Author's Note:
This is the 4th installment in the Feasibility Study series. "Second Chances"(15 chapters), "Batting a Thousand", "Management Issues" and "How Much Longer?".
(18 chapters total and originally FS 37-54).
"Second Chances - Part 1"
August 7, 2005 (Day 107)
The Grissoms'
7:34 a.m.
Sara was still asleep when Grissom returned carrying a breakfast tray. After placing it on the dresser, he walked over to the bed and sat beside her, taking a minute to watch the gentle rise and fall of the comforter over her chest. She looked beautifully serene and secure…just what she needed to be and it pleased him to know he provided the safety and comfort she deserved.
She looked so peaceful he hated to wake her, but he needed to discuss Brass' job offer this morning because oddly it was her day off, but he had to go into the office to catch up on paperwork. Paperwork, or the future lack of it, was exactly the reason he couldn't wait to talk to her about switching jobs. "Sara…" Gently, he brushed her hair off her face. "Wake up, Honey."
Moaning, she rolled on her side and curled tightly into a ball.
Trying a different approach, he slipped under the blanket and curved his body around hers. "Good Morning, Sweetheart," He whispered in her ear.
"Mmm…" Slowly her eyes batted open and she realized she was in her husband's arms. "You're out of money and my shift is over."
"What if I said I just returned from the ATM?" He joked as he kissed her cheek.
"I'd say go to Freemont Street and find another working girl…maybe one who needs help with geometry."
"If you insist." He rolled away pretending to leave.
"Notice how I don't care?" She didn't move from her comfy position.
"I brought you breakfast."
"Now I'm interested." She bolted up. "Oh…" Realizing she didn't have anything on, she asked, "Could you toss me one of your t-shirts too?"
Before retrieving the tray he grabbed a gray t-shirt from one of his drawers and threw it on the bed.
Now that the sleep was out of her eyes she saw what he had on…grey sweats, a navy t-shirt and sneakers, which he never wore. "Are you wearing work-out clothes?" After pulling the t-shirt over her head, she sat back against the mahogany headboard.
"Four miles on the treadmill," He proudly announced as he brought her breakfast tray. "And speaking of good health…strawberries, orange juice, cereal and your pre-natal vitamin." Placing the tray over her lap, he smiled, "All high in folic acid."
"Aww." Reaching for her juice glass and vitamin, she beamed. "You're taking care of me."
"Symmetry, remember? I'm returning the favor, because you certainly took care of me last night."
"Did I?" Coyly, she asked, "If I did how come you woke up early and had enough energy left over to walk four miles?"
"You left me invigorated." Picking up a strawberry, he brought it to her mouth. "I thought Boom Boom in the limo was the epitome of eroticism, but Boom Boom as Carmen…combining two of my favorite things…opera and sex…let's just say, I really couldn't be much happier this morning."
"I'd say anytime but, I wouldn't mean it." Laughing, she poured the milk in her cereal bowl. "Boom Boom staggers her performances for dramatic effect, and to prevent the law of diminishing returns from kicking in."
"Which is fine with me because frankly…I couldn't handle her nightly." He recognized a good segue when he heard one. "Speaking of nightly…I have something important I need to discuss with you. Brass made me a job offer that I don't think we'll want to refuse."
"Really?" Lifting her bowl off the tray, she chomped while listening.
"He wants me to leave the night shift supervisor position. He's created the non-administrative role of Master Criminalist to help bring the lab back up from number three and wants me to take it."
Choking on her cereal, she asked, "We're number three? Who's number two instead of us?"
"LA."
"Oh, Honey…that has to hurt."
"Yeah…I'm still bleeding." Taking a deep breath, he shrugged off the disappointment. "Anyway...since there has never been a Master Criminalist position, I get to create it with Brass. I can choose things like leading the most challenging cases, training the staff on the latest advances, performing quality control and revisiting cold cases. I'm really looking forward to the change. Jim said to talk to you about what shift you want to work and then I can build my hours however I want."
"Wow…I kind of miss nights because the lab is much quieter at night but…I like working with Nick and now that the team has turned a corner, I think I'll stay where I am." Wrinkling her nose, she admitted the truth. "I love Catherine as a friend but, I think it would be a bitch to work for her."
"Imagine if Warrick has to? Anyway…back to me. Another good thing about this new position is it would lead to a lot of opportunities to publish and lecture which always helps the lab's reputation."
