Ch. 11:
"Did you know that smoking is a sign of oral fixation?"
"Well, you would know how much I love oral."
Trying not to laugh, she watched as he puffed away on a smoke, his eyes focused on the cards in front of him on the table as he reached for the whiskey bottle and took a sip before going back to thinking. With each passing second, his eyes kept getting clouder but his mind was so keen on the task at hand that when he smiled slightly, a twisting at the edge of his mouth, she knew she was finished. Grabbing his poker chips, he tossed them into the growing pot.
Not even bothering to wait, she tossed her cards onto the table with an uttered curse as she said, "Two pair. What'd you got?"
He flipped his cards over and she saw the Four of a Kind. He won; of course he did. Peering over at her, his eyes roaming over her body, he asked, "Truth, dare, or strip?"
They were in her apartment, playing a game that Gil himself had created one night called "Truth, Dare, or Strip" poker. She'd already finished half her bottle of wine while he decided to only drink a half pint of whiskey, which was only 4 shots, a significant reduction to his usual pint or even fifth which he used to drink over the course of their night together. He was also pacing himself better. He was sipping the whiskey, only averaging about two shots in the past hour. Subtract .01 percent for each 40 minutes, and giving his weight, she'd surmise that he was not legally intoxicated. A .06 if he had to blow into a breathalyzer.
She's had two glasses of wine, but given the fact that she had those two glasses over the past two hours, and given her weight, she was also averaging about the same amount of drunkenness as him. It didn't really matter, no amount of alcohol was going to stop Gil from kicking her ass in poker. The man was practically a professional. He loved poker and had spent many days and nights and weekends playing for large pots of money. Some buy-ins were in the hundreds just to get a seat at the table.
She was already without her shirt, pants, and socks. The only thing she had left to take off was her bra and underwear. He was only without a shirt. The A/C was off, the balcony door was open, letting in the nightly breeze and dry heat so the lack of clothing felt very nice.
There was a song softly playing, one that Gil had added to her Playlist that she then put on a mixed CD. It was about a couple having an affair. Tapping the table, she said, "Dare. Let me ask you a question first—This song, what it's about…Do you think it's possible to be in a relationship where you're both the partner and the lover?"
He wrinkled his head in confusion before asking, "Lover? As in…mistress?"
"Yeah?"
"How did this turn into a truth question for me to answer? I won and you said dare."
She smiled and said, "You help me answer that question, and I'll do whatever you want."
He licked his lips as he sat back in the chair while studying her, probably weighing his options. She gathered up the cards while he thought about it, shuffling them and dealing out another hand. Two for him, two for her, burn one, and then the three flop cards face up.
He didn't touch his cards as he said, "I think it's possible for anyone to have whatever relationship they want with another person. The only problem with what you're suggesting is…compartmentalization and emotional investment. To be the partner, girlfriend or wife, as well as the mistress, then you have to be willing to put your emotions aside. When you're in a relationship, it requires, uh…Okay, here's a scenario: I'm out somewhere—"
"A bar—"
"A bar?"
"It's a scenario. You're at a bar."
He shrugged saying, "Okay, I'm out at a bar. Though, I normally don't go out—"
Laughing, she told him, "Babe, it's a scenario, it doesn't have to be true to life. You're creating a hypothetical scene—"
"Am I explaining this or are you?"
She grabbed a $20 chip and tossed it between them, telling him, "Sorry. You are."
He finally used his thumb to raise the corner of the cards up to take a peek at his hand. Then he tossed in a $20 chip to call her bet. She burned a card from the top of the deck, and then flipped one over. The turn card was a 2 of Hearts, giving her Three of Kind.
"Anyway," he was saying, "I'm in a bar—" She started laughing as he continued, "drinking, and I called you up. Now, you arrive as my girlfriend—"
"I'm your girlfriend in this scenario?" she asked as she tossed more chips into the pot.
His eyes were on hers and she saw a teasing brightness behind the alcohol that was clouding them. That sly smirk was back. "Well, you're not me," he said, making her laugh harder. That wasn't what she meant and he knew it. "You'll want to get me home, take care me, might even find my drunkenness annoying—"
"Never—"
"Because there's more invested in the relationship." He tossed in more chips to match hers. "But as a mistress, I can call you, and you come to get me…but since the nature of the relationship is different, then if I want to go to a hotel and have sex, do more drinking, and play cards for example, then that's what it is. There's no going home to get me in bed to sleep it off."
"See," she said as she burned a card from the deck and then placed the river card down and her Three of a Kind became a Full House, "as both, you get me to take you to a hotel for sex, drinking, and poker, but then afterwards, I get to take you home and tuck you into bed in order for you to sleep it off. And when you wake up, breakfast."
"As long as you're my breakfast," he said with a wink before tossing his cards on the table. He also had a Full House, but hers was higher. "I fold."
She shook her head at him as she won the pot of poker chips. They never actually played for real money. They always played for three things: the truth to a question, a dare, or a piece of clothing. "I asked you a question already, and got the truth, so…What's your dare?" she asked.
