Beware of Geeks Bearing Presents

Summary: A sequel to Poetic Injustice. A bit of fluff – Sara and Grissom want to repair their friendship. Greg wants Sara. Ecklie wants the Red Creeper. Catherine wants a night off. And a mystery man from Sara's past is back.

Rating: PG to be on the safe side.

A/N: Probably a good idea to read Poetic Injustice first, but I think you can follow this story if you don't. Spoilers for Unfriendly Skies. Thanks to Burked and Ann for beta-ing this chapter.

Disclaimer: If I had even a fraction of a percent of the rights to CSI would I be writing fan fiction? Well, yeah, probably, but that doesn't change the fact I own nothing to do with the show.


Chapter 10

Catherine took in her surroundings carefully. Her noggin nodded knowingly as she neared the nonpareil house, notably noble and noticeably neurotically neat, in the nondescript neighborhood; she was no nervous neophyte, nevertheless, numerous gnarled nude gnomes, nuzzling nastily in knurled niches, necessitated a nimble nocturnal navigation through the noxious narrows neighboring the neglected next-door nook.

Following the sounds of voices, she made her way to the back of the nice house, frowning as she went. 'Nice' implied someone who took care of the property. This place gave her the impression of a mad homeowner who combed the lawn and used electrical shocks to train the birds to do their business across the street.

Rounding the corner, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. A clearly distraught man was giving his statement to the police. In his arms, a young girl of about 14 was crying. She always hated these types of cases.

Steeling herself, she walked up and introduced herself. Catherine went down on one knee and gave the girl a reassuring smile before asking what happened.

"That … that … cur!" her father yelled emotionally, gesturing across the fence. "That good for nothing mongrel that lives in that filth next door sneaked over when I wasn't home and assaulted my baby! My little Lulu is ruined!"

"It wasn't like that, Daddy."

"Hush, pumpkin. The police will take care of it now."

"But Daddy…"

"I said hush! It's about time someone took care of the disgusting half-breed…"

"Don't call Jack that, Daddy!"

"I'll call him exactly what he is! This neighborhood will be better once he's gone."

Catherine stood up slowly, following the father's finger to take in the accused assailant. His scarred face clearly indicated he'd been on the losing side of more than a few fights. Dark, dirty hair nearly obscured his beady eyes.

"Yip, yip!" he barked.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Grissom shifted uncomfortably on his crutches as he drew in the schematic of their crime scene. With his limited mobility, he knew he should have stayed in the lab, but he was getting sick of paperwork. Of course, paperwork was all he could manage at their crime scene, but at least he was doing it with Sara.

Several blinks and a quick shake of his head cleared that visual from his mind. He was already standing out at the crime scene as it was. Unfortunately, Sara caught his motion, and she began to move back in his direction.

The corner of Grissom's lip went up as he worked on the diagram. All night she'd been doting on him, making sure he didn't overexert himself. At the same time, she'd been careful not to be obvious that she was doting.

Moving up to him, Sara quickly ran her eyes over him, before making a show of double-checking a measurement on the schematic.

"Subtle, Sidle."

"You okay? Need a break?"

"I'm fine."

"Uh, huh," she said, looking around to make sure they were alone before running her hand over his shoulders. She gave him a frown when he winced. "Sore?"

"A little," he grudgingly admitted.

"That's what you get for chasing the bimbo around the convention yesterday."

"I didn't chase her."

"Okay, you quickly and energetically followed her around," Sara quipped, grinning as she packed away her tape measure.

"Funny, you don't see me complaining about you hanging on Nick."

"Ugh! That is so wrong."

"Ecklie thought you made a cute couple," he teased back.

"Keep that up, crutch-boy, and you won't be getting another massage."

Before he could respond, Grissom was interrupted by Warrick's unannounced arrival.

"Hey, guys."

"What happened to your DB?" Grissom asked curiously.

"He woke up."

