"Repercussions – Part 5"

August 5, 2005 (Day 105)
The Grissoms'
5:46 a.m.

When Sara entered the bathroom suite, she saw Grissom, clad only in navy blue boxers, looking vexed as he stood in the middle of the room.

"Something wrong?" Sara asked as she tossed her hair out from the collar of her fitted teal blouse.

"Huh?" He glanced in the direction of her voice.

"You look a little lost." Walking over she stopped in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Are you worried about going into work today after the newscast?"

"No. I'm in shock because..." He rolled his eyes. "…I just weighed myself. I used to be 175 pounds!"

"When I met you at Berkeley? Probably."

Flabbergasted, he said, "I gained thirty-five pounds since you met me and you didn't tell me?"

He left her no choice but to laugh. "Oh, when should I have squeezed that in? Before or after I asked you out to dinner and you shot me down? If you recall, you weren't always receptive to my communication attempts! Besides…it's not something I cared about until it became a health issue yesterday." Changing her voice to a seductive rasp, she gave him some good news. "You've always been a sexy scientist to me." When his face lit up, she demanded, "Now kiss me like you did on TV last night, because I haven't left for work yet and I already miss you."

While they were getting lost in the lust of their lip lock, the doorbell rang.

"Nick," Sara grumbled. "He's giving me a ride to work, remember?"

"But before he does, let's nail him for setting up that damn interview." He hustled out of the bathroom. "Wait for me to throw on some clothes and we'll answer the door together."

While he got dressed, she reviewed her appearance in the mirror because she knew all eyes would be upon her after last night's telecast. As she smoothed her hands over her black pants, she wondered what angle the gossip mongers would take today and she questioned whether her teammates who seemed genuine yesterday had, like Cinderella at midnight, turned back into their old selves again.

The doorbell rang once more.

"I'm ready," Grissom announced as he pulled the gray cotton t-shirt over his head. "You want to read him the riot act, or do you want me to handle it?"

"Let's tag team him with a little good cop from you and then I'll smack him down with my bad ass cop."

When they opened the door they saw Nick standing there with a bag of Krispy Kremes and a tray of coffee.

"Hey you two. I brought breakfast!" He proudly handed the bag to his colleague. "Gris, I got your favorite…crème-filled glazed."

"Gee, thanks." He passed the bag of forbidden food to his wife. "Wrong way to suck up today, Nicky."

As she burst out laughing, Sara thought…so much for my bad cop face.

"Look…" Nick began to grovel. "Really…I had the best intentions. I had no idea that news shrew caught you guys mashing and gushing on camera. For what it's worth, Carrie and I act the same way all the time." When groveling didn't work, like his favorite childhood hero, Spiderman, he started spinning. "By the way…you guys are pretty hot together, you know that? Yeah…all those rumors about your relationship like, is Sara a gold digger? Is it a marriage in name only? Can they get their freak on? Pretty much put to rest, right?" When he saw their dagger eyes relent slightly, he spun a little more. "Yeah…today everyone knows you're a stud, Grissom. And Sara…instead of thinking he's your Sugar Daddy, they know you really love him. Do you know how long it would have taken for those rumors to stop churning? Hell, four minutes of TV coverage accomplished six, maybe nine months of hard work to change perceptions. It's okay…you don't have to thank me. I'm just glad I could help."

Sara stared at her longtime friend. "I think that's some of the best bullshit I ever heard."

Grissom concurred. "Are you sure that Brass isn't your biological father?"

Shaking her head, Sara posited another theory. "I think it's from hanging around all that manure on his parents' ranch in Texas."

Nick held up his arms. "Hold up. When you go to work today, if you don't feel better instead of worse about how people think of you, I'll eat my ten-gallon hat."

"With no steak sauce?" Sara inquired, fully prepared to shove the hat down his throat whole if need be.

"No, ma'am, I'll eat it dry."

Vancouver BC

The Sutton Place Hotel

6:09 a.m.

When Jim Brass checked the clock on his nightstand, he groaned, hoping it would be later. After all, what was the point of waking up early when you were alone?

"So…" Brass murmured as he held Heather's hand, walking her to her hotel room. "I had a lovely time."

