Hi guys. Thanks for the reviews. I'm sorry it took me longer than usual
to get this posted. I wanted to do a decent job and I hope that's how it
turned out. A great big THANK YOU to everyone who took the time to leave a
review and a huge YOU ROCK to those who reviewed consistently and kept
encouraging me. This was my first piece of fan fiction and I can't tell
you how much your words bolstered me. I don't want to name names; for fear
that I'll leave out someone. But, I think you guys know who you are.
You're awesome, dudes. Sorry, can't help the use of 'dude.' I was raised
in California.
Anyway, please enjoy and let me know if it was a decent ending. I am writing an epilogue and just wanted to know if most of you want to read it or not. If not, that's cool. I'll just let it stand. Peace.
***********
Sara awoke suddenly. Startled, she struggled with her surroundings. Reality crept in. She was in her hospital bed. Still. Sara couldn't help the frown that creased her face. She'd hated hospitals since her first and up until now, only experience as a patient. At age ten her appendix had almost burst before she was rushed into emergency surgery. Thoughts of the days she'd spent in the hospital afterward still made her cringe.
Sara's parents had been busy people, their business a tremendous commitment. They visited her every day, but the hours alone were scary, lonesome and, to her mind, boring beyond all belief. One nurse in particular, grated on Sara's nerves. Having heard one too many fake endearments from this particular RN, Sara had thrown a slice of mummified French toast straight at the woman's face. It was a direct hit, syrup side and all. She hadn't seen that nurse again.
Now, almost twenty-three years later, the fear and boredom twins reared their ugly heads once more. God, she thought, what made me dredge up that old crap? She was stiff and achy this morning. Nothing new there. She also felt flushed. Not quite right. Sara pulled the hospital blanket up to her neck to offset the chilliness, but immediately felt too warm. She was just about to let out a loud sigh of frustration when Grissom and Brass walked through the door.
"There is a God," she greeted them with a grin cut short by a yawn.
"Let me guess, someone is bored?" Grissom smiled broadly as he took her hand. He felt odd kissing her while Brass was in the room, so he concentrated on rubbing her fingers as inconspicuously as possible.
"Bored doesn't even begin to cover it. Hey, Jim."
"Well, you only look about fifty times healthier than last time I visited," Brass grinned. "I won't hold that yawn against you."
"Thanks. Seriously though, this place is starting to drive me crazy. Any idea when I'm getting out? I want to be home."
Grissom watched her intently as she fidgeted with the blanket, seemingly trying to find a degree of comfort. "Not for another few days, at least," he replied distractedly. "Sara, when was the last time a nurse came in?"
"C'mon, Griss, I barely get to sleep and someone's waking me to draw blood. They're all vampires. Yuck." She shivered noticeably.
His hand automatically went to her forehead. "You're really warm," he frowned.
"That would explain the burgeoning love hate relationship with my blanket." She sighed in frustration, again pushing the offending material to her waist.
"Jim, will you get a nurse?" Grissom asked as he quickly pulled the blanket back over Sara and tucked it beneath her chin.
Brass was already out the door as Sara shifted uncomfortably. "Grissom, we both agree I'm warm. You trying to kill me or something?" She pulled at the blanket. "I thought you loved me?"
"I do love you, now leave the damn blanket alone," he said brusquely. He brought both of her hands into his.
Sara was incensed. "Man, Griss, who pissed in your Wheaties?"
He regarded her solemnly for a few seconds before breaking into a wide smile. "Sorry." He bent and kissed her lips softly.
"Umm, perhaps I should get feverish more often."
"Perhaps not," he countered. "It would have been a much longer kiss if I thought you were up to it."
"Well, not if Brass were here, I noticed." She couldn't help smirking.
Grissom blushed slightly and Sara knew she'd made her point.
An older RN walked briskly into the room, followed by Jim.
"Ok, let's see how much your fever's gone up, darlin," she all but chirped, before popping a thermometer into Sara's frowning mouth.