Putting his smoke out, he kept his eyes on her as he said, "I dare you to dance for me."
She had not expected that. "As in a strip tease? If you want me to take more clothes off, you're going to have to win a game—"
"You can keep your clothes on," he said as he leaned back in the chair. "You can choose the music, and make the rules…I just want to watch you dance."
She could not believe him. The flush that reddened her cheeks quickly spread down to her chest as she felt the sudden embarrassment. It was a stupid reaction. They were lovers and he's seen her naked, and did things to her that would probably make a professional sex worker blush, but to dance in front of him felt oddly…self-conscious. He'd be watching her moves, her body—
"Why is it embarrassing? We've danced together before—"
"It's not," she shot back but felt the lie in her heart. Damn it, she didn't know why she also got so damn defensive. "It is," she corrected herself, before telling him, "Dancing together isn't the same as dancing for someone in a strip tease. I've never done that before. I'm not a stripper."
"I never said you were. It doesn't matter if—" He stopped himself as a thought suddenly came to him and he asked, "Do you, uh…You don't think you're sexy, or that I might not find you appealing?"
She shrugged and gathered the cards up into her hands as she started shuffling them again. Shaking her head, she told him, "I don't know—"
"I think you're sexy as hell."
When hearing him call her that, she blushed again as she almost laughed. "What if I get it wrong or look stupid?"
He shrugged, saying, "You won't look stupid." He thought about that before saying, "But, it doesn't matter what I think anyway. Stop judging yourself. There's no reason for embarrassment. I already told you before, when you're with me, you can be and do whatever in the hell you want. You saw me drunk as hell, falling into your bathtub."
Feeling the embarrassment creep back up, she also found herself wanting to laugh. She felt giddy and, for some reason, nervous. "Okay."
Picking up the whiskey bottle, he took a drink as she got up and went to her stereo. Removing his mixed CD that they'd been listening to, she grabbed one of her CD cases. He also had a carrying case full of his personal CD collection that he'd left at her apartment nearly a year ago. Norma Jean was wrapping herself around her legs and she reached down and petted her cat before going back to flipping through her CD's. Finding a selection, she put it into the CD player.
Turning to him, she saw that he'd turned his chair to face her and felt the twisting in her stomach as he held out his hand for her to take. "And who said that chivalry was dead?"
~"Come over here—"~
As the INXS song "Need You Tonight" filled the apartment, she grabbed his hand as he pulled her towards him to stand right in front of him. As his eyes roamed over her barely clothed body, she felt a heat spreading up into her chest, and it wasn't from embarrassment. He was right; whatever she felt came from within her own self. He wasn't embarrassed for her, so she wouldn't be embarrassed for herself.
Letting go of his hand, she leaned down to give him a kiss. "The rules are: you don't get to touch, unless I'm the one guiding your hand. No kissing. And…I get to do whatever I want."
~"All you've got is this moment
Twenty-first century's yesterday—"~
He moaned into her lips as she kissed him again. This was going to be fun. And that's what they both wanted. This was meant to be fun. They had a crazy week at work, had seen a lot of death, and had heard a lot of anguish. They needed this time together to feel alive again. To breathe easier and to escape. It didn't just take their pain away, it was also cleansing.
~"You can care all you want
Everybody does, yeah, that's okay—"~
She felt her body moving to the music as she kept her eyes on him. It felt odd at first, silly, and highly self-conscious, but then she closed her eyes and let herself just feel it; feel the music while forgetting about everything. Like the song had said, all they had was this moment. Right now was all they had.
~"So slide over here and give me a moment
Your moves are so raw, I've got to let you know—"~
Opening her eyes, she stepped closer to him and rubbed a hand over his sweaty chest before dropping her hand. Turning around, she sat on his lap and dropped her head back onto his shoulder as she started to move to the music, feeling his breathing against her neck.
~"I've got to let you know—"~
"You're one of my kind," she sang out as he said the words into her ear. She grabbed his left hand and moved it over her chest, down to her waist. She moved her ass back into his groin while singing out, "I need you tonight, 'cause I'm not sleepin'—" Then she suddenly stood, causing him to groan at the loss.
~"There's somethin' about you girl, that makes me sweat—"~
Her ass was inches from his face as wiggled it, dancing, and he smacked it. The pain sent a shudder up her spine, an ache directly between her legs, but he'd broken a rule and he knew it.
~"How do you feel? I'm lonely!—"~
Turning, she slapped him back, right across the face. His moan was gasping, and audible, and the look in his eyes as he stared up at her was one of lustful need. He wanted her to do that again.
~"What do you think? Can't think at all!—"~
Straddling his lap, she grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head back hard. He groaned at how rough she was being with him as a shiver rocked his body as she kissed his throat.
~"What you gonna do? Gonna live my life!—"~
She pushed her sweaty hot chest up against his as she draped her left arm over his shoulder as she started moving, grinding against him.
~"So slide over here and give me a moment—"~
It was getting intolerable, feeling him getting harder as their breaths, body heat, mixed into one. She stood as she kept dancing and moving, thrusting her hips into him as she stood until her panties were in front of his face. His dark eyes were on hers as he leaned forward and licked her through her underwear.