"Bummer," Sara said. "For you. Not for him."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I think David nearly had a heart attack when the guy jumped when he felt for a pulse. He was drunk. Passed out in the hotel."

"Where's Nick?"

"Guy got robbed while he was out. Nick's handling that. You need a hand here?"

"Yes," Grissom answered. As much as he enjoyed spending the time with Sara, he had to admit he was probably slowing her down. Things would go faster with another able-bodied CSI. Besides, he needed to take a break. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Take your time," Sara called out, watching as he headed toward the Denali. "I hope he didn't overdo it. He shouldn't have come out in the field."

"He's keeping an eye on you."

Sara looked over to see Warrick giving her a playful look. "Fuller's still in town."

"Right," she said slowly, moving to bag shell casings, ignoring Warrick as he crouched beside her.

"Did you and Grissom do the bathroom yet?"

"What exactly did Nick tell you?" she sighed.

"None of the good details."

"He'd better not! I didn't tell him any details."

"Oh, I think we can figure it out."

"Nick I can see being that juvenile. You, too?"

"Hey, can't pick on Catherine."

"Why not? With those cases she's had…"

"She has photos," Warrick said quietly.

"Of you?" Sara asked, now smiling slyly at him.

"No. Of that guy stuck in the pipe. Ewwww," he said with a shudder.

Sara grinned as she worked her way towards the front of the room. "You know, I had cases like that in San Francisco. Guys with pipe problems."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Of course, gerbils were usually involved."

"No way," he insisted.

"True story. Frat hazing that went way wrong."

"Uh-uh."

"When we get back to the lab, I'll e-mail San Francisco. Have copies of the photos sent."

"You're lying," Warrick said hopefully.

"You wanna bet?"

Letting out a sigh, he moved to the other side of the room to start dusting tables, leaving a grinning Sara alone.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Yip, yip, yip, yip, yip…"

"Can't you keep him quiet?" Catherine asked sharply.

"Jack's upset," the man holding him replied. She screwed her face up as she watched them. Jack looked to be a mix between a toy poodle and a Chihuahua, with a distinct possibility of having sewer rat among his ancestors. He also bore a remarkable likeness to his owner.

"Okay, let me get this straight: Jack," she said pointing to the scrappy dog, "assaulted Lulu." She turned to look at the girl, but refrained from pointing at her. "What's your name?"

"Tiffany-Tennille."

"Okay, Tiffany …."

"Tiffany-Tennille!" she exclaimed with a foot stomp.

"Okay," Catherine said, all sympathy she felt for the girl starting to evaporate. "Where's Lulu?"

"She's locked up," the girl said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?"

"In her kennel."

"Lulu's a dog?" Catherine asked in disbelief as she followed them across the lawn.

"A dog? Lady Wofferton's Precious Tallulah Antoinette is a champion!" the father huffed. "And she's ruined!"

Coming to an enclosure, Catherine was greeted by a large growling Rottweiller with a litter of what could possibly be pups.

"Look at that! They're … they're … they're mutts!"

"They're adorable, Daddy."

"You called the police because your dog got knocked up by the neighbor's, uh, pet?" Catherine asked, not quite willing to call the animal a canine. "That isn't exactly a crime."

"He didn't just 'knock her up'," the father hissed. "Look at this kennel. Even that pathetic excuse for a dog couldn't get in here. He had to be let in."

"Yip, yip, yip, yip, yip ..."

"Can't you calm him down?" Catherine asked, walking over to the fence.

"He's a proud papa!"

Catherine looked at the minute mutt and back to the oversized mother.

"Jack's very nimble," the man offered, sensing the source of her confusion. "And I didn't let him in with your bitch!"

"Well, how did he get in? Don't tell me he's nimble!"

"Yip, yip, yip, yip, yip…"

"Look, sir, calm down," Catherine suggested sagely. "So you can't sell these puppies. What's the big deal?"

"Lulu's ruined!"

"Don't you think you're exaggerating?"

