"Second Chances - Part 2"

August 7, 2005 (Day 107)
The Grissoms'
11:07 a.m.

The shock of Ron Grissom's presence siphoned the blood from Sara's face because, although he was standing before her alive and well, he was a ghost. "You're dead to him," She coldly informed the trespasser. "Forty years have passed since you last saw him…since you dropped him off at the curb, lied to his face and drove off into the sunset. You have no right being here. You may call yourself his father but, Gil doesn't have a father. He hasn't had one since the day you chose to walk out the door and abandon him. So turn around and do what you do best…disappear. Because I won't let you hurt him again."

In the few minutes he'd spent with her, Ron knew two things…Sara loved Gil with all her heart and she, like Jillian, wasn't a woman who would be easily swayed. "I know…"

"Why are you here! Why now?" Turmoil brewed within her as anger and curiosity vied for control. "Are you dying of a brain tumor and want to clear your conscience? Do you need a kidney or some bone marrow? Or is it money? If it's money you need, I'll write you a check for whatever amount you want as long as you promise to leave and never come back again!" Her eyes glowing with anger, she screamed, "Just tell me your price!"

"Please…I don't want anything. Well, truthfully I'd love a glass of ice water because I've been walking around for an hour trying to get up the courage to ring the bell." With the back of his arm, he wiped the sweat of the 112 degree day from his brow. "But to allay your fears, I have enough money to play poker with Bill Gates. I don't need an organ donation and I'm not dying…I already tried that twice with two massive heart attacks. I have the scar of a triple bypass to prove it."

Flashing from rage toward the father to concern about his son, she asked, "You have heart disease?"

He saw the worry in her eyes. "Does Gil?" He found it hard to believe after watching him ride that pulse-pounding rollercoaster the night before.

"You don't get to ask questions." Stepping back she cleared the way for him to enter. "Just like in the interrogation room at work…I'll do the asking. You'll do the talking. And if you cooperate, I'll provide you the water you requested."

"Thank you for giving me a chance," He gratefully announced as he stepped inside his son's home.

"Make no mistake..." Forcefully she shut the door. "…I'm not giving you anything but a glass of ice water."

While absorbing the atmosphere of the beautifully decorated home, he replied, "I'll answer whatever you ask."

Marching toward the kitchen, Sara tossed out the first of a thousand questions taxing her mind. "When did you have your first heart attack and what caused it?"

"In my early fifties I developed serious hyperlipidaemia and hypertension…caused by a horribly indulgent diet and an obsession with my work. One day I received a phone call delivering some distressing news. A couple of hours later I was in the hospital having my heart jump-started." Stopping in the center of the massive and well-appointed kitchen/living room combo room, he remarked, "You have a lovely home. Did you use a decorator or…"

"I ask the questions, remember?"

"Sorry for the slip." He augmented the apology with a smile.

Retrieving a glass from a kitchen cabinet, Sara walked to the fridge. "One bad phone call was all it took?" Placing the glass under the ice maker, she filled it with cubes.

"I wasn't prepared for the news." Lifting Sara and Gil's wedding photo off a shelf, he somberly said, "The call informed me that my ex-wife, Gil's mother, was killed in a car accident."

Clutching the glass of ice water with her two trembling hands, Sara walked it over to the unnerving guest. "Why was that upsetting to you? I find it hard to believe that a man who walked out on his wife would be so overcome with emotion he'd keel over."

"That's because you only know Gil's version of the story." Carefully he placed the photo back on the shelf. "And Gil only knows what his mother told him or didn't tell him." He accepted the glass of water she was holding. "Thank you."

"Did you come here to…"

"No, I didn't come here to change my son's perception of his mother. She's no doubt a heroine of mythic proportion to him and that's how she needs to stay. No matter how she contributed to the downfall of our marriage, she raised our son to be an outstanding man under very difficult circumstances. And as much as I despised her in the end, I never stopped loving her. The last thing I want to do is tarnish her in any way."

