Cause and Effect: Chapter seven
"Gil, wait."
Grissom firmly ignored Catherine's bustling attempt to follow him as he strode briskly for his office, not bothering to slow in his pace, sending several lab techs scattering in the process.
At last, he reached the cool, muted interior, and was half-tempted to close the door in her face. The blonde was too quick for him, and stepped firmly over the threshold before closing it behind herself.
He barely glanced at her, bending over his desk and brusquely gathering together a stack of his paperwork, intending to give himself something to do over the duration of his unforeseen suspension.
"Grissom, what the hell just happened in there?" she demanded disbelievingly, ignorant to the rigid line of his shoulders, or the jerky, stiltedness of his movements.
Grissom ignored her, depositing the files roughly in his briefcase. "Catherine, I'm really not in the mood to talk about this", he grunted insensibly.
She huffed impatiently, hands flying to her hips. Even with his back to her, he could feel her sharp blue eyes piercing his back with resolve. "Well that's too damn bad, because we're going to talk about it".
He turned to face her, dropping the case with a sudden resonant thud on his desk. He had been fully prepared to resign himself to his fate, but Catherine wasn't going to let him do that. "What do you want me to say?"
Catherine stared back at him, barely flinching in the face of his unexpected anger, prepared to get to the bottom of what she'd just witnessed. "Was Ecklie onto something in there?" she asked bluntly.
A deep scowl lined his weary features. He knew better than to think she would be discrete about what she had heard in Ecklie's office.
She plunged recklessly ahead, heedless to his discomfort. "Look, I'll agree that Ecklie has his head rammed so far up his ass where you're concerned that he'd suspend you over a lot less", she said evenly. "But you're hiding something, Grissom, and… it's just not like you. Do you want to think about what you're doing here? You're jeopardising your career for what? Alex Townsend? Sara?"
His blue eyes narrowed like ice, and his tongue felt thick and slow. Why couldn't she just leave it? "Leave Sara out of this".
"Like hell I will", she spat angrily, jabbing her perfectly manicured finger at him mid-air. He wasn't sure if she was pushing this because she was professionally concerned for him, or if it was for some as yet unknown personal advancement. He realised that couldn't honestly make that judgement about her inner motives.
"Did you have a relationship before she came here?" she demanded frankly. "Is that what this is about?"
Grissom couldn't believe he was discussing this again. His fingers seized around the corner of his desk with a death-iron grip. "What is it about my earlier statement that is so difficult to understand, Catherine?" he said tightly.
She scoffed derisively, shaking her head at her own stupidity. "You're right, of course you didn't. We wouldn't have had to deal with your constant Goddamned unresolved sexual tension the last four and a half years if you had!"
Grissom clenched his jaw incredulously, but even in his indignation he couldn't look at her. "Catherine!"
She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands in the air. "You know what, fine! I tried to do the right thing here by asking you first, but obviously I'm just going to have to wait for the investigation to find out what this is about."
She whirled, blonde hair rushing rapidly behind her, flicking against her cheek. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, glaring back at him angrily.
"And don't think I won't find out, Gil", she said flatly. "Because if this case is about Alex Townsend, its just as much going to be about you".
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All members of the nightshift and swingshift combined sat around the conference table, an air of distinct tension suffusing the break room. Their conflicting expressions all mirrored an obvious inability to deal with Catherine's sudden and unexpected announcement.
"Grissom was suspended?" Nick repeated, sounding vaguely horrified. "Why?"
Catherine's gaze darted briefly over Sara, and Sara shifted uncomfortably under the blonde's sudden razor-sharp scrutiny. Great. What else had they discussed in their meeting?
"He had a prior relationship with a suspect", she explained succinctly, as if daring them to question her further. "He didn't mention it to Ecklie".
Nick frowned, descending into an unsettled silence. Greg sat beside him, fidgeting and looking likewise perplexed. He shot his own fleeting glance in Sara's direction, before returning his quiet stare to the table.
Sofia straightened in her seat, oblivious to the room's discomfort. "Who's in charge of our shift?" she inquired politely.
Catherine's eyes darted over her own team, and she sighed heavily, visibly unhappy with the conclusion Ecklie had obviously come to. "For the time being, Warrick is going to be acting supervisor."
Warrick's only response to this was to lift an impassive eyebrow, but Nick's eyes shot up in surprise. "What?" he exclaimed irritably. "That means we're only working with a two-person shift, Cath! How are we supposed to manage the caseload?"
Weary lines crinkled Catherine eyes as she turned to him, clearly expecting his opposition. "I spoke to Ecklie about that. He's decided to temporarily move Sofia over from nightshift."
Sofia looked genuinely irritated by this news, and Sara couldn't blame her. Being constantly budged from shift to shift was hardly helping her professional development. She dimly wondered what the blonde had done to get into Ecklie's bad books. "How many times are our shifts going to be reshuffled?"
Catherine sighed in tired exasperation. "Well, I'm sorry, but there's not a lot I can do about it now. Sofia, Nick and I will take over Audrey Fraiser's case. Graveshift will transfer over some of our cases to balance the load. For the time being, this is how it's going to be. At least until Grissom is reinstated."
