You Can't Live With Them, You Can't Live Without Them
TEASER: Grissom deals with the women in his life. Response to the 5-9 Unbound Improv Challenge.
RATING: T for language
SPOILERS: Season 5 through "Weeping Willows".
DISCLAIMERS: Just for fun – no remuneration involved, just my gratitude to the creative geniuses who write and enact such terrific scripts.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Reviews appreciated, archived at my site, and is anyone else a little irritated with Catherine for her behavior in that awfully titled but well-written episode? First and last lines given, 1000 word limit for the story itself; according to MS Word 2003, I made it with 5 words to spare.
CSI CSI CSI
"And I don't even know what a sphincter is!" Lindsey Willow's scream echoed as Grissom unlocked his door and tried to slip inside unnoticed.
Lindsey spotted him and barreled in, slamming the door closed and plopping into a guest chair in one motion.
"Lindsey?" He sat down at his desk and steepled his hands in front of him, willing himself to be calm.
"I hate her." She glared toward her mother's office. That look should have shattered the glass walls. "Can I come live with you, Uncle Gil?"
He sat back a little. "You're upset with her."
"Well, duh, Sherlock."
"She won't let you go see Green Day?" he guessed, remembering that tickets for the October concert would be going on sale in the next few days.
"She told you? God, I bet she tells you everything."
"Hardly, Lindsey, but it's not hard to figure out what you want, given your room." Every wall had Green Day posters plastered on it.
"Yeah, well, she's being a bitch . . ." She gulped when he raised his hand and wagged his finger at her. ". . . witch about it. I took the trash out last week without asking, but she even got pissed at me for that." The little blonde slumped in the chair, her anger losing power as she ran out of complaints.
Grissom wondered if Catherine had been looking for a matchbook with Adam Novac's phone number.
"Uncle Gil, she called the cops on some guy last week, too. That's not like Mom."
He rubbed his eyes. "She had a rotten week last week, Lindsey. It's not fair for her to take it out on you, but it's not your fault."
Her lip trembled and she wiped her nose with her arm. "Does she love me, Uncle Gil?" she asked, her voice very small and frightened.
He pushed his chair back from his desk and opened his arms to her. She threw herself into his embrace and buried her head on his chest, wracked with sobs as only a child can be. "Shhh, it's okay, sweetie. Your mom loves you very much." He rocked her and repeated his mantra until she calmed down.
He thought she'd fallen asleep when she looked into his eyes. "You should be somebody's dad, Uncle Gil. You'd be very good at it."
Something lurched in his chest. He had a vision of Sara holding an infant, a fantasy of the life he would never have. "Thank you," he whispered. "You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah. You're the best, Uncle Gil." She clambered down and scooted to the door.
"Lindsey?"
"Sir?" The door swung open under her hand as she looked at him, a question in her grey-blue eyes.
"'One forgives to the degree that one loves.' Francois de La Rochefoucauld."
"I think I get that. Thanks!" She bounded through his door and skipped down the hallway toward her mother's office.
Catherine appeared at his door 20 minutes later and repeated the quote. "Lindsey says she completely forgives me for blowing up at her lately."
He smiled. "She loves you."
"God knows why. I'm such a lousy mother." She came in without closing the door and sat down in the chair her daughter had occupied.
He slid the pile of papers to the side and cocked back in his chair. "Why? You got clean and sober, earned a college degree, got a professional job with prospects for advancement, and provide everything your daughter needs."
Catherine's derisive snort echoed off the walls. "Yeah, well, that's the rub. I'm not sure I am giving her everything she needs."
"Like?"
"Me. My mother is great, but she's not Lindsey's mother. I spend so much time wrapped up here trying to keep this damned job that I'm risking losing her, but if I lose the job, I could lose her anyway."
"I doubt Sam Braun would let you starve."
"I could lose her to Sam."
Grissom nodded, seeing her point.
"She's got you, but she needs a father figure."
For a moment, he wondered if Catherine were going to proposition him. "I'd agree with that."
She gazed into the distance through his small window. "And unlike some of us, I need to go out, but I hav-"
He took a shot in the dark. "What about Warrick?"
She whipped her head around. "Warrick?"
"Catherine, I were ever as obvious about my attraction to anyone as Warrick is about you, you should have dope slapped me a long time ago."
"Consider yourself dope slapped."
He groaned. "Do I want to know?"
"You know. I'll ask Warrick out if you ask Sara out."
He thought for a few seconds. "Okay. For a night this weekend." Catherine didn't stipulate that the other person had to say yes and Sara would never agree.
"Deal. You still getting those tickets for Lindsey's birthday?"
"Third row center. You and Warrick can take her." He smirked.
"I vote for you and Sara. Got to run. I'm actually going to Lindsey's softball game today." She left with only a wave from the door.
He had barely gotten the papers back in front of him when Sara knocked on the frame. "Got a minute?"
She looked happy, which could be good or bad for him. But he liked to see her smile, so he waved her in.
She closed the door and sat down, crossing her legs at the knee. "'One forgives to the degree one loves.' Profound."
"Lindsey travels fast."
"She thinks fast, too."
"What did she do, ask you how much you've forgiven me?"
"Actually, she did." Sara cocked her head and gave him a full, brilliant smile.
"You've forgiven me completely for all the bone-headed things I've done since we met."
"Yeah."
His heart lurched again when his brain realized what she meant. "Dinner Friday?"
She twisted her lips. "I was just going to ask that."
He laughed. "I just realized that my entire job can be done by guessing."
--Fin--