"No! Don't you know anything woman? Once a purebred dog has a litter of mixed parentage, the AKC no longer recognizes future litters."

"You have got to be kidding me. Why?"

"I don't know! It's their rules. What I am going to do?"

"Don't tell the AKC," she suggested. "If you don't tell them, how will they know?"

"I paid the stud fee…"

"You think the owner wants it to get out that his stud was, uh, less nimble than Jack over there?"

"That could work. What about this litter?"

"Can we keep them, Daddy? You never let me keep any of her puppies," the girl pleaded. "Please?"

"I suppose," he sighed, heading back to the house in defeat.

Catherine watched as his daughter smiled evilly, before going over to pet Jack. "Good boy, Jack. Yes, you are!"

Heading back to her Denali, Catherine couldn't shake the feeling she'd be seeing a lot of Tiffany-Tennille in the future.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Hey," Grissom offered as Sara opened her apartment door.

"Hey, yourself. Dinner's almost ready."

"Chinese or pizza?" he teased, smiling as he made his way to the breakfast bar.

"I can cook," she said with a mock-glare. "I only do it on special occasions."

"Is this a special occasion?"

"I hope so," she replied lightly. "What's in the backpack?"

"I brought some wine. I didn't know whether to bring red or wine," he said as he settled on a stool.

"Not champagne?"

"I didn't want to be presumptuous."

"You wouldn't have been."

"I'll remember that," he replied softly, taking the bottles from the backpack. Grissom was careful not to let Sara see the change of clothes he'd used to pad the bottles. She may have found that hope to be presumptuous.

While she set the white wine in the fridge to chill, Grissom quickly scanned the apartment. One of the opera CDs he'd given her was playing softly on the stereo. On the breakfast bar sat a small stack of books on music.

"Do you like the CDs?"

Sara gave him a smile. "They're not bad. I don't think opera will ever be my favorite, though."

"You don't have to listen to them."

"I don't mind."

"How did you court case go?" he asked.

"It didn't. Defense stalled all day long. Have to go back in the morning."

"Did you get any sleep today?"

"Not yet," she said with a grin. "Ready to eat?"

"Yes. And it smells wonderful," Grissom said honestly.

"Wait until you try it."

"Oh, I'm ready to try it."

Sara flashed him a smile as they settled for the meal. When Grissom paused suddenly, she gave him a curious look. "Everything okay?"

"Did you ever get the feeling you forgot to do something?"

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Catherine sighed as she sank into Grissom's chair, shaking her head at the piles of paper on his desk. Even after spending the better part of week on it, he was still behind. She wondered briefly what she'd find if she made it to the bottom of stack; there'd probably be an original map of the Louisiana Purchase down there.

Shoving aside some folders, she made room for her coffee mug, and settled in for a night of paperwork. It was boring, but after this past week she was looking forward to a calm evening of filling out forms.

"Hey, Grissom! You're not Grissom."

"Very observant, Bobby."

"Is he or Sara around?"

"Nope, they're both off. What's up?"

"That shooting they worked yesterday? One of the guns used was also used in a gang murder."

"You don't say," she said archly. When she'd gotten back from the lab the night before, she'd discovered Grissom had saved the shooting for her. Of course, if he hadn't been a smart ass about it, she wouldn't have stormed out of the break room with her doggy-style assault.

"Yeah! And Greg found DNA on the shell casings. Looks like they're going to break this case open."

"That's just great."

"I'll call them and let them know."

"Nah," she sighed. Knowing those two, they'd end their evening plans if they knew about this. Considering how long it took them to get to this point, she wasn't taking any chances. It was getting annoying watching them fumble around each other. "They need the night off. They can do it tomorrow. Go. Shoo."

Settling back down, Catherine picked up the first form, gently serenaded by the sounds of crickets.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Uh. Yeah. That feels good," Grissom moaned.

"Relax," Sara implored from her position straddling him.

"I'm trying."