Quiet, dissatisfied silence fell over the table and Sara glanced down at her hands, remaining silent. She couldn't believe Ecklie had over exaggerated like this. Actually, no, she could believe it. He had been looking for another excuse to bring Grissom's professional leadership into question for months now, and this was just an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
Slowly, the meeting broke up, and everyone retreated back to their respective workstations. Sara lingered in her chair, shuddering slightly. None of them had said it, but she could see the doubt shining in the eyes of her colleagues. Her presence on the case hadn't been discussed, but she was obviously removed from it, and all of them knew there was a reason why.
She closed her eyes, cradling her forehead tiredly in her palm.
Grissom had seemed confident he wouldn't lose his job the last time he covered for her. But what if he was wrong? What if he was fired this time?
She had played his mournful confession to Lurie over and over in her mind for the past year, and added to his precedent behaviour, she knew what it ultimately meant. He wasn't willing to get involved with her because it would risk his career, and everything he had worked for. If he lost all of that because of her now… She knew he would never forgive her.
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San Francisco, 1994She straightened her light, wine-coloured blouse unconsciously as she crossed the campus grounds, heels sinking in the moist lawn as she cut obliquely across it.
Her mass of generally disorderly curls were pulled up in a stylish, yet modest style, and she wondered if she had overdone it a little on the 'neat casual' dress-code.
The modest function hall the university frequently used for events was dimly lit with a scattering of strategically pre-arranged fairy lights, and opened into a small courtyard where several buffet tables had been set up.
Small clusters of students and staff stood chatting softly around the entrance and inner hall, and a distinct, relaxed atmosphere enclosed the room.
Sara strode inside, eyes darting around almost unconsciously, not for the man she voluntarily sought, but the one she didn't.
Why did you come here if you knew he would be here?She bit her inner lip, knowing the answer to that even before she properly formulated the question.
Gil Grissom.
Why else? The seminar was over in a few short days, and he would be returning to his life in Vegas. Their brief, but amicable student/teacher relationship had been swift and a learning curve for her certainly, but there was some intangible gravitation between them that she just felt the unprecedented need to…. explore.
Sara didn't generally seek out men. Relationships came to her, and she was willing to let them. Unlike many other women her age, she never felt that inherent desire to marry and settle down as soon as possible. Her career had always been her main concern, and anything else was just… secondary. Fun. Casual.
Predictable.
She didn't like her unwitting attraction to Grissom. It was new and completely terrifying just as it was thrilling, and it was something she was unable to control. For Sara, who spent her entire teenage and adult years attempting to maintain complete and utter power over the life she had had no bearing over as a child, that was unacceptable.
She scoffed to herself, standing awkwardly by the buffet. Why had she come here? She glanced down almost unconsciously; still feeling the dull, hidden bruises that grazed the knuckles of her hand, and knew it had been doubly a mistake.
She turned with a sudden steadfast resolve, intent on leaving her ridiculous, idealistic fantasies far, far behind —
and almost walked directly into one object of her contemplation.
Sara blinked, unwilling drawn to the infinite, impossibly blue crystal eyes of Gil Grissom, slender frame quivering almost imperceptibly.
He looked good. Again, she hated that she noticed, but he was a very attractive man. His chiselled figure was clad in a plan black jacket and button up shirt, and his tousled brown curls shifted slightly as he glanced at her. His blue eyes were crinkled and amused, and she found it genuinely difficult to believe this man was nearing forty.
And she also wondered why it was she sensed he enjoyed their meetings as much as she did.
"Uh, hi", she said slowly, finding her voice. She glanced down, realising how close they were, and quickly stepped away.
A smile twitched at his lips. "Leaving?" he guessed, eyes drifting nonchalantly over her. She didn't miss the fleeting, almost indiscernible glimmer of admiration, and she decided the outfit had definitely been worth it.
She licked her lips, earlier plans all but forgotten. "Not at all", she answered softly.
He nodded pleasantly. "Good. I was wondering if you were going to show up. I haven't seen you for a while".
She hesitated, wondering if he'd sensed she'd been avoiding him. Well, not him, perse, just his seminar by association.
"I've been, uh, a little busy at the lab", she conceded carefully.
Which was true. Sort of. Chris had her working overtime on a convenience store robbery. She'd just solved it earlier than he had expected her to.
Grissom simply accepted her explanation, glancing around vaguely. "I don't really understand why they don't hold these events at the start of the seminar", he admitted conversationally.
Sara smiled. "You don't sound like you enjoy them very much".
Grissom was an impressive speaker, but he struck her as the type to enjoy a quiet, undisturbed evening at home rather than voluntarily socialising. Kind of like her.
"Well, I have to admit I'm a little impatient to return to Las Vegas", he said lightly.
"I guess teaching isn't the same as getting out there, is it?" Sara mused thoughtfully.
He glanced at her, surprised agreement lighting his eyes. "It's an occasional indulgence. I prefer going out into the field much more".
