CHEAP SHOTS
Chapter 3: Hearts On The Table
Spoilers: "Strip Strangler" (122) (and minor references to "Blood Drops" [107] and "Table Stakes" [114]).
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"You guys, we're really sorry this happened," Nick apologized, standing outside Grissom's office with Catherine, Grissom, Warrick, and Sara.
"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Warrick began.
Catherine held up a hand to stop him. "It's fine, really," she assured them, glancing to Grissom briefly. "Just..." She turned back to her CSIs, smiling at them. "Don't say anything too incriminating, huh?"
"We've got nothing incriminating to say," Warrick replied.
Sara just glanced between them all, casting her eyes to her shoes a second later. "Don't burn down the lab," Grissom instructed his 'kids.' "And uh..." He glanced toward the DNA lab, smirking at the back of Greg Sanders, who was busying himself by using test tubes as drumsticks. "Don't let Greg have his music up too loud."
"Will do," Nick chuckled. "And don't worry... we'll have you guys back in no time at all."
Catherine offered a small smile. "Well, we'll see."
With that, she and Grissom waved goodbye and set off toward the parking lot side-by-side, standing just a hair away from each other. The other three watched until they'd rounded the corner and were out of sight before heaving large sighs. Warrick shook his head. "What are we gonna do?"
Sara shrugged. "Brass said he'd help run the unit until they come back."
"I don't mean that..." he sighed. "I mean what are we gonna do to help them?"
Nick shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his chinos. "Can we even do anything?"
Sara mimicked Nick's shrug, leaning against the door to Grissom's office. "Just be honest. Answer any questions they ask us truthfully."
Warrick shook his head. "The truth could be incriminating for them, though."
She glanced to him sharply. "What? You said during the interrogation that Grissom NEVER favored one of us over the other. And that the way that he felt about Catherine NEVER interfered with a case."
"Well, yeah..." he shrugged. He glimpsed quick at the floor while he shuffled his feet. "But I was kinda thinking about it, and actually... there were a few times where he kinda favored Catherine."
"Such as?" Nick asked, unconvinced.
"The Collins case," Sara jumped in. "That quadruple homicide. He wanted Catherine inside the house, right beside him the whole way, and he stuck me with babysitting duty."
Nick shrugged. "Catherine is the only one of us that is well-versed in blood spatter and blood drops. I don't see that as favoritism." He glanced between Warrick and Sara. "What else?"
"The case about that dead showgirl," she replied. "Warrick could've easily broken that case open, but instead Grissom stuck him with that dead-end hit on that glass elevator."
"And the Holly Gribbs case?" Warrick added, glancing to Nick. "That was supposed to be your case, remember? Until Catherine jumped in and demanded to Grissom that she take it. He could've easily put his foot down and said no. But he didn't. He let her have it."
Nick sighed heavily. "Well if you guys are gonna have that attitude about this whole thing, they might as well just start drawing up dismissal papers for the both of them," he drawled, narrowing his eyes at his colleagues. "I thought we were gonna work together to get them BACK here... not get them both fired." With that he stormed off, leaving Warrick and Sara to exchange looks.
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Grissom and Catherine walked side-by-side out to the Tahoe, neither speaking nor making eye contact. Both just shuffled sadly toward the truck, like children that had been told they couldn't go outside to play. Once inside the Tahoe, both doors having been shut, Catherine broke the silence with a sigh.
Grissom looked over at her. "What?"
When she turned to look at him, he met her eyes only briefly before turning away, reaching for his seatbelt. She rolled her eyes, then did the same. "Just this whole... thing." She shook her head. "It's so stupid."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It'll blow over."
She rolled her eyes once more, nodding slowly. "Yeah, it'll blow over," she breathed in a monotone, sardonic voice. "It'll blow us both to the unemployment office."
"There you go again, thinking negatively," he teased good-naturedly, trying to ease the obvious tension.
"And there YOU go again, acting like you don't give a shit," she snipped, missing his light attempt at humor.
He glanced over at her in shock. "Cath..."
"Why don't you care, Gil?" she exclaimed, outraged as she threw her arms up in the air.
He furrowed his brow, trying to understand where this outburst was coming from. He knew Catherine was prone to having a quick temper, but such a sharp mood swing was completely foreign to him. "Catherine, I not once said that I didn't care about this whole thing."
"You've hardly said ONE WORD to me since the interrogation!"
"I'm saying dozens of words to you right now!" he exclaimed, his voice raising to match hers. "What is your problem?"
"Gil, we laid our hearts out on the table in that room! We confessed things to the whole world that we haven't even confessed directly to each other before!" Her voice softened. "Doesn't that matter to you?"
"Of course it matters Catherine, why wouldn't it matter?" he calmly asked, attempting to restore peace between them, but it was a futile attempt...
"I dunno, you tell me!"
He shook his head. "I don't think we should be discussing this now. It's neither the time nor the place." He turned the key in the ignition, starting up the Tahoe.
"Oh right, of course!" she snipped. "It's never the right time with you, is it? You just lock everything up and keep it hidden away until we're OUT of time, don't you Gil?"
"Catherine!"
"What?!"
"Enough."
