Cause and Effect: Chapter three
"Hey Gil".
Grissom's head snapped up as Catherine Willows strode leisurely into his office, slanting a perfectly plucked eyebrow at his sudden jolt.
"Jumpy, huh?"
He sighed deeply, in no mood for his old friends' company. She was far too perceptive when he least wanted her to be, and it wouldn't take much for her to figure out that something was bothering him.
"Is there something in particular you wanted, Catherine?"
She furrowed her brows slightly at the curtness of his tone, and he sunk back in his leather chair resignedly, conceding that snapping probably wasn't the most effective way to get rid of her.
As expected, Catherine took this as her cue to slide casually into the opposite chair, crossing her legs delicately at the knee. "Ah, so Greg steering away from here wasn't accidental", she noted casually. "What's the matter? Bad case?"
He ran a hand over his beard wearily. "No, I just have a lot of work to catch up on".
Her steel blue eyes drifted pointedly down to the small mound of paperwork on the corner of his desk. "Doesn't look like much to me."
"Again, are you going to criticise my administrative skills or is there a reason you decided to visit?"
Catherine pursed her lips, lifting a piece of invisible lint off the arm of her suit jacket to use as an excuse to carefully avoid any eye contact. "All right. I've decided to take some leave. Just a few weeks, a month, maybe. I'm going to take Lindsey away. I want to distance her from Vegas for a while."
Grissom slated an eyebrow. "Doesn't she have school?"
Catherine made a sigh of irritation at his apparent ignorance. "Spring break is coming up, Grissom".
"Right. And… you have the money for this sort of vacation?"
Catherine glanced away, shrugging slightly. "There's still… enough left over from Sam's check", she admitted evenly.
Grissom sighed, in no mood to sound his disapproval over that subject. He folded his palms against the base of his chin, studying her impatiently.
"And why are you telling me this, Catherine?"
She sighed deeply, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. "I spoke to Ecklie this afternoon. My… shift's going to be a bit shorthanded. He suggested transferring someone… from graveyard".
Grissom straightened sharply, eyes narrowing disbelievingly. "I'm only working with three people as it is, Catherine!" he exclaimed angrily.
She frowned defensively. "I know, okay? Don't you think I thought about that? It wasn't my decision. Apparently we're having budget cuts and Ecklie can't afford to bring in a temp. I told him I would discuss it with you but he already made a suggestion".
Grissom pressed his lips together in a tight, firm line, knowing he wasn't going to like this. "And who is he considering?"
Catherine bit her lip. "Sara", she admitted reluctantly.
Grissom scowled irritably, his whole expression darkening. "Why Sara?"
Catherine hesitated. "She would technically be taking over my position as swing supervisor. I originally suggested Warrick, but Ecklie thought it should be someone from another shift."
Grissom frowned. "Well, why not Sofia? She's trained as a supervisor."
Catherine shrugged. "I think he's still punishing her for not having his back with the team separation."
"Well, Sara's hardly his favourite person either, Catherine".
"He said Sara could use the experience. It could give her a chance to prove herself, Gil".
He eyed her suspiciously. "A few weeks ago he wanted to fire her. Somehow I doubt he's doing this for the benefit of her career."
Catherine looked down. "Look, I know you don't want to be separated from the last of the team. But am I the only one who remembers the promotion last year? I'm not the only one in this lab who's ambitious. If Ecklie's waiting for Sara to screw up, at least you could have faith in the fact that she won't. I'm sure she can do it."
"I don't doubt that she could. I just don't have any faith in Ecklie's intentions."
"Grissom, it's only temporary. And nothing's been decided yet. You have a few weeks to think about it, at least. What is up with you? If this were one of the boys you would probably be happy for them."
Grissom heaved a heavy sigh. "It's nothing. I'm just tired of Ecklie using my people to manipulate me."
Catherine cocked an eyebrow doubtfully. "You were brooding about something before I came in here. Want to tell me what's going on?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, removing his glasses wearily as he debated how much to actually tell her. "Do you remember Alex Townsend?" he asked, at last.
Catherine furrowed her brow, struggling to place him in her memory. "Uh, some old… colleague of yours, right? From California?"
"Right. He… might be the suspect in our latest murder."
She bit her lip sympathetically. "Have you considered removing yourself from the case?"
Grissom frowned slightly. "We haven't spoken in over ten years. It's not exactly a conflict of interest".
Catherine leant back in her chair nonchalantly. "Well, I'm not one to judge, but… if it's bothering you it must matter somehow".
Grissom frowned, eyeing her over the desk uneasily.
A knock rapped quietly at the door, and Sara's slender form slid tentatively inside. She had a look on her face that suggested going into his office was about the last thing she wanted to do, and he guessed she had tossed Greg for the honour.
"Uh, sorry to interrupt… but Doc Robbins just completed his autopsy on our motel vic."
Catherine's hands slid over the arms of her chair as she pulled herself languorously to her feet. "It's fine. We're about done here, anyway".
