought you were seeing Hank. He was jealous, and he took it out on you by making you work solo. Frankly, I would love to work solo - but you don't, and he knows it. SO, shake him up again - make him think he's gonna lose his chance with you if he doesn't act soon."
"And how am I going to do that?" Sara muttered, even as her eyes gleamed with speculation.
"Pretend you're dating me."
* * * * *
Grissom wandered aimlessly through his town house, staring at his butterflies blankly as he tried to get his emotions under control. He was not a man given to outward displays such as he was currently experiencing, and he honestly didn't understand what had come over him. The last time he had cried had been at his mother's funeral, several years before, and even then it had been only a slight moistening of the eyes and a few arrant tears escaping them.
Sighing angrily he walked over to his stereo and hit play, before dropping himself into his sofa and looking at his watch. It was only 2:00 - two hours before he was meeting everyone back at the office. He supposed he could catch an hour nap, but the thought held no appeal.
Instead, he found himself sitting there, remembering the abject sorrow in Willem van der Brucke's eyes when as he came to grip with his young wife's murder. His lips quirked slightly as he allowed himself to wonder how a man van der Brucke's age had the courage to allow himself to love a woman so much younger than him. Of course, he had told Grissom that Audra had been the one who pursued him; that he had fought it for two years before realizing he couldn't fight it anymore, but still. Grissom could think of nothing more terrifying than giving your heart over to someone who had the power to destroy you emotionally.
He enjoyed the concept of love - it wasn't that difficult to comprehend in an objective way. He understood the concept; but not the application. The poets and the classic writers made it sound so wonderful and easy, like loving someone was the most natural thing in the world. But Grissom knew they lied. Loving someone was the hardest thing in the world. Just thinking about it made his heart pound.
When he had been a younger man, less tentative in his dealings with people, he had believed that one day he would find that perfect someone everyone always said existed. But as the years had dragged on, Grissom had become more cynical. He saw so many crimes of passion, so many ways that love could hurt people, he began to close himself off from it. Grissom did not enjoy being hurt. In his mind, it was better to cut himself off from emotion then give in to it. There was that old saying 'Better to have loved and lost; then to have never loved at all.' In his case, the exact opposite was true. Grissom knew if he ever loved and lost, that would be the end of him. Especially if he allowed himself to love Sara.
There had always been something about Sara - from the first time they had met at a series of lectures he had given in San Fransico, when she was just a young CSI Level I - that had drawn him to her. Part of it was her razor sharp mind; her intense curiosity and lightening quick thought synapses that had her formulating theories before most people even had time to absorb a crime scene. Part of it had been her eyes. When he was with Sara, the world seemed brighter. Everything seemed sharper, more focused. For a long time, he had been able to convince himself he enjoyed her so much because they were alike in their passion for the jobs. But that had been a lie.
Looking back on things, his calling her to Las Vegas should have been the first clue. If he had listened to the voice of reason screaming in the back of his head not to call her, he wouldn't be sitting in his living room so miserable now. But he had gone on instinct in that case - something he rarely did. He had been faced with a dilemma, and his first instinct had been to reach out to her.
She had touched him once. Her thumb and palm had caressed his cheek gently, the feel of her skin against his sending a frisson of need and desire so potent he had to close his eyes against her for fear she would see and be disgusted. She had only been wiping chalk, for goodness sake - but that one small touch had opened the floodgates. He had started dreaming of her at night, and it had scared him. So he had pushed her away - stopped working cases with her altogether to avoid embarrassing himself any more than he was already embarrassed by the sudden turn of his thoughts and surge of emotions he felt whenever she was near.
And then she had threatened to leave. He had panicked, and Catherine had talked him through it - acknowledging in her own unique way that she knew Grissom had feelings for Sara, and that she supported those feelings. Grissom had taken Catherine's advice - sort of - and Sara had stayed.
Bit by bit, he had opened himself more and more to her every day. Showing her pieces of him no-one else had ever seen. The poet had escaped him during their talk of beauty at the ice rink; their discussion of symmetry had led to a long look she had held. Grissom had thought maybe he would find the courage he needed to tell her how he felt - to acknowledge the power she had to hurt him. But he had waited too long - and Hank arrived at the scene and seized the day. All 6 foot plus, muscled, younger and better looking man than Grissom had ever been. Someone imminently more suited to Sara than Grissom was, and Grissom had stepped back.
