Sunday Morning Memories
A/N: This chapter is a little bit longer than the others. I'm afraid I kind of rambled, so I'd appreciate it if someone would just let me know if it totally sucked or if it was okay. Thanks!
Disclaimer: All errors, whether CSI based, spelling or grammatical, are mine. I do not own CSI, never will, wish I did.
"Something has got to be done about this."
He smiled vindictively. "You're so right, Sir. I never would have told you if I didn't think that you'd make the right decision!"
"Who did you say you heard this from, Conrad?"
"I overheard CSI Willows and CSI Brown discussing it in the break room, Sheriff."
"Thank you, Conrad. You can go on home now."
Ecklie rose from his cushy chair and reached across the desk to shake Sheriff Mobley's hand. After Ecklie exited the room, the Sheriff picked the telephone up off its receiver. He had an important call to make.
"I missed you earlier." She leaned in and kissed him gently. Her fingers traced a pattern across his lips. He grasped her wrist and kissed the tips of her long, delicate fingers.
"He wants to see me in my office? Why?"
"I don't know, Gil," responded Catherine. "But he sounded pissed."
Grissom shook his head, "When isn't he pissed at me?"
He took a seat behind his desk and turned to his computer. Pulling up his personal e-mail account, he found several messages waiting for him. One from his mother , another from SSIDLECSILV.PD.NEVADA , Sara, and of course the usual spam.
He scanned through his mother's e-mail quickly, making a note to send her a reply later. His cursor, in the shape of a beetle no less, slid quickly across the screen and clicked on the e-mail from Sara.
Gil,
How's work going? I wish I could be in tonight to help. Of course, SOMEONE WHO WON'T BE NAMED HERE, made me take my night off. Like there's anything for me to do. They don't even show good movies at 2 a.m.
Have you finished the Simmers case yet? Catherine was supposed to get the tox screen back on the father. Oh here I go, talking about work again.
Just wanted to drop an email by and check up on you. -)
Love you,
Sara.
Gil leaned back in his chair and smiled. Trust Sara Sidle to brighten up his day…
…until Sheriff Mobley walks into the door with an angry expression on his face.
His arms snaked around her waist. He pressed his hand against her stomach and planted a kiss upon her neck. She shivered as his teeth grazed her earlobe. Turning, she looked into his eyes and smiled. Their lips met. Her tongue pried its way into his mouth and explored every part of it. Her hands traveled up his back, squeezing the muscles along the way.
Grissom broke the kiss and began working his way down her neckline. Soft, faint kisses fell across her body. Sara un-tucked his shirt from his jeans and ran her nails lightly over his stomach. He quivered as her fingers came into contact with his bare skin. His body responded accordingly. He scooped her up and laid her gently on the couch.
Grissom gave him the warmest smile he could muster.
"Can I help you with something?"
Without being asked to, he plopped into a chair.
"From what I've heard, Gil, you're a smart man."
Grissom sat in silence.
"You've led the lab to the second best in the country, you've brought in these young kids and gotten them all to CSI level III, a side from Sanders."
"No, Sheriff, they've pushed themselves to be at level three," he corrected.
"Well, you certainly make a great supervisor. I've heard great reviews from everyone. You're great at decision-making…Usually," Mobley replied. "Gil what possessed you to jeopardize your career like this?"
Grissom could feel a small knot forming in the pit of his stomach.
"What are you talking about?" he asked innocently.
"I'm talking about your off-the-job-behavior."
The knot grew larger.
"I have a lot of behaviors off the job, Sheriff Mobley."
The sheriff rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about the relationship between you and Miss Sidle."
The knot worked its way up into his chest and began to choke the air from his lungs.
"I wasn't aware it was a crime to befriend a coworker, Sir."
"I've recently found out that you and your CSI are dating, Grissom, am I right?"
Grissom gave an internal cringe. "Yes, Sheriff, but I don't see what business it is of yours," he replied acidly.
"Dating your co-workers or employees is an infraction of the rulebook. Do you know how we penalize this infraction?"
The large couch accommodated them both. Grissom stared down into Sara's chocolate brown eyes. His fingers pushed past the hemline of her tiny, purple tank top. He laid his head against her stomach and placed a kiss on her navel. She chuckled, and Grissom smiled against the cool skin of her abdomen.
Greg looked bizarre. He'd seriously over done it this time. As usual, his hair was standing at attention. However, the usual flaxen follicles were no longer completely blonde. The tips of his hair were dyed bright pink. Sara couldn't help but grin. Some people might even say she was grinning maniacally.