She gave Sara a brief smile as she left, and Sara returned it weakly, obviously unconvinced things were right between them.
Catherine closed the door behind her, and Grissom was sure it was intentional, and felt immediately closed in with the younger brunette. He shook the feeling off, gesturing to the file in her hand with the tip of his pen, all business. "What have you got?"
She glanced down, though he was sure she had the contents completely memorised. "Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the back of the head. She had bruisings on her cheek and wrists, so she struggled with her attacker." She hesitated slightly. "She was also raped."
Grissom glanced down, closing his eyes briefly. He didn't want to believe Alex was capable of that kind of violence, but… he couldn't ignore the niggling feeling in him that said it was possible.
Sara stood awkwardly where she was, eyes focused distractedly on some space on his desk and he knew she too, was considering it. He cleared his throat resolutely. "Uh, were there any traces of semen?"
She glanced up, slowly shaking her head. "No, uh, Doc Robbins thinks he probably used a condom. He either wasn't a first time offender or…"
"He knows something about forensics", Grissom finished gruffly.
Sara shifted uncomfortably. "Or he was just protecting himself", she suggested hesitantly, obviously not believing it herself.
Grissom sighed, eyes focusing distractedly on his pen as he tapped it dimly against his papers. "Right".
He could feel Sara's gaze on him for a long, drawn-out moment, until she slowly circled around the vacant chair and lowered herself into it.
"Are we going to talk about what happened back there?" she asked, softly.
Grissom's head lifted up, and his eyes bored into hers with a sudden darkness. He had dared to hope she wouldn't broach this. He should have known better. "No".
She worked her jaw irritably at the abruptness of his reply, eyes narrowing unrelentingly. "Grissom, we… we can't just ignore this. If he's a suspect—"
"We don't have sufficient evidence to prove he is one. And until we do, we have no reason to do anything".
She stared at him disbelievingly. "I can't believe you. You're just going to pretend like none of this ever happened, aren't you?"
"I don't see any reason to rehash the past, Sara", he muttered, looking away.
Sara scoffed, sinking back in her chair. "Yeah. What a surprise".
Silence descended over the room, and Grissom turned his head back down to his paperwork, an obvious, curt sign of dismissal. Sara remained sitting firmly where she was, watching him quietly.
She knew that getting him to open up about Alex Townsend was going to be an impossible task. It was a wound she was sure Grissom had never truly gotten over, and it was something they had never discussed since she came to work for him in Vegas. Not that they had ever really broached any remotely personal topic for years, and they certainly never discussed their lives before Vegas.
She was still fairly certain that to this day, none of the others, not even Catherine, had the slightest inkling as to how their knew each other.
Privacy was something they both valued, but Sara couldn't help but wonder if he concealed these things out of courtesy, or because he was ashamed.
He looked deeply immersed in whatever material he was reading, but Sara knew him well enough to know he was too distracted by her presence.
"Do you think he did it?" she asked, after a while.
She saw a muscle in Grissom's countenance twitch, but his gaze refused to leave the paper at her question. Another long, pregnant pause filled the room, and she wondered if he was even going to acknowledge that she had spoken at all.
"We don't have enough evidence to assert that yet", he responded carefully at last.
Sara pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair tersely. She continued to stare at him, until he was forced to reluctantly lift his eyes to meet her dark, intense stare.
"I know", she said softly, attempting to convey to him that she understood how difficult this was for him to examine. "But do you?"
Grissom's cool blue eyes remained fixed on hers slowly, and she forced herself to breathe in again when he finally glanced away.
"I don't know", he admitted hollowly, a raw, unusual honesty colouring his tone.
She nodded, satisfied with his reply, and she looked away too. It was a topic both of them had thought they would never have to deal with, and certainly not after this long.
Sara shook her head ironically. The past always reared up, in one form or another. She just didn't know if she was going to have a passenger on the ride, or if she was facing this one alone.
San Francisco, 1994
"So. How's life in Sin City treating you?"
Grissom's eyes drifted up from the layer of condensation on the table to glance in Alex's direction.
The older man's eyes glittered with familiar amusement as they danced around the warm, typical Californian bar, a popular attraction for university students and staff alike.
His palms slid over the smooth surface of the table, and he stared at Grissom expectantly, though the entomologist suspected he had more than a little of his attention focused on the pair of female students who had just wandered amiably into the establishment.
Grissom concealed a disapproving sigh, inwardly wondering when Alex was going to tire of such behaviour. Probably not soon. He was a lively, self-professed bachelor and Grissom had no doubt he would most likely stay that way.
"Well, Gil? Still not thinking of relocating back to good old LA?"
Grissom smiled slightly, shaking his head leisurely. "No. I think LA and I have definitely outgrown each other".
Alex smiled, nodding slowly. "I never would have pegged you for a Vegas type, Gil."