Just doing that had almost killed him - acknowledging that Sara had moved on before he ever had a chance to tell her how he felt had hurt beyond belief. He could only imagine how much worse it would have been if they had been in a relationship, and she left him.
But today - his discussion with Willem, that conversation in the car; the song. Who wants to live forever? Grissom did, if it meant loving Sara and Sara loving him. Sara had talked to him of courage. He wondered if he could find his again, and tell her she was right. It would be much better to leave the world knowing you'd loved someone who loved you back. He just hoped he wasn't too late.
_____________
Author's Note: next chapter, more Warrick and Catherine, more case - and Nick sets his plan in motion. Song is 'Rhinestone Cowboy' by Glen Campbell.
"I've been walking these streets so long,
singing the same old song -
I know every crack on these dirty sidewalks of Broadway.
Where hustles the name of the game
And nice guys get washed away
Like the snow and the rain.
There's been a load of compromising
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shining on me -
Like a rhinestone cowboy -
Riding out on my horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Like a rhinestone cowboy -
Getting cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers coming over the phone."
Nick did not know Sara was back. If he had, he would have stopped singing at the top of his lungs while sorting his laundry. But he didn't know Grissom had dropped her off, and he continued singing much to Sara's amusement. She had heard him immediately upon entering his house; grinning when she heard his deep voice as she walked down his hallway and into his living room. The loud singing explained why he hadn't heard her knock. Leaning in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed and shoulder pressed against the frame, she watched him and waited for him to spot her.
"Well, I really don't mind the rain
And a smile can hide all the pain
But you're down when you're ridin' the train that's takin' the long way.
And I dream of the things I'll do
With a subway token
and a dollar tucked inside my shoe.
There'll be a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me
Like a rhinestone cowboy -
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Rhinestone cowboy-"
Nick was folding his boxer-briefs when he finally turned and spotted Sara in the doorway, watching him. He grinned at her cheekily even as he felt his ears turn bright red, and pushed his underwear underneath a neatly folded t-shirt.
"Hey, Sara. Didn't hear you come in," he tried for casualness, but must have failed miserably when Sara started laughing.
"I knocked, Glen," she teased. "I guess the sound of your own voiced drowned it out."
Nick shrugged, "It was playing on the radio when drove home. Couldn't help it - and besides which, what's wrong with a little Glen Campbell?"
Sara sauntered over to him and grabbed a pair of jeans, folding clothes beside him companionably. She was humming under her breath, and smirked at Nick when he snorted at her.
"See, he's contagious. I recognize Galveston when I hear it. I'll turn you into a country music junkie yet."
Sara balled up a t-shirt and threw it at him, "In your dreams."
Nick just grinned at her, "You ever been to Galveston, Sara?" He didn't wait for her to respond, just kept on talking. "When I was a kid, my siblings and I would go there every summer to stay with my dad's sister for a few weeks. The water in the Gulf of Mexico was so blue, and so warm - we would spend the entire day swimming. My Aunt Lydia lived in big old house with a huge wrap-around veranda. On really hot days, we would campout on army cots and gaze at the stars." His voice sounded slightly wistful, "I haven't been back there since I was nine. I don't know if Aunt Lydia even lives there anymore."
He continued folding his clothes. "I can still remember how good the chocolate ice cream we used to buy at Hurricane's Ice Cream Parlor tasted after a day spent swimming in the Gulf." He shook his head suddenly, trying to clear the memories from his mind, smiling self-depreciatingly, "I suppose you can't stay innocent like that forever."
They finished folding Nick's laundry, stacking it neatly in the empty bin, looking at his watch before he turned to her, "I don't suppose Grissom fed you before he dropped you off?"
Sara shook her head, "What do you think?"
"Right. I picked up a couple of subs on my way home this morning on the off chance you'd stay for lunch. Hungry?"
