The dreams had stopped.
Sleep was leaving him more energized, partially because there were more hours of it and mostly because whatever he was dreaming, he wasn't remembering. "Refreshed" and "rested" weren't accurate yet, but he was sure they would follow soon enough.
Grissom was slowly returning to his usual self. He caught himself thinking, "Back to normal," and grinned a little at the idea. When your workplace nickname is Bug Man, "normal" is a rare experience.
"You're giving me the trick roll?"
"We've all got problems, Nick," Catherine argued. "Grissom, these assignments suck."
Yep, as normal as possible.
"You're absolutely right, Catherine. You too, Nick. I'll just saunter on down to one of the local gangs and demand some more interesting crimes to pass the time."
Warrick looked at him in disbelief. "Did you just use the word 'saunter'?"
"Well you can forget this," Catherine huffed. "It's been a long week and I'm pulling seniority." She glanced at each of the team members in turn. "Sara, what've you got?"
Sara held up her case slip with little enthusiasm. "Property crime in the boondocks. It's yours if you want it."
Catherine wrinkled her nose. Nick did the same, drawling, "This is just pathetic. Our crime lab is the busiest in the nation. Where's the action?"
"Maybe only the dumb criminals are left," Sara suggested. "We've scared everyone else off."
"I understand everyone's boredom," Grissom said irritably, "but suck it up. Like Catherine said, it's been a long week. Monotony means going home on time. And as for the lack of real crime—" His eyes studiously avoided Sara's. "—we should take the lulls when we can. Warrick, you're with Catherine. Sara, meet me outside in ten."
"You're coming with?" she asked, surprised.
"It's near the boundaries of our jurisdiction. If the locals get testy, I'd prefer to deal with them." All of which was really Grissom-speak for, "Bureaucratic bullies delay our Fun Time With Lab Equipment and you're too polite."
Three hours later, however, it was Grissom that was struggling to be polite, if only to prevent an official complaint from being added to the precarious stack of papers on his desk.
"I'm not sure what the trouble is." His gestures had a wider arc than usual; it was the only hint to Sara that he was losing patience. "There's no crime here. Thus, no crime scene for us to process."
"These are good boys," Sheriff Spencer was insisting. "They wouldn't call in a false report."
"I'm not disagreeing with the destruction of property. Neon pink graffiti is hardly a natural occurrence. But it's obvious that those two young men were the ones to do it and there are no laws against spray painting one's own property."
"I understand what you're saying, Mr. Grissom, but clearly you're not listening to me. These boys—"
"Pulled a prank," Sara interrupted, flashing a knowing boys-will-be-boys smile. "And now they're afraid of their parents coming home and finding out. We enjoy our job very much, Sheriff Spencer, and after a two-hour drive nobody would be more willing to declare this a crime more than us. But it's probably best that it isn't, considering that they're just boys. Let the parents deal with them, and all three of us can get back to more productive matters." She broadened her smile.
The sheriff visibly relaxed. "Well, you've got a point there." He nodded curtly to Grissom. "Thanks for your time anyhow." He nodded to Sara. "Miss Sidle, a pleasure." And with that, he walked back to his cruiser.
Grissom looked to Sara with a mix of curiosity and awe. "How did you do that?"
Sara shrugged. "Spend enough time with Catherine... Besides, you aren't the only ones that think it's been a long week." The smile she offered Grissom was much more sincere. "Ready to go home?"
He picked up his unused field kit and fell into step next to her. "You're getting better with the political aspect of our work."
A random thought about the promotion Nick had nearly won over her ran through Sara's head, but she ignored it and simply said, "Thanks."
Grissom, ever the subtle one, used this as his segue into her attack. "You seem good. Have things been—"Sara faltered, nearly falling to her knees, but Grissom was quick to support her, catching her arm with his free hand. "You okay?"
"Mud," she explained distractedly. "Dry as a bone in Vegas but enough rain out here for green lawns, can you believe it?"
"You could always move out here."
"And miss your guys' cheerful demeanor every day? Not a chance."
"It's only a two hour commute," he joked. "I could get you forensics journals on tape as a housewarming gift. The time would just fly by."
She smiled in acknowledgement but seemed distracted. Grissom was beginning to despise sunglasses. Whenever he wanted to know what she was really thinking lately, those damn things were keeping him from reading her eyes.
"I'll drive," she suddenly offered.
"Oh. Sure." His forehead wrinkled in confusion but when they arrived at the car he got in on the passenger's side without comment.
Sara was quiet during the drive. She seemed lost in thought. Not particularly emotional, he decided, just very... concentrated. Silence was one of Grissom's most comfortable settings, so interrupting her thoughts to talk away the two hours back seemed pointless.