"And why did you do this again, Sanders?"
He smirked. "I think it looks sexy, Sara. Don't you think it looks sexy?"
"Yes, Greg. Looking like a pink pineapple is definitely a turn on for me."
"I so do not look like a pineapple!"
Sara just smiled and resumed the task of highlighting each phone call to Mrs. Simmers from Audrey Brown. The case had been an odd one. Apparently Audrey, the baby sitter for Mr. and Mrs. Simmers children, had become obsessed with Mrs. August Simmers. After being fired from her job as their babysitter, she became bitter and had stalked the Simmers relentlessly. Despite the Nightshift's beliefs that she had killed the husband in a rage of jealousy, they'd yet to find enough evidence to send her to trial.
"Sara?"
Uh oh. She had planned on him NOT knowing that she'd come into work today. "Hi
Gi…uh…Grissom."
"I thought I told you to stay home tonight," He stated. His eyebrows were pinched together, frown lines formed at the end of his mouth.
"You did. I kinda got bored at home…err my home."
Greg looked from the anxious expression Grissom was wearing, to the sheepish appearance of Sara. They both looked as if they'd taken a long ride in a southbound elevator. This amused Greg to no end.
After what seemed like hours of Grissom staring at Sara and Sara staring at him, Grissom finally managed a, "Can I see you in my office?" followed by a ragged breath.
Mutely, Sara rose from her swivel chair and followed the Nightshift supervisor toward his human terrarium.
Grissom took a seat behind his desk and pointed his hand in the direction of a chair. Sara remained at her usual post by the door. She looked defeated.
"I'm sorry. You know I can't stand to stay away from work, Gil. I get bored at home without you."
He sat in silence for minutes after her apology. Leaning forward onto the desk, he sat lost deep in thought. Finally, his eyes rose to meet hers and Sara had a sudden feeling she knew what was coming.
"There's no easy way for me to say this."
Her body tensed as she braced herself for his next statement.
"We can't see each other anymore, Sara."
The tears fought their way forward, but Sara's pride pushed them back. There'd be time for crying later. She stood rigid, her eyes boring into his. "How come?"
"Mobley found out," Grissom sighed gloomily.
"Well, what did he say?" she asked.
"He said that a supervisor dating their insubordinate is an encroachment of the rules and punishable by the dismissal of said supervisor."
She felt behind her for the door handle, ready to make her escape. Her eyes shut tight. When she opened them again, she saw Grissom shuffling through papers on the desk.
So he's just going to give up everything we achieved just like that. I really thought I knew him…I guess I'll never know him.
"So instead of telling Mobley to hell with him, you're going to tell me to end our relationship?" She inquired icily.
Grissom exhaled noisily. "It's not like that, Sara. I love you. I do. I just…I can't lose my job over this. I want it to work but it can't. I knew it couldn't from the start."
Her eyes blazed with vehemence. "The why the hell did you even play this game with me, Grissom? Why did you do this? Do you take pleasure in making me think that everything is fine and then slicing my throat?" Sara demanded.
She was certain the tears were going to fall as hard and fast as ice in a hailstorm. It surprised her when they never came. She'd shown him her vulnerable side before, but in an instant every door they'd opened together snapped shut and locked. Grissom's silence conveyed a message Sara didn't care to hear. She yanked the door open and stormed from his office in a blinding rage.
The soles of her sneakers pounded against the pavement. Ragged breaths of air came and went quickly from her chest. She ran hard and fast, trying her best to let the anger flow from her mind through her body and out her toes. She jogged the stairs to her apartment building, turned into the hallway that connected 2A and 2B, and stopped in front of her door. Sliding the key into the lock and pushing the door open, she was happy to return to the small yet comfortable living room.
The walls were painted a deep, rich purple. Various pictures and paintings garnished them. A large houseplant sat in the corner next to the window. Her beautiful, vibrant Orchid was placed atop the windowsill, waiting for her to water it. She turned into her kitchenette and opened the fridge, bedecked with photos of the crew, friends and family, and reached for a bottle of water.
Sara sat at her computer desk, trying desperately to push the thoughts of Grissom to the back of her mind. Sighing, she opened her Internet browser. Clicking the link for Google, she decided she would need something stimulating to help dull the ache of the effect of the injustice of the evening.