"How could you abandon someone you love?" Adamant in her belief, she shook her head. "No…you're lying."

After taking a sip of icy beverage, he said, "She was a fan of Shakespeare…quoted him all the time."

Sara's lips unconsciously curved as she thought like mother like son.

"The course of true love never did run smooth." He smiled at the memory. "She would say that quote every time we hit a bump. You see, our marriage was…did Gil ever tell you about our marriage? Sorry…I know I'm not supposed to ask. It's just…I don't want to say something in particular if he doesn't know."

"All he knows is that you walked out the door, filed for divorce and got yourself a new family. What more does he need to know? The only other thing he's ever mentioned is you got married in a church."

"Hmm…so I guess Jillian never went back on our promise. I always figured she did and blamed me."

"Wait a minute." Sara read the man's eyes. "Blamed you? Are you saying…Gil wasn't planned? You weren't married when…"

"The course of true love never did run smooth. He was our first bump but please understand, although he was unplanned, he wasn't unwanted."

Taking a seat in her husband's favorite chair, Sara ordered, "Tell me more."

"Very well." He sat on the edge of the couch. "I first met Jillian…"

LVPD
Police Station
11:20 a.m.

It wasn't the first time Grissom was summoned to assist an employee in trouble with the law. As he stepped into the station, memories of Sara's DUI came flooding back.

"Grissom!" Sergeant Davis prompted the Crime Lab Supervisor when he saw him approach the desk. "This way. I have them in an interrogation room instead of lockup."

"Thanks." He checked his watch. "I have someone meeting me here. Her name is Carrie Blake. Could you make sure someone at the desk escorts her to the room?"

"Will do."

"Mr. Grissom!" Tawny rushed over and grabbed his arm. "Please don't fire Greg!"

"Calm down, Tawny." He noted her eyes were wide with alarm. "I'm only here to get the facts."

Upon hearing the purpose of his visit, she gushed the details. "One minute we were out having a nice time and then we ran into that creep Hodges and his nasty friends. Everything was fine until the guys recognized me from a bachelor party they attended at Tweeter's. Greg was thrown when Hodges announced he had paid for a lap dance with me at that party. And when Hodges took out his money and propositioned me, Greg went nuts and slugged him. You see…it's all my fault, not Greg's. If I wasn't an embarrassment to him none of this would have happened. I'm a stripper, this kind of thing happens all the time. I can't expect guys to respect me when…"

"Hey! Low Self-esteem Girl! You need to stop talking in front of the nice police sergeant right now!" Carrie snapped as she stowed her car keys in her briefcase. "No offense, Sergeant…" She glanced at his badge. "…Henderson, but we both know how the game is played."

"None taken, Counsel."

"Carrie…" Grissom was grateful she made it so quickly. "This is Tawny, Greg's girlfriend. Tawny, this is Carrie Blake, she's an attorney and a friend of Sara's."

Carrie smiled at the scared girl. "Sorry for yelling at you, Sweetie but loose lips lose cases and nothing sticks in my craw more than a girl who thinks she deserves to be abused by men." Softening her voice, she told the shaken girl, "But we'll get to that later. Let's focus on Greg right now, okay?"

"Okay."

The Sergeant regrouped. "So Grissom, you supervise both Sanders and Hodges?"

"Yes."

"Maybe I should call in the Assistant Director for impartiality."

"That would be me. I'm covering for Jim Brass who is on vacation."

"All the shit is rolling down your hill today, huh?" The sergeant laughed.

"Yeah." Turning to Carrie, Grissom instructed. "Why don't you get Tawny's story while I speak with the sergeant and my employees? Then we'll compare notes."

"Sounds good." Carrie put her arm around Tawny's shoulder and walked her away. "How about I buy you a cup of really bad police station coffee?"