~"Your moves are so raw, I've got to let you know—"~
She smacked him again. His eyes snapped shut as his breath caught as he leaned his head back against the chair and fought back a deep groan as he gripped the sides of the chair to keep from doing the same to her.
~"I've got to let you know—"~
She was really worked up now, feeling the energy kick in as she leaned down and gave him a kiss on the side of his neck as she moved against him. Kissing up to his ear, she whispered, "You're one of my kind," before licking it, sending a shiver through his body.
It was nearly too much, the amount of joy and fun that Gil brought to her life. The amount of confidence he helped to instill. She would have never been able to do this before, not to anyone. She would have been too self-conscious, too shy, to be assertive in any way, especially with a lover. Feeling like her opinion and voice didn't matter. Too embarrassed to ask for what she wanted in the bedroom and feeling highly inadequate. And wondering if she was good enough to keep a man satisfied sexually.
"I need you tonight," Gil started singing as she grabbed the back of the chair and kept dancing as she stared down at him, "'Cause I'm not sleepin'—"
Her dancing got a little less about keeping rhythm and more about touching, creating friction, and building the intensity. Turning back around and dropping down to his lap with her back resting against his chest, she sung out, "There's somethin' about you, boy, that makes me sweat."
She grabbed his right hand into hers and rubbed his hand over her sweaty stomach and then down between her legs. Guiding his hand with hers, she worked the heat up into her body, feeling the anticipation building.
~"So how do you feel? I'm lonely!—"~
Gil's breath was labored against her neck as he kissed her shoulder. Her left hand came up and slapped him, then grabbed his hair, and yanked his lips off her skin, and then kissed him.
~"What do you think? Can't think at all!—"~
He groaned into her mouth as she closed her eyes as she felt her body start quivering. She was coming. Breaking the kiss, she gasped out her orgasm as she kept working his hand against her until she was satisfied.
~"What you gonna do? Gonna live my life!
How do you feel? I'm lonely!
What do you think? Can't think at all!—"~
Turning in his arms, her mouth found skin. Licking the sweat off his chest, she heard him gasp as his hand landed on her back. Smiling at his defiance, she took a nipple into her mouth and bit it hard. He let out a shout of pain before she licked it better. She reached down, undid his belt buckle, the button and pulled down the zipper. He gasped as she grabbed him. He was hard, hot and heavy, in her hand.
~"What you gonna do? Gonna live my life!
So slide over here and give me a moment—"~
He grabbed the sides of the chair again, keeping his hands to himself as she kissed down his chest, licked his stomach, as she sank to her knees.
~"Your moves are so raw
I've got to let you know
I've got to let you know—"~
Peering up into his eyes, he was watching her as she took him into his mouth. "Oh, fuck—…Sara," he breathed out, making her smile as she deep throated him.
~"So slide over here, and give me a moment
I've got to let you know—"~
He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back. Pushing up, she slapped him across the face, making him let go of her hair, as she slid against his lap. He was hard and wet as she rubbed against him
~"I've got to let you know—"~
Grabbing him behind the neck, she pulled him into a deep kiss. He smacked her hard on her ass, making her groan into the kiss, as she felt his hands on her hips, lifting her slightly to bring her down to take him into her body.
~"You're one of my kind."~
She gasped as he filled her while her arms wrapped around his shoulders. It wa the first time he hadn't put on a condom since they started having sex and she felt herself tense slightly once she realized it. "Gil—" He moaned into her neck as he started to move. "Gil, wait-wait-wait—" She gripped his shoulders tightly as she moved away. His hands grabbed her hips tighter, keeping her in place, as he opened his deep blue eyes to focus on what she was saying. He could always pull out but what if he didn't? "We need a condom—"
He shook his head as he told her, "Don't worry—"
"Don't tell me not to worry, I don't want to be a mother anytime soon. Are you going to pull out in time?"
His eyes were on her lips and they suddenly widened, his brain waking up to what she was saying. "I had a vasectomy."
Upon hearing those words, she relaxed as she dropped a hand to his chest, rubbing over it as she let out a breath. "You could've started with that." His lips were on her face and then her neck as she tried to settle back into the rhythm of their love making.
Cupping her face in his hand, he told her after kissing her on the lips, "I'll never make you a mother unless that's what you want. It's your choice, and I'll never take that away from you."
She kissed him again as she thrusted hard onto him, causing him to tense as his breath hitched. She deepened the kiss, her hand running into his hair and grabbing handfuls in tight fists, as she started riding him hard. God, she loved him so much.
She never wanted to stop.
Letting out a deep breath, she knocked on the front door to Gil's townhouse. Down the street she spotted the vultures: the press. All week she'd been avoiding the news, especially once they started making commentary about her and Gil's relationship. Shaking her head at them, she turned back to the door as it opened. Gil was standing there in a loose-fitting pair of jeans and grey Los Angeles Dodgers t-shirt.
