Title: A Wolf at the Door
Author: Spike Speigel
E-mail:
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me. Just taking them for a joyride.
Spoilers: Everything before Viva Las Vegas. Sequel to No Surprises.
Summary: The crime lab gets a wake up call when they become the focal point of a new case. Part V.
Status: Finished
To say she was disappointed was an understatement. Sara had gone over the parking lot meticulously, and all she had to show for it was a piece of chewed gum, Greg's blood and hair, and the dented roof of his silver VW Beetle. No prints, no foreign fibers, nothing. So, while Mia worked on the gum, Sara decided to wait for the results from the third envelope.
So, here she was, in a lab room with Hodges. Sara stood upright, leaning against a marble topped table, arms crossed, while Hodges sat in his chair, looking over his shoulder every once in a while before returning his gaze to the computer monitor. Sara had noticed this on more than one occasion, finally calling him on it.
"What?"
Hodges didn't bother to look back, instead focusing his attention to the runtime of the current DNA analysis. "What what?"
"You keep looking at me."
"Am I?" Hodges raised a weak fist up to his face, biting nervously on the thumbnail.
Sara's hand came down on the backrest of the swivel chair, turning it around so Hodges was facing her. "Yeah, and it's making me uncomfortable."
The distress in Hodges' voice was unmistakable. "Oh, I'm sorry. For all we know, I'm probably the next one this nutbag takes out. Or you. Or whoever. So you'll excuse me if I'm just a bit nervous right about now."
Sara nodded her head slightly, completely understanding where Hodges was coming from. "I'm…I'm sorry. I guess we're all on edge."
Hodges nodded, a weak smirk emerging on his face. "Forget about it." The printer began to warm up, the machine emitting a low hum. "Analysis is almost done." Both turned their gaze toward the printer, neither noticing Nick walking toward them in the distance, Lindsey close in tow. As Nick neared the DNA lab, he could almost see the tension in the room.
"Hey."
Sara looked up, Hodges' focus remaining on the printer. She looked down at Lindsey, a gentle smile now on her face. "Hey. How you doing, sweetie?"
Lindsey nodded her head slowly, remaining close to Nick's side. Nick gently brushed his hand across Lindsey's hair before speaking. "Second or third envelope?"
Hodges spoke up, the paper beginning to emerge from the paper tray. "Third. Second belonged to Greg. No surprise there." The printer let out a final mechanical groan before going silent, Hodges hurriedly pulling the paper from the tray. Unfortunately, the results printed on said paper were not what he was expecting. Nick could see the confusion on Hodges' face; worry now beginning to overcome him as well.
"Problem?"
"In a manner of speaking."
Sara looked at him quizzically, Hodges handing the printout to her. After a moment, she could see why the analysis had confused Hodges. "Is this right?"
Hodges nodded. "No match for anyone in the lab."
Nick frowned at the news, disappointment tinting his words. "Guess it's time to go through the databases."
Sara handed the printout back to Hodges, concurring with Nick's assessment. "David, can you see what CODIS kicks out? And if that doesn't give us anything, check the military and police databases. This guy's a long-range shooter. Someone had to train him." Hodges nodded agreement, turning back to his computer to begin the search. Sara turned to Nick, Lindsey looking on in quiet interest. "I've got Greg's car in the garage. Wanna give it another pass in case I missed anything?"
Nick vaguely shook his head, looking down at Lindsey. "That's okay. I'm sure you didn't miss anything. Besides, I still have those surveillance tapes to finish. It'd go faster if we both worked the stacks." Sara nodded slightly, agreeing with his reasoning. "But first." He kneeled next to Lindsey, his voice tender. "Lindsey? Sara and I have some work to do. I'm going to leave you in your mom's office until we're done, okay?" Lindsey's grip tightened around Nick's hand, Lindsey not ready to be left alone after what had transpired. Fortunately for her, Nick got the hint. "Okay. No office. Wanna see what you mom does for a living then?"
Lindsey didn't look at him, her voice timid. "Whatever."
Sara smiled at the little girl, seeing her mother in her. "And when we're done, we can go and get some ice cream until you mom comes to pick you up. Okay?"
Lindsey nodded slightly, both Nick and Sara seeing the smile emerging on her lips. Both exchanged a glance before making their way to the video room, Lindsey remaining close to both CSIs.
"Airport security did a decent job keeping the scene intact for us."
Grissom looked up at Brass, seeing the fatigue evident in his face. "Any word from Catherine's mother's?"
Brass looked away from Grissom, who continued to collect evidence near the bloodstain that had come from Warrick's wound. "Officer found her unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. Most likely chloroform."
"We'll have to wait for the hospital results. Is Catherine over there?"
Brass turned his attention to the stranger, his back to them. "Not yet. Said she had something to take care of. Probably wants to make sure Lindsey's okay." Grissom nodded absently at Brass' comment, still processing the area. "So, Rory called the Feds?"