As ticked as Grissom was at Greg for getting into this mess, after hearing Tawny's explanation he couldn't help but admire him for standing up for the mother of his child when she was vulnerable. Not every man would. Certainly not his own father.

The Grissoms'
11:40 a.m.

Sitting in the overstuffed chair with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, Sara listened to Ron Grissom's story. It was the stuff clichéd B movies were made of and her suspicions were high.

"Why should I believe any of this? You're the same guy who told his son he'd call and visit but never did." Her gaze narrowed. "You're hardly a credible witness."

"And you must be very good at your job as a Criminalist." Reaching into his pocket, he produced physical evidence. "I brought photos."

"Photos?" Her curiosity flowed stronger. "Of?"

"Jillian and I…of the early years…of Gil as a baby and a boy." He extended the envelope. "I took them with me when I would go away on business for long periods of time. Jillian used to stick new ones in my briefcase and I kept compiling them." Sensing both her desire and reluctance, he said, "You can look at them free of obligation." He reached further so she wouldn't have to make much of an effort to take the envelope.

Having never seen a photo of her husband as a child, and considering how Gil was the spitting image of Ron, she couldn't resist the opportunity to glimpse what her future baby might look like. Once the envelope was in hand, she quickly reviewed the photos.

LVPD
Police Station
11:40 a.m.

Sergeant Henderson opened the door of the interrogation room for Grissom. "Can I trust you to control these two so I can let my officer out of the room?"

Stunned by the damage to both Greg and Hodges's faces, Gil sighed heavily. "Yes."

Once the door was shut, Greg lowered his head. "I'm really sorry, Grissom."

Hodges, holding an ice pack to his broken nose, snarled, "You'll be even sorrier when you're rotting in jail for assault."

"It will be worth it!"

"Enough!" Grissom pulled out the chair at the head of the table. "I want to hear both of your stories without interruption. David…you first."

"All I did was state a fact," Hodges calmly explained. "His girlfriend gave me a lap dance back in July. Sanders obviously felt embarrassed and went psycho. I didn't even provide details…like how she did this thing with her breasts…"

"Screw you, Hodges!" Greg shouted. "You see what he's doing, don't you, Gris! He's trying to set me off again!"

"Stop! Greg…you're in enough trouble already so please…keep quiet." Grissom held up his hands. "And you, Hodges, I only want the relevant facts regarding the altercation."

"Like I said…" In total control of his emotions, he stared at Greg while speaking to Grissom. "He didn't like the idea that I knew his girlfriend's body up close and personal so he assaulted me in an effort to shut me up. I was innocently exercising my first amendment right to free speech and I was not misrepresenting the facts in any way. You're my supervisor and I'm officially informing you that Sanders has an anger management problem. I'm sure I'm not the only guy who knows his girlfriend is a stripper. What if he's in the field with his gun and someone brings it up? What if he has his weapon and sees me and decides to exact a little revenge?"

"You know if he gets charged with a felony he loses his job, right?"

"He should have thought of that before he slugged me. After I leave here I have to go to the ER and have my god damn nose re-broken and set!"

"I hope it hurts like hell, you son of a bitch!" Greg snapped. "You publicly humiliated my girlfriend by shoving cash in her face!"

Grissom jumped up from his seat and opened the door. "Hodges, please step outside and take a seat on the bench for two minutes."

"Sure, Boss." Hodges grinned in spite of the searing pain of his broken nose. "I'll be waiting."

After slamming the door, Grissom marched over to the table and blasted the hot-head slouching before him. "You won't do Tawny or the baby any good if you are unemployable. You've been acting so responsible about this whole thing and now this? Would you please comprehend the gravity of the situation! The hot dog stand on Main won't hire you with a felony conviction! So stop thinking of your precious ego and shut the hell up! Inciting Hodges isn't going to make him rethink the charges."

