Grissom spent the next two weeks feeling as though he were moving through a thick fog.Sara was pregnant, and he couldn't wrap his mind around the implications. Would she be getting married? She wasn't wearing a ring, but that didn't mean much. She might take it off before coming in, so it that wouldn't cut her gloves as she worked. Or maybe she didn't have one. Plenty of people didn't have engagement rings. Maybe she wasn't getting married.
He wondered if she was still involved with this guy. The fact that Sara was pregnant meant that it was serious. Sara wouldn't just jump into bed with someone. Would she?
They had certainly looked serious to him that day in the diner, but recently Sara had seemed more… available. He had hoped it meant she was free again. A baby, though. If they were still together, they would try to stay that way. A child needs a father. I should know. I won't get in the way of that.
But what if he's gone?
As his mind returned again and again to the endless treadmill of possibilities, he went through the motions of doing his job. He was surprised, in a vague way, at how little it mattered that a large corner of his mind was completely absent. Crime had been commonplace lately. He could afford to sleepwalk a little.
He couldn't talk to Sara. He couldn't see her face without seeing her watching her boyfriend that day in the diner. The two of them would have left together, he knew now, they would have gone back to her place and, well, made a baby.
They had sex. Since when are you this inhibited? They fucked, Gil. They made love, maybe. And why shouldn't she have? You have no claim on her.
It was an agonizing thought. He had been jealous of Hank. He had felt betrayed. That had been bad, but this was a thousand times worse. Hank hadn't seemed serious. She had never passed Hank the ketchup unasked. Or if she had he hadn't seen it.
She had not conceived a child with Hank.
Every day he wanted to assign her to cases in the desert, to the outskirts of the county. He wanted to banish her from his sight and his mind. He tried it, that first night, and spent the case in a panic. What if something happened to her?
He was confused by his own reaction. She wasn't carrying his child. She wasn't visibly pregnant. She was completely capable of doing her job. His instincts were out of place, and inappropriate.
Still he kept her with him, refusing to let her solo. They drove to every scene in silence as his mind churned with questions his mouth refused to ask. He'd pretend to watch the road while she gazed at him with wounded eyes.
Sometimes he would be able to ask how she was doing. The answer was always the same.
"Fine."
When they arrived he assigned her to the perimeter, without fail. She never complained, never said one word that wasn't case-related. She kept out of his sight as much as possible, and came when she was called.
Some days her silence felt like an apology. Some days it was an accusation.
After ten days Sophia came to see him in his office. She perched on his desk, forcing him to look away from his paperwork and up at her face.
"We need to talk." Oh no, not another one.
He observed her more closely. She looked a little less serene than normal. In fact, she looked a little stressed.
"Okay," he said, inviting her to continue.
"Why don't you trust Sara?"
"What?" What?
"Is there some reason you think she's incompetent?"
"No."
"Then why are you supervising her like this? You only have three experienced CSIs, Grissom, including yourself. You can't take her on every case, and refuse to let her work alone."
"Did…did she complain?"
"I'm complaining. I can't do it. You've cut our ability to handle cases in half, Sanders isn't good enough to shoulder the burden, and I'm working my ass off because you have some personal issues with Sidle. This needs to stop."
She's right. And I can't afford to alienate her right now.
"You're right. I'm sorry. From now on things will be better."
That night, he sent Sara to a B&E uptown. He almost sent Greg with her, but he really hadn't mentored Greg in a while now, so he told her shewould besolo.
She nodded, obviously surprised, and took the assignment sheet. She seemed a little hurt. I can't do anything right. He forced a smile, and wished her luck as she left. The surprise in her eyes stabbed at him.
He forced himself to focus on his own case, and was unsuccessful. Greg found a fiber he had missed. It was unnerving to both men.
The next night, he sent her on an assault case, while he and Greg continued their murder investigation. He was more focused this time. He only panicked a little when he heard officers calling for backup on the radio. It wasn't her scene.
The third night, Catherine had a body with bugs. Lots of bugs. She called him to look at them, and he spent the first evening in a long time actually thinking about work.
The fourth night, the whole night shift worked together: a messy drive-by. They collected bullets for hours, and his knees were aching when they got back to the lab. He wondered how Sara would manage in a few months. He supposed she'd be fine.
He passed her on her way to the locker room. He asked her how she was.
"Fine." She continued on her way, not looking back.
"Sara?"
"Yeah?" She looked exhausted, and this probably wasn't the best time, but he had passed up too many chances now, and he had to strike while the iron was hot.
"Can we… Can I buy you breakfast?"
She looked startled. She didn't answer right away, and Grissom didn't dare to look away, hoping she wouldn't reject him, knowing he deserved the rejection. She swallowed.
"Sure. That would be nice. Shall I get Greg and Sophia?"
"No."
Now she looked lost, vulnerable. It only lasted a moment.
"Let's go, then."