Grissom didn't look up, instead catching a glint out of the corner of his eye. He turned to the source of the light, a smile emerging on his face. "Yep. Checked just to make sure. Seems the FBI sent us one of their best." Grissom turned to Brass, metal forceps in his hand. "Souvenir?"
Brass nodded as Grissom placed the bullet into a plastic bag. Finally, they had something tangible to work with. Well, other than the envelopes, that was. Brass turned back to Agent Morrison, his curiosity finally winning out. "What is he doing?"
Grissom placed the bullet into his kit before rising from the ground. He glanced over at Brass while making his way over to Morrison. "Let's find out, shall we?" Brass shook his head, slapping himself mentally for even asking the question in the first place. Both men stood on either side of Agent Morrison, Grissom querying the agent. "Agent? Captain Brass would like to know what you're looking at?"
Morrison raised his hand in front of his face, index and middle finger pressed together, pointing out into the distance. "That's where I'd be if I wanted to take a shot."
Grissom and Brass followed Morrison's fingers, both realizing what the agent was pointing to. Brass spoke, clearly impressed by the Fed. "Damn, how'd we miss that?"
Grissom answered the question, a hint of approval in his voice. "Because we're not the ex-Marine. He is." Morrison grinned slightly, Grissom continuing. "So, you'd be able to make a shot from up there?"
Morrison answered, no hesitation in his voice. "Hell, I'd probably be able to do it from the billboard behind it with the right equipment. But, yeah. It's far enough for concealment, but close enough for a clean shot. Which one you want?"
Grissom snapped off his latex gloves, a grin on his face. "I'll take the closer one. Unless you've got a preference."
"Nah, I'm good. Besides, I wouldn't want you throwing your back out lugging your kit up the taller one. You're already short of people as it is." Morrison picked up his kit, walking toward his car. Brass and Grissom exchanged a glance, Morrison calling back to them. "You guys coming, or what?"
Brass began to walk toward the vehicle; cell phone in hand ready to call the proper authorities for cherry pickers to get his criminologists up on the billboard while Grissom remained motionless, still grinning. It was hard to admit, but try as he might, Morrison was starting to grow on him.
"Sir, Ms. Willows is here to see you."
"Very good. Send her in, Ms. Simmons." Sam Braun stood in front of the penthouse windows, looking at the world below him. No matter how many times he looked out these windows, the scenery always managed to take his breath away, especially at night. Only at night did his city awaken, bathing her inhabitants in her soothing aura, welcoming them with open arms to this supposed city of sin. But he knew better. Treat her with respect, and the city would repay in kind. Treat her as a one-night stand, and she'd do likewise, leaving you battered, broken, and most likely bankrupt.
He could hear the door open, the metal hinges groaning at the weight of the mahogany doors. He could tell from the sound that only one door had been opened, the other remaining closed. He adjusted his gaze, focusing now on the reflection in the window, Catherine walking toward him.
"Hello, Catherine. Would you like something to drink?"
Catherine stopped at his desk, her arms crossed about her chest. "No, that's okay. Thanks, anyway."
Braun finally turned around to face his daughter, a small smile playing across his face. "Care to sit down?" Catherine complied, both finding their way into their respective seats. Braun clasped his hands together, his elbows on the desk. He placed the makeshift fist below his chin before continuing. "So, you said you needed a favor, I believe?"
"That's right."
He could hear the uncertainty in her voice. Undoubtedly, this was going to be one hell of a favor given the fact she was even asking for help. "Must be important. You being here and all. Took you what. A few months before you cashed the check?"
Catherine nodded slightly, beginning to wonder if she'd made a mistake in coming here. She decided the hell with it. The faster she got it out in the open, the easier it'd be later on. "About why I'm here."
"Yes?"
"I need you to look after Lindsey and Mom for a while."
Braun raised an eyebrow, surprised at her request. "Sounds serious. You know, with you forbidding me from seeing Lindsey and all."
Catherine answered frankly. "It is."
"This wouldn't have anything to do with the McCarran incident, would it?" Catherine looked at him, a look of astonishment on her face. "I make it my business to know about what's going on in this city."
"Alright." Catherine looked down at her hands, contemplating her next words. "I can't tell you much since it's an active case. But it does affect Lindsey and Mom."
Braun nodded slightly; chin still perched on his hands as he spoke. "Okay."
"Okay, what?"
"I'll look after them in the mean time. Besides, gives me a chance to bond with my granddaughter."
Catherine's voice rose, fear tinting her words. "She's not to know you're her grandfather."
"Why not? She's family, after all."
Catherine scoffed, not meaning to, but her emotions got the better of her. "Yeah? Tell that to your ex-wife."
