Title:              Sympathy for the Devil

Author:            Burked

Email:             res0rvm5@verizon.net

Disclaimer:            CSI is a registered trademark of CBS, Inc. 

"Where's our little ray of sunshine?" Nick asked facetiously.

"If you're referring to Sara, she's taking some personal time," Grissom answered dismissively, shuffling through the assignments.

"Personal time?" Catherine asked.

"Yes, personal time," Grissom answered, too gruffly.  "She's allowed to take time off, just like everyone else."

"Sure she's allowed to, but how often has she ever done it?" Warrick asked unbelieving, his brow pulled down into lines.

"She's doing it now," Grissom barked.  "She put a lot into the last case, and I think it's wise of her to take a day or two to rest," he told them.

Though they sat facing Grissom, three sets of eyes shifted back and forth between each other, sending silent questions across the table.  The answers came in raised eyebrows, frowns, and minute shrugs.

Grissom mechanically assigned the cases and dismissed the team, grateful for the opportunity to get out of the room.  He had lied to them, and they probably all suspected it.  They didn't know what was going on yet, but Grissom assumed that it wouldn't take more than a few minutes before one of them contacted Sara and found out.

He desperately needed to talk to her first.  He was hoping to convince her to do just what he had told the crew:  take some time off, instead of quitting altogether.  If she were truly doing this for him, he could tell already that it wasn't going to work.  Where he had been confused before, he was now panicked.  The only way he had been able to face tonight was to pretend that she was only going to be gone for a little while, that she would be coming back soon. 

But he knew that she wasn't just leaving to relieve him of making a decision.  She was leaving because there should never have been a decision to make.  He loved her, and told her as much.  But apparently not enough to fly in the face of convention, protocol, or expectations.  He had allowed other people to tell him what he could or should do with his feelings – people who didn't care one iota about him or about Sara.  He felt like a coward.

He dialed her number, hoping she wouldn't see his number on the caller ID and screen him out.

"Hello, Grissom," she answered in a controlled voice.

"Hey, Sara," he returned, trying not to sound as leaden as he felt.  "I need a favor."

"What?" she asked cautiously.

"Please don't tell the others you quit.  Not yet.  I told them you were taking some personal time," he admitted.

"Why did you do that?  You know they'll find out sooner or later," she warned.

"I just couldn't say it.  Give me some time to digest it, okay?" he asked, his voice breaking.

Concerned, Sara asked, "Hey, are you okay?"

"I don't think so," he confessed.

"It will get better ... in time," she said philosophically, though she wasn't sure that she was convinced by her own words.

"Are you sure?" he asked, in a sadly hopeful, if unconvinced, voice.

"You know what they say, 'Time heals all wounds'," Sara quoted half-heartedly.

For a few seconds, the phone line was silent, and Sara wasn't sure if he had hung up.  "Grissom?" she asked.  "Still there?"

"Can I come see you?"

"I don't think that's going to help either one of us," Sara admonished.  At the clicking sounds of her call-waiting, Sara told him to hang on while she checked her other call.  In a few seconds she returned to Grissom.

"That was Catherine," Sara chuckled.  "Didn't take her long."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I was taking some time off," Sara answered, unsure why she should go along with this farce.

"Thank you," Grissom exhaled. 

"How long are you going to keep this from them?" she asked.

"I don't know what to tell them.  What do I say?"

"Tell them ..." she paused, thinking, "What's the catch-phrase?  Oh, yeah.  Tell them I'm exploring other career opportunities.  It may not have been the reason, but it's the outcome."

"I don't think they'll settle for that."

"Then tell Catherine the truth.  Let her tell the others.  You didn't do anything wrong, you followed the rules, so what are you afraid of?" she asked, challenging him.

"Can we talk about this in person?" he asked. 

"I don't know if I can see you right now," she admitted, her voice just over a whisper.

"I don't think I can not see you right now," Grissom countered.  "I'm not too proud to beg, Sara.  Please let me come over.  Just for a little while."