She tossed her head in a huff and folded her arms across her chest as she turned away from Grissom, staring out the window and fuming silently all the way back to his townhouse.
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"Hey..." Warrick called, poking his head inside the locker room.
Nick, who was seated on the bench, turned only slightly to acknowledge his presence before turning his eyes away. "Hi."
He sighed. "Look man, I'm sorry about what Sara and I said out there."
"Yeah... and I'm sorry for getting so upset," Nick returned, slowly rising to his feet. He shrugged, throwing his arms up as he did so. "I just thought we were all pulling for the common goal, here... getting Grissom and Catherine reinstated. The way you guys were talking, we were on our way to getting them fired."
"I know," he nodded, "And I'm sorry. That's the last thing I want."
The two men glanced at each other momentarily, sighing in unison. "Have you talked to Brass?" Nick asked after a moment.
Warrick nodded. "He's with Sara right now in the break room. He said something about wanting to do separate questioning."
"For who?" Off the look Warrick gave, he raised his eyebrows. "All of US have to be interrogated now, too?!" He shook his head, slamming the door to his locker. "This is getting WAY out of hand. She shot a multiple murderer, who was ABOUT to harm one of her own! It shouldn't have been scrutinized any further than that."
"I know that, man," Warrick sighed, "But you know how Mobley is... always looking out for his reputation."
"Yeah," Nick huffed, "Wouldn't wanna screw up his chances of becoming mayor now, would he?"
Warrick chuckled. "'Course not." He jerked his head toward the break room. "Come on. Let's go talk to Brass."
They found Brass leaning against the wall near the breakroom with Sara, both of them speaking in hushed tones. When they saw the two men approaching them, they straightened up. "Better now, Nicky?" Brass asked with a slight smile.
Nick grinned, somewhat sheepishly. "Yeah, thanks."
"Before Mobley pulls one of you in for questioning, the four of us should have a quick chat... a little pep talk, maybe." He jerked his chin toward the breakroom, signaling for them to follow him inside.
When they did, they all took seats around the table while Brass paced in front of the fridge. He went over to close the door quickly before resuming his pacing. "Alright... now they're gonna ask you some pretty straight-forward stuff in there... about Grissom's behavior around Catherine, about her behavior around him... cases they've worked together, the whole shibang." He paused. "Now, I think we all know that there are a few instances that could be construed as favoritism... or a few instances that seem a little questionable. Now I still want you to answer the questions TRUTHFULLY, but as we all know... the truth CAN be bent a little and still be the truth."
"What are you saying, Brass?" Sara asked. "That you want us to lie?"
"No! What I'm saying is, if we want Grissom and Catherine BOTH reinstated, we've gotta leave a few minute details out. That's all."
Sara nodded slowly, casting her gaze to the table as she considered Brass' statement.
Nick shrugged his response. "I'm fine with that."
"Yeah, me too," Warrick chimed in. "So which one of us is first?"
"Mobley's pick for 'lucky winner number one' would be Mr. Stokes." He cast an apologetic glance Nick's way. "Sorry, Nicky."
"Hey, I'm ready for it," he insisted, pressing his palms to the table as he rose from his seat. "Where's he questioning us? The station?"
"No, he doesn't wanna use up the interrogation rooms for this," Brass replied. He nodded toward the door. "He's in Grissom's office."
Nick nodded silently, and cast a look at Sara and Warrick before heading out the door.
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"Catherine, you can't go the whole day being mad at me!" Grissom called, stalking after her as she stomped into his townhouse.
"Yes I can!" she snipped back childishly, "You're not the boss of me!"
He paused midstep on the stoop and shook his head, rolling his eyes skyward. "And strangely enough, maturity is one of the things I love about you..." he murmured, then followed her inside.
"What?" She narrowed her eyes at him as she opened his half-full bottle of vodka.
He shook his head. "Nevermind." He then made a face as he watched her pour a generous amount of vodka into a glass of orange juice. "Cath, what are you doing?"
"Making a screwdriver."
He glanced at the clock. "It's seven o'clock in the morning."
"So?"
Another childish, snippy comment escaped her lips, and he sighed in response, walking slowly over to her... holding her gaze. He gently reached for the glass in her hand, his fingers grazing hers as he pried it from her grasp. "So, it's too early to be drinking, Catherine."
"Don't tell me what to do, Grissom!" she shouted, snatching the glass back from him and taking a swig.
He snatched it right back, his eyes burning into hers. "Now you're just displacing your anger, Catherine. We need to talk."
She made a face at him, narrowing her eyes as her lips curled into an angry sort of sneer. "'Displacing my anger'?! Who are you... Freud?"
"Catherine..." His voice held a warning tone, one that spoke of his utter exasperation over her behavior. He once again reached out to take the glass back from her, dumping it promptly in the sink.
"Hey! You know that's YOUR liquor getting dumped down the drain!"
"It's not important to me, Cath." He set the glass in the sink then reached out to grasp both her hands, holding on tight when she tried to move away. "YOU are important to me..."
She wriggled her arms against him, struggling to get free. "Gil, don't do that! You know it won't--"
He silenced her words with an aggressive kiss.
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TBC