Braun's hands opened up, his palms facing her in mock defeat. "Point taken. But that doesn't mean I can't spend some quality time with her."
Catherine shook her head, realizing this was probably the best she'd be able to do given current circumstances. "Fine. Just…just try and be civil with Mom, okay?"
His answer was to the point. "I'm nothing but civil, Catherine."
She gave him a look of bemusement before rising from the leather chair. "I'll bring them over as soon as I can." She began to walk away from the desk. However, Braun's voice stopped her in mid stride.
"Is there anything else?" Catherine looked over her shoulder, giving him a quizzical look. "I hear that the shooting at McCarran isn't the only incident that's affected your unit. Would you like me to look into the matter? See what I can turn up, so to speak?"
Catherine hesitated for a moment, unsure about her father's question. The silence remained in the air for a few seconds before she finally replied. "Fine. But just information. Nothing more."
Braun smiled at his daughter, a twinkle in his eye. "Of course."
Catherine returned her father's smile with a meek one of her own before walking toward the office door. However, before she left the room, she spoke, not looking back. "Sam?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Thank you for this." With that, she walked out of the office, never getting a chance to hear her father's reply.
"Anything for my little girl."
The three men walked down the hallway, Agent Morrison surveying the surroundings in near awe. Grissom, noticing the young man's curiosity, finally spoke. "Something in particular you're looking for?"
"No, not really. It's just this is my first time in here."
"And why would that matter?"
"I applied for a position here years ago. Didn't make the cut, I guess. So, I ended up serving my country instead."
The curiosity in Grissom's voice was evident as he spoke. "Well, this is one of the top labs in the country. Perhaps your background wasn't sufficient at the time?"
Morrison's voice was subdued as he continued looking into the various labs. "Well, I wouldn't know. But still, I dreamt of working here. Working with you."
Brass chimed in, his tone playful. "Trust me, kid. There are better places than this to work." He looked over to Grissom, a slight grin on his face. "Better people, too."
Grissom ignored Brass' verbal jab, returning his attention to Morrison. "You can always reapply. I'm sure your credentials will reflect the growth you've undergone since your initial application."
Morrison finally turned to Grissom, a smirk on his face. "Nah. I'm good where I am. But it would have been something to see if I could be Watson to your Sherlock."
The head CSI smiled at Morrison's words, the sincerity evident in his voice. "Maybe when you're done with the FBI, you'll consider CSI for your future endeavors."
"You never know."
The men continued to make their way to the ballistics lab to have the bullet from the crime scene analyzed, when Hodges emerged from his lab, walking toward the group excitedly. "Hey, boss. You're gonna want to take a look at this."
The group met Hodges halfway, Grissom looking over Hodges questioningly. "What do you have, David?"
"Not sure if anyone's told you yet, but the hair sample in the third envelope didn't match anyone in the lab."
Grissom shook his head slowly. "No, I didn't know that. Did you match it to CODIS?"
"No match."
Brass spoke, a hint of frustration in his voice. "But you did match it?"
Hodges glanced over Brass hurriedly before returning his attention to Grissom. "Got a hit in the Federal database."
Grissom furrowed his brow, the news perplexing him. "Federal?"
"Yeah. An Agent Morrison."
"Michael Morrison?"
"Yeah, how'd you know that?" The three men exchanged glances, Hodges confused by their reaction to his finding. That's when he realized that there was someone in the conversation that he didn't recognize. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"
The agent answered, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. "Agent Michael Morrison." Hodges didn't mean to laugh, but given the current predicament, he couldn't do anything but. Morrison turned to Grissom, his tone a mixture of confusion and uncertainty. "What the hell is going on here?"
Unfortunately for Grissom, he didn't have an answer.
Grissom found himself greeted to two females on his couch, two pints of Ben & Jerry's readily evident. He closed the door slowly behind him, choosing his words carefully. After all, it wasn't every day he had his lover and his friend's daughter in his home.
"Everything okay here?"
Sara looked up at the approaching Grissom, pulling the spoon from her mouth. With a quick gulp, she spoke. "We're okay. Lindsey and I are just having a girls' night in. Isn't that right?" Lindsey mumbled incoherently, the spoon proving to be a detriment to speaking. Sara rose from the couch, greeting Grissom with a small hug. "How are you doing?"
He looked down at her; unsure as to the level of intimacy he was allowed to show in front of Catherine's daughter. Fortunately for him, Sara answered his question by dropping a small kiss on his lips. He smiled at her tenderness before speaking. "I'm okay. Just tired."
"I know. We're all stretched pretty thin."
Grissom looked over to Lindsey, who continued to stare at the television, a dribble of ice cream on the corner of her lip. "Catherine knows Lindsey's here?"
"Yeah. I was going to stay at my place but Catherine told me that I didn't have to since she apparently knows we're together."