"All right, Grissom," she relented.  "Just for a little while.  Just to finish this conversation.  Then we've got to make a clean break.  It's the only way to do it," she advised him.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he said excitedly, hanging up and grabbing his keys.  Nick had been waiting for him in the break room, having been paired with Grissom for the night's case.  Grissom yelled for him to go to the scene without him as he hurried past.

It seemed so surreal that they were going through all this to break up when they were never really together.  'How the hell did that happen?' she asked herself.  'This is so unfair to have to go through the bad part when I never got the good part.'

* * * * *

Sara felt like only a few minutes had passed when a strong knock sounded on her door.  Filled with both dread and excitement, she made her way to the foyer and swung the door open. 

"Lillian Corte, I presume," Sara said in surprise, facing the woman who she had only seen on a driver's license photo.

"It's so nice to meet you," Lillian said, extending a hand.  Sara took it and gave it a few distracted shakes.  "May I come in?"

"Uh, sure," Sara said, directing her towards the living room.  Sara started to shut the door, but thought to leave it open just enough for Grissom to notice that it wasn't latched.  She hoped that from the living room it would look closed.

"We thought you had left," Sara said, moving around to sit on the couch next to the chair where Lillian was lounging comfortably.

"I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye," Lillian laughed. 

"You could have called.  It would have been safer," Sara suggested.

"I wanted to meet you.  You were the only one who ever put it all together.  I'm sorry I have to take the wind out of your sails by leaving," Lillian apologized.

"No wind out of my sails," Sara told her.  "My role is strictly to collect and analyze evidence.  I did my job.  And I hardly did this by myself.  Grissom and Catherine worked on it, along with Captain Brass.  We are a team.  The rest is up to the courts."

"So none of the rest matters to you?" Lillian asked.

"It matters to me as a person, but it doesn't impact what I do on the job."

"How do you separate them?" Lillian asked, genuinely curious.

"I can because I'm not the judge, jury and executioner.  If I had to make the final determination on every case, then it would be harder to separate out my feelings about either the victims or the suspects.  But that's why we have a different mandate from that of the police or the courts.  The evidence we uncover could be used by the defense as readily as the prosecution."

"No offense intended, but it sounds like you are hiding behind a job description."

"Maybe.  But you're hiding, too.  If you are so convinced of the rightness of your actions, why are you afraid to explain them to a jury of your peers?"

"You think they would give me a jury of my peers?  That would be twelve women who were repeatedly raped from the age of four to the age of sixteen.  If I were to face such a jury, I would have no fear," Lillian explained.

"You let him win," Sara said sadly.  "Instead of proving that you are a viable human being, capable of being happy and contributing to society, you are still trying to punish your attacker by killing these other men."

"I feel like I am contributing to society, by ridding it of these vermin," Lillian countered.

"Let's agree to disagree for now," Sara suggested.  "Want something to drink?" she asked, rounding the breakfast bar into the kitchen.  The last thing she wanted was for Lillian to become agitated and leave.

* * * * *

Grissom raised his hand to knock when he noticed that the door was slightly ajar.  Thinking Sara may have purposely left it open for him, he gingerly pushed it open with one finger, peering through the widening gap. 

Seeing Sara and an unknown woman sitting on the couch talking, he breathed out his disappointment.  He began to turn to leave when it suddenly struck him who the other woman was.  Her face, at this moment full of laughter and camaraderie, didn't look all that much like her driver's license picture, but then again, whose does?

He retreated down the walkway and called Brass, who warned him to keep an eye on the situation, but not to approach them.  Brass took Grissom's hanging up as an indication that he heard and understood. 

He heard.  He understood.  But he had no intention of leaving Sara alone with a serial killer.  He knew that Lillian thought they had a connection, but how would she react if she sensed Sara had been deceiving her?  At least he hoped she had been deceiving her;  he was still unsure.

Taking a deep breath, Grissom pushed through the door.  "Hi, honey, I'm back," he said brightly, as he walked over to the couch to kiss Sara.  "Oh!  I didn't know we were having company tonight."