"But he…"

Empathizing, Grissom pulled up a chair. "I get it, Greg, I really do…he's an insufferable prick who disrespected the mother of your child. While that's true, I can't fire him for being an asshole outside of the workplace but I'll have to fire you if you get charged. So please…deal with your emotions in silence in deference to the more important matter of keeping your ass out of jail and employed. We use the constraints of the law every day to nail people but this is the flip side…he can use the same constraints to nail you. When he returns to this room, I want you to sit at this table and keep your mouth closed unless I ask you a direct question. Got it?"

"Yes." He finally lifted his gaze. "Thank you for the attitude adjustment."

"Don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you riled." Resting his hand on Greg's shoulder, he nodded. "I'm going to let him back in and try my best."

The Grissoms'
11:50 a.m.

Staring at the photo of baby Gil, Sara's heart overflowed with joy. For the first time she could visualize what their child together would look like and it was a beautiful vision. "He seems like such a tiny baby. How big was he?"

"Six pounds. He was a month early." Ron set his empty glass on the coffee table. "We hadn't even purchased a crib yet…we were waiting for my next pay check. When we brought him home, Jillian took out a drawer from our dresser and used it as a makeshift bassinette." He lightly chuckled. "His early arrival was just the beginning. Gil…he did everything early…walking, talking, reading. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how smart he is."

The happiness faded from her face. "How would you know? You were rarely there."

"True. After my father cut me out, I let my bruised ego get in the way of my own family." Sitting back against the cushions, he explained, "When we first arrived in California we only had enough money to secure a tiny apartment. It was a far cry from the country club lifestyle I was used to but…I didn't mind. I was a naïve twenty-two year old and I believed love was all we needed to be happy. It didn't take long for reality to burst that bubble. The truth was we were on our own for the first time in our lives and we were scared to death."

"What about Jillian's parents?"

"Her mother died when she was sixteen. Her father was a professor of English Lit and highly regarded in his church. He was a kind man but Jillian was too embarrassed to tell him about the pregnancy. You see back in our day, if a girl got pregnant before marriage she was the scandal of the church. Today…the Catholic Church is the scandal and high schools have programs for teenage mothers. It must be hard for you to understand." Smiling sweetly at Sara, he said, "I know not to ask a woman her age so I'll guess and say you were born in the early seventies…post-sexual revolution."

"I've read enough books and seen enough movies to comprehend your generation." She flipped to the gorgeous sorority photo of Gil's mother. "No DNA technology to even prove who the father of your baby really was so I have to give you props for believing Jillian. From what I understand it was common for guys to turn their backs when a girl got in trouble…you have to love that saying, it was like she did it on her own. Hell, if a girl was raped she better have been beaten to a pulp to prove it….even then she was used goods."

"Every generation has its darkness."

"Not that there's any doubt because Gil certainly has all your physical features." In a cutting tone, she remarked, "But thankfully he's quite different when it comes to character attributes. Responsibility isn't something he shirks. On the contrary, he's spent his whole life identifying people shirking theirs and making them accountable for their pathetic actions. Is it really any mystery why he chose his profession?"

"Mysteries are only mysterious until the right questions are asked and answered."

For the first time, the father not only looked like the son…he sounded like him. "So I'll ask more questions. How does a man who claims to love his wife and son…the attentive man in these photos…how does he turn and walk away from them one day?"

"It didn't happen overnight." Not having spoken of these events to anyone in all this time, he struggled. "Um…when I tell you…I know it will sound like Gil was the cause of all our problems, but that's not true. He was the catalyst but Jillian and I were the guilty parties and if we were stronger people or if we had any support, I'm sure we could have coped. We just had so much to deal with so fast and her stubbornness and my greedy determination to show my father I could make it got in the way of everything that was right."

Once again Sara looked at the baby photo. "How can anything this innocent cause pain?"