"What do you mean, 'gone up?' She had a fever earlier?" Grissom peered suspiciously at the nurse.
"Well, at 6:00 AM it was just over one hundred and one. The doctor was notified and antibiotics were prescribed. Post-operative fevers are really not all that unusual.
Brass spoke before Grissom could. "But, the surgery was almost a week ago."
"All the same, it's really quite common. No need to worry." She smiled insipidly at the two men.
Grissom narrowed his eyes at the nurse he'd quickly grown to dislike. I'll worry if I want to, he thought. Hospitals make mistakes all the time. And where Sara is concerned nothing is ever 'quite common.' Stop worrying? I don't think so. Nope, I'll continue to worry, thank you very much. So just save your overly cheery platitudes, Nurse Ratchet. And those hideous pink scrubs with kittens chasing yarn that you're wearing do nothing to bolster my opinion of you. The beeping of the thermometer roused Grissom from his decidedly childish inner monologue and he realized that he probably hadn't gotten all that much sleep the night before.
"All righty, let's see what we've got. It's only 102.5. Not much of an increase at all," the RN said sweetly. "I'll just page the doctor and see if he wants to change her medication."
She swept out of the room, much to the relief of the three occupants.
Sara sighed. "See, Grissom, it's only 102. I can take the blanket off."
"No, you can't." His words were slow, as if talking to a recalcitrant child.
"Can too."
"Don't you listen to a thing I say?"
Brass could stand it no longer. "Oh, for the love of God, you two deserve each other. Sara, leave the blanket alone," he barked. "And you," pointing a finger at Grissom, "you sit down and relax before they admit you to the psyche ward."
Both CSI's, momentarily stunned into silence, cast disbelieving expressions at the cop.
"Sorry," Brass shrugged. "I think it's a parent thing."
"Well stop it, Jim. You're disturbing me again." Grissom raised an eyebrow at him.
Attempting to switch the topic to safer ground, Sara asked about the previous night's cases. Brass spent a few minutes relating what the team had been working on. Grissom appeared largely disinterested and kept staring out the door.
"Stay with her for a minute, Brass. I'm going to find Nurse Ratchet and see if the doctor's called back." Jim nodded as Grissom headed into the hallway.
"Gil, just remember our earlier conversation," he shouted after him. "Stay on this floor. No visiting people." Brass turned back toward the bed.
"Honestly, Sara, how did you survive being cooped up with him for so long?"
"I managed," she said, before fixing him with an intent gaze. "What was all that about? Telling Griss to stay on this floor."
Brass opened his mouth to speak, but wasn't certain what to tell her.
"This is about Dunn, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he conceded.
"He's still here and Grissom's been to see him?"
"No."
"Brass, can you give me more than one syllable at a time?"
"Look, I just don't want him doing anything to jeopardize this case."
"Why would he? Geez, this is Grissom we're talking about."
"Sara, Gil's already threatened to kill the man." Brass regretted telling her as soon as the words left his mouth.
Stunned into silence, she worked the words over in her head. No matter which way she turned the phrase it refused to make sense. It simply didn't equate with what she knew about Grissom.
"I'm not even sure he knew what he was saying," Brass continued. "Between shock and blood loss, who knows?"
Sara shook her head. "He told me it was just a graze."
"Listen, you need to be talking to him about this."
"Was he hurt badly?"
Jim sat heavily in the chair beside her bed. "Well, you both had us drinking a fair amount of coffee in the waiting room that day. Griss was in surgery for a couple of hours." Sighing, he continued. "He lost a lot of blood at the scene. He was resisting treatment."
A sudden chill wracked Sara's body. "Why, uh, why would he do that?"
Brass reached over and patted her hand. "I think you need to ask him that?"
"And, he threatened Dunn at the scene?" Her voice was hollow.
Brass nodded.
Both heads turned as Grissom re-entered the room. "Ok, the nurse will be in shortly with your new medication. The doctor switched you to a stronger antibiotic."
She met his eyes in acknowledgement, then quickly looked away.