The air conditioning was blowing on his face, hot summer sun was pouring through the windows, and the road before them was an endless straight line. The murmur of the engine was rhythmic...
"Oh my..." Her laughter was musical.
He grinned and waggled his eyebrows as he made his way through the crowds.
"What are you wearing?"
He glanced down. "I'm an hour late. It only seemed fair."
"Our honeymoon was a week long. You didn't wear shorts once."
"I'm a father spending Labor Day weekend with his very understanding wife and daughter. Gotta dress the part."
"Daddy, Daddy!" Maya came running up, pigtails flopping against her freckled shoulders.
"Sweetie, you seem confused. You're wearing shorts and a skirt."
Maya giggled, so much like her mother. "Silly, it's a hula skirt. I'm gonna be in the school play!" She turned to Sara. "I need more sunblock. My neck's feeling hot again." Sara pulled out a tube and spread a generous amount on the young girl's skin. "Can I go down to the beach? I wanna practice my dance on the sand."
"Sure, sweetie. Just don't be too long, okay? They might sell out of icecream." Maya giggled again and ran off. Alone, Grissom took a moment to absorb the sight of Sara lying casually under an umbrella, long legs stretched out before her, sunglasses perched on her nose.
"I'm sorry I was late."
"I understand. I always do." She kept her eyes straight, watching Maya down by the water. The busy beach scene was reflecting in her glasses and Grissom found it distracting.
"She misses you."
"We'll play miniature golf later." He gazed at their daughter. "And I made it clear that the rest of the weekend I'm unreachable."
"I'm not talking about Maya." He looked over sharply. The sunglasses were finally gone.
"I don't understand."
"Of course you do." She stood up and stepped close, purposely invading his personal space. She sighed. "What are you doing, Gil?"
He wasn't sure how to respond. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
"Think going back to normal is so easy? Or right, even?" She rested her forehead on his and let her eyes slide shut. "We wouldn't be here if you really thought that." She pulled away.
"We can fix this. It's just... This isn't as easy as it was before."
"Of course not." She pointed away. "I'm right there. And the real thing feels so much better, doesn't it."
He felt his mouth moving but couldn't hear his own response.
She leaned close. "You're a wonderful man, Gil Grissom, and I love you dearly. But for a genius you can be pretty stupid sometimes."
A hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Grissom?"
His eyes opened with groggy energy.
"Grissom? Hey, we're back."
He looked out the window with bleary confusion. The lab's building sat before them. "I fell asleep."
"I noticed," she smirked. "But if I have to go in and file paperwork on our non-crime, then so do you."
He rubbed his eyes, hardly eager to adjust to sunlight that would be gone again in a moment, and stumbled out of the car.
Sara's cellphone rang. "Sidle... Yeah... You wish... Actually, we're outside. Give him five minutes and he's all yours... Sure. Bye." She turned to him. "Nick and Greg got antsy and now there's a batch of test tubes in shards." A good-natured grin. "Welcome back, boss."
- - - - - - - - -
Grissom had expected to be fighting off a distracting analysis of the unexpected dream all day. In fact, though, the expectations were the only thought he gave it for the rest of the shift. Nick and Greg were scolded, equipment replacement requests were filed, and everything was back to normal.
He thought he was home free until, 15 minutes past end of shift, Sara passed his office. Suddenly, the desire to talk with her, just sit and talk, was overwhelming. He had grabbed his keys and sunglasses and was out the door before second-guessing took over.
Her hair was clipped back, probably to compensate for the hot day considering her dark half-sleeved top, and as he approached her Grissom noticed how accidentally beautiful she looked.
She wasn't as aware of him. In fact, she was shutting the car door and turning the key in the ignition.
"Sara!"
She looked up in surprise as he stopped in front of her rolled-down window.
"Did I forget something?"
"No. I was just curious if you had breakfast plans. There were some papers from a new journal that caught my eye. Thought you'd like to discuss them." When in doubt, bait Sara Sidle with facts and numbers.
It took a second for Sara to react. It's okay, Grissom thought, I'm shocked at me too. "I'd like to but I have court."
He frowned in thought. "I thought that wasn't for three hours."
Her surprise was obvious this time. "Good memory. We haven't talked about it for, like, two weeks."
"So that gives you time for some coffee." He was making an effort, she realized.
"Not really." She was smiling to cover the fumble in her words. "I have an errand. It can't really wait."
"Oh. Sure."
"Otherwise, it'd be great. But, um..." She looked awkward. Grissom wanted to kick himself for putting her on the spot. Only a few days ago he had been applauding her ability to move on. But it's not a marriage proposal, his mind argued back. It's coffee. Between friends. We should get that back, at least.
"You should go. Traffic near the courthouse is horrible on Fridays." He stepped back so she could pull away, and that was that.