I Forgot To Tell You
Chapter Four
Thanks: Thanks goes to Heidi, Meg, Tash, and Allison (a.k.a the Reverend) for reading this through before I posted it and giving it so much character. G Thanks also to the G/S list for the nice reviews. Oh, and thanks to all the wonderful authors who write such wonderful fan fiction. I think especially here of Jess ("Title Pending"), because if I hadn't read that fic I don't think I'd be writing this right now. Inspirations rock!
Disclaimers: Um, I don't CSI or the characters or whatever. Blah.
Sara knew what she was doing was against some cardinal rule in the CSI handbook, a fact that made her queasy and exhilarated at the same time. She had never disobeyed. Never. And so when she stepped up to Michelle's doorway and raised a shaking hand to knock, her eyes kept dashing to either side of her in a frenzied attempt to ensure the coast was clear.
The door was answered almost immediately by Michelle, who stood in front of Sara with a surprised expression on her face. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her dirty clothes and messy hair indicating she was in the middle of something.
"I want to talk to you," Sara answered, her eyes darting across the street as a car flew past. "Can I come in?"
"Of course." Michelle backed away, allowing Sara to enter the house. "Sorry about the way I look, I was doing a little cleaning. Follow me into the kitchen and I'll get you some coffee."
The smell of Pine-Sol filled the space of the small home, sun cascading through several open windows as Sara entered the tiny room. "Your house is nice," she offered, sitting down on a chair in front of the table.Michelle grinned, pouring coffee into a white mug.
"Thanks." She handed it to Sara and glanced at her questioningly. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I know about Harry getting arrested for hitting you. I also know about the baby, Katelyn." Michelle ducked her head and stared at the surface of the table.
"How did you find out?"
"Why are you still with him, Michelle?" Sara asked suddenly, not bothering to answer her question. The smooth clean wood of the table felt hot under her hand as she leaned forward to get a better look at her old friend's face.
"It was just one time," Michelle explained, hugging herself while she attempted to keep the emotion in her voice from reaching her eyes. "He was mad at me for spending too much money on baby clothes and I wasn't being reasonable. I kept interrupting him and yelling at him and accusing him of things. So naturally, he just kept getting more angry." Finally she looked up into Sara's face, searching for understanding. All she found was sympathy, but that wasn't what she wanted.
"It wasn't your fault, Michelle," Sara croaked, desperately trying not to cry. Michelle continued.
"Yes, yes it was. Because I was being a bitch, and all he wanted to do was talk about it. He had every reason to be angry. And I just kept yelling, and yelling. So finally he slapped me. No one would have found out if I hadn't yelled so loud that the neighbours called the cops."
Sara shook her head, fingering the loop on her coffee mug while she searched for something to say.
"But he hasn't done it since. He's really trying to turn his life around. I mean, he isn't drinking as much anymore, and he's great with Katelyn..." She trailed off, staring Sara in the eyes. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, Sara. I don't need anyone's sympathy."
"Why is it that you can't see he's a bastard?" It wasn't what she meant to say, but she blurted it out anyway and watched as Michelle's eyes widened.
"He's my husband, Sara. You can't just come in here and start calling my husband names like that." Her breathing was shallow now, she was angry.
"It wasn't just once, was it? How many times has he hit you?" Sara's voice was soft, understanding. She was trying to be gentle with the subject but at the same time she was aware that she had crossed the line. Their eyes met for a split second before Michelle spoke in a low, wavering voice.
"Please leave." She got up to collect Sara's half-full mug, telling her silently that she was no longer welcome. Sara got up from her chair and moved slowly to the door, but before the handle had been turned completely she swivelled around to face Michelle's back.
"That wasn't all I wanted to talk about," she said, watching as Michelle's form stiffened at the words.
"Maybe some other time," she replied, still not looking at Sara as she washed out the mug. "Katelyn will need to be fed soon."
"Why did you do it, Michelle?" Her words were simple, but she knew she was understood. The young mother sighed before turning around and facing Sara with sad, tired eyes.
"I didn't know you loved him, Sara." She shook her head. "And... so many other reasons. But now is not the time..." Sara nodded, turned toward the door, and left.
********
Sara walked to the door of Dr. Grissom's office and opened it, glancing inside to see the doctor himself pouring over a few lesson plans. He hadn't heard her come in. She cleared her throat and watched as he raised his eyes and took in her appearance.
"Sara. Glad you could make it." He smiled and pointed to the chair beside him. "Sit down, please." She did so, the nervousness in her stomach building up as his scent nearly knocked her off her feet.
"Page 32, right?" he asked her, turning his head so their faces were only inches apart. She nodded shortly, swallowing in a vain attempt to compose herself. "Now, what was it you had a question about?"
She searched her mind for the answer. Horrified, she feared she might have forgotten it. "Umm..." Her mind clicked. "I don't understand this whole larvae thing." She pointed to the picture and noted that her nails needed to be repainted.