"Well, I need to get home and catch some sleep before tonight." Brass stood and offered the chair to Grissom. "Get some rest, Sara. We need you back."
"Thanks."
"Catherine should be by this afternoon to give you a ride home, Gil. Call one of us if you need anything before then."
Grissom nodded at his friend as he left, then turned his attention back to the woman know refusing to meet his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure," she answered honestly.
His face was a mix of concern and puzzlement. He stood and reached for her hand, but she pulled away. "Sara, what is it?"
"Why did you lie to me, Grissom?"
"What are you talking about? I've never lied to you."
"Oh, I see," she said flatly. "You said you loved me."
"What the hell, Sara? I do."
"Then why do I have to find out from other people that it wasn't just a graze. That you were really hurt and apparently so hell-bent on revenge you were refusing treatment!"
Grissom frowned and walked to the window. "It wasn't like that, Sara," he said calmly.
Anger welled-up in her as she thought for the hundredth time that she could have lost him.
"Turn around and look at me and tell me how it wasn't like that. How it wasn't some, out of character, macho bullshit that could have cost you your life! Tell me. Please."
Her words stung him deeply. Fear, hurt and anger competed in his mind as he spun to face her. He wasn't sure which of the three emotions caused tears to come to his eyes.
"Don't you understand? He almost killed you, Sara! You stopped breathing! Dunn hurt you!"
The pain in Grissom's voice took Sara aback. The fervor with which he spoke did little to distract her from noticing the tears in his eyes.
"But I'm OK now, Griss. I'm all right."
His eyes pleaded with hers. "You weren't OK then. And I swear to God, Sara, the only thing I could think about was what that bastard had done."
He paced nervously, ashamed for her to see his tears. She watched him; transfixed, yet knowing he needed to get it out.
"I didn't hurt physically. I didn't feel it. But, I swear when I saw you lying there-" He took a breath and looked at her. "I've never wanted to kill anyone, but I wanted to kill him."
Physically and mentally drained, Grissom sat down in the chair beside her bed, his head falling forward into his hands.
Sara felt a tear run down her cheek as she watched him. Leaning forward, she stroked his hair softly then reached for his wrist. "Come here."
Slowly, he raised his head. Taking a deep breath, he stood and draped his arms gently around her. They listened to one another breathe.
"I'm sorry for yelling, Griss. I was wrong."
"Now, now, you two, no hanky panky allowed." Nurse Ratchet came gliding through the door with a blood pressure cart, startling them both. "I'll soon have some medicine for you, Missy."
Sara rolled her eyes at Grissom. "Honey, I told you we couldn't have sex in here," she reprimanded him. We'll do it in the car on the way home."
It was all he could do not to choke. Grissom felt the warm blush spread up his face like a rash. Much to his delight however, Nurse Ratchet seemed even more flummoxed.
"I, I I seem to have forgotten something. I'll be right back." The woman turned and hurried from the room.
"Is it too late to get some French toast?" Sara bellowed after her. "With syrup?"
Grissom gave her a crooked smile and she could tell he was trying hard to suppress a laugh. "You had to do it, didn't you?"
"Whatever do you mean?" She shrugged in innocence.
"You almost gave that woman a coronary. What am I going to do with you, Sara?" He leaned in and captured her lips in a gentle kiss.
"I don't know, Griss, but we can't do it here. You heard the lady."
He smiled and intertwined his fingers with hers, before his face became serious.
"I'm sorry about everything. I shouldn't have kept that from you."
She paused as if trying to come up with the correct words.
"Grissom, just please remember that I love you as much as you love me and I worry about you just like you worry about me. Sometimes I think that's a hard concept for you to grasp."
"Not anymore. I promise."
"And as far as Dunn is concerned, we'll deal with those issues as they come up. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Still feel the need to go see him?"
"What, and take time away from you. I don't think so." Grissom stroked her hair.
"Thank you."
"We'll see him in court. Now lie down before I ask them to come in and sedate you for your own good."
"You wouldn't."
