BEST FRIEND
I definitely hated the 'dinner invitation' scene.
Spoilers: Unbearable, Big Middle
Greg's monologue forces Grissom to take a look at himself.
Grissom and Greg arrived at the crime scene and looked around; Brass glanced at them and waved. He was talking to a witness and taking notes. Leaving him to his task, the two CSI's entered the area protected by the yellow tape. It was barely 7:30 in the morning, yet it felt unbearably hot. The fact that they were in a park didn't help matters, since vegetation was scarce.
Gil Grissom examined the half-buried body from several angles.
"Poor guy smells already." Greg muttered.
"Greg, I need you to take his temperature." Grissom said, "Also, the temperature of the soil around him, ok? After you're finished, we'll start digging."
"All right, boss."
Grissom started picking up the evidence left by insects.
They worked in silence for a minute or two, until…
"So, you took Sophia to dinner, huh?"
Grissom paused in his work, but Greg didn't; the young man was very capable of working and talking, as he had demonstrated several times in the past.
"I was surprised at first, you know?" he said as he introduced a thermometer into the soil, "There I was, talking to a friend who waits tables there, when suddenly I saw my boss and my coworker, having dinner."
Greg's words bothered Grissom, but he made no comment; he simply continued doing his job, hoping that Greg would not say anything else.
He didn't know that Greg was merely warming up.
"I understand, you know?" Greg said, "I mean, after what you said the other day about wanting someone who doesn't judge you-" he paused as he measured the space between one thermometer and the other. "And she's definitely not the kind of person who makes judgments, right?"
Greg glanced at his boss and smiled, "She's like you, in that sense." He said, "I just know that if I tell her something outrageous, the only reaction I'll get from her is a raised eyebrow." Greg put another thermometer in the soil and continued, "For instance, the other day I invited her to have a beer at my place. Now, you may not believe this, but my apartment looks like a pigsty sometimes." He smiled sheepishly, "I have too many books and too little space. Sometimes I have to sit on the floor because there's a pile of books or discs or dirty clothes on every chair in my place."
Greg smiled as he thought of this. "But I invited her over, anyway," he said, "We were melting in the car, and I thought a cold beer might do us good. Besides, I knew she wouldn't say anything about my mess -at least, not to my face," he added as an afterthought.
"And I was right, Grissom. She simply pushed the books aside and sat on a corner of the couch, and drank her beer. I was like, 'Wow, she's the coolest!' 'cause not once did she criticize." He smiled at the memory. "Of course, than can mean two things, right? Either she's incredibly tolerant, or she just doesn't give a damn. Now, take Sara for instance." He didn't look at Grissom as he said that, so he didn't notice the faint blush on his boss' face.
"The idea of her seeing my place … it's scary," Greg admitted, "because she will definitely say something about my mess. I mean, that's her nature. You can tell her anything, but she'll tell you what she honestly thinks. And if you truly care about her opinion, well, then you've got to be cautious about what you do and say when she's around, right?"
Greg paused for a moment. "And that's why I never asked her in." he admitted, "I never opened my door for her, despite all the times I wanted to do so. I was afraid of what she would say. It sounds stupid, but I was afraid she would dislike me, or judge me and turn her back on me. I felt it was better to have her around only when and where it was safe for me..." he paused and glanced at Grissom, "But then yesterday… it was a hot day, and we were dead tired, and she seemed a little down, and I thought… why not?"
Greg turned his attention back to his work, but he hadn't finished his tale, "So, I invited her over for a drink – she's a Diet Coke girl, you know?" he added with a smile, "So, I opened my door and …" he chuckled, "Do you know what she did when she saw my living room? She chided me. She called me a slob, and then… she started picking up books and dirty dishes, and hell, I don't know how she did it, but she even managed to find a pair of shorts I thought I'd lost forever. That was embarrassing." he said, smiling at the memory.
"And do you know what she did next?" Greg asked, but without expecting any answer, "She took the dirty dishes to the sink and started washing them, can you believe it? I couldn't stop smiling, Grissom. And suddenly she was smiling too. She said, 'come on and do your part!' and there I was, washing the dishes with her, laughing, 'cause she made it fun. We had fun. And in the end she said, 'I don't know why I bother. You'll start the pile again tomorrow' and she narrowed her eyes sternly but she smiled too.
"We ended up sitting on the couch, talking. It was perfect, Grissom. And all along I was thinking, God, I'm not perfect, she knows I'm not perfect, she's just called me a slob. But there she was, helping me… taking care of me. I wouldn't change that moment for anything, you know? And that's when it hit me, Grissom: Some people judge you just for the heck of it and hurt you; some people don't judge you, but only because they don't want to get involved -they nod, they approve, but they really don't give a damn about you.
"And then there are people who judge you, kick your ass, and force you to shape up because they care." he said slowly, "And they tell you if you're wrong, not just because your job depends on it, but because it involves your growth as a person. And they're scary sometimes, 'cause you don't know if they will stick around after they see you for who you really are… But some of them do, and they become your best friends." He looked up and smiled at Grissom, but the older man looked away.
After a moment, Greg put the last thermometer and started taking notes.
Grissom slightly shook the container in his hands, making sure that the beetles he'd put in there were comfortable. He put a little piece of raw liver for them to munch on, and then he put the container away. He picked up two brushes and, after handing one to Greg, started clearing the area surrounding the dead body.
He worked mechanically.
He was thinking of Greg's words, wondering if they had been as casual as they seemed or if Greg had been trying to tell him something. Grissom would never admit this, but he found it very easy to compare Greg's messy home to his own messy soul…
He tried to put those thoughts away, but couldn't. And for the rest of the day, he couldn't help but wonder whether he should have opened his door when he had the chance.
TBC