"You still think you forgot something?" Sara asked as she worked out another knot from his shoulders.

"Yeah," came his muffled reply from the couch's throw pillow. He let out another round of appreciative sounds as Sara continued her massage. When she stopped and got off his back, he slowly rolled over. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now what could you have possibly forgotten that was so important?"

"I don't know," he sighed, scooting up to sit in the corner of the couch. He smiled when Sara moved up beside him.

"Did you let the cat out?"

"Don't have a cat."

"Did you let the dog in?" she asked as she trailed her fingers over his chest.

"Don't have a dog."

"Leave the curling iron plugged in?"

"Not likely."

"Hmmm," she said, running her lips lightly across his. "You remembered the mouthwash. What else could you have forgotten?"

"I really don't care," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The chirping sound caught Catherine's attention again. All night, it had been distracting her. Tossing the pen down, she looked up in disgust, jumping back when a pair of eyes jumped in front of her.

"Dammit!"

"What's wrong?" Greg asked as he walked by.

"Shut the door!"

"Hey, I know I'm cute, but this is work…"

"Sanders, shut that door now, or I'll stuff a flask where the sun doesn't shine!"

"Okay. What's wrong?"

"Grasshoppers."

"Grasshoppers?"

"They're loose! Gil left the top of off their cage," she said, pointing to the offending habitat on his shelf.

"How many were in there?"

"He just bought a new bunch the other day."

"If they get into the evidence…"

"I know! I'll get blamed for that, too!"

"What do we do?"

"Get everyone in here. We have to catch them," Catherine snarled, slamming a file on the desk and sending her neatly stacked papers flying in all directions.

"Or kill them."

"Oh, I'm going to kill him all right," she muttered under her breath.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Sara pulled back when she felt Grissom tense. She gave him a smile before snuggling against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Her grin deepened when he began running his fingers lightly through her hair.

He bent over to plant a soft kiss on the top of her head. Leaning his head back, he swallowed nervously. Things were progressing well, but soon she'd be learning the truth. Grissom couldn't help worrying about how she'd react. Deciding it would be better to give her advance warning, he captured her hand in his and brought to his lips.

"I don't think anyone talks about me."

Sara twisted around so she could see his face. Noticing his odd expression, she gave him a reassuring look.

"Of course, that's not entirely a bad thing. They may not be saying anything good, but there's nothing bad to report, either."

"I'm not sure I'm following you."

"I never had sex on an airplane."

Sara pulled back slowly, her concern growing. "How hard did you hit your head last week?"

"Why?"

"You're not making any sense."

"I'm a very average lover," he said with a ragged breath, getting up to hobble to the breakfast bar.

Sara cocked her head in confusion when he looked back.

"I don't want you to be disappointed."

She dropped her head to hide her amusement. If the way he could make her feel while kissing was any indication, he had nothing to worry about. Laughing, on the other hand, wouldn't be good. Nothing destroyed a male ego faster.

"I'm not worried," she replied.

"But you're used to more."

"No, I'm not."

"Fuller…"

"Was a bad influence, I told you," she said softly, trying to reassure him. "Where are we?"

"Besides your apartment? Las Vegas."

"Yeah. Sin City. If all I wanted was wild sex, even I could have managed that."

"What do you want?"

"You," she said softly, moving to stand beside him.

"I really don't want to lose you," he said softly. "I want you to be happy, and I'm not sure I can do that."

"Grissom," she sighed. "Don't worry. Trust me."

"And if you're not satisfied?"

"Then we'll have to practice more often," she said, shaking her head in exasperation.

"I'm serious," he said, stopping when a blouse landed over his head.

"So am I. I have to go to court in the morning. I'm going to bed now. You coming?"

He pulled off the material in time for the bra to smack him in the face. Seeing Sara's bare back heading down a hallway, Grissom quickly grabbed his crutches to follow her.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A/N: Apologies to the AKC if they've changed their rules over the years.

TBC