He raised a familiar eyebrow and Sara leaned back against her pillow.
"Sara?"
"Yeah, Griss?" she yawned.
"I've never seen you eat French toast?"
"That's because I hate it."
"So, why did you ask for some?"
"Long story, Griss, but I think you'll like the outcome."
Anyway, please enjoy and let me know if it was a decent ending. I am writing an epilogue and just wanted to know if most of you want to read it or not. If not, that's cool. I'll just let it stand. Peace.
***********
Sara awoke suddenly. Startled, she struggled with her surroundings. Reality crept in. She was in her hospital bed. Still. Sara couldn't help the frown that creased her face. She'd hated hospitals since her first and up until now, only experience as a patient. At age ten her appendix had almost burst before she was rushed into emergency surgery. Thoughts of the days she'd spent in the hospital afterward still made her cringe.
Sara's parents had been busy people, their business a tremendous commitment. They visited her every day, but the hours alone were scary, lonesome and, to her mind, boring beyond all belief. One nurse in particular, grated on Sara's nerves. Having heard one too many fake endearments from this particular RN, Sara had thrown a slice of mummified French toast straight at the woman's face. It was a direct hit, syrup side and all. She hadn't seen that nurse again.
Now, almost twenty-three years later, the fear and boredom twins reared their ugly heads once more. God, she thought, what made me dredge up that old crap? She was stiff and achy this morning. Nothing new there. She also felt flushed. Not quite right. Sara pulled the hospital blanket up to her neck to offset the chilliness, but immediately felt too warm. She was just about to let out a loud sigh of frustration when Grissom and Brass walked through the door.
"There is a God," she greeted them with a grin cut short by a yawn.
"Let me guess, someone is bored?" Grissom smiled broadly as he took her hand. He felt odd kissing her while Brass was in the room, so he concentrated on rubbing her fingers as inconspicuously as possible.
"Bored doesn't even begin to cover it. Hey, Jim."
"Well, you only look about fifty times healthier than last time I visited," Brass grinned. "I won't hold that yawn against you."
"Thanks. Seriously though, this place is starting to drive me crazy. Any idea when I'm getting out? I want to be home."
Grissom watched her intently as she fidgeted with the blanket, seemingly trying to find a degree of comfort. "Not for another few days, at least," he replied distractedly. "Sara, when was the last time a nurse came in?"
"C'mon, Griss, I barely get to sleep and someone's waking me to draw blood. They're all vampires. Yuck." She shivered noticeably.
His hand automatically went to her forehead. "You're really warm," he frowned.
"That would explain the burgeoning love hate relationship with my blanket." She sighed in frustration, again pushing the offending material to her waist.
"Jim, will you get a nurse?" Grissom asked as he quickly pulled the blanket back over Sara and tucked it beneath her chin.
Brass was already out the door as Sara shifted uncomfortably. "Grissom, we both agree I'm warm. You trying to kill me or something?" She pulled at the blanket. "I thought you loved me?"
"I do love you, now leave the damn blanket alone," he said brusquely. He brought both of her hands into his.
Sara was incensed. "Man, Griss, who pissed in your Wheaties?"
He regarded her solemnly for a few seconds before breaking into a wide smile. "Sorry." He bent and kissed her lips softly.
"Umm, perhaps I should get feverish more often."
"Perhaps not," he countered. "It would have been a much longer kiss if I thought you were up to it."
"Well, not if Brass were here, I noticed." She couldn't help smirking.
Grissom blushed slightly and Sara knew she'd made her point.
An older RN walked briskly into the room, followed by Jim.
"Ok, let's see how much your fever's gone up, darlin," she all but chirped, before popping a thermometer into Sara's frowning mouth.
"What do you mean, 'gone up?' She had a fever earlier?" Grissom peered suspiciously at the nurse.
"Well, at 6:00 AM it was just over one hundred and one. The doctor was notified and antibiotics were prescribed. Post-operative fevers are really not all that unusual.
Brass spoke before Grissom could. "But, the surgery was almost a week ago."
