Chapter 9
Gily held on his mother's hand as she walked the familiar corridors of the Las Vegas Crime lab. She knew that Gil's office had moved and she stopped to ask the receptionist for directions. Gily's head swung back and forth watching the people go by. Warrick stopped when he saw the little boy.
"Hey buddy how's it going?"
"My mommy has a picture of you."
"She does?"
"Yeah you are um-Wart. When my hair gets too long she says I have Wart hair. She says that girls like Wart hair. She says that girls really like you. Madison tried to kiss me once but I ran away."
Warrick looked at the long legs and slender back. "Sara?"
She turned at the sound of her old friend's voice. He looked from the little boy to Sara. He had heard the rumors but this kid looked like Grissom miniature.
"Honey who shrunk Gil Grissom?"
Gily smiled. He liked being compared to his father. He was currently pestering his father to shave his beard so that everyone could see their identical clefts.
Sara leaned in to give Warrick a hug and heard a slow drawl over her shoulder. "Well look what the cat drug in."
"Nicky!"
"Look at you girl. You get prettier and prettier every year."
Gily interjected himself into the conversation. The arrival of the elder Gil had shaken off some of shyness. "That's what Daddy says."
Gily's head was almost all the way back so he could get a look at him.
"Okay that's just creepy I feel like I should hand him my reports."
Grissom rounded the corner with Catherine. Gily smiled winningly, not at Gil, but at Catherine. "Are you a princess?" The little boy wanted to know.
"Oh Gil he's so much more charming than you are."
"Hey I thought you came to see me?"
Gily was still staring at Catherine. He was certain she was a princess. Her crown and wand must be in her high car. "I see you all the time Daddy."
Warrick watched the smaller Gil. "Uh homes," Gily looked at Warrick. Warrick gestured with an E.T. figure "We got enough of the hair and eye thing going on around here. You might want to take up painting or something."
Gily spoke with the perfection of four-year-old logic. "You must be the prince."