Author's Notes: Thanks for the feedback, guys. I'm glad you're enoying this (and I'm glad some of you are enjoying it again lol).
Heroes and Villains: Chapter five
Sara stared down at her tea, and didn't know whether to be embarrassed or grateful at Grissom's hesitant attempts to comfort her.
After the scene in the parking lot, he had driven her home, and she still couldn't forget the warm, safe feeling of his arms around her.
He leant uncertainly against her kitchen counter, watching her quietly, looking out of place in her apartment, and she hated to tell him that she really didn't feel like any tea, because he looked so earnest and hopeful.
So she shut up, and took a sip.
The hot liquid ran down her throat, and she barely registered the taste. The temperate did jolt her out of her musings however, and she glanced up at Grissom over the rim of her cup.
"So how many people saw my, uh, major meltdown?" she asked at last, lowering the mug to the veneer of the table.
Grissom looked hesitant, and ran a hand over his beard vaguely. She found the gesture comforting, in a way, because it was a familiar sign of contemplation for him. "A few…" he admitted awkwardly.
She smiled humourlessly, glancing down at the table. "Yeah. That's what I thought".
She gestured to him absently, knowing that she had more than likely freaked him out with such rapid shows of emotion one after the other. "You don't have to stay here, Grissom. You can go home. I'm fine now, really".
Grissom sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Are things really so bad between us that you can't talk to me anymore, Sara?"
She frowned slightly, lifting an eyebrow at the unexpected comment. "Things have gotten better", she said softly, haltingly. She wasn't sure she even really believed that one.
He pursed his lips, shrugging faintly. "But things aren't like they were, are they?"
She chuckled slightly, but it was sad. "Grissom… things can't ever be like they used to be. I definitely made sure of that".
He glanced at her sharply. "Look, Sara… The last time you said that I wanted to tell you… The things that have happened between us are my fault. You know that, don't you?"
She shrugged, frowning slightly. "Why the sudden personal admissions, Grissom. Are you trying to get me to share mine?"
He didn't look away. "Maybe."
She sighed deeply, wrapping the string of the teabag vaguely around her index finger. Grissom's sudden keen desire to know her past was understandable, but uncharacteristic. She supposed she owed him an explanation after her display that morning, which was sure to be all over the office by next shift, but Grissom rarely showed an interest in pursuing any personal conversation with her. She knew they intimidated him, and the fact that he had initiated this one gave her pause.
"Do you know both of your parents, Grissom?" she asked at last, quietly.
He slowly lowered himself into the chair opposite her, watching her intently. "No. I don't. My father left when I was five."
She nodded, smiling slightly. "My PEAP counsellor said to me you can learn a lot about people by their relationship with their parents."
He shrugged carefully. "Does that explain anything about me?"
She met his gaze, mocha brown eyes fixated on his levelly. He shifted, feeling uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Sara Sidle was a very perceptive woman, and if there was one thing he didn't like, it was having her focus her perceptions on him.
"A little", she admitted softly, enigmatically.
Grissom cleared his throat. "Your father died when you were a child", he surmised quietly.
She looked away, pressing her lips together. "He died when I was ten", she answered reluctantly. "A brain aneurism."
"I'm sorry", he offered tentatively.
She shrugged. "Yeah, well. It happens, doesn't it?"
She looked contemplative. "We owned a Bed and Breakfast when I was a kid. It was his pride and joy." She sighed. "I always had bigger ambitions than that, but he was happy to stay in Tamales Bay forever, just running his little business." She shrugged. "He died pretty suddenly. It was the first time I ever realised that he was the one that held our family together."
Grissom remained quiet, allowing her to tell her story without prompting or rushing her. It was a technique he had learnt well in interrogations, in order to get a confession out of a suspect. But he didn't want to pressure Sara.
"Did your mother… raise you by herself?" she asked, shifting the conversation back to him when her memories become too painful. Grissom found himself allowing her to disclose his secrets, something he would never have allowed of anyone else. "Did she ever remarry?"
"No. She raised me alone."
She nodded, looking thoughtful. "My mother wasn't that strong. She needed the support. The B&B started to attract some pretty shady people. She… met a lot of men, that way", she muttered distastefully.
"There was this one guy that stuck though. Chris. The business went broke after he showed up and he just stayed around. I didn't like him, but I didn't see him for what he really was until he lived with us for a few months."
She stopped, gazing down at something on the table. Grissom sighed. "What happened, Sara?"
She pursed her lips. "He… hit my brother first. He was nearly sixteen, but Chris was a lot bigger than him. When he got older, he barely came home just to stay away from him."
She swallowed, glancing down at her now cold tea. "I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised when he moved on to me".
She saw Grissom's face twitch in the corner of her eye, but she didn't look up. "The thing is, my mother didn't do anything about it. He hit her too, but I was an easier target. As long as he didn't touch her, she didn't care what he did. She needed him around so much that she was willing to let him hurt me." She stopped, closing her eyes painfully.