"Me too," She replied through a satin smile. "The best."

When they reached her door, he eyed her fuschia painted lips with desire. "Here we are…at your room."

"Yes." Curling her fingers around his jacket lapels, she pulled him in for a long, hard kiss and when she was done she encouraged him with her eyes and said, "I do hope we can see each other again tomorrow. Good night, Jim."

The look on his face drove her wild.

"Uh…sure…" He struggled to regroup. "Lunch and sightseeing?"

"Sounds wonderful." Retrieving her hotel key card from her purse, she winked. "Until then."

"Until then," He sweetly replied while cursing her for this latest twist. Of course there was always the secret word he could utter…or shout…to end the game but, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of breaking him down. "Good night."

Tossing his legs over the edge of the bed, Jim rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, while thinking…after I take a leak, I should probably turn on my phone and check my messages since I have six hours to kill.

The Grissoms'

6:12 a.m.

When he entered the kitchen, Grissom saw the pile of stuff he had dumped on the kitchen island upon returning from the hospital last night…discharge paperwork, reading material, his coveralls...

The coveralls! He lunged for the pocket, retrieving its precious contents…maggots in a vial. "Hello there." He was pleased to see them still usable. "Got DNA?"

Without thinking, he headed for the garage and once there, realized he didn't have a car. His was at the station and he was supposed to be home resting from yesterday's ordeal until Sara picked him up at noon. Turning on a dime, he made a beeline for the kitchen and specifically the house phone, but before he could even pick it up, it rang.

Upon checking the caller ID he saw it was Brass and snatched the receiver. "Look who finally decided to check his messages. When I was temporarily doing your job I had my phone and my pager on twenty-four/seven in case of emergencies, and need I remind you that was at the beginning of my relationship with Sara. At a minimum you check your messages twice a day. It's part of having the big job…that's why I didn't want it!"

"You're okay! I was wading through my messages to see if anyone important called and when I got to Sara's message, I listened and what the hell happened?"

His voice ripe with irritation, Grissom replied, "I wouldn't want to bother you with work stuff while you're on your secret vacation with your mystery lady."

"Stop being a girl and tell me!"

As requested, he barked into the phone, "Catherine and I were in the basement of an old building working a triple homicide when the whole thing toppled on us. We were trapped for nine hours but we're both fine. Sara had a nervous breakdown in the process and called you hoping you could get the rescue moving faster and give her a few encouraging words. She really needed you but, don't worry, we did fine without you. Nick took over as acting Assistant Director and did one hell of a job so…if you want to stay wherever you are, don't feel guilty."

"Thanks for the absolution, Father. I'll stop by St. Mary's and say a rosary for good measure. Seriously…I'm sorry I didn't check my messages sooner. I'm relieved that everyone is okay. Can we make up now? I'll bring you back a souvenir from my trip."

"Not a good way to suck to me," He grumped. It was exactly what his asshole father used to do as bribery. "How about this…you tell me your plan for a work arrangement for Sara and me. I don't want to wait until you return."

"Really? My little speech that prefaces my idea might not sit well with you."

"Try me." He leaned against the counter.

"In reality, because you're a Land Baron, neither you nor Sara has to work."

"This is your big plan?" He rolled his eyes. "Telling one of us to quit?"

"Patience, grasshopper."

"Fine. Go ahead."

"Neither of you have to work, but being the freaky geeks that you are, you feel compelled to keep working, so that led me to thinking…money is of no object as long as you have a job you love, right?"

"Right." Now he was intrigued.

"And in order for you to love your job, ideally you have to work with the best cases and do the least amount of administrative crap possible, correct?"

"Yes, but you said I wouldn't like your speech."

"I'm getting to those two items."

"Two?" Grissom decided to move to the living room and sit in his favorite overstuffed arm chair. "Okay…I'm sitting."

"Do you want the bad news about you first? Or the bad news about the lab first? Not that there's much of a differentiation."

Without hesitation he chose. "The lab."

"We've fallen to number three in the country."

"What!" Incensed, he leapt out of the chair. "Who passed us?"

"Los Angeles."

"No! Anyone but them!" Having his former workplace take the lead was a knife in the heart. "How!"