"And yours." She placed her empty cereal bowl on the tray. "You'll finally have a title that matches your top dog status. You have to love that. As your proud wife, I know I do."
"It's interesting to hear you say that." He lifted the tray and carried it over to the dresser. "When Catherine and I were trapped in the building and talking to keep our minds occupied, she commented that my ego appreciates me being 'top-lab guy, top-bug guy and…on-top-of Sara guy'.
"Funny…I don't recall you being in that particular position last night."
"That's because I'm saving the traditional for next week." Laughing, he rejoined her in bed. "Don't you remember our nosy neighbor Blanche's advice…don't get fancy, missionary is best."
"And prop my hips so the little swimmers don't have to fight gravity." She grinned. "And take cough syrup. You know I never forget anything. Actually, I bought some Robitussin when I stocked up on healthy food the other night."
"Tell me you're not serious? Wives tales? Two scientists are going to resort to wives tales? Our PhDs might be revoked."
"Au contraire...it's not superstition, it's pure science. Guaifenesin, the main ingredient in Robitussin, is an expectorant, and it is commonly used to thin mucous in the lungs when you are congested, but it also works on the cervical kind…giving the swimmers a less combative journey."
"I'm tracking you." Nodding, he remarked, "And I suppose the other two tips are in line with the principles of gravity so, maybe Blanche is a scientist after all."
"I wouldn't go that far. When she came by the other night with her noodle kugel, which was excellent by the way, she also told me to keep a broom by the back door to sweep away evil spirits of infertility."
"Please tell me you're not going to do that."
"No." She gave a quick laugh. "But, I was thinking we should try a role-play…it's the 1950s, the rhythm method is the only available means of birth control, our love is forbidden and it's my first time, because that always did the trick in clichéd B movies. When I was fourteen, I was in this home for a year with a nice older woman, Mrs. Kearny, and she loved watching sappy movies. Used to bawl her eyes out. I'd be curled up in a chair reading, but I'd get sucked in every time. Now that I think about it, she's why I got into sappy movies. Hmm…I have to remember that for Dr. Myers. Anyway…I remember one in particular that always busted up Mrs. Kearny, A Summer Place. Unbelievably tame compared to today's PG-13 movies, but I guess it was shocking back then. Have you ever seen it?"
"No…missed that one somehow." He rolled his eyes.
Suddenly she was on a philosophical rant. "It had to be scary being a single, sexually active woman in the 50's male dominated society…no reliable method of birth control, you were stigmatized as loose if you got caught…like Rizzo in Grease. Oh and worst of all…backwoods abortions, like that poor girl in Racing with the Moon or Penny in Dirty Dancing."
"Dirty Dancing?" His ears perked. "I didn't know you…"
"Down boy…it's PG-13 and they dance with their clothes on."
"Oh."
"Speaking of dancing with clothes off…think of Tawny and Greg's situation. Sure, it's been rough, but no one is really going to make a big fuss over it in 2005. But if it happened in the 50s…all hell would be breaking loose."
Sitting in his car down the block from his son's house, Ron Grissom waited for the right timing. Should he approach them both? Just Gil? Just Sara? And when? Good timing wasn't something he always had…
Cowering in a chair across from his father who was authoritatively sitting behind an impressive oak desk, Ron broke the news.
"Sir I…I have something to tell you. I know it's not what you want to hear but I…"
"Out with it," Arthur Grissom snapped as he impatiently waited for his eldest son to get to the point. "Are you here to tell me you'll be receiving another B?"
"No, Sir. I'm pulling straight A's this semester." He gripped the arms of his chair tighter. "I uh…I need to get married."
"Excuse me?" The gruff businessman leaned forward staring his son down. "You need to get married?"
"Yes." Finding the courage to continue, Ron enthused, "She's a wonderful young lady. Gifted in the arts and very well read."
"What's her name?" He asked while his blood simmered.
"I was planning on asking her to marry me as soon as I finished my master's, so it's really only a couple of years earlier than…"
"Her name…"
"Jillian."
"Her last name."
He gulped for air. "Cleary."
"You knocked up an Irish Catholic girl!" Arthur stood until he was looming over his wayward son. "You're a disgrace to the family. You need to eliminate this problem, finish your education and return here ready to assume your position in the company, and when you do…you will marry a girl who fits in this family. Do you understand?"