Sara grinned at him, "Yeah. So, we talked to Marta," she trailed Nick into his kitchen and grabbed a couple of mugs from his cupboard, pouring them both a coffee from the percolator he had going 24/7 as he grabbed the subs out of the fridge. "She's a piece of work."
"Really? Why?"
"How did Brass put it - 'Phonier than a three-dollar bill from the planet Neptune?' - that sums it up. She said all the right things, but her eyes told a different story."
"No tears?"
"No tears."
"What did Grissom think?"
"You know Grissom," Sara shrugged, "when Jim and I suggested she might be misrepresenting herself, he was surprised. Normally, he's a good judge of people - but this time? I think she had him snowed."
Nick cocked an eyebrow at her, "Attractive, was she?"
"If you like your women tight and wrinkle-free, I suppose so," her response was dry, and Nick snorted.
"I take it there's been some plastic surgery?"
"Some? That would be downplaying it."
They ate silently for a few minutes after that, before Nick looked at her again, "Something else bothering you, Sara?"
"No. Do I look bothered?"
"You always get a little tense around the eyes when your upset about something - and don't try to deny it. After two years, I know the signs. Care to share?" When Sara didn't respond, Nick sighed, "Is it this older man / younger woman thing? You're thinking of you and Grissom, aren't you?"
Sara gaped at him, struggling to regain her equilibrium, "There is no me and Grissom."
"Not because you don't want there to be." Nick's tone was serious, and he smiled gently at her sudden flush, "Don't worry - I doubt anyone else knows. Except maybe Catherine - she's pretty sharp, and she's known Grissom forever."
"But - I - he - what are you going on about?" Sara sputtered.
"Sara - you've been crushing on Grissom since you got here. There's a certain air about you when he's around that isn't there when he's not. You watch him when you don't think anyone will notice. You even stopped seeing Hank after Grissom called you in on your day off - that time you were in Pahrump - and then made you work solo. And if you think you can fool me by denying it, think again."
He watched as Sara blinked, before looking intently at what was left of her sub. "This is so embarrassing," she muttered. "I didn't think I was being that obvious."
"You're not being obvious, Sara," Nick replied gently. "I just recognize the signs because I've been there myself. It's hard," he sighed, "and I imagine harder when the person is someone like Grissom. He's so emotionally reserved - I bet you scare the hell out of him."
Sara snorted at that, "Why would I scare him?"
"Because you make him feel. You make him want things he's never really thought he wanted before. Grissom's not a regular guy, Sara. I don't know if he's ever been in love before or what, but I would guess not. I don't think he's ever met anyone before he would trust enough to fall in love with."
Sara was listening to him intently, frowning, "So, what you're telling me is he's emotionally unavailable?"
Nick shook his head, "No. What I'm telling you is you scare him. That's a good thing - it means he feels something for you over and above friendship. Guys don't get scared of women unless they have the power to hurt them - and you have the power to hurt Grissom. He'll deny it of course. He'll deny it until the cows come home, but it's there. I think he's in love with you too."
"Really?" When Nick nodded, Sara sighed, "So - what do I do? How do I get this to progress?"
"You have to shake him up a little bit," Nick responded. "He didn't like it when he thought you were seeing Hank. He was jealous, and he took it out on you by making you work solo. Frankly, I would love to work solo - but you don't, and he knows it. SO, shake him up again - make him think he's gonna lose his chance with you if he doesn't act soon."
"And how am I going to do that?" Sara muttered, even as her eyes gleamed with speculation.
"Pretend you're dating me."
* * * * *
Grissom wandered aimlessly through his town house, staring at his butterflies blankly as he tried to get his emotions under control. He was not a man given to outward displays such as he was currently experiencing, and he honestly didn't understand what had come over him. The last time he had cried had been at his mother's funeral, several years before, and even then it had been only a slight moistening of the eyes and a few arrant tears escaping them.
Sighing angrily he walked over to his stereo and hit play, before dropping himself into his sofa and looking at his watch. It was only 2:00 - two hours before he was meeting everyone back at the office. He supposed he could catch an hour nap, but the thought held no appeal.