"I warned you it wouldn't be pretty. It was all Ecklie's fault…you know his priorities were much different than yours."

Devastated, he crashed on the couch. "Yesterday I find out I'm overweight, old and at risk for a cardiac incident if I don't make some serious lifestyle changes and now this…"

"Hey, thanks for that great segue into point number two." Brass chuckled through the phone.

"Huh?"

"You're pushing fifty, pal. Isn't it about time you started thinking of doing something a little different? Let someone else have your crappy job so you can do something that suits your vast intellect and utilizes your talents in the best way possible."

"You know, Nick already laid a pretty thick layer of bullshit on me this morning so cut to the chase."

"Here's my recommendation…I want to remove you from your supervisor position and put you over the CSIs in a non-administrative technical capacity and have you work with me to bring the lab back to where it was. Think high level stuff like working the difficult cases that will get us notoriety; training the lesser-qualified to be more like you so we have the best staff; performing quality control so if we miss something, we learn from our mistake; revisiting cold cases that should have been solved. You can design it and take it in any direction you need to get the lab back to where it needs to be. And you would also have more time for publishing, which automatically ups our reputation. And even though I know you're not ego driven, I was thinking of the title Master Criminalist? Like that?"

"Do they have one of those in LA?"

"No."

"I like the title." He took a moment to breathe in air and the idea. "How did you get this in the budget? We can't even fill the open positions we have."

"Yeah…that's where we circle back to my original comment. The one about money not being important since you're rolling in it."

"You want me to work for free?"

"No, that wouldn't be right or legal. You keep your benefits package but I knock your salary down to minimum wage. Trust me…the Director knows he's getting a deal and isn't complaining."

"What about Sara?"

"She can choose to return to Graveyard or she can stay where she is. I guess it really depends on when you want to work or who she wants to work for, Nick or whoever you promote in your place. But hey…I know you, you need time to absorb all this and talk to Boom Boom, right?"

"I'd say I'll call you with questions or a decision but you'll have your phone off." He shook his head. "When I had you over a barrel I should have asked you who your mystery lady was."

"It's Lady Heather."

"Very funny." Sighing, he said, "Give me some time to think all this through and we'll talk later." With that he clicked off the phone. "Master Criminalist? I do like the sound of that."

LVPD
Crime Lab
6:19 a.m.

Nick and Sara entered the building together, each waiting to have their theory proven. Sara was certain last night's broadcast would catapult her discomfort at work to a whole new level. Nick was sure that the news story would relieve the pressure that Sara had been feeling over the last week.

Unfortunately for Nick, the first person they bumped into was Hodges.

"Hey, Mrs. Grissom," Hodges sniped. "I saw you giving mouth to mouth resuscitation to your husband on TV…I don't recall being taught the tongue maneuver when I went for my re-cert last month. Besides, didn't they have an EMT on the scene to handle that? Or did you have a problem with your ex-boyfriend sucking face with your hubby?" Snickering, he walked out the door.

Sara glared at Nick.

"He is not representative of the majority," Nick groveled. "He's not even representative of the human race."

"Whatever." Sara headed for locker room with Nick on her heels.

"Sara!" Theresa called out.

When she turned she saw Mabel and Theresa walking her way. "I hope your ten-gallon hat is in your locker Nick because…here come the next two torpedoes."

Theresa placed a hand on Sara's shoulder before candidly speaking. "Mabel and I just wanted to say that we were so happy to hear that Grissom was okay. We followed the story the whole time and our hearts were breaking for you when you thought he was gone."

"Yeah…" Mabel lowered her head and, as the priest had instructed her at confession last night, she made penance. "We also want to apologize for any rude things we said about you and your husband. I know we didn't say anything to your face but…we said a few…okay a lot of things behind your back and we're really sorry. It was obvious from watching you on TV that you're not a gold digging, sleep-my-way-to-the-top sorta gal."

Nick puffed out his chest. "So you ladies are saying that based on Sara and Grissom's TV appearance last night, you changed your mind about the relationship?"

"Definitely." Theresa nodded vigorously.

Beaming, he turned to Sara. "What do you say about that?"

"I accept your apology, Mabel and Theresa."