Unable to look into his father's disapproving eyes, Ron quietly said, "I'm…in love with her."
"How sweet." Arthur slammed his fist on the table. "Then hold her hand while taking her to get rid of the baby, buy her a Coke afterwards and then kiss her goodbye!"
"No!" Ron protested. "A girl from school died last semester doing that! And Jillian would never…it's my baby too and …"
"Are you sure?" He snarled.
"Yes!" Incensed, Ron jumped to his feet. "How dare you insult her honor! Didn't you hear me? I love her. I'm doing the responsible thing. I'm not taking her to some butcher! It's out of question."
"Then so is your place in this company."
"Fine."
His son's impetuousness fueled his ire. "Until this problem is resolved, I'm cutting you off financially. That includes tuition and living expenses. I'll want your car back too."
"Fine!" Diving into his pocket, he retrieved his keys and threw them on the desk.
"You go through with this and you'll lose your trust fund."
"I don't need your money." Ron stood a little taller. "I'll get a job and do this on my own."
Pulling a cigar from his desk, Arthur Grissom laughed at his naively idealistic son. "Let me guess…you'll go out and make a million dollars just so you can tell me to go to hell."
"No." Seething with anger, Ron stood to look his callous father in the eye. "I'll tell you right now…go to hell!"
As he stormed towards his father's office door, he heard him cackling. "Aaron, you'll be back once you start living on white bread and mayonnaise sandwiches!"
"Don't hold your breath!" Throwing open the door, Ron marched past his father's secretary and then ran out of the building. When he reached the city park, he finally stopped running and took a seat on a bench. Panting, he dropped his head in his hands while the significance of the scene in his father's office overpowered him.
With no money, no car and no job, how will we survive? How could I let this happen to us? He asked for the hundredth time. If we stay here, Jillian's reputation will be ruined. We need to leave. We need to go someplace no one knows us. We'll go to California, I'll get a job and find us a place to live and we'll raise our child.
Staring at his son's expensive house, Ron smiled, thinking…you've come a long way, Gil and I had very little to do with it. When Jillian and I brought you home from the hospital, you slept in a drawer in a tiny one bedroom apartment.
Greg's Apartment
7:52 a.m.
Walking though his front door, Greg balanced a tray of coffee and a bag of muffins. "Tawny?" He called out as he placed the breakfast items on the kitchen counter. "What the?"
Pages and pages of solved algebra problems were strewn all over the counter along with printed sheets from the Internet math site he had bookmarked for her. "Unbelievable," He remarked as he realized she had breezed through quadratic equations online tutorial.
Holding one of the pages, he walked towards the bedroom. "Tawny?"
When he walked into the room, he saw her curled up in his bed clutching the extra pillow. Just like he had done in the past, he wanted to crawl in bed next to her and greet her with a flurry of kisses that would inevitably lead to something wonderful. Then he remembered the bag of muffins on the kitchen counter and berated himself. Couldn't you take her out to breakfast for once in your life?
As he turned to leave the room, he tripped over a box and crashed into the wall. "Ow!"
"Who's there?" Tawny snapped up and scanned the room. "Oh…thank god it's you!"
"I'm home," He sweetly announced while rubbing his forehead. "I was coming to tell you, great job on the Algebra." He held up the sheet of paper. "I was just heading to the kitchen to find a red pen so I could draw a big star on it and leave it on the bed."
"You were so right!" She bounded out of bed to throw her arms around his neck. "It is like riding a bike! I didn't forget."
"I told you." He wrapped his arms around her and within seconds of feeling her warm skin and the satin of her revealing pink baby doll pajamas, he felt a familiar urge. "Um…I was thinking…we should go out for a breakfast and celebrate your math success."
"Really? Out?"
"Yeah…out for a nice breakfast…no, brunch! It's Sunday after all." Yeah…brunch was much more meaningful. His guilt dissipated quickly. "Why don't you hop in the shower while I change into something nicer?"
"This will be so much fun! I'll get in the shower right after I grab a glass of water." She started for the door. "My throat is dry."
"No!" When he saw her surprised reaction, he smiled to cover his motivations. "I…I want to get it for you."
"Aww. Thanks for thinking of me." She beamed with delight. "Just leave it on the counter outside the shower, okay?"
