Chapter Thirty-Six
II
The dream was disjointed, confused, a long parade of images of life and fantasy, neither holding her for long. She floated through them, sleeping until she felt her senses start to report to her again - sunlight pressing against her eyelids, mattress soft against her back, the distant rumbles of passing cars. Morning.
She remained between sleep and awake a while longer, feeling a strange sort of freedom there. No past, no future, the present only awareness and comfort and life, as if in a womb returned.
But it wasn't possible to linger between the two forever, and slowly she felt herself awaken and her body seek what it had grown used to and not finding it.
Warrick wasn't there.
She opened her eyes to the morning light and found the room empty, as it should not be. Warrick had fallen asleep with her, muttering more than a few indecent things in her ear. And he was hardly a morning person, though perhaps he'd decided to get up and make breakfast.
She tossed on a robe and stalked out into the kitchen, finding it silent and empty as well. Lindsey was still in her bed and the bathroom was empty. She almost started to wonder if she'd dreamt his presence there at all last night when she heard the door open and be closed again silently. She leaned against the wall as Warrick turned the corner and walked into the room. He halted as he noticed her and she gave him a mock angry glare.
"Should I be worried about another woman?"
"No way," he replied after a moment's surprise, composing himself. "You would kill me and her."
"Smart man."
"You know it."
"So would this smart man like to tell me where he's been?"
He sighed and she got a sense of not particulary good news. "I was gonna wait till later, but... I drove Sara to the airport. She's left for San Francisco."
"What?" The word was automatic, but she felt strangely unsurprised. Perhaps she had always known it would come to this one day, knowing Grissom, knowing Sara.
"Yeah. I guess she picked me because I was the least likely to convince her to stay."
"I think I would have been more unlikely," she said dryly, but wondered if it was true. Perhaps once it had been, but... She would miss Sara, fights and glares and sometimes friendship for all she had felt her family invaded when Sara had first arrived.
"You would have told Grissom and he would have tried to stop her. That's not enough for Sara."
"And what is?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"This, hopefully," he replied and gave her a handwritten note. She could see an address scribbled on it and looked up at him again, wondering if it was supposed to hold some meaning for her.
"What's this?"
"A debt," he said solemnly, looking at something beyond her, something within himself.
"A debt?" she echoed. "What has this got to do with Sara?"
His attention returned to her again, from wherever he had gone. "I know where she's gone. Sara told me not to tell Grissom. But I can tell you."
"And I can tell Grissom," she finished. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a sneaky bastard, Warrick Brown?"
A smile tugged at his lips. "You did."
"And after I tell Grissom, then what?"
"Then he has his second chance, as he once gave me. You don't always win your first gamble."
He took her hand and kissed her palm and she thought of Eddie and the heart he had claimed of her. She thought of Chris and Mark and all those she had sought solace and company and comfort in but had ended up burning her. And she thought of Warrick, warm and gentle and life.
"Yes," she agreed. "Did I ever tell you I love you, Warrick Brown?"
His eyes widened for a moment and his smile was a sunrise. "Now you did."
"Yeah," she agreed and felt content. Not radiantly happy, because she knew trouble would come from it all. Ecklie would not be happy, Grissom would not be happy, work would be complicated and so would the relationship. But she did love him. She had loved Eddie and that hadn't been enough. But maybe, just maybe, this time it would.
Life was lived on hope, after all.
"Lindsey up yet?" he asked, leaning in, the look in his eyes unmistakable.
"A teenager? Voluntarily? At this hour? Are you kidding?"
"Mmm," he breathed against her lips, pressing her against the wall as he tucked her hair behind her ear. "Guess you're right."
"I bought a new swimsuit yesterday," she whispered, brushing her hand against his chest, feeling heartbeats and life against her palm.
"Yeah? Will I get to see it?"
"Count on it," she said and kissed him in the morning light of her house, feeling the day awaken all around. Maybe it wouldn't work. But maybe it would, just for today, tomorrow never coming.
II
It was stifling hot and day almost dawned when she finally made her way to the lab, leaving Warrick and Lindsey to pour over brochures and decide where they'd all go. A little family, a little family holiday. She wondered if Warrick knew that for all his smooth moves, it was how he was around her daughter that seemed most seductive of all. He loved Lindsey simply for being her daughter.
She smiled softly at the thought of it and decided she wouldn't tell him. Might give him ideas and she did quite like his moves too.
The lab was quiet as she entered, even with the air conditioning cranked up full. She closed her eyes to the cool air of it, thinking of summer winds and autumn that would come. The heat wouldn't last, it never did, but it always came back again too. Summer always moved on, the never-ending cycle of seasons and life, aging all.
Aging her. Sometimes, she almost desired the rest and silence of the womb the earth offered all dead. Almost. For all her years, all her ghosts, she did still want to live. Strange to have come so far to realise such a small truth.
Now to find out if Grissom did, or if he was content to merely pass the days.
She didn't find Grissom in his office, but in the Ballistics lab, bent over a microscope. He looked intent, not greeting her, either because he didn't notice or didn't want to interrupt his concentration. It could be hard to tell sometimes.
"Hey," she said, leaning against the doorway. "Working?"
"Yeah. Matching the bullet recovered from Frank Brinning to the bullets from the other cases."
"They match?"
"They match. Alan Keyes is going away for a long time."
'But he'll still be there,' she thought. A haunt. Not quite there, not quite a threat, except in the darkness of sleep where fears were born. But that was not a thought for this warm summer day and she forced it back.
"Why are you here? Missing me?"
She smiled. "Yeah, Grissom. I miss you every day. Actually, I came to tell you Ecklie has, in his generosity and appreciation of good PR for the lab, decided I may have a little time off."
"Yeah, I saw him on the news," Grissom replied. "He looked pleased."
"He did," she agreed, then took a deep breath. Time to throw the gauntlet. "Warrick's coming with me."
He sighed. "Cath..."
"No. That part of my life is not open to negotiation and you know damn well why," she said forcefully and saw him wince slightly. As well he should. "We'll sort something out about the shifts when I come back."
"Anything else?"
"Yes," she said and slammed a note down on the table. "This."
He picked it up carefully, staring at the address. "What's this?"
"Warrick's second chance, returned," she said, slightly softer. "That's Sara's address, where she went after you managed to screw things up."
"She left?" He sounded torn between disbelief and hurt and she wanted to smack him.
"Yes, she left. You did notice she was gone?"
"I thought she'd taken some time to think, get... Get to terms with everything," he muttered, looking for a moment like he almost wanted to bang his head against the table. She bit back an urge to want to help him. Hard.
"What did you expect? For her to stay and play the game your way?"
"Probably," he admitted, looking at the note again, face so carefully frozen she could feel his hurt and confusion like a cold wind across her mind.
"Well, you are an idiot sometimes," she said forcefully, but softening even as she said it. "Fortunately, so am I and I've taken pity on you. Go to her, Gil. Live."
She left him like that, feeling his puzzled stare on her back. She could push him to what she felt he should do, but his life was his to untangle and she'd given him the best pair of scissors she had. The rest was up to him.
The heat greeted her as she walked out again, and she slipped on her shades, protecting her from the sun's onslaught. It was going to be a hot summer a while longer, burning all who lived. Only the dead escaped it, a sleep of cold and ashes and bugs, Grissom's constant friends. And it was her job to make the dead remain sleeping, bring peace of mind to the living, offer the cold comfort of a sense of justice.
But not today.
It was going to be a lovely summer day and her family was waiting for her. Time to go home and live a little.