"It was a few months after Gil was born that I noticed a change in Jillian. For the first time ever, I felt she was hiding something from me. I couldn't figure out what it was so eventually I gave up trying and attributed it to our financial struggles. There was no money for art supplies or the finer things she enjoyed. When we were dating I had plenty of cash and I spoiled her rotten buying her gifts, taking her out on the town. I knew she missed the excitement. With me working all the time to make ends meet while she stayed home with a colicky baby I figured she was getting depressed. Today they have a fancy term for it…Post-partum depression?"

"Yes."

Smiling, he said, "As you know, men like to fix problems. So I set out determined to fix our financial troubles so I could buy her whatever it took to make her happy…a better house, a nicer car, art supplies." Holding up his glass, he said, "I'm afraid I'm still parched. Would you mind if I got some more water?"

"I'll get it for you." Sara reached for the glass and hurried into the kitchen.

"Thank you, Dear."

The affectionate term unsettled her. "Keep talking."

"I was working two dead-end jobs when one day a man approached me about a sales position. He guaranteed I'd make four times what I was making in both jobs combined."

"Legally?" She asked as she set the fresh glass of ice water on the coffee table.

"Most of the time," He cryptically answered before taking a sip. "But sometimes not. It was a line I never thought I would cross but I would have sold my soul to the devil to restore Jillian so I took the job."

Her stomach rumbling, Sara retrieved the tray of baked goods she had received earlier. "Would you like…"

"No thanks." He returned his glass to the table. "Not on my diet."

"Right." She returned to her seat with the tray. "So you took the job…"

"Yes, and it required me to be away for weeks at a time. It was that feature of the job that allowed Jillian to keep her secret for as long as she did."

"Her hearing loss?"

"You know?"

"I know she had otosclerosis." She popped another macaroon in her mouth in an effort to not divulge any additional details.

"At the time of course she didn't know what she had. I was completely clueless. You see, pregnancy can exacerbate the situation rapidly," He informed her.

"I've read that in my research."

"You researched it?" He caught Sara's eyes. "Does Gil…"

"No questions."

"That's right. Back to the story…my wife covered by reading lips and blaming exhaustion for her strange behavior. I begged her to see a doctor but she wouldn't. By then we had the money…she was just so stubborn. She said women had been having babies since the dawn of time and she wasn't going to go to the doctor complaining she was tired because all mothers are tired. Usually Gil would do something to get our attention and, before we knew it, we'd be off the subject and enjoying a happy family moment." His voice suddenly faded, "She had been lying to me for almost two years before I figured it out."

She could see the betrayal flashing in his eyes. "How did you figure it out?"

"One day I came home from a trip to New York City…"

Bursting through the door with a dozen red roses, Ron yelled, "Jillian, I'm home! The trip was a huge success. Jillian?"

The sound of Gil frantically shrieking sent a shiver up his spine.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron exclaimed when he saw his wife painting a canvas in front of the sunny living room window like she didn't have a care in the world. "Jillian!"

Finally she turned around. "You're home."

"How can you leave Gil screaming like that while you paint? He sounds frantic." Dropping his things, he rushed out of the room, hurrying down the hall to his son's room. When he opened the door, he saw his son lying on the floor with one of his feet stuck between the bars of the crib. "Oh my god!" Carefully he released his son's twisted and swollen foot and comforted him in his arms.

"What happened?" Jillian asked as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"He climbed out of the crib and caught his foot in the bars. I think it's broken. God damn it! How could you let him scream like that without checking on him?"

Only tears flowed.

"Answer me, Jillian! Why are you acting so crazy! Why won't you let me get you help?"

"I…I didn't hear him."

"You didn't hear him?" He smoothed his hand over his hysterical son's back. " How could you not hear him? I heard him the second I walked through the door." Walking out of the room, he barked, "I'm taking him to the hospital."