"It has the biggest crime rate in North America, Alex", Grissom informed him tolerantly.
Alex grinned in enjoyment, drawing a long swig from his beer. "Well, in relation to you, that makes a large amount of sense. Whereas to anyone else, that would be an instant repellent."
Grissom shrugged indifferently, taking a sip from his own drink. He decided to change the subject.
"You saw the whole seminar?"
Alex nodded, looking thoughtful. "You got quite the turnout this year."
"Not exactly the kind I was hoping for".
He shrugged loosely. "There's a lull in forensics majors, Gil. We can't help that. Not many people wake up one day and say, 'hey, I think I want to look at dead people all day.'"
Grissom shot him an unforgiving frown. "I never thought I'd hear you demean our careers like that, Alex".
Alex rolled his eyes, gesturing his hand impatiently. "I'm just being realistic, Gil. Most normal people see us as ghouls of some sort. And it's your career, not mine. I'm just a college professor".
Grissom frowned deeply, considering. He'd never thought of his job that way, or himself in that perception. It was a profession, not an aberration.
Silence descended over the table briefly, the low buzz of the bar acting as gentle background noise, and Grissom straightened thoughtfully.
"You know, that's not entirely true", he countered at last, after another casual sip of his beverage. "I met a student today who has a genuine interest in the field. In fact, she works in forensics".
He cast his thought back to the pretty brunette he had met earlier that day. He hadn't meant to share his meeting with Sara to Alex. For some reason, he had wanted to keep it to himself. But he wanted to prove a point to Alex, and that usually meant he didn't think about what he was saying first.
Alex apparently caught onto his pause, and eyed him over slyly. "Her, huh?"
Grissom resisted the urge to narrow his eyes in irritation. Alex's immediate assumption that any meeting with a woman was automatically sexual grated on his nerves. For some reason, it bothered him to discuss Sara that way.
Alex must have recognised his annoyance, and lifted an eyebrow vaguely, an evident sign of dismissal. "Well, at least you're getting through to someone".
Grissom shot him a weary look. Alex leant back in his side of the booth.
"So, how's your team?" he asked abruptly. "And that young lady friend of yours, what's her name?"
"Catherine", Grissom supplied, relaxing slightly at the mention of his friend. Catherine was a safe topic. "She's fine. She's already applying for her CSI level 3 qualification."
Alex smiled at his friend's enthusiasm. "That's nice". He considered Grissom thoughtfully. "You know, it's a shame she's married", he said casually.
Grissom rolled his eyes. "Alex, Catherine is my friend. I resent any other implication."
Alex held up his hands. "All right. Still, you do need a woman in your life. How often do you date, Gil?"
Grissom inwardly sighed. Alex usually brought this up around his second drink. "Enough", he said shortly.
Alex smiled, obviously sensing Grissom's firm reluctance to travel down that route of conversation.
"Well, who's for a refill, hmm?" he said cheerfully, rising to his feet as if there was no sign of an impending disagreement.
Grissom shook his head. "None for me, thanks", he turned down politely. "I have to drive to my hotel".
"Fair enough. I'll be back".
Grissom leant back in his seat, watching as Alex smoothly made his way across to the bar. Seated on two barstools nearby were the blonde pair who had walked in earlier, and Alex turned to them with an easy, charming smile, effortlessly striking up a conversation.
Grissom watched them for a few moments, before turning to his own thoughts abstractedly.
He really did have to prepare for tomorrow's lecture. He did know most of the material by heart, but it didn't hurt to have that extra assurance, he told himself.
He rested his chin vaguely in his thumb, and his thoughts involuntarily drifted back to the young criminalist he had met that afternoon. Sara Sidle.
He inwardly scoffed at Alex's initial assessment. He was hardly going to take any advice from the professor. He respected his opinion as a colleague, but in a personal light he generally made decisions that were less than upstanding. Or ethical, he thought vaguely, glancing idly over at his friend.
Still, he was oddly struck by Sara. She had left an impression on him that he couldn't quite decipher. He was certainly impressed by her intelligence. It was unusual to find someone her age so mature and easy to talk to. But there was something else about her that he found… entrancing, for lack of a better word. Yes, entrancing was actually very appropriate.
After a few minutes, Alex returned, full beer in hand. He smiled at Grissom sanguinely.
"Sorry! Took a bit longer than expected".
I'll bet, Grissom thought inwardly. He only nodded.
"Well, I should head off soon. I have some work to do before tomorrow."
Alex nodded, seemingly distracted. "Don't stay on my account".
Grissom hesitated, and made a few more minutes small talk before saying goodbye and taking his leave. He swept his jacket over his arm, glancing back over his shoulder nonchalantly as he left.
One of the blonde girls had taken up his vacant seat across from Alex, and they were both bent forward, engaged in silent, flirty conversation.
Grissom forced himself to continue on his way, sighing deeply. He was unable to prevent a faint, inkling of unease as it settled in his gut and he attempted to ignore it.