"This must be extremely important if you're inviting me into your home," was the first thing out of her mouth and she almost regretted it seeing the look on his face. He'd been stunned, but then a soft smile appeared on his face as he moved aside to let her in.
She'd been nervous all night at work. Thinking about how it could all go wrong. The one person she loved the most in the world, and he had a child who was the world to him. She, of course, would never make Gil choose between the two of them. That wasn't even an option. She just hoped that his daughter would give her a chance to be a part of their lives. She wasn't there to replace her mother, and she still hoped that they would find Julia alive, but with each passing day that was becoming less of a possibility.
His hair was also wet. "Did I catch you getting out of the shower?"
"No," he said as he shut the door and she felt a vibration in the floorboards and heard fingers snapping. She took a couple more steps past the foyer and saw his daughter in the living room, spinning around and snapping her fingers as she danced. On the television was an animated movie that she'd never seen before. Her hair was also wet. "I brought her pool over, and well, we both fell in."
She was never great with kids, but she was still learning. Even though she was awkward at first, she quickly warmed up to Charlotte. At least, she felt that way. She had no idea what Charlotte thought about their first meeting. It definitely wasn't under ideal circumstances. Her father had just been arrested and then this strange lady was taking her away. Yeah, it hadn't gone well.
/My name is S-A-R-A/ she signed to the little girl in the unicorn jacket that had a death grip around a stuffed spider. It was one thing to see pictures of Charlotte, but something else to be face-to-face with her.
Charlotte signed to her but the only sign she recognized was /friend/.
/Yes./ She signed while she spoke the words out loud. /I A-M…Your dad's friend./ That was probably the worst sign language ever seeing how she had to spell some words out, but she tried. That got her points, didn't it?
She held out her hand for her to take as she got her out of Officer Neal's patrol car as she saw Charlotte's eyes focused across the parking lot onto her dad in the back of the state trooper's car. The little girl had so much of her father inside of her that it was no surprise that she ignored her to focus all her attention on him.
At seeing the pain, fear, and heartbreak in her eyes, she couldn't help but empathize. She knew the feeling. There were days when it only felt like yesterday that her own mother was led away in a police car as she was taken by the hand by a strange woman. That woman had taken her to a police station and then another woman took her to a foster home. That wouldn't happen in this case. Where her mother had been responsible for her father's death, and her parents were gone, Charlotte would get her father back. Gil was innocent.
It was a very quiet drive back to Las Vegas since she had to have two hands on the wheel and didn't know enough sign language to communicate efficiently with the girl. It wasn't like Charlotte was trying to talk to her anyway. The girl's eyes were fixated out the window as tears continued to fall down her cheeks. She was lost in her own thoughts and had no words to calm her fears or stop the tears.
Getting to Charlotte's grandmother's house, she looked at the house that belonged to Gil's mother as she shifted the SUV into park then cut the engine. This was not the circumstances she wanted to find herself in. The first meeting of both Gil's mom and daughter was after Gil's arrest for the suspected murder of his estranged wife.
What made it worse was that if Gil's mother watched the news, then she would know who she was in her son's life. The press had labeled her his mistress. Technically true, but not in the least what she was to him. She was more than that. She was his partner, his girlfriend, and lover. His priest at times. She was everything and anything that Gil needed her to be and more. She was the woman he loved.
Turning in the seat to look at Charlotte, she saw her already unbuckling her seat belt. On the floorboard was her bag and she grabbed it up onto her shoulder as she went to the door closest to the sidewalk to get out. She got out at the same time that Charlotte climbed down and shut the door herself. Self-sufficient little girl. She'd been the same way; practically running the Bed and Breakfast her parents owned by the time she was twelve.
The girl was already running up the walkway to the front door and ringing the bell. She knew that Gil's mom was deaf, so knocking wasn't an option. The lights were on in the windows, and it didn't take long for the door to open and Charlotte was in her grandmother's arms.
Gil's mother didn't say anything to her, didn't even attempt to communicate, before she moved away from the door, Charlotte in her arms, and shut it. She knew a dismissal when saw one.
Stepping away, she went back to the SUV and sat in the driver's seat as she thought about what Gil had said to her in the hotel room. It wasn't about loving every part of yourself, but what you could and couldn't live with.
Getting with someone was the easy part, staying with them was the hard part. No relationship was ideal or easy. She saw first-hand how sticking with someone through the bad could end up in murder. But she also learned to appreciate the good, the better, in the relationship in order to endure the worst of it. No one deserved death due to their mistakes. Or, in Gil's case, be sentenced to life in prison.
Family was supposed to offer the one thing that no one else offered: unconditional love. And once someone became family then that was to be expected. Gil was her family.
She knew right then, and had always known, that she loved Gil unconditionally. She really couldn't say the same for his own mother. How he's always spoken about her, their relationship, she knew that there was a lot of bad blood between them. Leaving Charlie with her ached in her gut and she hoped that Gil's mother loved her son enough to not try to turn his own daughter against him. She really hoped she believed in her son's innocence because soon he was going to need all the love and support in the world to get through this.