"Sure." He nodded while watching her enter the bathroom.
Once he heard the shower running, he hurried into the kitchen to grab the trash can from under the sink. Snatching the bag of muffins off the counter, he tossed them inside then raced to the door to dispose of the evidence.
Crime Lab
9:30 a.m.
Sitting in his office, Grissom dialed the number Jim had left on his voice mail.
"You're always so punctual," Brass answered in a cheery tone.
"You sound happy this morning."
"I'm a very happy boy." He snickered. "Last night my travel companion lost a bet that we've had going since we left Vegas."
"Don't you mean, Lady Heather?" Grissom laughed.
"Oh, so you did believe me?"
"I believe you have a twisted sense of humor," He clarified. "Who is she really? Is it that woman we met while processing the spa at the Mirage? I knew she had her eye on you."
"No, it really is Lady Heather. Here…I'll put her on the phone because she and I have talked about an issue at length recently and she has something she wants to tell you."
"Jim, I'm really too busy for practical jokes and I…"
"Mr. Grissom…"
The voice was an exact match. "It really is you?" He gasped as he sat back in his desk chair.
"I wanted to say I'm very sorry for being such an insensitive bitch to Sara. Your wife has nothing to do with the ill feelings I harbor toward you. She shouldn't pay because you were a spineless, judgmental, asshole who turned a deaf ear when I tried to explain my innocence."
"Uh…" It wasn't easy hearing the truth. "I…"
"I'd approach Sara myself but I fear, based on my previous deplorable behavior, she wouldn't let me get a word in. So would you tell her…if she gives me a chance, I'd love to apologize in person and assure her I will never behave that way towards her again."
"Um…well…I'm confused." Still thrown by the fact he was talking to her about this, he scratched his head. "I mean, what's the point? When I apologized to you, you told me apologies are just words."
"Coming from a man like you, they are just words, but coming from me an apology has meaning. Thank you in advance for passing my message to Sara. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a spa appointment, so I'll put Jim back on the phone."
"I'll see you later, Heather." Jim's sunny voice boomed through the receiver. "I feel a hell of a lot better now, don't you? So what did you decide about the job?"
"How long has this been going on?" He quizzed while still coping with the surprise.
"Since after the incident when you were at the bug freak convention. Shocking! Hey, we're cool with this, right? Cause I don't want any weirdness."
Grissom pondered the situation carefully. "Well, it is a little weird considering we're friends and I..."
"Hey, it's not like Greg has a problem with you sleeping with Sara after he had her."
"What!"
"Just busting your balls. I know the thought of Sara with another man has always turned your stomach." Jim riotously laughed. "Okay, so tell me Prince Charming, what did you and Snow White decide?"
Anxious to end the bizarre phone call as soon as possible, Grissom cut to the chase. "I'll take the position and Sara will keep her spot on Days. We both thank you for giving us our life back. And there's no way in hell I'm passing on Lady Heather's message because Sara will know I spoke with her and then I'll have to explain why so she doesn't get jealous. When I tell her why, she'll be really pissed at you for not telling her because she thinks you were her hero that night and believes you can't stand Lady Heather." Rubbing his right temple, he sighed, "Sara…she has a bit of a temper regarding betrayal. You need to tell her about the two of you before I can tell her about the apology."
"Good point. I'll handle it first thing when I return because unlike you…cough…Tahoe...cough, I'd never intentionally hurt Sara. I'll be in the office tomorrow."
Hoping to close the subject once and for all, Grissom griped, "She's forgiven me for that, can't you?
"I'm a much tougher sell because I don't need you to keep me warm at night. We both know you lucked out with Sara because she was needy and vulnerable. Any other woman would have told you to go to hell. Heather would have escorted you there in chains!"
Covering his face with a hand, he groaned, "You can stop talking now."
I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Sweetie."
Staring at the receiver, he placed it back on the cradle. "Yeah…I've had my quota of shocking news for one day."
The Squash Blossom Restaurant
10:05 a.m.
At a quiet table in the garden café of the resort, Greg sat across from Tawny studying her…the thick golden hair cascading over her shoulders, the depth of her dark brown eyes, and the delicate curve of her beautiful smile.
"My French Toast was wonderful, how was your omelet?" She asked in a chirpy tone.
"Great." Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his. "I'm really glad we went out. We need to go out more often…on a budget of course."