"Thanks. Have a nice day." The two women walked outside to the smoker's patio.

"See it wasn't so bad to eat crow," Theresa told her friend. "Sara looked genuinely happy."

"Yeah…" Mabel lit up her cigarette. "…of course she did. I'm sure she got some action from Mr. Double Digits in Eight Days before leaving for work this morning. Hey…I wonder if they were saving it up until they got married, that's why all the action."

"We'll never know."

"Sure we will." Mabel took a long drag. "They said on the news that it took five years for the two of them to get together, right? That coincides with Grissom's weight gain."

"He gained weight because he wasn't having sex?"

"Right!" Sucking hard on her cigarette, Mabel said, "When people aren't getting laid they orally fixate. You know…they eat a lot."

"I've heard that." Theresa puffed vigorously on her Virginia Slim.

"So…if we suddenly see the weight melting off Grissom, we'll know."

"Ahhhh." Theresa nodded. "But what about the beard?"

Greg's Car
6:46 a.m.

On the way to work, holding his jar of maggots, Grissom filled his chauffeur/DNA specialist in on the plan. "It might take a while to recover evidence from the accident site but, if we can match the DNA from a maggot to the blood found on the suspect's boot, we'll have no problem holding him. When we get to the lab, we'll head straight to DNA and you'll get to work processing these guys. I don't trust anyone else with this."

As he turned a corner, Greg graciously said, "Thanks, Boss."

With business out of the way, Grissom changed to a personal tone. "You uh…you're looking calmer this morning. Sara was worried about you last night. She'll be happy to see you're doing better."

"Well…" Greg shrugged. "I have a plan, but I wouldn't say I'm doing better."

Grissom didn't pry, figuring if Greg wanted to release more details he would and a minute later they came.

"First of all…you were right about Tawny. She does have a story, although I only know parts of it. Maybe you could help me try to piece it together from the details I give you and from the standard profile for girls like her?"

"Sure." He settled back to listen.

"Here's what I know so far. She ran away from home when she was sixteen with some older guy, not sure how old. He took her to Vegas and dumped her shortly thereafter. She didn't return home because she felt it wasn't safe. At seventeen she started stripping to make ends meet."

"Know anything about her father? Could he have…"

"Just last night she mentioned him and thinking what I'm sure you're thinking, I asked her…did you and your father get along? She lights up and says they had this great relationship, but just as quick she saddens and tells me he died when she was fourteen. What do you think?"

"Well…it's very typical of girls like her to have an absent or abusive father. The fact that he died when she was fourteen is very telling. Unlike someone who loses their father at a younger age, her loss coincided with end of puberty so, when she looked to fill her loss with male companionship, the guys most likely sexualized it. Considering sexuality was new to her it would be easy to become confused. If she was feeling vulnerable and alone she most likely took whatever attention she could get. Her running away with an older guy really solidifies the theory. Obviously she chose the wrong guy." He glanced at Greg. "I'm not insinuating it was a reflection on her intelligence…she was young and desperate. She was looking for someone to protect her from whatever it was that left her feeling unsafe. When people are desperate they often make choices they wouldn't make under normal circumstances and, as we know all too well, there are plenty of creeps out there selling a good story to girls in situations like Tawny's."

"Any theories on what made her feel unsafe?"

"If I were investigating, my next question would be did the mother have a boyfriend or remarry after the father died? I'm thinking once Tawny hit puberty she turned a lot of heads. Maybe one of them was the new man in the house. Initially she could have liked having him there as a father figure and got close to him in a non-sexual manner, but then he crossed the line and she panicked. Maybe she even told her mother but the mother didn't believe her story. Remember the Blake case? Not that I want to bring up his name but…when Wendy told her mother that Mike Rodgers raped her and killed her sister, the mother didn't believe her…her mind wouldn't let her believe it. What did Wendy do?"

"She bolted."

"Because home was no longer safe and she wasn't supported by the one person she thought she could count on."

"Makes me sick just thinking about all this and all the stuff we see at work. The longer I do this job the more I start to think my happy childhood was an anomaly."

"Not an anomaly but, more unique than you thought." Considering every member of his team except Greg had childhood issues, it was an anomaly. "So, you said you had a plan?"