She scanned through the different articles featured Perfectly Stored DNA in 1,000 Year Old Skeleton
She quickly skimmed the article over. Sara clicked the 'Send to a Friend' link and Greg was sure to find that interesting.
Fingerprints: Today's TechnologyShe reminded herself to print that for Warrick. Perhaps he could inform the website of his miraculous 'air print'.
Finding nothing of interest, Sara leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She had to admit, she was exhausted. She was thankful it had been her night off. That was the only reason why she felt absolutely no guilt about leaving the lab after her discussion with Grissom.
Rising from her chair, Sara decided it was time for a shower. She didn't know why, but the steaming water always helped her to clear her head. She stripped and pushed herself past the shower curtain. The water pounded against her skin and her thoughts turned quickly back to Grissom.
She pondered his sudden decision. Did she really mean less to him than his precious job? If that was the case, why had he even decided to pursue her? Sure, their relationship had been great, but she was sure that she would have been a lot more content with standing idly by and watching him from the sidelines, rather than getting into the game only to be knocked unconscious by a flying hockey puck.
Hockey. She groaned. Somehow, everything related to Grissom. She couldn't work with him any more. A decision had to be made, and fast.
He peered at her over the top of his file. She knew instantly that she was going to hate working for him. She had hated him the minute she saw him. He was a pompous asshole with no respect for anyone.
"Sidle, why is it you want to work for the dayshift?" Ecklie asked.
She paused for a moment. She had to think of something other than, 'I can't stand the sight of Grissom without being able to touch him'. "I don't feel that my needs are being met or that I am able to reach my full potential on nights." Then she added, "Sir."
"Hmm." He leaned back in his chair, his chin resting on his fingertips. "I recently found out that you and your supervisor were involved in a romantic relationship. Is this so?"
She sighed inwardly. "It was. Grissom and I are no longer…involved," she finished lamely.
"Mm-hmm, and can I expect you to fraternize with any of your co-workers on the dayshift, Sidle?" He asked critically.
Oh sure, Ecklie, I just hop into bed with every little CSI I meet.
"No."
"Okay," Ecklie replied whilst signing his name at the bottom of her transfer slip. "You start Wednesday at seven. Welcome to dayshift," he stated rather inhospitably.
Gee, thanks, an opportunity of a lifetime! You, Miss Sidle, have won a free ticket to hell in a hand basket!
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
Sara left his office as quickly as possible.
Present
Sara sat, processing the thread in front of her. The red fiber she'd taken from the victim's mouth outside of the Bellagio belonged to the interior of a 1995 Toyota Camry. The victim's boyfriend, Tommy, owned a 1995 Toyota Camry. Sara had also found blood from her victim in the Persian rug of the hotel room that the couple was sharing. She had this one in the bad.
Ah, how she longed for the challenging cases she was given when working under the supervision of one Gil Grissom. She had asked Ecklie before when she was going to receive something that took a little bit more thought. He had simply retorted with, "If you don't like it, you can go back to working nights."
It had been a month since she'd switched from nights to days. She could still hear Greg and Nick's protests, Warrick's indifference, and Catherine's feigned sadness. She kept in touch with the boys, all but Grissom.
Grissom. She had rarely seen him. He had called every now and then, but Sara refused to pick the phone up. This was his screw up. He could fix it when she was ready to let him. If she was ever ready to let him.
"Sidle, Tommy Malone is at P.D. Let's see if we can get a confession out of him," Ecklie commanded. His voice startled her out of her reverie and she silently cursed his name for what seemed to be the three thousandth time.
She followed behind him. He could be a total asshole sometimes, but he was great at getting a suspect to confess. She just hoped his hardcore tactics would do the job today.
Pulling a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, she cocked her head to the side and studied him. He looked away. Catherine had always know that Gil hated to be watched, which is what caused her to peer at him so closely. He was a mysterious figure, a puzzle waiting to be put together. Catherine loved puzzles.
It occurred to her that he looked haggard. In fact, she'd noticed his appearance had gone downhill since Sara's decision to change shifts. He looked as though he got little sleep, at least less sleep than the tiny amount he normally got. His beard was growing scruffier daily, as though he decided that there was no one he should keep is trimmed for. For a man as attractive as he at forty-eight years old, he seemed to look about fifty-eight.
She told him so. "Thank you, Catherine. Next time I need an insult, I'll give you a call," he retorted.
Knowing that she hadn't angered him and hadn't really hurt his feelings either, she pressed on. "Does this have something to do with microscope, Gil?"