Grissom grinned sheepishly, Sara looking at him mock accusingly. "She found out. Honest. But she said she'll keep it a secret until we're ready to tell everyone."
"I'm just teasing." Sara pulled away from Grissom, walking toward the kitchen as she spoke. "Did you have dinner yet?"
"Not really. But don't worry. I can throw something together."
"It's not a big deal. Just take your shoes off and relax. Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes."
Grissom looked at Sara, then back to Lindsey. He sighed softly, realizing that he didn't have a choice in the matter. He kicked off his shoes, placing them near the foot of the couch, before sitting down next to Lindsey. "So, what are you watching?"
Lindsey never looked at him as she answered, placing another spoonful of Chunky Monkey in her mouth. "South Park."
Grissom's brow furrowed as he looked on in mild interest at the television program. Needless to say, he didn't like it as much as Lindsey did. He'd come to that premature conclusion when the rotund boy in the red jumper had been tricked into eating pubic hair. "You know, if you want to change the channel to something else…"
"It's okay. I like this one. Cartman's about to feed that kid's parents to him. That was so cool."
Grissom ran a hand through his hair, befuddled by the current situation. No wonder Catherine was having trouble with Lindsey recently if this was the type of television she was being exposed to. Then again, Sara had thought it okay for Lindsey to watch as well, so maybe it was just something he wasn't getting. He frowned slightly at the thought. There was a lot he didn't understand when it came to human interaction. But, at least he was trying. That had to count for something, right?
The knock at the door stirred him from his thoughts, Grissom rubbing Lindsey's head gently as he rose from the couch. Upon answering the door, he was greeted with a somewhat fatigued Catherine standing in his doorway. "Hello there. Care to come in?"
"Thanks." As Catherine moved past Grissom, she was somewhat annoyed to see Lindsey stuffing her face with a pint of ice cream. "Grissom. Now she'll never get to sleep."
Grissom raised his hands up in defense. "Hey, I just got here."
Catherine's annoyance quickly changed to amusement at the situation. "Tell your girlfriend that we're going to have a talk about this later."
"No need. She's in the kitchen. But, can you wait until she's done fixing me dinner before you lay into her?"
Catherine grinned at Grissom. "I never thought I'd see it."
"What's that?"
She touched Grissom's chin with her thumb and index finger, tilting his head slightly as though she was examining him. "A domesticated Grissom." Grissom gently brushed her hand away, both sharing a smile. With that, Catherine walked over to her daughter, kneeling with her arms wide open. "C'mon, Linds. Time to go." Lindsey reluctantly parted with her ice cream, eventually moving into her mother's arms. Catherine lifted her daughter up, cradled in her arms as she turned to Grissom. "Thanks for looking after her."
"Don't thank me. Thank Sara. I've been at McCarran for most of the day."
"Did you find anything?"
Grissom nodded slightly. "Bullet. It's in ballistics as we speak. Also collected some fibers from a billboard. Might be nothing, but at least we finally have something to work with. Anything at your mother's?"
Catherine shook her head. "I'd say you've got the best lead so far. Didn't leave so much as a partial print."
Both turned toward the kitchen, Sara emerging from the back with a dish in her hand. "Hey, Cath. Didn't hear you come in."
"Looks good. Maybe with you around, Grissom will finally have a vegetable more than just once a week now."
Sara and Catherine exchanged a mischievous glance, Grissom frowning. He turned to Lindsey, who looked on in curiosity. "Lindsey, when you grow up, don't be like these women. They're nothing but trouble, if you ask me."
Catherine objected in mock surprise. "Grissom!" She turned to Lindsey, her tone gentle. "Don't listen to him, Linds. He's just a typical male, all opinion and no evidence." With that, Catherine began to walk toward the front door, Sara placing the dish on the coffee table, now standing next to Grissom. Catherine turned back, her mood now somber. "Thanks again. For looking after her."
Sara nodded. "No problem. See you tomorrow." Catherine nodded before disappearing from the doorway. Grissom moved to the door, closing and locking it, before turning back to Sara.
"So, is that what you think too?"
Sara walked over to Grissom, her arms finding their way around his neck. "Think what?"
"That I'm just a typical male?"
Sara wrinkled her brow, looking up as though she was thinking of an appropriate response. When she was satisfied, she looked back at him. "You're anything but typical, Gil." Grissom smiled at her words, Sara beginning to move away from him. "Dinner's ready, by the way."
Unfortunately for her, she never got the chance to disengage, Grissom's arms encircling her waist, pulling her back to him. "I'd rather take you in the bedroom, if it's all the same to you."
Sara smiled playfully, her arms once again finding their way around his neck. "Tell you what. You at least finish the lasagna, and you can have me for dessert."
Grissom grinned, leaning closer to Sara. Before their lips met, Grissom whispered, desire evident in his voice. "You've got yourself a deal."
To be continued