She finally wiped the tear away from her race that had fallen and started the truck. Pulling away, she took one last glance back through the mirror and hoped she'd get the opportunity to actually spend quality time and get to know Gil's daughter. She would love for Charlotte to become her family too.
Seeing Gil's daughter now, after that night, she no longer saw the scared little girl. Charlotte was happy and dancing to music she could only feel in her body. "The last time I saw her, she was in tears." Looking at him, she saw the grimace on his face. "I wasn't blaming you—"
"I know," he said as he reached out and took a hold of her hand, "Are you sure you're okay with having dinner with us? I'm not asking you to be a part of her life in any way—"
"I'm a part of your life. She's your daughter—"
"You didn't sign up for a kid—"
"You're right, I didn't. I signed up for you. I've learned a long time ago that with you I have to expect the unexpected. Babe," she told him as she squeezed his hand, "we're in this together. This isn't what I wanted but, it's what it is. I'm fine with that."
His head was down, eyes on their intertwined hands, as he gave a nod and pulled her into a hug. She felt him literally relax as he breathed out a sigh of relief against her neck. He'd been worried and for good reason. There were times when she didn't know how she was supposed to be a positive and supportive care giver when she herself still felt like that lost and scared little girl at times. Was empathy enough? She had no idea because it never seemed to be enough for her.
She never had a foster home that kept her longer than a few months. Never was adopted. And never made any real friends or family. She had no family. The only person she's ever had in her adult life who was a constant, and who she knew wanted her, and needed her, and who valued her, was Gil.
"I think your mother hates me."
He started laughing as he pulled back, kissed her forehead, and told her, "Welcome to the club." He moved her hair aside and brought his fingers around to tilt her head up slightly as he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips. "I'll, uh, formally introduce you."
Walking hand-in-hand with him into the living room, she saw that Charlotte had stopped dancing as she was watching them, mostly her father. Gil stopped in front of her as he knelt down and signed something to her. She didn't know everything that he'd signed to his daughter, but she recognized the sign for /girlfriend/.
Charlotte signed something back to him that caused Gil to smile as he chuckled. Standing up, he told her, "She says that you're pretty, like Jasmine. Aladdin," he told her when she only looked at him in confusion. "It's her favorite movie."
"Oh," she said as she smiled at the compliment. "That's better than being thought of as the evil stepmother in Cinderella."
"It's still early, give it time," he quipped.
"Hey." She playfully shoved him, causing him to laugh.
They spent the rest of the evening making dinner together as Charlotte finished watching her movie before going to her room to play. She tried not to overthink this too much. Kids were easy, or at least they were supposed to be. As Gil was putting the lasagna they made into the oven, Charlotte was running down the steps, came right over to her, and grabbed her hand.
Pulling her with him, she signed something to her, and she heard Gil tell her, "She wants you to come with her to her room."
Letting Charlotte pull her through the living room and up the stairs, she was shown to her room. There were toys, clothes, books, and baseball equipment all over her room. On her vanity was an ant farm and on the mirror pictures of her and her dad taken at various photo booths around the city. On the floor, out of its cage, was a tarantula.
/H-E-N-R-Y/ Charlotte signed to her as she picked up the spider and held him in her hands.
She figured most girls wanted to have tea parties, but not Charlotte Grissom. The little girl wanted to show her her pet spider. Luckily for her, she dated her father. Sitting on the floor, she held her hands out as Charlotte moved her hands next to hers to let Henry crawl off her hands onto hers. Gil had told her not to blow on them or startle them in any way. Tarantulas were the most docile spiders, and they couldn't hurt her.
Holding Henry in her left hand, she used her right to sign, told her /I / she signed before spelling out, /L-I-K-E/ She needed both hands to sign spider, so opted to spell it instead, /S-P-I-D-E-R-S./ Maybe she should write everything down on a piece of paper? It'd be so much faster.
Charlotte took Henry back and sat him down before signing to her. It took her a moment to realize she was showing her how to sign that sentence without spelling out all the words. Smiling, she repeated the sentence to Charlotte's delight. Looking around, she spotted a notebook and pencil on her vanity and grabbed both.
Since Charlotte liked to show her how to sign words and phrases, then she could be her teacher. Charlotte was in the middle of showing her how to sign /When's dinner going to be ready?/ when she heard Gil answer.
"It's ready now."
She nearly jumped and looked up over her shoulder. He was standing in the doorway, watching them. Getting to her feet, she told him, "I was supposed to surprise you with that."
His hand was on her waist as he told her, "Consider me surprised." Then he signed to his daughter something that made her roll her eyes at him and groan, but then she walked by him to the bathroom to wash up before dinner.
After dinner, she volunteered to clean up as Gil steered Charlotte up the stairs to get her ready for bed. He was gone for a really long time, but she heard water running, and a great deal of splashing. There was no yelling, but the splashing stopped. In fact, she realized how very quiet their evening had been other than Gil acting as translator. There was no music of anything playing, not a whole lot of verbal conversation, just quiet.