"All the same, it's really quite common. No need to worry." She smiled insipidly at the two men.
Grissom narrowed his eyes at the nurse he'd quickly grown to dislike. I'll worry if I want to, he thought. Hospitals make mistakes all the time. And where Sara is concerned nothing is ever 'quite common.' Stop worrying? I don't think so. Nope, I'll continue to worry, thank you very much. So just save your overly cheery platitudes, Nurse Ratchet. And those hideous pink scrubs with kittens chasing yarn that you're wearing do nothing to bolster my opinion of you. The beeping of the thermometer roused Grissom from his decidedly childish inner monologue and he realized that he probably hadn't gotten all that much sleep the night before.
"All righty, let's see what we've got. It's only 102.5. Not much of an increase at all," the RN said sweetly. "I'll just page the doctor and see if he wants to change her medication."
She swept out of the room, much to the relief of the three occupants.
Sara sighed. "See, Grissom, it's only 102. I can take the blanket off."
"No, you can't." His words were slow, as if talking to a recalcitrant child.
"Can too."
"Don't you listen to a thing I say?"
Brass could stand it no longer. "Oh, for the love of God, you two deserve each other. Sara, leave the blanket alone," he barked. "And you," pointing a finger at Grissom, "you sit down and relax before they admit you to the psyche ward."
Both CSI's, momentarily stunned into silence, cast disbelieving expressions at the cop.
"Sorry," Brass shrugged. "I think it's a parent thing."
"Well stop it, Jim. You're disturbing me again." Grissom raised an eyebrow at him.
Attempting to switch the topic to safer ground, Sara asked about the previous night's cases. Brass spent a few minutes relating what the team had been working on. Grissom appeared largely disinterested and kept staring out the door.
"Stay with her for a minute, Brass. I'm going to find Nurse Ratchet and see if the doctor's called back." Jim nodded as Grissom headed into the hallway.
"Gil, just remember our earlier conversation," he shouted after him. "Stay on this floor. No visiting people." Brass turned back toward the bed.
"Honestly, Sara, how did you survive being cooped up with him for so long?"
"I managed," she said, before fixing him with an intent gaze. "What was all that about? Telling Griss to stay on this floor."
Brass opened his mouth to speak, but wasn't certain what to tell her.
"This is about Dunn, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he conceded.
"He's still here and Grissom's been to see him?"
"No."
"Brass, can you give me more than one syllable at a time?"
"Look, I just don't want him doing anything to jeopardize this case."
"Why would he? Geez, this is Grissom we're talking about."
"Sara, Gil's already threatened to kill the man." Brass regretted telling her as soon as the words left his mouth.
Stunned into silence, she worked the words over in her head. No matter which way she turned the phrase it refused to make sense. It simply didn't equate with what she knew about Grissom.
"I'm not even sure he knew what he was saying," Brass continued. "Between shock and blood loss, who knows?"
Sara shook her head. "He told me it was just a graze."
"Listen, you need to be talking to him about this."
"Was he hurt badly?"
Jim sat heavily in the chair beside her bed. "Well, you both had us drinking a fair amount of coffee in the waiting room that day. Griss was in surgery for a couple of hours." Sighing, he continued. "He lost a lot of blood at the scene. He was resisting treatment."
A sudden chill wracked Sara's body. "Why, uh, why would he do that?"
Brass reached over and patted her hand. "I think you need to ask him that?"
"And, he threatened Dunn at the scene?" Her voice was hollow.
Brass nodded.
Both heads turned as Grissom re-entered the room. "Ok, the nurse will be in shortly with your new medication. The doctor switched you to a stronger antibiotic."
She met his eyes in acknowledgement, then quickly looked away.
"Well, I need to get home and catch some sleep before tonight." Brass stood and offered the chair to Grissom. "Get some rest, Sara. We need you back."
"Thanks."
"Catherine should be by this afternoon to give you a ride home, Gil. Call one of us if you need anything before then."