He explained it to her and she listened carefully, not wanting to let her obvious attraction to him get in the way of her studies. She couldn't blame herself, though. He was tall, thin, had brown curly hair and blue eyes that pierced her soul. She couldn't get over his eyes...
"Anything else?" he asked when he was done. She shook her head, smiled slightly and had started to get up out of her chair when she felt his warm hand on her elbow. "Sara..."
Her heart was beating so fast and so loudly that she was sure he could hear it. Her mind raced at all the possibilities of what he would say next.
"I just wanted to tell you... I think you're a brilliant student and someday you're going to make a wonderful forensic scientist. If I ever get the pleasure of working with you after you're done with your schooling than I am sure I will be very, very pleased."
"Thanks." The word almost caught in her throat. She got up to leave and was at the door when she muttered, "Goodbye, Dr. Grissom."
"Please," he said. "Just call me Grissom."
**********
"You what?"
"I went over to see her." Sara stared at him with fear in her eyes. "I'm sorry." She was standing in the doorway of his office, looking down at his form slouched over the desk. The swinging of his office chair had ceased as soon as she'd told him what she had done. "I wanted to talk to her about Harry. I know it was wrong, and I'm sorry," she apologized again, waiting for him to speak.
"I would never expect this out of you, Sara." His voice was cold, expressionless, and she felt like she had instantly become a suspect in one of his cases. "You could have been killed. For all you know Michelle's a murderer."
"Don't treat me like someone you're interrogating, Grissom. Don't do that. Not now." She still hadn't moved from the doorway. Her legs were crossed slightly, showing off skin where the slit in her skirt opened. She hadn't expected him to be happy about what she'd done, but she wasn't ready for him to start treating her like she wasn't special to him.
He sighed, motioning for her to come inside his office and sit down. As she was doing so, he moved to close the door. He then sat across from her and stared her in the face. "I'm afraid that you're getting too personally involved, Sara." She knew he would say that.
"You know very well that I would never let my feelings get in the way of the evidence," She reasoned, defiance etching her face.
"I do," He said, then took her hand in his. "But I'm worried that this is taking too much out of you." She eyed his fingers on hers and wondered about the giant shock of electricity that coursed through her when he squeezed her hand.
"Michelle said she didn't know I loved him." Her eyes met his in an effort to see what he was feeling, if her words had any affect on him whatsoever. He sighed and shook his head.
"She didn't. But neither did he."
Chapter Four
Thanks: Thanks goes to Heidi, Meg, Tash, and Allison (a.k.a the Reverend) for reading this through before I posted it and giving it so much character. G Thanks also to the G/S list for the nice reviews. Oh, and thanks to all the wonderful authors who write such wonderful fan fiction. I think especially here of Jess ("Title Pending"), because if I hadn't read that fic I don't think I'd be writing this right now. Inspirations rock!
Disclaimers: Um, I don't CSI or the characters or whatever. Blah.
Sara knew what she was doing was against some cardinal rule in the CSI handbook, a fact that made her queasy and exhilarated at the same time. She had never disobeyed. Never. And so when she stepped up to Michelle's doorway and raised a shaking hand to knock, her eyes kept dashing to either side of her in a frenzied attempt to ensure the coast was clear.
The door was answered almost immediately by Michelle, who stood in front of Sara with a surprised expression on her face. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her dirty clothes and messy hair indicating she was in the middle of something.
"I want to talk to you," Sara answered, her eyes darting across the street as a car flew past. "Can I come in?"
"Of course." Michelle backed away, allowing Sara to enter the house. "Sorry about the way I look, I was doing a little cleaning. Follow me into the kitchen and I'll get you some coffee."
The smell of Pine-Sol filled the space of the small home, sun cascading through several open windows as Sara entered the tiny room. "Your house is nice," she offered, sitting down on a chair in front of the table.Michelle grinned, pouring coffee into a white mug.
"Thanks." She handed it to Sara and glanced at her questioningly. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I know about Harry getting arrested for hitting you. I also know about the baby, Katelyn." Michelle ducked her head and stared at the surface of the table.
"How did you find out?"
"Why are you still with him, Michelle?" Sara asked suddenly, not bothering to answer her question. The smooth clean wood of the table felt hot under her hand as she leaned forward to get a better look at her old friend's face.
"It was just one time," Michelle explained, hugging herself while she attempted to keep the emotion in her voice from reaching her eyes. "He was mad at me for spending too much money on baby clothes and I wasn't being reasonable. I kept interrupting him and yelling at him and accusing him of things. So naturally, he just kept getting more angry." Finally she looked up into Sara's face, searching for understanding. All she found was sympathy, but that wasn't what she wanted.
"It wasn't your fault, Michelle," Sara croaked, desperately trying not to cry. Michelle continued.