"Right." He snapped back from the depressing thoughts overtaking him. "I couldn't stomach the thought of her stripping anymore, so I told her to quit and move in with me."

Raising his brow, Grissom asked, "I understand why, but don't you think you're rushing things a bit asking her to live with you? Just yesterday you told me you didn't have feelings for her. Trust me…living with someone is an adjustment. Sara and I were already in a relationship and knew each other for years and it was still a little stressful. The two of you barely know each other and…"

"You know what I make and I've blown all my money on this car and electronics. I can't afford to put her up in a place."

"She doesn't have anything saved up? I mean, she's been working top clubs for a while. She doesn't have a drug habit, does she?"

"No. Thank god. I know this is hard to believe, but she's kind of fastidious about her body. Her place is always spotless too. Kinda weird considering she's been gyrating on sweaty guys for years. "

"She can't control that environment, so she controls what little she can in her personal environment. Makes sense to me. Like an anorexic who feels she can't control her exterior world so she controls the one thing within her grasp."

"I suppose." He sighed. "Anyway, to answer your question…yes, she's pulled in some bucks but she spent her savings on silicone…you know, reinvesting in Tawny Inc., and although she did well stripping, she spent it as fast as it came in. Trust me, I watched her pack her clothes and shoes…I've never seen so many shoes."

"Makes sense...material possessions make her feel better about herself…probably makes her feel successful when she's failing at everything else. Remember, it was my Bvlgari bag that made her change her mind about stripping privately for Catherine and me when we met her at the Cheesecake Factory."

For the first time in a while, Greg laughed. "That sounds so messed up. Especially after watching you and Sara get it on last night."

"Now…that sounds very messed up to me. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think I'd hear you say you were watching Sara and I…get it on. It's bad enough you saw us sleeping in the same bed."

Laughing harder, Greg said, "I'm happy for you Double D."

"Double D?"

"It's short for Double Digits in Eight Days. It's a great rap name for you." Greg flicked on the radio. "Speaking of music…time to further your education."

"When I was trapped in that building, it horrified me to know the last song I might ever hear was that garbage you played me."

"Chill out and catch this righteous vibe, Double D...and feel free to jam."

His fingertips massaging his temples, he moaned, "I should have taken a cab."

LVPD
Crime Lab
6:57 a.m.

When Jas saw Sara walking into the conference room, she rushed over. "I take one day off and look what I miss! I'm so glad everything turned out okay."

"Thanks." Sara nodded, appreciative of the friendly face and honest comments. "Did you catch it on the news last night?"

"Yes." She averted her eyes. "It felt a little odd seeing you guys um…"

"Tell me about it!" Sara chuckled. "I've never seen myself kissing him either!"

Nick walked in just in time for Sara's comment. "Maybe you should install some mirrors on the bedroom ceiling?"

Sara didn't bat an eye. "Nah, I'm thinking video cameras in each corner of the room so we can tape and watch ourselves over and over."

While laughing, the three of them took seats.

"What's so funny?" Pete asked as he bounded into the room followed by the rest of the team. "You guys wouldn't be talking about last night's news report, would you? About our boss singing our praises?"

"Suck up," Trey groaned.

Nina exclaimed, "Sara! You have to fix me up with Dr. Ortiz! What…a…stud! Did you have a chance to feel his muscles?"

"No." Sara grinned. "But Grissom has his home phone number." He had given it to Grissom in case the lab ever wanted him for consultation. "I might be able to convince him to give it to me."

Pete bust out laughing as he plopped in a chair. "If my girlfriend kissed me like you kissed your husband, I'd do whatever she wanted."

Trey sneered, "Yeah…first you'd actually have to get a girlfriend."

"That's okay, Pete," Jas replied after winking. "Trey has to get a personality before he can even think about getting a girlfriend."

Nina smiled approvingly at her co-worker. "Nice barb!"

"Thank you," Jas gushed, feeling good about finally fitting in and tossing a successful joke.

Pete flashed a grateful smile. "Thanks for covering my back, Jas."

There was something about the way Pete said her name that sent a delightful flutter through Jas. "Anytime."

