A/N: Ecklie almost redeemed himself in my eyes during GD. But he is so good at being a dick, I had to write him as he usually is.
Chapter 13
"Three."
Sara had just opened her eyes to find that Grissom was watching her. Instead of a 'good morning,' a number had been the first word out of his mouth.
"Three?" She looked at him, perplexed.
"This make three times now that I've woken up next to you. First time in an actual bed, though."
Sara had to laugh at the ridiculousness of his statement. Trust Grissom to keep track of such a thing. She looked at him to find him smirking back at her. He was leaning on his elbow, holding his head up with his hand. Sara took a moment to admire the view. Gil Grissom, the man she had known for more then ten years, and been in love with for at least half that time, was in her bed. True, he was fully dressed. But he had held her for the whole night, and before they had gone to sleep he had kissed her once again. It had been a slow gentle kiss that had made her think of slipping into a hot bath of scented water. Her skin started to tingle at the memory.
"How about breakfast in bed?" Grissom interrupted her thoughts. Reading her mind, he silenced her protests before she could make them. "You cooked yesterday. It's my turn."
"I'll only agree if you join me."
"Wouldn't have it any other way." He rolled out of the bed, and Sara instantly regretted the loss of his warmth.
Laying in bed, Sara listened to the sounds of pots and pans clanging together in the kitchen. She debated taking a shower while Grissom made breakfast, but decided against it. Plenty of time for that later. She did make a quick trip into the bathroom, both to relieve her bladder, and to brush her teeth. On the off chance she was the lucky recipient of another kiss, she didn't want to be caught with morning breath.
She must have dozed a little, because next thing she knew Grissom was entering the bedroom with a tray. Sitting up in bed, she admired the selection he placed before her. Pancakes, fruit salad, scrambled eggs, and a glass of milk.
"Where did all this food come from? I didn't think my fridge was very well stocked."
"That's one of the great things about living in a place like Vegas. You can get anything delivered." He handed her a fork, and picked up one of the bowls of fruit for himself.
"Well, it definitely looks better then the hospital tray yesterday."
"Some of the stuff we process at work looks better then the food on the hospital tray yesterday." He agreed.
Sara was about to reach for her own bowl of fruit when she spied a particularly ripe looking piece of melon in Grissom's bowl. Smiling, she reached over with her fork and took it. Grissom grinned at her before leaning over and snatching a piece of pineapple from her bowl with his fingers.
"Turn about's fair play," he said as he licked the juice off his thumb.
"Can I come in with you?"
Grissom was gather his things, getting ready to leave for work. He still had to stop by his townhouse, because he hadn't thought to bring a change of clothes with him.
"Come to my house?" he questioned.
"No. I mean, yes, but then I want to go to the lab too." Now that her secret was out, the lab was not the forbidden zone she had forced it to be. She was going stir crazy, and hoped for a change of scene. The colorful walls of her apartment were only slightly less restricting then the plain white ones of her hospital room had been. She needed to escape, and Grissom's announcement that he was going to work seemed like the perfect opportunity.
"Sara, your not going into work. Not tonight."
"I don't plan to work. See me, taking full advantage of my paid sick leave? I just want to go in, say hi to the guys, maybe steal a cup of Greg's blue Hawaiian. I won't so much as breath on any evidence, or pick up a single case file. Active or cold." Grissom looked at her, and she could tell he was thinking of giving in.
"What if you get tired?" He had to admit, the idea of being able to keep an eye on her had merit.
"I'll take a cab home, or you can make one of the boys drop me off." She could tell she had won. "Give me five minutes to change, and I'll be ready to go."
It was closer to fifteen when she reemerged from the bedroom, dressed in faded jeans and a deep purple sweater. She was wearing her wig for the first time in a week, and it surprised him to see her with a full head of hair.
"Ready?" he asked.
Picking up her keys and jacket, she nodded.
"Sara!" Greg was the first to see them as they entered the lab, and he bounded down the hall with a look that reminded Grissom of an overgrown puppy greeting his master at the end of the day. He watched as the ecstatic Greg wrapped Sara up in a hug.
"You must have smelled the coffee beans percolating, because I just put on a pot."
"That must be it," Sara joked, letting Greg drag her into the break room. By some coincidence (maybe the fact that they were all obsessive workaholics) the entire night shift was already gathered, despite the fact that shift didn't start for more then twenty minutes.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Sar, cause we're all glad to see you, but what are you doing here?" Warrick also greeted Sara with a hug, this one not quite as exuberant as Greg's had been.
"Yeah, we all know Grissom isn't about to let you return to work." Catherine folded the cell phone she had been talking into and joined in the conversation.
"First of all, Grissom is not my keeper."
"Someone should tell him that." Nick spoke under his breath, but not quietly enough. Sara shot him a glare.