"Yes, yes it was. Because I was being a bitch, and all he wanted to do was talk about it. He had every reason to be angry. And I just kept yelling, and yelling. So finally he slapped me. No one would have found out if I hadn't yelled so loud that the neighbours called the cops."
Sara shook her head, fingering the loop on her coffee mug while she searched for something to say.
"But he hasn't done it since. He's really trying to turn his life around. I mean, he isn't drinking as much anymore, and he's great with Katelyn..." She trailed off, staring Sara in the eyes. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, Sara. I don't need anyone's sympathy."
"Why is it that you can't see he's a bastard?" It wasn't what she meant to say, but she blurted it out anyway and watched as Michelle's eyes widened.
"He's my husband, Sara. You can't just come in here and start calling my husband names like that." Her breathing was shallow now, she was angry.
"It wasn't just once, was it? How many times has he hit you?" Sara's voice was soft, understanding. She was trying to be gentle with the subject but at the same time she was aware that she had crossed the line. Their eyes met for a split second before Michelle spoke in a low, wavering voice.
"Please leave." She got up to collect Sara's half-full mug, telling her silently that she was no longer welcome. Sara got up from her chair and moved slowly to the door, but before the handle had been turned completely she swivelled around to face Michelle's back.
"That wasn't all I wanted to talk about," she said, watching as Michelle's form stiffened at the words.
"Maybe some other time," she replied, still not looking at Sara as she washed out the mug. "Katelyn will need to be fed soon."
"Why did you do it, Michelle?" Her words were simple, but she knew she was understood. The young mother sighed before turning around and facing Sara with sad, tired eyes.
"I didn't know you loved him, Sara." She shook her head. "And... so many other reasons. But now is not the time..." Sara nodded, turned toward the door, and left.
********
Sara walked to the door of Dr. Grissom's office and opened it, glancing inside to see the doctor himself pouring over a few lesson plans. He hadn't heard her come in. She cleared her throat and watched as he raised his eyes and took in her appearance.
"Sara. Glad you could make it." He smiled and pointed to the chair beside him. "Sit down, please." She did so, the nervousness in her stomach building up as his scent nearly knocked her off her feet.
"Page 32, right?" he asked her, turning his head so their faces were only inches apart. She nodded shortly, swallowing in a vain attempt to compose herself. "Now, what was it you had a question about?"
She searched her mind for the answer. Horrified, she feared she might have forgotten it. "Umm..." Her mind clicked. "I don't understand this whole larvae thing." She pointed to the picture and noted that her nails needed to be repainted.
He explained it to her and she listened carefully, not wanting to let her obvious attraction to him get in the way of her studies. She couldn't blame herself, though. He was tall, thin, had brown curly hair and blue eyes that pierced her soul. She couldn't get over his eyes...
"Anything else?" he asked when he was done. She shook her head, smiled slightly and had started to get up out of her chair when she felt his warm hand on her elbow. "Sara..."
Her heart was beating so fast and so loudly that she was sure he could hear it. Her mind raced at all the possibilities of what he would say next.
"I just wanted to tell you... I think you're a brilliant student and someday you're going to make a wonderful forensic scientist. If I ever get the pleasure of working with you after you're done with your schooling than I am sure I will be very, very pleased."
"Thanks." The word almost caught in her throat. She got up to leave and was at the door when she muttered, "Goodbye, Dr. Grissom."
"Please," he said. "Just call me Grissom."
**********
"You what?"
"I went over to see her." Sara stared at him with fear in her eyes. "I'm sorry." She was standing in the doorway of his office, looking down at his form slouched over the desk. The swinging of his office chair had ceased as soon as she'd told him what she had done. "I wanted to talk to her about Harry. I know it was wrong, and I'm sorry," she apologized again, waiting for him to speak.
"I would never expect this out of you, Sara." His voice was cold, expressionless, and she felt like she had instantly become a suspect in one of his cases. "You could have been killed. For all you know Michelle's a murderer."
"Don't treat me like someone you're interrogating, Grissom. Don't do that. Not now." She still hadn't moved from the doorway. Her legs were crossed slightly, showing off skin where the slit in her skirt opened. She hadn't expected him to be happy about what she'd done, but she wasn't ready for him to start treating her like she wasn't special to him.
He sighed, motioning for her to come inside his office and sit down. As she was doing so, he moved to close the door. He then sat across from her and stared her in the face. "I'm afraid that you're getting too personally involved, Sara." She knew he would say that.
"You know very well that I would never let my feelings get in the way of the evidence," She reasoned, defiance etching her face.
"I do," He said, then took her hand in his. "But I'm worried that this is taking too much out of you." She eyed his fingers on hers and wondered about the giant shock of electricity that coursed through her when he squeezed her hand.
"Michelle said she didn't know I loved him." Her eyes met his in an effort to see what he was feeling, if her words had any affect on him whatsoever. He sighed and shook his head.
"She didn't. But neither did he."