"It may be hard with our crazy schedules," She sighed. "I was thinking, maybe instead of working at the Cheesecake Factory, I should get a job cocktailing in a high end place. The money would be so much better and…"
"Noooo."
"Why?"
"Because of the perverts, that's why." He placed his other hand over hers. "You've had enough men leering at you and tossing money your way to last a lifetime, okay? Although my job has made me acutely aware that filthy freaks are everywhere, the odds of running into them in the middle of the day at The Cheesecake Factory are a lot slimmer than working in a bar in the middle of the night. We'll be fine as long as I max my overtime every month at the lab. And in a year, barring any major screw-ups, I'll move up to a CSI 2 and get a raise. Worse case, if things get tight after the baby, I can ask my dad for a loan."
"Thanks for wanting to protect me, Greg." Her eyes darted from his soulful eyes to his parted lips and she wished he would cover the distance between them and kiss her.
"Everyone deserves to have someone looking out for them." Standing up, he kept holding one of her hands. "I don't need change so we can go."
"Yeah…" She stood. "You must be getting tired."
He pulled out his car keys. "A little. Why don't we stop and rent a movie on the way home?"
"That would be fun."
Hand in hand they walked out of the restaurant and through the resort bar.
"Sanders!"
Greg heard his name coming from the bar and when he turned he saw Hodges and his equally obnoxious buddies Craig and Denny.
"Friends of yours?" Tawny inquired.
"No. I work with one of them. He's a jerk sober…drinking he's even more offensive. We'll just say hello real quick to shut him up and then beat it." Walking over, Greg nodded. "A little post-shift decompression?"
"When you work hard, you play hard." He raised his green bottle in celebration. "So Sanders, aren't you going to introduce us to your…cousin who is obviously obligated to be out with you because there's no way a woman this gorgeous would go out with you unless you paid her."
"Maybe he is paying her," Denny cracked.
"Not funny." Greg gave Tawny's hand a supportive squeeze. "This is my girlfriend, Tawny Cooper."
She was pleased that he officially introduced her as his girlfriend. "Hi."
"Wait a minute." Craig pointed at the girl. "I recognize you."
Tawny froze, suddenly remembering why they all looked familiar too.
"You worked my cousin's bachelor party at Tweeters. July 2nd, I remember you, Baby. It was a couple of days early but I distinctly remember seeing fireworks in the VIP room with you."
"Oh…my…god." Hodges couldn't believe his luck. "Greggy's girlfriend gave me a lap dance."
Like deer watching an eighteen wheel truck barreling toward them, Greg and Tawny stood frozen.
"So, Greggy," Hodges elbowed him. "Do you have to keep a wad of bills handy when you're out with her, or does she give it up for free if you take her to brunch first?"
"Shut the hell up." Greg batted his arm away. Never considering this particular scenario, he felt completely off guard.
Reaching for his wallet, Hodges pulled out a twenty. "Come on, Baby. Shake your tail feather for me."
"You son of a bitch!" With an ability he didn't think he had, Greg landed a perfect right hook to the side of Hodges' nose, sending blood spatter flying through the air. "Holy shit!" He was stunned by the result and took a moment to admire his success.
"Greg, don't!" Tawny screeched as she covered her mouth with her hands.
The bar patrons halted their conversations to see what would happen next.
"You bastard! You broke my nose!" Hodges lunged toward his nemesis and a second later the two of them were wrestling on the floor knocking over chairs and beating the crap out of each other.
Several older women walking through the bar to the restaurant screamed when they saw the two men and their blood stained shirts.
"Excuse me, Tweety." Craig guided Tawny out of the way. "We have to help our pal and put an end to this embarrassing geek duel."
"Please don't hurt Greg!" She screamed as she grabbed Denny's hand, holding him back. "Uh…I can get you free passes to Tweeters and a lap dance with The Raven!"
That got Denny's attention and brought the fight ratio down to a still unfair two against one.
Craig bent over and grabbed Greg by the elbows. "Okay, buddy, take your best shot while I've got his arms."
"You're not fighting fair!" Tawny yelled as she released Denny's hand and kicked Craig in the ass. "If I had my stilettos on you would have been sorry!"
Just as security flew around the corner, Hodges landed a solid right jab to Greg's jaw, sending him crashing down on the hardwood floor.