"Second of all," she spoke again, "I'm not here to work. Just wanted to make sure you hadn't destroyed the lab in my absence."
She regretted her words as soon as she said them. They had been meant as a joke, but the second they were out of her mouth they reminded her of the time the lab had been destroyed. Guiltily, she looked at Catherine.
Catherine took Sara's words as she had meant them.
"Amazingly enough, the lab has not fallen down without you here to hold it up," she quipped.
When Grissom entered the break room he found Sara ensconced on the couch, steaming mug between her pale hands. Nick sat next to her, Warrick was gracefully perched on the armrest on her other side, Greg was sitting in a chair that faced backwards, and Catherine stood behind the couch, fingering Sara's wig.
"Very nice. If I didn't know better, I would say that it was your real hair. Where'd you go?"
"Friend of Grissom's has a shop."
Grissom, friend. They sounded weird in the same sentence. Catherine had known the man for almost twenty years, and she had never met a friend of Grissom's that wasn't related to work in some way.
"I hate to break up the party, but some of us have work tonight." Grissom carried a collection of assignment slips with him.
"Catherine and Greg, double murder at the Tropicana. Out-of-towner found with a prostitute, both dead. Nick, murder at Lake Mead. Take a wet suit, you might need it. Greg, you get your very own smash and grab."
As the others left the room to collect their kits, Sara glared at Grissom.
"What's your assignment? You better not be intending to stay here to baby sit me."
"There were no more cases. If something comes in, I'll take it. If not, there's always things around here to do. Want to help me fill out paperwork?"
Whatever she might have said was lost when Ecklie strode into the room.
"Gil, we need to talk."
Sara stood up from the couch, wanting to be somewhere that Ecklie was not. Whatever he had to say was not going to be good. The weasel had always been a pain, but ever since his promotion he had become down right insufferable.
"I'm going to go say hi to Doc Robbins."
Grissom nodded. Ecklie didn't even acknowledge her presence.
"David, I thought you were on your way to the Tropicana?" Al didn't look up when he heard the doors to the morgue open. He assumed his smart, but slightly absentminded, assistant had forgotten something again.
"Nope, didn't forget anything. Just trying to find a place to hide from the poison that is Ecklie." Sara stepped farther into the room, stopping a few feet away from the autopsy table Robbins was bent over.
"Well, if it isn't our errant CSI. I'm touch and honored by your presence." He smiled at her while silently looking her over. The doctor in him took in the changes that cancer and surgery had caused to her appearance. She was too thin, and he didn't like the black bruising under her eyes. As a friend, though, he saw the glint of humor in her eye, and was appeased.
"Have you been drinking with Brass after work? For a minute there I thought you were channeling the him." Sara grinned at the coroner. Privately, he always reminded her of Santa, if the jolly elf wore a lab coat instead of a red suit.
"Now there's a scary thought."
Dr. Robbins resumed his work. It was not a case for the CSIs, but a death from natural causes. Sara avoided looking at the body laying dead on the slab. It had been almost a year since the sight of a corpse had disturbed her on such a visceral level, but somehow just glancing at this one made her sick to the stomach. The last time she had reacted so strongly to a body in the morgue it had been a woman who had looked freakishly like her. A nurse, found murdered in her bathroom. This time it was a man on the table. Middle aged, no visible wounds. Maybe that was what was bothering her. She was so used to seeing the victims of violent crimes, with their visible causes of death. This man had none. She wouldn't have, if she had died at home, or on the way to the hospital. Cause of death wouldn't be clear until they cut her open and saw the ravages of cancer. Morosely she wondered if her body would have been brought here, or if they would have taken her elsewhere.
"I'm going to go find Grissom." Sara escaped from the room without giving Robbins a chance to reply.
"Bastard. Next time I throw a coffee pot, I'm aiming for him." Grissom was pacing in the break room, unaware that he had an audience.
"Who are we throwing coffee pots at?" Sara questioned from the doorway. She already knew the answer, but figured she'd give him a chance to vent.
"No one." Grissom didn't want to talk about his meeting with the assistant director. The slimy former shift supervisor had the nerve to lecture him about work ethics. On top of that, he wanted to know when Grissom was going to get around to hiring a full time CSI for his shift, insinuating that he needed to replace Sara. When hell freezes over. Ecklie didn't even have the basic common decency to inquire about Sara's health. Bastard.
"So, what about that paperwork. Feel up to helping me?"
Sara decided to let Grissom get away with the deflection. At least for now.
"Sounds like fun," she said sarcastically.
As it turned out, it was. Sort of. They laughed and teased as they read over reports and pointed out the absurdity of some of the forms the higher ups required. More then once their hands brushed when they reached for the same paper. And just to be able to do something productive, or as productive as paper pushing could be, felt good after the long months away from work. For a little while, at least, she felt normal.
To be continued...