Instead, he found himself sitting there, remembering the abject sorrow in Willem van der Brucke's eyes when as he came to grip with his young wife's murder. His lips quirked slightly as he allowed himself to wonder how a man van der Brucke's age had the courage to allow himself to love a woman so much younger than him. Of course, he had told Grissom that Audra had been the one who pursued him; that he had fought it for two years before realizing he couldn't fight it anymore, but still. Grissom could think of nothing more terrifying than giving your heart over to someone who had the power to destroy you emotionally.
He enjoyed the concept of love - it wasn't that difficult to comprehend in an objective way. He understood the concept; but not the application. The poets and the classic writers made it sound so wonderful and easy, like loving someone was the most natural thing in the world. But Grissom knew they lied. Loving someone was the hardest thing in the world. Just thinking about it made his heart pound.
When he had been a younger man, less tentative in his dealings with people, he had believed that one day he would find that perfect someone everyone always said existed. But as the years had dragged on, Grissom had become more cynical. He saw so many crimes of passion, so many ways that love could hurt people, he began to close himself off from it. Grissom did not enjoy being hurt. In his mind, it was better to cut himself off from emotion then give in to it. There was that old saying 'Better to have loved and lost; then to have never loved at all.' In his case, the exact opposite was true. Grissom knew if he ever loved and lost, that would be the end of him. Especially if he allowed himself to love Sara.
There had always been something about Sara - from the first time they had met at a series of lectures he had given in San Fransico, when she was just a young CSI Level I - that had drawn him to her. Part of it was her razor sharp mind; her intense curiosity and lightening quick thought synapses that had her formulating theories before most people even had time to absorb a crime scene. Part of it had been her eyes. When he was with Sara, the world seemed brighter. Everything seemed sharper, more focused. For a long time, he had been able to convince himself he enjoyed her so much because they were alike in their passion for the jobs. But that had been a lie.
Looking back on things, his calling her to Las Vegas should have been the first clue. If he had listened to the voice of reason screaming in the back of his head not to call her, he wouldn't be sitting in his living room so miserable now. But he had gone on instinct in that case - something he rarely did. He had been faced with a dilemma, and his first instinct had been to reach out to her.
She had touched him once. Her thumb and palm had caressed his cheek gently, the feel of her skin against his sending a frisson of need and desire so potent he had to close his eyes against her for fear she would see and be disgusted. She had only been wiping chalk, for goodness sake - but that one small touch had opened the floodgates. He had started dreaming of her at night, and it had scared him. So he had pushed her away - stopped working cases with her altogether to avoid embarrassing himself any more than he was already embarrassed by the sudden turn of his thoughts and surge of emotions he felt whenever she was near.
And then she had threatened to leave. He had panicked, and Catherine had talked him through it - acknowledging in her own unique way that she knew Grissom had feelings for Sara, and that she supported those feelings. Grissom had taken Catherine's advice - sort of - and Sara had stayed.
Bit by bit, he had opened himself more and more to her every day. Showing her pieces of him no-one else had ever seen. The poet had escaped him during their talk of beauty at the ice rink; their discussion of symmetry had led to a long look she had held. Grissom had thought maybe he would find the courage he needed to tell her how he felt - to acknowledge the power she had to hurt him. But he had waited too long - and Hank arrived at the scene and seized the day. All 6 foot plus, muscled, younger and better looking man than Grissom had ever been. Someone imminently more suited to Sara than Grissom was, and Grissom had stepped back.
Just doing that had almost killed him - acknowledging that Sara had moved on before he ever had a chance to tell her how he felt had hurt beyond belief. He could only imagine how much worse it would have been if they had been in a relationship, and she left him.
But today - his discussion with Willem, that conversation in the car; the song. Who wants to live forever? Grissom did, if it meant loving Sara and Sara loving him. Sara had talked to him of courage. He wondered if he could find his again, and tell her she was right. It would be much better to leave the world knowing you'd loved someone who loved you back. He just hoped he wasn't too late.
_____________
Author's Note: next chapter, more Warrick and Catherine, more case - and Nick sets his plan in motion. Song is 'Rhinestone Cowboy' by Glen Campbell.