Grissom nodded at his friend as he left, then turned his attention back to the woman know refusing to meet his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure," she answered honestly.
His face was a mix of concern and puzzlement. He stood and reached for her hand, but she pulled away. "Sara, what is it?"
"Why did you lie to me, Grissom?"
"What are you talking about? I've never lied to you."
"Oh, I see," she said flatly. "You said you loved me."
"What the hell, Sara? I do."
"Then why do I have to find out from other people that it wasn't just a graze. That you were really hurt and apparently so hell-bent on revenge you were refusing treatment!"
Grissom frowned and walked to the window. "It wasn't like that, Sara," he said calmly.
Anger welled-up in her as she thought for the hundredth time that she could have lost him.
"Turn around and look at me and tell me how it wasn't like that. How it wasn't some, out of character, macho bullshit that could have cost you your life! Tell me. Please."
Her words stung him deeply. Fear, hurt and anger competed in his mind as he spun to face her. He wasn't sure which of the three emotions caused tears to come to his eyes.
"Don't you understand? He almost killed you, Sara! You stopped breathing! Dunn hurt you!"
The pain in Grissom's voice took Sara aback. The fervor with which he spoke did little to distract her from noticing the tears in his eyes.
"But I'm OK now, Griss. I'm all right."
His eyes pleaded with hers. "You weren't OK then. And I swear to God, Sara, the only thing I could think about was what that bastard had done."
He paced nervously, ashamed for her to see his tears. She watched him; transfixed, yet knowing he needed to get it out.
"I didn't hurt physically. I didn't feel it. But, I swear when I saw you lying there-" He took a breath and looked at her. "I've never wanted to kill anyone, but I wanted to kill him."
Physically and mentally drained, Grissom sat down in the chair beside her bed, his head falling forward into his hands.
Sara felt a tear run down her cheek as she watched him. Leaning forward, she stroked his hair softly then reached for his wrist. "Come here."
Slowly, he raised his head. Taking a deep breath, he stood and draped his arms gently around her. They listened to one another breathe.
"I'm sorry for yelling, Griss. I was wrong."
"Now, now, you two, no hanky panky allowed." Nurse Ratchet came gliding through the door with a blood pressure cart, startling them both. "I'll soon have some medicine for you, Missy."
Sara rolled her eyes at Grissom. "Honey, I told you we couldn't have sex in here," she reprimanded him. We'll do it in the car on the way home."
It was all he could do not to choke. Grissom felt the warm blush spread up his face like a rash. Much to his delight however, Nurse Ratchet seemed even more flummoxed.
"I, I I seem to have forgotten something. I'll be right back." The woman turned and hurried from the room.
"Is it too late to get some French toast?" Sara bellowed after her. "With syrup?"
Grissom gave her a crooked smile and she could tell he was trying hard to suppress a laugh. "You had to do it, didn't you?"
"Whatever do you mean?" She shrugged in innocence.
"You almost gave that woman a coronary. What am I going to do with you, Sara?" He leaned in and captured her lips in a gentle kiss.
"I don't know, Griss, but we can't do it here. You heard the lady."
He smiled and intertwined his fingers with hers, before his face became serious.
"I'm sorry about everything. I shouldn't have kept that from you."
She paused as if trying to come up with the correct words.
"Grissom, just please remember that I love you as much as you love me and I worry about you just like you worry about me. Sometimes I think that's a hard concept for you to grasp."
"Not anymore. I promise."
"And as far as Dunn is concerned, we'll deal with those issues as they come up. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Still feel the need to go see him?"
"What, and take time away from you. I don't think so." Grissom stroked her hair.
"Thank you."
"We'll see him in court. Now lie down before I ask them to come in and sedate you for your own good."
"You wouldn't."
He raised a familiar eyebrow and Sara leaned back against her pillow.
"Sara?"
"Yeah, Griss?" she yawned.
"I've never seen you eat French toast?"
"That's because I hate it."
"So, why did you ask for some?"
"Long story, Griss, but I think you'll like the outcome."