"Grissom, this is Lillian Corte," Sara introduced, mentally coming up to speed with his ruse.  It was apparent to Sara that he wanted it to look like it was natural for him to be there.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't recognize you," Grissom said, pretending to be a bit shocked that she was there.

"I recognized you, Dr. Grissom," Lillian said, tilting her head to look between Grissom and Sara, seeing a side to them that she had apparently missed in her many months of research. 

Grissom took a seat next to Sara and unobtrusively wrapped one of her hands in his.  Though the touch, like the kiss before it, was not intended to be real, it was difficult for Grissom not to internally react to the closeness.  He had missed touching her, even if it had always been incidental.  He fought back his smile as he looked sidelong at Sara;  she met his gaze for a moment, then turned to Lillian.

Lillian could see the emotion that passed between them, and was satisfied that this was not a trick.

"I have to say, Dr. Grissom, that I am surprised," Lillian said.  "In all of my research, I never suspected that you and Sara were seeing each other ... socially, I mean."

"We try to be discreet," he shrugged.

"Isn't that against the rules?" she challenged Sara.

"Yes, technically, it is," Sara admitted.

"Another case where you can separate out your personal ethics from your work ethics?" Lillian probed.

"At work, we uphold the policies we agreed to when we were hired.  We were obviously successful if you were unable to discern our relationship," Grissom answered.  "What we do on our own time is nobody's business."  Grissom gave Sara's hand an almost undetectable squeeze. 

Sara thought she had understood what Grissom was doing and why.  But she was beginning to get confused again.  He always managed to flummox her, even when he did something nice – especially when he did something nice. 

"So, tell me, Dr. Grissom, where do you stand on the morality of my actions?" Lillian asked.

"I understand the instinct for retribution, but I don't believe that murder can ever be justified," Grissom answered.  "And if all you wanted was to remove them from society, you certainly wouldn't castrate and degrade them."

Lillian nodded her understanding.  "I admit that I feel that they deserve a punishment that fits their crimes.  I can see where you, as a man, would see it as 'over the top'.  But what if it were you, as a little boy, who had faced one of them?" 

Lillian could see that Grissom was still unmoved by her argument, though he didn't respond.

"What if it were Sara?" she asked.  She struck a nerve there – she could see the pain and anger flash through his eyes.  His entire body tensed, but he managed to bring it under control when Sara tightened her grasp on his hand reassuringly for a moment.

"I would want him brought to justice, but I ... I ... I don't know about the rest," he finally admitted. 

"Haven't you ever thought about it before?" Lillian pressed.

"Why should I?" Grissom asked, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. 

"Keeping secrets, Sara?" Lillian said, fixing Sara with a gaze.

"No.  I've already discussed this with Grissom," she said, squeezing his hand.  "It didn't happen to me, but to a guy I work with – a very good friend of mine."

Sara had managed to surprise both of them.  She had told Grissom it was a male friend, but she had not said it was someone she works with.  Images of each of the men on the staff began to flip through his mind like a slide show. 

He wondered who it was, but he didn't really want to know.  '... A very good friend of mine' echoed in his mind, and suddenly the other images faded, leaving only one.  Sara only had one 'very good friend' at work.

"I'm not sure I believe you," Lillian said carefully, eyes squinted.

Sara shrugged.

Grissom wasn't sure what to believe.  He knew that if it had happened to him, he would never tell anyone, under any circumstance, no matter how much he loved or trusted them.  He knew that Sara was a little more open than he was, but not by much.  If it had happened to her, would she tell him?

Was she telling the truth about the friend?  Was she making that up just to stall Lillian?  If it were true, was it really Nicky?  Was this a shared experience that brought Sara and Nicky closer together?  Grissom's mind was churning.  It reminded him of why he didn't get close to other people:  their pain becomes your pain.

"Well, I won't impose on you any longer," Lillian said, getting up.  "I just wanted to say goodbye and congratulate you on a job well done," she said, holding out a hand to Sara and then to Grissom.

"You don't have to hurry off on my account," Grissom said, trying to stall her, knowing Brass would arrive any moment.