She nodded, surprised herself that she understood that need. "Me too".
They gazed at each other a moment, until the sudden, not at all uncomfortable intensity was broken by a cheerful, high-spirited male voice.
"I have to tell you, Gil, I think they overcompensated with the champagne a little, but really, who am I to complain?"
The low, charming timbered voice struck a cord within her, and she felt herself freeze, and time seemed to take on an infinite quality as she slowly turned to discover the source.
Alex's casual brown gaze drifted down to hers immediately, and the unhidden flash of panic was visible for a fleeting moment before being carefully concealed behind a cool mask.
Grissom, sensing something off between the two of them, uncertainly cleared his throat. "Uh, Sara, this is—"
"I know who he is", she interrupted flatly, taking a sudden immense difficulty to maintain her composure. She lowered her dark eyes, stepping abruptly away from Grissom in the process.
"Excuse me, I have to go", she muttered, not caring how rude she was being, but knowing she had to get out of there right then. She felt her stomach roll unsteadily, and the overhead lights were suddenly too warm on her face, making a steady, anxious flush creep up her neck.
She backed unsteadily away from them, whirling and stalking rapidly for the exit.
Grissom blinked after Sara's sudden departure, a disturbing sensation welling instinctively in the depths of his gut.
Alex swivelled his champagne glass idly in one hand, glancing after her briefly with a careless disregard. "That was a little rude, don't you think?"
Grissom's eyes flitted over him, and Alex glanced at him momentarily, lifting a sage eyebrow. "What? Don't tell me that's the girl you were telling me about", he realised slowly. "The one who works in forensics?"
Grissom frowned, deeply troubled by the professor's sudden reaction. "Does it matter if she is?"
He wouldn't meet Grissom's eyes, staring vacantly out the far window. "I'd stay away from her if I were you, Gil".
Grissom stared at him, uncomprehending. "Why?"
"Just trust me on this", Alex said, more forcibly than necessary, and clutched the glass firmly to his side. "I need some fresh air", he muttered, shifting through the sudden congestion of crowd toward the courtyard doors.
Grissom stood on his own, staring after his newly departed friend disbelievingly. Was he telling the truth? Was there something he didn't know about Sara, something that needed to be avoided? Her sudden exit certainly suggested she wanted to be nowhere near his vicinity while he was with Alex. Was it because Alex knew something he didn't?
He glanced after Alex, allowing his paranoia to manifest fully. The truth that he had been so adamantly unwilling to see was suddenly becoming startlingly clear to him.
Lowering his own untouched glass to the surface of a nearby table, he made a decision.
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Sara stood impatiently behind a bronze-tanned, dark haired guy with a fraternity jacket bunched around his forearms huddled in the phonebooth, who had suddenly decided now was the opportune time to break up with his girlfriend.
She tapped her foot on the nearby pavement, huffing a breath impatiently. Like this night could get any worse. She just wanted to go home, bury herself under her warm, expensively frivolous covers and pretend this had just never happened.
She closed her eyes in frustration, restraining herself from pacing the length of the sidewalk like some caged loon, when a warm hand on her shoulder startled her from her inner diatribe.
"Sara".
She whirled around, heart hammering painfully, and her hand instinctively flew up to land over her chest.
Grissom lowered his hand to his side, looking hesitant and uncomfortable, and he shifted apologetically. "Sorry".
She kept her gaze focused firmly ahead, staring out into the expansive, darkened campus instead of into his piercing, blue gaze.
"What do you want, Grissom?"
Even in the shadows, she could see him frown in the corner of her eye. "I came to see… if you wanted a ride home".
"I can call a taxi", she said flatly, folding her arms protectively over her midsection.
Grissom glanced at the phonebooth, where the frat boy was now pleading with his girlfriend to stop screaming at him. "I don't think you'll be doing that any time soon".
She shrugged impatiently, narrowing her eyes. "Then I'll find another phonebooth".
"Sara…"
He sighed deeply, and strode around her side, so he was standing directly in her line of sight. "I can't pretend to understand what happened back there, but I think I have some idea", he said quietly.
Her eyes darted over his. He looked uncomfortable. Why wouldn't he? He didn't really know her, and Alex Townsend was obviously his friend. "I wasn't aware you two knew each other", she muttered, fluttered her eyes downward. "Which is stupid, because you're speaking at the seminar, and he's on the forensics department…"
"I wasn't aware you knew him, either", he admitted quietly, stuffing his hands awkwardly in his pockets. "But I guess it suddenly makes a great deal of sense."
Sara frowned, unfolding her arms to look at him squarely. "Grissom, I'd… I'd appreciate a ride home", she admitted. "But other than that… I really don't want to talk about it".
He pursed his lips, and she realised she was glimpsing another side of him, the side that dealt with hysterical victims and grieving relatives every day. He possessed a calmness and outer serenity that she found strangely enveloping, and despite her incapacity to trust others, she found herself immediately trusting him.
"All right", he said, with a practised care, hand unconsciously closing over her elbow in a distinctly chivalrous manner. "I'll take you to my car".
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