Chapter 40
Sara's eyes popped open at 6:15 and she hit the ground running, making it to the bathroom just in time. Grissom, drawn away from the living room where he had been reading by the sound of her retching, quickly found her on her knees, head hung over the toilet.
Tears were streaming down her face, half caused by her gagging and half by her embarrassment at being seen like this. Sagging limply against Grissom's chest, she groaned. "Why do I always greet the men I date by smelling like vomit? It's not fair!"
Grissom smoothed a hand over her hair and tied it back with an elastic he'd grabbed off her dresser. "What do you mean 'the men you date'? And I'll have you know that I've smelled much worse. Like when you and Nick handled that decomposing lieutenant."
"Oh god, let's not talk about that day," she managed after catching her breath. "That was definitely not one of my shining moments." At Grissom's curious look, she explained. "That was the day I threw up on the drying room floor in front of Nick. And it was the day I met The Prick."
"The prick? Whose, um, prick?"
She snorted. "No one's, Gris. Let's just say it's my new pet name for Hank," she added dryly.
"Hank . . ." Grissom remembered Catherine saying that the man had done something to Sara last night. "What did he do to you? Catherine said you were upset because of him. Do I need to take out a hit on him?" he asked, only half-joking.
"No, no. No hits. Then you'd be assembling the evidence to put yourself in jail, and that's not good." She sighed and gripped his arm lightly. "Here, help me up so I can brush my teeth and put some clothes on and then I'll tell you about Hank the Skank." She wondered if it was a good sign that she didn't particularly care that Grissom was hugging her and she was in her underwear.
Grissom chuckled. "Skank, huh? Ok, come on, slugger, up we go." He helped her to her feet and steered her to the sink. "You ok with making it back to the bedroom on your own?" Sara, mouth full of toothpaste, only nodded and grunted something that sounded like "yeah."
She was going to feel like shit once her body caught up with her mind, he reflected as he wandered back to the living room. No way was Sara making it into work in the next – he consulted his watch – hour. And he wasn't going to leave Stubborn Sara alone with a brute of a hangover.
Slipping his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed Catherine's home. "Hey Cath, I just wanted to let you know that – oh, uh, yeah. Basically. She's still throwing up, and I don't want to leave her alone. So can you do shift tonight? Great, I owe you one. Bye."
Sara emerged into the living room a few minutes after he hung up, dressed in a pair of boxers shorts – not his, he noted wryly – and her "physicists do it with force" t-shirt. "Cute, Miss Sidle. I do believe you're ready for the runway."
She harrumphed and chucked a pair of socks at his head, which he promptly tossed back at her. Snatching them out of the air one-handed, she cocked her head at him. "Shouldn't we be getting ready for work rather than discussing my lack of a love life?"
"No work for either of us tonight. You'd never make it through shift, and I don't think my muscles can handle carrying you home again. So talk," he ordered.
He knew that she was feeling truly horrendous when she responded to that with only, "Oh, ok." She eased herself down on the couch next to him, feet curled under her. Sliding her arm through his, she leaned wearily against his shoulder. "Well you know I'd been seeing Hank. And NO, he damn well wasn't my boyfriend. We went out, he tried to get me in bed a couple times, I socked him, and he gave up on that idea. I don't know what you'd call our relationship. I thought he was going out with only me, but that just shows how much I know."
"So anyway," she continued, shaking her head, "last night with the 'kamikaze grandma' case, guess who happened to be having dinner in the restaurant the woman totaled? Yep, everyone's favorite EMT. And guess who he was eating with?"
Grissom cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Oh this is the good part. He was having dinner with his girlfriend. The girlfriend he's taking to Tahiti in a few weeks. And they'd been together since before he and I started seeing each other."
"Uh-oh." Grissom tried to sound sympathetic and not like he wanted to do a jig. "So he was cheating on you."
"Well technically, he was cheating on Elaine. The girlfriend. I was 'the other woman.' Let me just tell you what a sour taste THAT leaves in my mouth."
"So you dumped him?"
Sara shrugged. "Not outright. But he knew I knew, and he cornered me in the lab. Said some bullshit about being sorry he hurt me, not looking the least bit apologetic. I told him I was sorry he had too, and that I'd see him around. Trust me, I have no intention of going out with that asshole again."
"What kind of man would date someone else when he had you?" Grissom asked in true puzzlement.
Sara pulled her arm from his and turned to him, eyes mocking.. "Gee, I don't know, Gil. I mean, what kind of idiot would tell me to get a life, then yell at me for getting one and start dating a professional dominatrix? And spending the night at her place? I just have no idea what kind of guy would do that," she told him acerbically.