"I can't stay anywhere too long," Lillian said.  "You know, at first, Detective Brass didn't impress me all that much.  He seemed like all the other detectives I've dealt with.  But he's turned out to be a persistent bugger.  I half-expect to turn around and find him right behind me at any moment," she snorted.

"You mean, like now?" Brass asked her.  He had entered the room quietly, leaving two uniformed cops at the door.  He was angry with Grissom for ignoring him, but glad that Grissom had situated himself close to Sara, and out of the line of fire.  He stood a few feet behind Lillian, his service weapon trained on her.

Lillian looked up at Sara and Grissom, a sad smile on her face.  She was disappointed in herself for letting herself be deceived so easily.  She just wanted to believe that someone, anyone, understood.  She had thought that Sara did. 

Sara looked down, unable to maintain eye contact.  She loosened her grip on Grissom's hand to allow him to let go, now that his diversion was no longer necessary, but he didn't.

"She didn't know the police were coming," Grissom explained to Lillian.  "I called them."

"Lillian Corte, you are under arrest," Brass began, waving the other police officers inside.  One approached Lillian and handcuffed her while Brass recited her rights.

"You know what's funny?  I will no doubt end up on Death Row.  Meanwhile, if I hadn't done what I did, those men would have raped and maybe killed innocent children.  They would certainly have killed their souls, if not their bodies.  And in the blink of an eye, they would be out of prison and back at it.  It just doesn't seem right," she trailed off, shaking her head.

The two policemen escorted Lillian Corte to the cruiser, to begin the end she had known would come eventually.

Brass looked over at Grissom and Sara, purposefully ignoring their still-joined hands.  He nailed Grissom with a glare.  "You and I will talk later about your department's recent confusion on its role in law enforcement," he promised.

Grissom and Sara looked at each other with childlike guilt.  Once Brass left, Sara couldn't help but tease Grissom:  "You better hope he doesn't tell your boss.  I can tell you from personal experience that it doesn't go over well."

"If Carvallo starts in on me, I'll just ask him out to dinner.  I can tell you from personal experience that that will certainly derail his train of thought," he teased back.

"Phew!" Sara exhaled.  "I'm glad that this case is over.  A little too intense for me."  Again, she loosened her grip on his hand, to allow him to disengage.  Again, he didn't.

"Sara, you said that the case was like our relationship, that just because we knew what the facts were, didn't mean it would work out.  Well, the case worked out.  Don't you think maybe it could work out with us, too?" Grissom asked.  "I want to try."

"You want to stay and talk?" she asked hopefully.

"I can't.  I'm on duty tonight.  But I can come back after shift is over.  Can we talk then?"

Sara couldn't help but be a little disappointed.  She had hoped that just this once she would be the most important thing to him.

Sensing her withdrawal, Grissom pulled her chin up to look at him.  "What I said to Lillian is true.  While I am at work, I have to follow their rules.  But when I'm not at work ..."  He smiled at her and shrugged innocently.  "It's the only way I can make this work for me."

"I understand," she said a little hesitantly.

"I hope so.  The two most important things in my life are you and my work.  I don't want to lose either one.  So, I have to be faithful to each in its own time," he said, hoping she wouldn't be disappointed in him anymore;  he was sick to death of disappointing her.

Sara looked down and smiled, bringing her free hand to their joined ones, lightly running her fingers along the back of his hand. 

"Can I hitch a ride to the lab with you?" she asked.  "Shift started hours ago, and I'm late for work."  Sara grinned at him – that smile he hadn't seen in months, that smile that made him feel alive again.  He wanted to hold her and kiss her so much that both his mind and body ached, but he reminded himself that he only had to wait a few more hours. 

'God, I love it when it all starts falling into place,' Grissom thought, walking her to his car.

A/N:  Now, let your own imaginations run wild.  It will be so much better than anything I could possibly write.

Sorry to those who wanted Lillian to get away.  It was a plot symmetry thing, you know?

Thanks for all the kind reviews.  But with betas like Mossley and LSI, how could I fail?