Like a proud papa, Nick sat at the head of the table. "We're starting to have that nice dysfunctional family feel I'm used to from Grave, right Sara?"

"Definitely."

"Hey, Sara…did you see the front page of the newspaper this morning?" Pete inquired. "Somebody's telephoto lens got a real nice shot of you and your hubby reuniting at the accident site."

"Great." She dropped her head in her hands. "What's next? People posting on some Internet Message Board about our relationship! Ugh!"

DNA Lab
7:08 a.m.

Greg watched as Grissom painstakingly sliced open a maggot and extracted a sample.

"Got it?"

"Yep." After sliding his stool away from the counter, he peeled off his latex gloves. "You're up." He stood and headed for the door. "Bring me the results as soon as you have them."

"You got it, Double D."

"Stop calling me that." He left the DNA lab and headed for the conference room where Nick held his daily morning rally. Once there, he opened the door and interrupted the meeting. "I have an update on the Harper House case."

"Romeo is all business this morning," Nina commented in Trey's ear.

"What are you doing here?" Sara chided. "You're on leave."

"I feel fine."

"The County says you're not supposed to be here. How did you get here, anyway?"

Nick's lips curved upward. "Do you want us to step out while you argue about this?"

Ignoring his wife protestations, Grissom took an open seat at the table and excitedly informed the group, "When I pulled maggots out of my pants this morning I ..."

Instantaneous laughter rattled the glass-walled room.

Shaking his head at Sara, Nick quipped, "Damn, the two of you are into some freaky shit. And they made you seem so normal on the news!"

"He's referring to maggots from the case!" Sara announced as she stared at her bug loving husband. "Right?"

"Yes, I had them in a vial in my coveralls." Folding his arms across his chest, he waited for Nick's team to regain composure. "This is still my case even though you guys caught the suspect but if you don't want to work together I'll be more than happy to take all the glory."

Sara warned them. "When he gets territorial it's best to appease him."

Nick knew the truth in her statement. "You have the floor, Gris."

While he sat there staring at them, he thought, once I'm the lab's Master Criminalist I'll make them kiss my ring like the Godfather if they need something…except Sara of course, because the rules have always been different for Sara. "As I was trying to tell you…prior to the building collapse I collected maggot samples from Jane Doe One. Maggots, when they feed on the corpse, ingest the victim's DNA. I have Greg in the lab processing a sample right now. I want to see what you've compiled thus far so we know where we stand once Greg has the DNA results from the maggot. First I want a run down on the suspect. Then I want to hear about the blood evidence and any other trace evidence you found. Next, tell me…"

And while Grissom was leading the charge in the lab, someone somewhere, was reading about him…

Every time he got the chance to access the Internet, he always checked the same web page first…The Las Vegas Review-Journal.

Every time he typed in the website address, he felt a familiar twinge as he waited for the news page to materialize. Would there be any news about the Las Vegas Crime Lab today? Any news about him? About Gil Grissom, Las Vegas' top Forensics man? Anxiously, he rubbed his hands together as he waited.

Most days there was nothing and he moved on to other cyber interests.

Some days there was a blurb…a sentence that mentioned Gil's name in relation to a case, but nothing that gave him information or made him feel anything.

Every once in a while there was an article and Gil would be quoted saying something intellectual. He imagined hearing his voice, hearing the air of superiority he was certain was there. He couldn't help feeling a little jealous because he knew what it was like to be on top of his game, and he missed the rush. He'd never get his chance again but Gil…he still had plenty of time.

Back in March of this year, there was even a photograph of him at a crime scene near Lake Mead, something to do with bugs. When he saw it, he noted Gil looked the same as the last time he was in the paper in October 2004. The headline was etched in his memory…Gil Grissom Opens Investigation on UNLV Death from 1981. The article went on to say how Gil cracked the case wide open. His look in the photo was smug.

Most days there was nothing.

Some days there was a blurb.

Every once in a while there was an article.

Today he hit the jackpot.

Today he got an article, a photograph and something he had never seen mentioned before…personal information on Gil Grissom. And when he read the words underneath the shocking photo, they blew his mind...

Gil Grissom and his wife of eight days, Sara (Sidle) Grissom were reunited just after four p.m.