She loaded the dishwasher and got it started and then went over to his stereo and shuffled through his CD's. One of his mixed CD's caught her eye and she found herself smiling at the memory of making it for him about…Was it three years ago? Pulling it out of the sleeve, she put it into the player and pressed play. Then she filled a glass with the wine he'd bought as she listened to the music.
~"At the dark end of the street, that's where we always meet. Hiding in shadows where we don't belong, living in darkness to hide our wrong—"~
He scared her as his arms wrapped around her from behind. She jumped into his arms, feeling them tighten around her waist, as he pulled her to him and kissed her neck.
~"You and me, at the dark end of the street—"~
His hand came up and took the wine glass out of her hand as she turned in his arms. There was a soft smile on his face as he took a sip of the wine. She'd made this mixed CD for him during the time when she only thought that she'd be nothing more than his mistress, the other woman. Having been okay with it, if that was all she was, she tried not to ask him any questions that he wouldn't want to answer or hadn't been ready to answer.
~"You and me—"~
But now, she knows the truth. He did want her to be more than just his lover. He wanted her to be his wife. And his lover. He wanted her to be both. His everything. He just had to learn to trust that she was wanting to be all that for him. That she wasn't going to leave. He needed to learn to trust himself. The arm wrapped around her waist pulled her closer to him as he started swaying to the music as he let her take the wine glass back. His eyes settled onto hers and they weren't leaving.
~"I know time is gonna take its toll, we have to pay for the love we stole—"~
They were paying for it now as the press spread the rumor mill all over the country. She had no idea where this was headed, where they were headed, but she had to have hope that it wasn't going to end with him in prison for a crime he didn't commit.
Feeling his hand trailing down over her shoulder and back broke her from her thoughts as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders.
~"It's a sin and we know it's wrong, oh, but our love keeps coming on strong—"~
Leaning into her, he kissed her. They were soft, light kisses that had her floating on air. His hands were gentle and soft as he caressed the small of her back, sending shivers up her spine.
~"Steal away, to the dark end of the street—"~
She finished the glass then he took it from her and sat it on the table as he grabbed the front of her jeans and pulled her back with him towards the stairs. Walking up to his bedroom, they passed the closed door to his daughter's room, the bathroom, and ended up in his bedroom. He closed the door behind him and locked it before grabbing her into a hug and kissed her hard.
Once she caught her breath, she told him, "Even though Charlotte can't hear, we are not having sex with your daughter awake in the next room."
"Of course not. She's asleep," he said with a smile. Rubbing her back, he asked, "Well?"
"I think she likes me. Thank you for inviting me over. I had fun."
He kissed her again before pulling her shirt off and pushing her back onto the bed. As he kissed over her face, neck, and chest, she closed her eyes as she tried to enjoy how he made her feel as she ran her hands through his hair and over his back. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think about how this all looked to the outside world. She felt like yelling at everyone, especially the media, for not knowing a damn thing but distributing rumors out there anyway like they thought they did.
She felt like yelling at everyone in the lab, at the police department, and on the street who questioned her about Gil, their relationship, and how she could be with him. The looks and whispers had returned, but this time they weren't about her mother killing her father, but about how she could be with a—now known—adulterer and possible killer.
"Stop thinking."
His voice was in her ear. She wrapped her arms around him harder as she felt tears suddenly well in her eyes. It was all starting to become too much. The scrutiny, the rumors, the stares and whispers and all the implications—
"Sara, darling?" She tore her eyes off the ceiling she'd been staring at to focus on his eyes, his face, as he leaned over her. The touch of his warm hand was on her cheek, and he smiled down at her. "The only thing that matters is us. Forget about everyone else. At the end of the day, you know the truth of who you are, the things you've done and why…You only have yourself to answer to." Rubbing her cheek with his thumb, he asked, "What do you want?"
Pushing the tears away, she only knew one answer to that question. "I want you."
Leaning down, he kissed her on the lips before kissing her neck. She closed her eyes again and this time all she could feel was him and how he was making her forget. Once again, he was taking all her pain away. She felt his lips moving lower until he was on his knees with her leg draped over his shoulder and his mouth right where she wanted it to be.
~"They're gonna find us, they're gonna find us, they're gonna find us, Lord, someday—"~
"Dr. Grissom, why won't you answer any questions?"
"Dr. Grissom, why haven't you grieved? Aren't you worried about Julia's well-being?"
"Dr. Grissom, how is it okay to bring your mistress home where your daughter is living while your wife is still missing?"
"Dr. Grissom, where is your wife? Where is Julia Holden? It's been almost a month—"
Pushing past the reporters, he was finally able to enter the crime lab but that wasn't where the media stopped. He spotted the television in the lobby. The news was on, showing a featured report that featured him. The volume was down low with the closed captions on and as he read the text, he shook his head in annoyance. What made it all worse was the fact that Sara and his daughter had been dragged into the news coverage. Thankfully, since Charlotte was a minor, her name and photo wasn't being broadcasted all over the country.
