I'm having fun now. Wrote a Catherine/Grissom conversation that I really like. Not in this chapter though. Next one, I think.
Anyway, I have appreciated comments. They are very kind.
Disclaimers: not mine. I adore them anyway.
Nicky leaned a red rose under her nose. He had taken time on this rose, finding the ripest, most aromatic one the store had. Sara loved the smell of flowers. She liked to drop her face in a bouquet and breathe in deep. And then she would look up with the most dreamy smile. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes fluttered open. Then she was looking at him. It wasn't everything he hoped for, but it was a start.
"Hey Sunshine." Nick grew a smile for her.
Her eyes were gauzy and soft.
"It's no fun at the lab without you, girl…" Nick stopped for a moment. It was hard to tell if Sara was with him or not.
Her eyes wandered for a moment and then settled on him. He took a breath and started again. "So Grissom says that you probably want an update on things. Says you're a little impatient about the lack of information coming your way."
Nick waited, but she stayed focused on him. "…So, here's what we know. You have several fractures: two ribs, the right side of your collarbone, your left cheek bone, and your jawbone, but you can probably tell all of that. You did have some internal bleeding, Darling. A little in the kidneys. A little puncture in your lungs. But you're a strong one, Sara. You were able to pull it together without surgery. You're going to be here for probably a week yet, but then you'll be ready to set the world on fire."
He stopped again, waiting for a reaction. Sara looked away for a moment. He thought he saw her shiver a little. She finally turned to him again.
Nicky took a breath. "So, cupcake, what do you say? Is that enough for one day? Let you get some rest. Talk more tomorrow?"
She shook her head. She reached out and held his arm. He smiled, took her hand in his, and settled back into his chair. "Okay…well, what else is there? Oh yeah, how did I forget? Grissom called your mom and dad."
Sara's eyebrows jumped and Nick chuckled. "Now just calm down there. Everything's okay. Grissom finessed it. No, no, I'm serious. He really did a song and dance. Talked about your injuries real casual. Smooth. Who would have known he had it in him. Started about a conversation about rheumatoid arthritis. Did fifteen minutes on how your mom should consider hydrotherapy for her joints. He was a regular Wayne Newton. I'm just glad your mother didn't have a room key."
Sara started to choke. Nick was halfway out of his chair before he realized that she was laughing. He settled back. He was starting to relax.
"So, you want to hear more? Okay, well you know how Greg kind of has his Grissom moments. You know he likes to call him, Grimace, when he is particularly resentful." Sara started to snort again. "Yeah, you got it. He accidentally called him Grimace to his face. Then he climbed under the table in the DNA lab. Well, no, he didn't climb under anything. Just looked like he wanted to. And you know Gris, he just raised an eyebrow and walked away."
He couldn't find the smile on her purple, swollen face, but he thought he could see it in her eyes.
"So you want to hear a Bobby story?" Her overeager nod ended in a groan. He laughed and patted her lightly on the good shoulder. "Okay. Well, you know old Bobby. Since the day he met me, he's considered me kin of some kind. It's a Texas thing, you know. And Bobby, well he likes to get in my ear and have a little ol'boy conversation from time to time. And he's super secretive about these conversations, you know. Always acts like he went off to some kind of sensitivity training where he decided that any and all unprofessional or extracurricular type conversations should only be conducted with other Texans. And, of course yesterday, he's in my ear about how if your perps were in Texas right now, we'd take 'em back behind the courthouse for a little cowboy justice…you know, real wink, wink, and…."
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For awhile there was only sleep and dreams. Lots of dreams. They all sorted weaved in and out of themselves, never quite sure where they started and stopped. There was one dream that was very vivid for Sara. Grissom was in it. He was sitting in the chair next to her, ignoring her as usual. He just kept chatting away about things that Sara couldn't understand. She starts talking to him. In the dream, she tells him that she has always wanted to touch his beard; she always wondered if it was coarse. He continues to ignore her so she reaches up and feels it. It surprises her. It's softer than she imagined. She brushes the palm of her hand along his jawbone and back again. She tells him that he is pretty, prettier than she is. She says it is because of his blue eyes, silver hair and smooth skin, and oh, there is something about his nose. She reaches above his beard as she explains this and strokes his cheek. He starts to laugh and this annoys her. She is trying to have a conversation with him and he won't listen to her. Sharply, she tells him she is not a child. She drops her hand from her face, and he takes it, holds it. He is still laughing, but now the sound of it comforts her. She tells him that he is exquisite, that she has always felt that, and that she has never understood why. She says she feels his heart. Then she laughs because she realizes that this makes no sense. She tries to explain but it's confusing even to her. He is off on another tangent again, and so she gives up, closes her eyes, and goes back to sleep.
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She was awake when Brass came to see her. He came in silently, and without flowers or a card. No attempt at a smile or any of the sweet cooing she got from all of her other visitors. He simply walked over to her side of the bed, leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. She was startled by his display. He sat down next to her. He was so solemn. She kept her eyes on him and waited. She had some idea what he needed to say. He stopped and started a couple times, but his bushy brows stayed trained on her.
"I'm not sure that this is the right time to talk to you about this. All I know is that you are currently trapped in that bed which is no small feat. And you could use this time for a little reflection if you so choose. And the fact that you can't talk back to me has its upside."
He stopped again, and she reached out and grabbed his hand. She was intrigued by the fact that she was becoming this very tactile person.
"Yeah, Sara. I..uh, need to talk to you about how very angry I am at you right now. You went against everything that I and your supervisor explicitly told you to do. You went into a dangerous situation without back-up. You are not trained to do this. Hell, I'm not trained to do it. We have these policies for a reason, Sara!"