"Sara…"
"It's okay". She waved a hand glibly, avoiding his gaze. "When I was thirteen, everything changed. I got home from school one night, and I knew something had happened. Everything was… quiet. I went upstairs, and there was blood… everywhere. All over the banister, and the floor. Chris was lying in the hallway, in a pool of his own blood. She killed him. My mother had found him sleeping with someone else, and that's why she did it. Not because he hurt her children, or her, but because he was with another woman."
She scoffed, drawing circles in the condensation on the table vehemently. "The police couldn't prove it, but they made me testify against her, and… the jury believed me. I had to testify against my own mother. I hate her, but that was just… After that they… put me into foster care until I was sixteen. My brother got custody of me, but I went to Harvard a year early to get away from him, because he was so screwed up."
She stopped, glancing up at him slowly, and a long pause descended over the room.
"That's why I became a CSI", she admitted, running a hand vaguely through her short brown locks. "To stop people doing things like that to each other. You might accuse me of having too much empathy, Grissom, but my past helps me understand victims better than most people."
He frowned. "I can't believe… that this was your childhood, Sara".
She shrugged. "Everyone has demons, Grissom. Everyone has issues in their past. They might not be as obvious as mine are, but they're still there."
She looked down again. "You know… it wasn't until I met you that I actually started to like what I did. You were so interested and passionate about it, and just listening to you talk about it… it made me realise that it could be something I could really love. So… I guess I wanted to thank you, for that".
Grissom's expression was indiscernible, but he looked slightly troubled. "There was potential in you that had nothing to do with my influence, Sara", he said gently. "I knew that as soon as I saw you".
Her brow lifted slightly, as if she was considering that he might have noticed her before they were actually introduced.
"I read through the case file", she said, abruptly changing subjects. She rose from her chair, bracing her hands on the back as if to physically distance herself from him now she had bared her soul so completely. "Not all of it, but a bit. I know that my opinion probably isn't going to matter much after this… but I don't think she did it".
Grissom glanced up at her, genuinely confused. "Why not?"
Sara exhaled tiredly. "She isn't the type of person who would let… money motivate her like that", she explained. "I just don't think… what she did to Chris was personal. This isn't like that".
"She's killed before, Sara", he reminded her gently. "It's been twenty years. If she could survive prison after that… It's a valid assumption."
Sara frowned. "Look, I know it would be an easy solution if it was her. I just don't think it is, okay?"
He nodded, sensing her frustration. "Okay. Sara, you know I'm not going to choose the easy way out. I'm going to follow the evidence. No matter where it takes us".
Sara chewed her lip. "I heard the Sheriff has been pressuring you about the case".
Grissom's face instantly clouded over at the mention of the Sheriff. "Yeah. He has".
"Does he know… everything?"
"Not yet. I thought it would be better to determine whether or not your… Laura was our primary suspect, before I informed him of your connection to her".
She nodded shortly, grateful that he seemed to be acting unusually sensitively because of her. "Thanks. I appreciate it".
She hesitated, drumming her slender fingers over the back of her chair. "Grissom, I um… I want you to know that I… I'm grateful for all you're doing for me. Keeping this to yourself and… and letting me tell you everything first".
Grissom glanced up at her, cobalt eyes intense and unreadable. "Despite where our… relationship has ended up, I still care, Sara", he responded quietly.
Sara swallowed, unable to let go of his gaze. "I know".
He nodded, looking away first. He slowly climbed to his feet, so they were once again at eye-level "Are you… concerned that Laura might try and contact you?" he asked cautiously.
Sara cleared her throat, quickly shaking her head. "No, after today I don't think… In case you haven't noticed, she's a pretty intelligent woman."
Grissom lifted an eyebrow sagely. "Yes. I noticed".
She slowly strode around the table, moving over to the small cluttered desk in the corner. She lifted a familiar brown folder from the assorted papers, moving back over to him. "Here", she said, holding it deftly towards him. "You probably need to read this now".
Grissom's gaze went from her to the folder, expression slightly sad. She knew then that he had been the one to leave it there.
"I'm sorry", he said, sincerely.
Sara blinked. "You're sorry for what?" she asked uncomprehendingly.
He sighed. "I should have… asked you about this years ago".
Sara frowned, placing the folder on the table in front of him when he didn't accept it.
"It's my issue, Grissom. I thought I could keep it in the past and I was wrong. It's nobody's fault but my own".
He hesitated, sliding a broad hand over the top of the casefile. "I'll let you get some rest then".
Sara nodded, slowly striding behind him as he started for the door. He stopped in the threshold, and Sara leant against the door, eyeing him questioningly.
"Sara… I don't want things to be like this between us anymore".
Sara tilted an eyebrow, but she looked down. "Look, it's been a long day. Maybe we should just… leave things for now."
She didn't know why she was pulling back from he was trying to say, but it was probably a self-preservation instinct more than anything else. She had just shared more with him than she had ever shared with anyone – at least anyone she cared about – and it was expected for him to feel some compulsion towards her, out of guilt or sympathy. She didn't want to deal with it right now, when he was only going to pull back after this situation was resolved.
She couldn't read Grissom's expression, but he almost looked disappointed. "Yeah. Of course."