"The doctors told us her condition was too far gone to do anything to stop it." He shook his head. "I thought my wife was depressed and losing her mind but the whole time she was losing her hearing and lying to me. I was so angry. I couldn't understand how she could betray our marriage vows…our trust. And every time I saw Gil in that cast I couldn't forgive her for endangering our son. I mean what if it had been a different type of accident…what if he had been bleeding that whole time? But as angry as I was at her it didn't come close to how angry she was at herself."

"A mother instinctively protects her child…she failed and it had to hurt."

"As hurt as I was, I was desperate to fix the problem…to make everything right…to make her whole again."

"But you couldn't." Sara observed the sadness in his eyes.

"I took a promotion at work…one that plunged me much further into the grey. I figured if I got enough money I would be able to find a specialist who would give us a different answer." Deflated he said, "I eventually learned money can't buy something that doesn't exist. Today they have a procedure…I can't think of what it's called…something with an S…."

"Stapedectomy." Instantly Sara cursed herself for her inability to decline a trivia challenge.

"Gil's had the procedure?" Ron stared at the flustered woman sitting before him. "I know you don't want to give up any information but I see the answer in your eyes. It must have been a success because he would need his hearing to do his job. Good, I'm glad he's okay. Oh and don't worry…you didn't tell me anything, I figured it out."

"He…" As much as she didn't want to say it, she let it spill. "He denied it and hid it from me for years. We um…weren't in a relationship at the time but we were close and I had a hard time understanding why he couldn't tell me." Then she thought of his recent confession about missing his doctor's appointments. "I can empathize."

"The apple didn't fall too far from the tree." Ron sighed. "Does he have his mother's temper too?"

"Her temper?" The question threw her. "No. The only time I've ever seen him angry is during cases when even a Buddhist monk might get irate. Our job…we sometimes deal with unspeakable things. Gil doesn't have a temper. That's one of the reasons I was drawn to him. He's very stable."

LVPD
Police Station
11:50 a.m.

When Grissom opened the door, Hodges was standing there with Carrie.

A second later, Hodges gruffly informed him, "I won't be pressing charges against Sanders."

Carrie winked at Grissom. "After I mentioned that my client, Ms. Tawny Cooper, was considering filing Verbal Assault and Defamation of Character charges for his slanderous comments, Mr. Hodges rethought his position."

Inside the interrogation room, Greg dropped his battered head in his hands. "I take back all the lawyer jokes I ever made."

Grissom waved them both into the room. "So now all we have left is the Disturbing the Peace misdemeanor from the establishment."

Hodges returned to his chair and Carrie took Grissom's spot at the head of the table.

Waving her cell phone, Carrie grinned. "I just spoke with the restaurant manager. If Mr. Hodges and Mr. Sanders agree to pay restitution for damages incurred during the disturbance, plus ten percent for pain and suffering, there won't be any charges. I asked the restaurant manager to fax over an itemized list to my office. After I review it I can draw up a binding agreement for your employees and the restaurant owner to sign. Once the money is received…case closed. By keeping this testosterone-infused incident out of the courts, the taxpayers of Clark County win, you both keep your jobs and I'll only bill you for an hour of my time. So what do you say, boys? Will you take the deal?"

"Yes," They chimed.

"Good answer." She stood and headed for the door. "I'll be in touch. Oh and Greg…Tawny is going to follow me home because she also made a deal with me. She'll be home in an hour."

Hodges glared at Greg. "So she's a live-in stripper. Nice."

"Screw you!"

"Hey! What the? Keep it up and I'll press Stupidity charges against both of you!" Counting the seconds until his days as Supervisor were over, Grissom loomed over the boys. "By the way, you're not home free. You're both going to receive, courtesy of the County, twelve PEAP sessions. David, in addition to that, you get to attend an Alcohol Prevention course because, you weren't just disorderly, you were drunk and disorderly. Greg… don't worry, you get to go to school too…Anger Management 101. Until you complete these requirements your personnel files are flagged. Now…shake hands and convince me that I don't have to worry about the two of you letting this interfere with your work and if you could muster the fortitude, an apology would be nice."