The volume of this last remark startled him as much as it did her. He took a deep breath and slowed himself. I would much rather that Grissom was having this conversation with you, but he's just so damn giddy that you're breathing that he can't muster up anything but relief right now. You know, Sara, I can't even call you a hero right now. I don't know that you saved anybody out there. I only know that you added yourself as a victim to that situation two days ago."
Tears started but her eyes never left his. "We were minutes behind you. Just minutes, Sara. Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with you sometimes. If you were mine to fire right now…" He shook his head and looked away. She tried to let go of his hand, but he held on and leaned in. "I still have nightmares about Holly Gribbs, and I only knew her a week. You have too many people that care about you, Sara. This is not just about your life anymore."
He let go of her now, and got up. He tried a smile, but it came out looking like a grimace. "You're not going to get fired. You and your antics were the top story two nights in a row. The sheriff loves the good press you're bringing us, and so, of course, Ecklie loves you too. And as for Grissom…well, let's just say he doesn't have the greatest perspective when it comes to you. Oh, and before I go, I'm supposed to tell you that Grissom left some things for you. He was here earlier. He says he tried to explain things to you but you were out of it. There's a little dry erase board and a book of sign language. He says your jaws are going to be wired shut for at least another two weeks. And we all know how you love to have the last word."
This time he smiled at her. After he left, she realized that she could have talked to him on the dry erase board. She wished he would have stayed so she could write down I'm sorry over and over until it covered every inch of the board.
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"The…nurses…don't sign here," her fingers formed the words crudely, and so she used her face to indicate her frustration.
"You'd be surprised, Sara." Grissom used his hands and his voice.
"Only two weeks," she slowly spelled.
"Okay, but I thought you were the one who wanted to learn how to sign. Here's your chance."
Sara grabbed the dry erase board and started writing. She thrust the board at him.
"I know you want to talk, Sara. But you're going to have to find some patience. You might really have to think about what you have to do and say before you do it. That can't be bad, right?"
She picked up the book and threw it at him. He picked it up off the floor and put it back on the bed. She rolled her eyes. She could see he intended to drive her crazy with his patience.
"So you don't want to talk right now." Grissom took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "Well, I probably should get back to work now."
"No!" Sara was emphatic.
"Good job, Sara. You're really learning how to relax your hands. Very clear. Tell me something more." He carefully pushed the book toward her hands. She reached for the dry erase board, but he reached over and gently took it away from her.
She grabbed the book and started leafing through. She stopped and started working her hands slowly.
"Sleep?" Grissom asked. She nodded.
"What sleep?" he signed back to her.
"You sleep?"
He looked puzzled.
"You no sleep." she declared. Then she spelled the word tired.
"I'm okay. There's a lot to do, and…we were all so worried about you."
Her brow furled. Again she spelled. "I am stupid."
"Don't spell everything."
Frustrated, she returned to the book. After a few minutes, she tried again. "I was wrong. I am sorry."
He nodded at her. "Yes, Sara, you were wrong. Jim told me he talked to you."
"He is mad."
"Yes, he is, but he cares. You know that."
"Are you mad?" She squeezed her eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears.
"You need to learn to trust."
"I don't understand." Sara's fingers talked with no hesitation.
Grissom thought for a moment before he replied. "You are not the only one who cares for the victim. If you waited, we wouldn't have failed you. Even if they had gotten away with those kids, we would have stopped them. You gotta trust me."
"I do."
"Think about it, Sara. Just think about it." Grissom looked at his watch. "This is enough for today. You need to rest. I need to work." Sara wanted to stop him. She wanted to listen, she felt finally ready to listen, but she didn't reach out to him as she had with everyone else. This newfound intimacy failed her when it came to Grissom.
She attacked the book in front of her and he was at the door before she could respond. She slapped the table to get his attention. "Come tomorrow?" she signed.
"We'll see."
"Please. I will practice."
Grissom smiled at her and nodded. She spent the rest of the day trying to remember everything they talked about so she could practice responses.
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Sara stood in front of a mirror for the first time. She was amazed by how yellow she was. She had anticipated the purple and the green, but her skin seemed so yellow. For the last week, she had been encouraging visitors to come when the whole time they were looking at this. The swelling made her face look almost square. The rest of her was stiff and sore, every movement considered before attempted.
She tried the smile she had been giving people over the last couple of days. It was nothing more than a stressed line across her face. She made a mental note to refrain from facial expressions for the time being.
Worst of all, she looked skinny. Very skinny. Ghostly pale. The kind of skinny she was in high school when all the boys called her names and teachers regularly checked in about her eating habits. A wave of frustration rippled through her. She felt trapped by all of this. She longed to get in her truck and take off; leave all of this behind, and return only if she wanted. But she was trapped by healing bones and weak muscles, and a face that stopped people dead in their tracks. She turned back to her bed moving slowly. The sign language book was open and already looking worn. Grissom had been coming daily and she had been practicing hard. The highlight of her days was impressing him with her improvement. She was good enough already so that she could go two or three minutes of conversation without referring to the book. He was due in about an hour, and now that she knew what he saw when he walked in, she was dreading it.
She sat for a moment and then hit the call button. She grabbed the dry erase board and started scratching on it. Finally the nurse came in. She looked at the board and then cocked her head at Sara.
"You want me to call Dr. Grissom and tell him you're too tired for a visit?
Sara nodded.
"You look pretty good, Sara, and you know how much you look forward to the visits. Are you sure?"
Sara nodded emphatically.
"Okay, Hon, I'll take care of it."
Sara waited until her nurse left. Then she climbed under the covers. For a long time, she couldn't find any sleep, and so she stared at the ceiling turning blocks of tiles into mathematical equations.
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