10- "Apologies and Car Crash"
Sara jumped up, spooking Nevina, causing her to swim away rapidly.
"Hi." She stated, trying to look natural.
Grissom smiled an inward smile. She was barefoot and had her jeans rolled up to her knees.
"Hello, Sara." Her name seemed almost foreign to his lips.
Awkward silence.
Now or never, Gil. She's staring at you.
Now or never, Sara. He's looking at you.
"I'm sorry."
It was spoken from both parties, and at the exact same time. That was all that needed to be said.
Meanwhile, Taña and Greg were driving.
"Take a left up here. A left."
"Yeah, I know, I'm not deaf." Taña snapped back.
She took a right just to tick him off.
"Okay, that was so not funny." Greg said, leaning over to grab the wheel while they still were driving. Taña looked over at him incredulously, "What are you doing?"
"I'm aiming you."
"Don't make me hurt you, Greg. Get your hands..."
"I'm just aiming you, shut up, you big, whiny..."
"Boy, I clobbered you before and I will not hesitate..."
"Just make a U-Turn right..."
"Greg, you're invading my personal bubble."
"I've invaded it before, and I didn't hear you complaining..."
"Oh, Greggo, you did not just go there..."
"Watch out!!" Greg shrieked, not as manly as he would have hoped, but enough to get the effect he wanted: Taña swerved to the right and avoided crashing into the car that magically appeared in front of them.
They landed in the ditch in a cloud of dust. Greg slipped off of his seat and landed in Taña's lap. He smiled up at her.
"Hi, you."
"You see, this is why they invented seatbelts," Taña said, shoving him off harshly and Greg replied by doing a very good impression of a hissing cat.
They backed out of the ditch and somehow managed to get to the victim's house without murdering each other.
They walked up to the door and Greg knocked. A police man opened the door, they were there to tell the wife, and gestured to the dining room, where an attractive woman and an equally attractive teenage son sat, looking devastated.
"Mrs. Livingston?"
She looked up with tear stained eyes.
"My name is Greg Sanders, from the crime lab, and this is Agent Taña Szmerka from the FBI. Can we ask you a few questions about your husband?"
She nodded, and her son leaned over and placed a reassuring hand on her leg.
"What's your name?" Taña asked, gesturing over to the seventeen year old. He looked up like he just noticed Taña. He shot her a brief, odd look, and then said, "Jeremy Livingston."
Greg wondered what Taña was on about, but he needed to get these questions done.
"When was the last time you saw your husband?"
"Three nights ago. We had... gotten into a fight."
"Did he hit you, Mrs. Livingston?" Taña jumped in, and everyone shot her a look of surprise.
There is no way she could determine that by two sentences, Greg thought to himself.
The look Vivica Livingston returned immediately made Greg reconsider his doubts with criminal profiling.
"I... I..."
"You don't need to avoid me, Mrs. Livingston," Taña said, drawing closer for a pressuring effect. "Your husband is dead now. Please tell me what could have lead to his demise."
"Agent, if you are suggesting that my husband beat me, then you are absolutely wrong. I loved my husband!"
Taña had this look like was about to say something but she kept her tongue, "Jeremy, can I have an interview with you?"
Vivica was about to protest, but Jeremy put a hand up to stop her, "Don't worry, I'll go."
Taña nodded to Greg and walked into a separate room, leaving Greg alone to talk to Vivica. Greg wondered if that entire, pushy-FBI-Agent act was just so she could separate the two. He continued to question her and finally finished and Taña and Greg congregated outside, heading back to the car.
Taña put her sunglasses on, "Well, that was interesting."
Greg shook his head at her, "What... how... what..."
"Yes?"
"What is the dealie-yo-yo?"
"The what?" Taña asked. Greg shrugged and they stopped at the car. Both hands reached for the driver's door handle.
"You wanna drive again? No thank you, I have no real suicidal urges today." Greg said, opening the door, but Taña planted herself in front of it.
"First off, you grabbed the wheel and invaded my personal bubble."
"Your personal bubble...?"
"SECONDLY, I am not entrusting the wheel of this car to a skinny, white scientist who just freely used the phrase 'dealie-yo-yo'."
Greg looked defeated, "I call shotgun."
Taña smiled and climbed into the driver's side.
"Nevina is a three year old Spinner Dolphin. They're called that because when they jump, they spin on their longitudinal axis." Sara was pointing to Nevina, as she and Grissom where sitting, legs in the water, talking.
"What's the baby's name?" Grissom asked, always his curious self.
Sara blushed, "Sara, actually."
Grissom lifted an eyebrow, silently asking her to explain.
"Well, she was a premature baby, and if I had not been checking the tanks that night no one would have noticed that Nevina was bleeding..." She let her voice trail off, and looked off into the distance.
The sun hit her face just right, and Grissom was amazed, not just at her incredible beauty, but at her presence. She seemed so totally content. So happy.
"We miss you, Sara. We all do."
"But what if I don't miss you?"
The next night, Grissom was in his office again. He was thinking about her for the umpteenth time.
She seemed happy, but in her eyes she almost seemed empty; void of all emotions. He was worried about her. He knew it was stupid, but he knew how hard it could be on her, starting a new life for herself.
He was so worried. He lifted himself off his chair and started walking.
He knew he shouldn't be doing this, that it was unprofessional, but he needed to know something.
He walked over to computer analysis and stopped abruptly at the door. Taña was working on Jack Livingston's computer.
He knocked on the door and she spun the chair around to face him.
"I need you." He said.
"Karate is a form of martial arts in which people who have had years and years of training can, using only their hands and feet, make some of the worst movies in the history of the world."
- Dave Barry