In horror, Tawny watched the guards scoop Greg and Hodges off the ground and when they snapped handcuffs around Greg's wrists she started to cry.
"Come on children," One of the guards announced, "LVPD will be waiting out front to take you for a ride to the station."
Hodges groveled as he squirmed in the cuffs. "We are members of the LVPD."
The security guard snickered. "Maybe not for much longer. I'm sure the cops will call your supervisors."
Picking up Greg's car keys, she called after him. "Greg, I'll meet you there!"
The Grissoms'
11:00 a.m.
A little under an hour ago, cradling a few home décor magazines, Sara walked through the unrenovated bedrooms of the house trying to decide which would make the best nursery. The first choice, across from the master suite, had the best natural light and, after careful consideration of the other three choices, she selected it for that reason.
Next, she fanned out the magazines…cheery ladybugs, whimsical butterflies, snuggle bugs, garden bugs and construction worker ants. Sure it was putting the ant farm before the ant but, she couldn't resist planning.
It had been a while since she played designer. The therapeutic need for her doctor mandated hobby had become less and less necessary as she gained confidence in herself and her relationship. But as soon as she started, she remembered the joy it brought her.
Now, forty-five minutes later, she had plotted out the entire room and written a love note to her husband.
Setting down her pencil, she decided to grab a drink before beginning the physical prep work on the walls.
When she reached the hallway, the sound of the doorbell startled her. Then she recalled Blanche insisting on stopping by around eleven o'clock with another platter of fattening food, hoping to assist in making her hips baby-worthy.
Upon peeking through the peephole, she confirmed it was indeed Blanche and Doris as well. "Hi, Ladies," Sara greeted, hoping they would leave the tray and run. "Blanche, the kugel was fantastic. Thank you."
"Today we brought you some zucchini loaf and macaroons to nosh on."
"Great." Sara accepted the tray. "But please, I insist you stop going to this trouble."
"It's no bother, it's our mitzvah for the day," Blanche assured her. "What else do we have to do except gamble, play matchmaker at the club and fatten up your tush?"
"How flattering…I made the top three." Retreating inside, she said, "Thanks again, Ladies."
As she walked to the kitchen, she couldn't deny the zucchini bread smelled fantastic. Placing the tray on the counter, she peeled back the cellophane and snagged a thick slice. "Mmm."
The doorbell rang once more and she hurried to swallow her bite so Blanche wouldn't get encouraged upon seeing she hadn't wasted any time scarfing the goods.
Grabbing the doorknob, she plastered on her best smile. "Really, Ladies, you are too sweet but…"
Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the man on her doorstep. It was as if Gil had gone to work and come home twenty years later. "Oh my god. Are you…?"
"Sara…I'm so happy to meet you." Nervous as hell, he forced his best salesman's smile. "I'm Ron Grissom…Gil's father."
Crime Lab
Grissom's Office
11:05 a.m.
Grissom was furiously filling out paperwork when his office phone rang. Without checking the display, he huffed, "Grissom."
At first he kept completing the form in front of him, but when the words on the other end of the phone registered, he dropped his pen and removed his glasses. "What? Why? Felony or misdemeanor?" Lowering his head, he asked, "Which police station? Yes…I'll be there in ten minutes. Thank you for the courtesy call."
As he hung up the phone, he grabbed his car keys. "Damn it, Greg!"
Rushing down the hall, he made a beeline for Nick's office. "Nicky!"
"Where's the fire, Gris?"
"Can you get Carrie to meet me at the police station on Harmon? I need a legal consult stat."
Without hesitation he grabbed his cell phone. "For a case?"
"A head case actually." Grissom informed him. "Greg's in lockup for disorderly conduct but they may bump it to assault, in which case he'll lose his job."
"Sanders fighting? Who was he fighting?"
"Hodges. He's in lock up too. My lucky day, huh?"
"Hodges? I know there's no love lost between them, but a fight?"
"It's complicated." Grissom felt his blood pressure rising. "Just have Carrie meet me there, okay? My day started out great, but I keep getting blindsided by the unexpected. I don't need anymore surprises, so please keep things under control here while I'm gone."
"You got it." While watching Grissom hustle out of the office, he punched in Carrie's code. Luckily he only had to wait two rings before hearing her vivacious voice. "Hey, Baby…feel like doing a little pro-bono for a charity case today?"