He looked up from the Bird's Eye View form in front of him. "What?"
She shrugged. "You know…that discussion we had awhile ago, the one about you lifting your head up from the microscope every so often. Did you try that?"
"Mm-hmm," he replied nonchalantly.
"And how did that go?"
He gave her a scathing look.
"Right. I figured as much. So what happened? C'mon, Gil. Greg saw you two in the parking lot. We know you were involved."
He narrowed his eyes. "You were having discussion about my…activities outside of work?"
"Who doesn't?"
"Well, now I know how Mobley found out."
Catherine frowned. Had he over heard her discussion with her fellow CSI's, she wondered. "I'm going to guess he threatened Sara's job."
"No," Grissom replied. "He threatened my job."
Catherine's eyes bulged out of her skull. "Your job? Why wouldn't he fire Sara instead? Wait…Gil…you didn't do what I think you did, did you?"
Grissom raised his hands palm up in a question.
"You didn't dump Sara to keep your job?"
Grissom nodded. "Yes, I did. It's bad enough I was foolish enough to put my job on the line in the first place. I should never have-"
"You should never have given Sara up for that! God, sometimes I think you're the stupidest man I've ever met!" Catherine exclaimed. When was Grissom going to learn anything about human beings aside from their internal organs? "She probably isn't returning your phone calls. You are trying to call her, right?"
"I've tried. No, she won't pick up the phone. Are we done here, Catherine?"
Catherine shook her head. "Do you think it's too late, Gil?"
"Too late for what? For me to beg her forgiveness? Yes! Sara's not that kind of person. She doesn't let things like this go easily, Catherine."
Catherine sighed in frustration. She pulled a pen and paper from his desk, knocking files and forms askew in the process. Grissom just rolled his eyes at her. "Here." She scribbled down a name and address. "You dated her, you should know what she'll like. It's not too late, Grissom. It's not now and it probably never will be."
She rose from her chair and exited the office. Grissom sat alone thinking over the discussion he just shared…or rather the one sided conversation he had just endured. He had thinking to do, and he needed to think quickly.
Boxes littered her apartment floor. Sara stared at the spaces where things had once stood. Her furniture and dishes were still in their places, but her items such as photographs, paintings, the television, and DVD/VCR combo Nick had given her for Christmas were all placed neatly in boxes. She had given Ecklie her two weeks notice yesterday.
After a week of working in the lab without Grissom, she realized that the only way to escape the hold he had over her was to leave the lab completely. Too many things in the Las Vegas Crime Lab reminded her of him. The layout room, where they'd gone over several important pieces of information, the place where she had asked him to pin her down, (she had felt the energy running through his fingers and into her skin that day,) his office, where they shared many important discussions, including the one that has caused her to make this decision.
In the end, it occurred to her that moving was going to be harder than originally imagined. Starting over in a new place would be torture. She would miss her usual banter with Greg and Nick, the shy glances and flirting that David sometimes shared with her, and her very rare moments of female bonding with Catherine.
Most of all, like it or not, she would miss Grissom. He had been her source for inspiration. Any anger she had toward him had fuelled her to finish her cases with a terrifying tenacity. He had shared his gift of intelligence with her. For that, Sara was grateful. She had learned things through her experiences working with him that she knew she never would have learned at any seminar.
Sara loaded assorted books into a box. She stared at the covers, remember how she had read and enjoyed each of these thoroughly. There were a few authored by Mary Higgins Clark, Patricia Cornwell, and Max Allen Collins. Her favorite amongst the group however, was the Entomology textbook Grissom had given her for Christmas. His smile had been warm and welcoming as he passed the book into her hands, apologizing for the lack of wrapping paper.
Her heart had thumped loudly in her chest when their fingers brushed. In fact, she could remember it so well that she swore she could hear the beating of it now. She looked up, startled by the loud thumping.
Suddenly, Sara realized the banging she could hear was coming from her front door. Her front door? Who would come to call at twelve thirty at night? She rose from the kneeling position on the floor that she had taken when packing her stuff away, and carried herself to the door.
She looked through the peephole. Her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected him to be her midnight knocker.
Sara slid the chain from its catch and turned the knob. Pulling the door open, she stared into the face of the last person she wanted to see. Gil Grissom stood in front of her, a bouquet of Marigolds, Tulips and Daisies in clutched in his hand.
"Hi."
A/N: Guys let me know if you want me to end it here or write more. Thanks.