Greg was the first to thrust his hand forward. "I'm sorry for breaking your nose after you callously defamed my girlfriend's character and humiliated her in front of a room full of people. I should know better than to resort to violence to make a point. Oh, and even though I think you're a rat bastard, I won't let my feelings interfere with our working together."

Massaging his temples, Grissom droned, "Your turn, David."

Accepting the handshake, Hodges retorted, "And I'm sorry for publicly discussing your girlfriend's prowess at taking her clothes off and dancing for money. As far as defaming her character…I guess I never considered that a possibility since she was already doing it nightly herself but, I apologize profusely if I did. For the sake of the lab, I won't let the fact you broke my nose in defense of your stripper girlfriend's honor interfere with our working together."

Grissom rolled his eyes. "David, do you have someone to take you to the hospital to have that nose fixed?"

"Yes, my friends are in the waiting area."

"Good." Grissom opened the door. "Since I assume you'll be doped up on pain meds, you have the next two nights off. When you return, I'll have all your counseling and course paperwork waiting for you."

"Sounds like you've done this before," Hodges snipped on the way out the door.

Now that they were alone, Grissom softened towards Greg. "Come on…I'll take you home. I'll even let you pick the radio station."

"Uh oh." Sore from sitting for so long with aching muscles, he slowly rose out of his chair. "The last time you let me pick the radio station disaster struck at the Harper House an hour later."

"I'll tempt fate." He shooed him out of the room. "Let's stop and grab an ice pack for that shiner."

"I can't believe I broke his nose. I've never been in a fight in my entire life…well only on the receiving end of a few in middle school."

Together they walked down the hall.

"Says something how you feel about Tawny, don't you think?"

"I suppose so. Hey…Hodges was right about one thing…this town is filled with men who have seen her stripping…not to mention ones who probably saw her in that damn magazine."

"You can't erase the past, Greg." Grissom held open the door. "If you plan on staying with Tawny, you're going to have to accept this scenario might happen again and learn how to cope with it. Might be a good focus for your counseling sessions."

"I'm a little nervous about that. I've never been in counseling before, have you?"

"Me? Discuss my personal life with a complete stranger?" Chuckling, Grissom extracted his car keys from his pocket. "I'm not much of a talker when it comes to my feelings. I've always been more into storage than sharing."

"Probably why you were single for so long, huh? Chicks like to talk about stuff."

"Get in the car."

"You share stuff with Sara now, don't you?"

Starting the car, he grumped, "If I answered that I'd be sharing with you and violating my non-sharing principle."

"Wow…I've shared so much with you lately." Frowning, he buckled his seat belt. "You can't even answer one question. Kinda one-sided don't you think? I thought we had this bonding thing going on."

"Fine," He replied after backing out of his parking space. "Yes, now I share stuff with Sara. Things I've never told anyone else and yes, sometimes it even feels good…sometimes very good."

"Sometimes?" Greg pondered the limitation. "When doesn't it feel good?"

"For the record, this is two things I'm sharing with you." After taking a deep breath, he gave an honest answer. "It doesn't feel good when I stop and think how vulnerable I am now that someone else knows my secrets. By giving away your secrets, you're giving someone else the power to hurt you. Think of what happened with Hodges…he knew about Tawny when you didn't think he did. Once he sensed you were vulnerable about it, he exploited it and hurt you to the point of making you snap."

"Yeah, but you're not telling them to just anyone, you're telling them to Sara…your wife. She'd never hurt you."

"No, she wouldn't and that's the only reason I feel comfortable sharing with her." Smiling, he reached for his cell phone. "That reminds me, I need to call Sara. After I'm done, we'll tempt fate and have you find your radio station."

"Okay…but only if you promise not to step inside any houses waiting to collapse."

"Whatever you say, Greg." Grissom punched in his house phone speed dial number.

After four rings she answered sweetly, "Hi, Honey…"