The twenty-four-hour news had become a source of entertainment. They had to win over their audiences somehow. Apparently, they had a live feed of him walking into the crime lab moments ago, along with "Breaking News" video of Sara coming over to his house the night before to have dinner. Cue the speculations. It didn't help that she was also a CSI and wild theories of possible evidence tampering and cover-up were running rampant. Some were even calling her an accomplice and were wondering why she hadn't had charges brought against her as well.
~"You and me, at the dark end of the street. You and me…"~
"Doctor Grissom?" Judy was at the reception desk. She appeared nervous, but then gave him a soft smile as she said, "How can I help you?"
He wasn't used to having to stop at reception at all but seeing how he was still on administrative leave pending the outcome of the trial, he had to register as a guest. "I told Catherine I was coming by tonight. I, uh, need to see Greg. Got a little experiment I'd like to do."
She looked at the foam container in his hand as she asked, "In order to prove your innocence?" She seemed excited by that as she handed him the guest badge while saying, "I just want you to know that we're all rooting for you." She gave him two thumbs up and he had to smile at her enthusiasm.
"Thanks, Judy," he said as he clipped the badge to his shirt. "Who's "we"?"
"Oh, you know, the whole lab. Except for that Hodges guy. He thinks you're guilty."
He gave a nod as he stepped away, saying, "I'll keep that mind."
~"And when the daylight hours rolls 'round, and by chance we're both downtown—"~
He spent years of his life being ignored, a ghost, that it was easy to ignore the stares he was getting as he made his way around the hallways of the lab towards Catherine's office. Before he reached her office, he spotted Sara in the break room with Nick. He headed her way and as he got closer, her head turned as he opened the door and walked in.
She had called him earlier, telling him about her night, how the case was going, and mentioned how hungry she was. She hadn't brought anything to work that night for lunch. So, he'd stopped on the way.
Sliding the foam container over to her, he said, "Got you a vegan burger at that place on Broadway that you like."
She was practically beaming as she flipped the lid open and said, "Thanks, babe. I haven't eaten yet."
"You're welcome," he told her as he leaned down and kissed her cheek, not caring that Nick was sitting right there. It wasn't like they had to keep their relationship a secret any longer. "Nick," he addressed the young man before going over to the community refrigerator and grabbed out a bottle of water before leaving.
Catherine was watching him from the doorway to her office. Approaching her, she said, "Was that a good idea?"
"Kissing my girlfriend?" he asked as he walked in and shut the door behind him. "She's on break."
"Not just that, I mean everything. I've seen the news—"
He stared at her and then said, "Oh, then I guess you're accurately informed then. Tell me, Catherine, what is the news saying about me today?"
"Gil—"
"Is it that I'm a horrible father for inviting Sara over for dinner? Or, how about due to the fact that I'm not answering questions and not grieving for the public that it means that I have something to hide, therefore, I must be guilty? I know, how about this: why can't I stop the world from spinning long enough in order to find Julia? I still have to get up in the morning, get my daughter off to a school where she's being teased and shunned, all the while having cameras shoved into my face and being accused of murdering her mother. Should I wait until after I'm sentenced to prison to introduce Sara to Charlotte? Should I wait for Julia to be found before having her over for dinner? What if she's never found? Am I not ever supposed to continue on with my life?"
She only crossed her arms and glared down at him, saying, "Why do you have to be so dramatic?"
"I'm not being dramatic," he said as he sat down on the sofa in her office. "This is my new reality. What's the right thing for me to do?"
"I don't—"
"No, Catherine, I am asking you. What's the right thing for me to do, and when am I supposed to do it, so that I don't look like a narcissistic asshole who murdered his wife," he nearly snapped before catching himself. Catherine sat down beside him as he tried to rub the ache out of his pounding head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"I know," she said as she patted his leg. "Have you slept?"
He shrugged. He couldn't remember the last time he's slept a full six hours or more at night. "I've been waking up, panicking. All I've been dreaming about is Julia out there somewhere, needing help, and I can't get to her. Some nights it isn't Julia, but Sara or my daughter. I'm helpless. All I want to do is find her and bring her back home to Charlotte. Even though we aren't together, I still love her. She's the mother of our child. She's not perfect, but...who is? Instead of putting all my energy into trying to do that, I have to fight for my own life against a crime I know I didn't commit while the whole world watches with accusing eyes and assumptions."
"I'm sure it's not the whole world, just North America."
He tried to smile at her attempt at humor, but he was too tired. "What if I lose?"
"You're too stubborn and smart to lose."
She had a point, but none of that mattered in court. What mattered was the evidence, what he could prove, and hope like hell that twelve people on a jury—if it was a jury trial—agreed. All he needed was reasonable doubt, but even with reasonable doubt, the jury could still find him guilty. "Any leads?"
She shook her head. "I swear, it's like she just vanished."
"No one vanishes. That's a molecular impossibility. She's somewhere."
Smiling at him, she said, "I've missed you around here."
"Despite not wanting to be on trial for murder, it's giving me something to focus on. I miss work."
"So, what's this experiment you want to do involving Greg?"
Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out his pill bottle of migraine medication. Opening it up, he took out his prescribed dose, showed it to her, and then swallowed the pills down with the water from the bottle he'd gotten out of the break room. Then he handed the prescription bottle to her. "It takes twenty minutes for me to start to feel the effects. I want Greg to take blood samples, four-hour intervals, until we reach sixteen hours."
She played with the prescription bottle in her hand as she said, "The tox report. You want to see how long it takes for your body to fully metabolize the medication out of your blood."
"Ideal circumstance says twelve hours, but I don't have, nor do I take, sleeping pills. It had to have gotten into my system sometime before six that morning. I'm willing to bet around 1:30, 2 o'clock."
"While you were with Dr. Kessler?"
He gave a nod as he thought over the timeline of events that night, and the fact that Ambien was in his blood. "It's the only thing that makes sense. I was drinking at her house. Perfect opportunity to slip the pills into my drink."
"You think she's a suspect? What's her motive?"
He had no idea, but he was going to find out. "To ensure complete compliance and no opportunity for me to skew the results of the blood test, you're going to oversee the blood draw, and…I also can't leave the lab for the next sixteen hours. We don't want Jefferson to come back and say that I could have taken another dose of the medication once I left." Looking over at her desk that was surprisingly organized and free of files, he asked, "Got anything I can help with since I'm here?"
"You're on admin—"
"I'm still a forensic entomologist. You can't tell me that you don't have a single case that doesn't require my expertise."
She gave it some thought as she stood and walked over to her desk. There was a framed photo of Lindsey on top of it and he immediately felt himself smile as he thought of Charlotte. She was staying at her grandmother's until he got back home. "I'll have to confirm with Cavallo first to make sure it's okay, but I do have a case that I could use your help on."
He stood and opened the door, saying, "First, let's get this started, shall we?"
They walked together down to the DNA lab, and he let Greg take a sample of his blood. After Greg stuck him with a needle, he told him, "Even though you don't need to hear it, I think you're innocent."
He watched as his blood filled a vial as he told him, "You're right, I don't need to hear it, but I appreciate it, Greg."
"Hodges thinks you're guilty."
He chuckled as he said, "I heard. Judy told me."
"You know what I told Hodges? That you're the foremost expert on forensic evidence, so how is it that every piece of evidence in this case points to you? I had him stumped, but then he came back with, well, that's what you wanted to happen. Cast all the suspicion onto yourself, and then prove your innocence. Once you do that, then you're home free, when in reality, you did it."
Staring at Greg, he asked in confusion as he said, "That's an unnecessary risk. Why put my fate in the hands of a jury in the first place when I could have avoided it altogether?"
"That's what I said," Greg said as he removed the needle from his arm and then went to tape a cotton ball to his arm.
He stood up and rolled down his sleeve before Greg could finish as he told him, "I'll be back in four hours."
Leaving the DNA lab, he spotted Hodges in Trace. The moment their eyes met, he turned his head and acted like he hadn't been watching this whole time. He only smiled at him as he shook his head and turned to Catherine who'd been on her cell phone. "What did the Director have to say?"
She snapped the phone shut as she told him, "While you're here, you can consult. Once this is done, you have to leave."
That was good enough for him. He missed working. He missed the cases and the lab. He even missed the people. For the next sixteen hours, he consulted on the case Catherine had given him which involved bug evidence. He charted and documented all he could before it was time for him to leave. Greg had five vials of his blood, taken at hours 0, 4, 8, 12, and 16. It would take hours to process the blood and get the results.
~"If we should meet just walk on by, oh, darling, please don't cry—"~
Walking back through the lobby of the crime lab towards the front door, he stopped as he saw several members of the deaf community on the television screen. It had been recorded earlier that day. They had held a press conference in order to ask the public for more help with finding Julia. Like him, she had been an only child, but unlike him, both of her parents had died years ago. Aside from him, their daughter and his mother, Julia's only family was the deaf community.
They had been helping since the beginning of her disappearance in trying to find her. They made fliers and distributed them around the city as they conducted a search. Reading the words on the screen, he saw that they were going to hold a candlelight vigil that Saturday in front of her house. One of the women that was representing the community in the press conference was his mother.
Wrinkling his head in confusion, he pulled out his cell phone and checked his messages and didn't see any new or missed phone calls. Why hadn't she called him and why didn't she tell him that they were going to hold a press conference? He's been dropping Charlotte off and picking her up at his mother's house for days and she never mentioned it.
As he left the lab a little after midnight, he was optimistic that he was finally getting somewhere but deeply troubled that his mother was leaving him in the dark. Then he spotted the news van, saw the lights from the cameras, and then heard the questions as he made his way to his car.
"Dr. Grissom, why are you refusing to talk to the public about your wife's disappearance?"
"Dr. Grissom, how can you look your daughter in the eyes and not tell her where her mother is?"
"Dr. Grissom, will you be attending the candlelight vigil?"
~"Tonight we'll meet…"~
"Dr. Grissom—"
~"...at the dark end of the street."~
"—did you murder your wife?"
TBC…
Disclaimer songs mentioned/used: "Need You Tonight" by INXS. "The Dark End of the Street" by James Carr.