Before she could stop herself, she leant forward on her heels, and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his cheek, just above the roughness of his stubble. "Thanks", she whispered softly, allowing him to see her gratitude. He blinked as she pulled back again, looking surprised, but he nodded slowly.
When she closed the door, he took a moment to right himself, clutching the folder against his chest. His cheek still tingled from where she had kissed him, and he was deeply confused. No one left him reeling quite like Sara Sidle.
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Warrick downed his third Styrofoam cup of coffee, narrowing his eyes down at the jumble of words on the paperwork spread out in front of him.
He glanced at the clock mounted on the breakroom wall, noting that it was near the start of his actual shift. He had been working since 4am that morning, struggling to get the last of one of his cases ready for court.
He spotted Grissom's familiar form disappear into his office, and his frown deepened. He hadn't seen much of the old team lately, and he'd been too busy to even chat with Nick or Cath, but he'd heard the rumours running around the office just like everybody else.
As far as he knew, the graveyard had been acting strangely on their current case for a while, and then Sara had had to be physically restrained from attacking one of their suspects this morning, apparently. It had been around the time he had gone down to the deli for a breakfast break, and he hadn't been around to witness it, but everyone was saying that she knew the woman.
Some of the rumours were pretty out there, even for this lab. Before Greg joined their ranks he had been pretty heavily involved in the office rumour mill, but Warrick knew since they lost his input the key gossips were Bobby Dawson and David Hodges, the latter with more malice than the former.
Warrick stretched, massaging the space behind his eyes. The most popular theory circulating was that she was Sara's mother. He didn't know what to make of that, but he didn't like hearing about it secondhand. Sara was his friend, and he was genuinely concerned about her. He decided to take a break.
Grissom's office door was closed, and Warrick knocked softly, peering cautiously inside. "Hey Griss".
Grissom was staring intently at several photographs spread out on his desk, and he glanced up, quickly sliding them under some papers. "Warrick."
Warrick lifted an eyebrow, striding in slowly. "Bad time?"
Grissom shrugged. "No. Not at all. Come in".
Warrick closed the door behind him, slouching in the chair opposite Grissom's desk. "I've heard some pretty interesting things lately."
Grissom sighed, looking tired. Warrick spotted the dark circles under his eyes and wondered when the last time was he got any sleep. "I bet I can guarantee most of them are inaccurate."
Warrick shrugged. "That's what I figured. Which is why I wanted to check in. Everything okay?"
His old boss looked slightly relieved Warrick didn't come right out and ask it. He appreciated his tact. Warrick knew before the staff changes, Grissom had wanted him to be his successor, if and when he decided to leave. They were alike, in a lot of aspects, and he had always appreciated Grissom's support. He wasn't like Catherine. He didn't thrive on gossip. He was just asking out of concern.
"Not particularly", the supervisor admitted. "The Hett case… is proving more complicated that we thought".
"So it's true then", Warrick guessed. "Your suspect is related to Sara".
Grissom nodded, sighing deeply. "Yeah".
"She okay?"
Grissom shrugged. "To be honest, I couldn't tell you." He frowned, as if considering something. "Warrick… can I ask you a question?"
Warrick leant back in his chair, eyeing him thoughtfully. Grissom's need for personal conversation occurred very seldom, and Warrick was curious when it did. "Shoot".
"From a personal viewpoint, do you think it's easier for someone who's killed to do it again?"
Warrick furrowed his brow. "I don't know. I think once you've crossed that line… it's easy to do it again."
"The offender never pardons."
"Shakespeare?" Warrick guessed.
"George Herbert".
Grissom pursed his lips, looking contemplative. "Even when they appear to have redeemed themselves?"
Warrick bit his lip. "I couldn't say this without context… but I don't think anyone who's deliberately killed someone can ever erase it."
Grissom lowered his glasses, rotating them in his fingers grimly. "That's what I thought".
Warrick frowned, studying him intently. "Grissom, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look so good. Your shift doesn't start for hours."
Grissom gave him a small, ironic look. "I believe you were wearing that shirt last night, Warrick".
Warrick smirked slightly, shrugging. "Okay, yeah, but I'm not in the same zone as you or Sara. You guys work way too much. You could both… use a distraction. You know?"
Grissom narrowed his eyes slightly, but he just nodded, and Warrick knew he had understood the veiled suggestion. He wasn't one to regularly interfere in others lives, and certainly not Grissom's, but the thing with Grissom and Sara was so obvious it was ridiculous, and he was starting to get tired of it.
"Well, I better get back to work", he said casually, rising from his chair.
Grissom replaced his glasses on his nose. "Good luck in court tomorrow", he offered, and Warrick was surprised he was still up-to-date on his activities. He smiled weakly.
Grissom returned his attention to some document in front of him. "And I appreciate the advice".
Warrick paused, unsure if he had meant his prior opinion or what he had just suggested, and decided it was better not to question him on it.
Warrick was relieved to have helped somehow. Whatever he had said seemed to have lightened Grissom's burden somewhat, and he returned to his work with less reluctance on his face than before.
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