A/N: This is sort of a transition chapter, and I really hope it keeps you intrigued. There is still a little excitement to come. Thanks for all your lovely words. I treasure each and every review. I want to give a quick shout out to Taletha who has faithfully followed me through several stories, and taken time to comment on every chapter. You guys rock!
Sheila
As always, a shout out to the amazing Marlou; a great beta and a wonderful person.
Hope Springs
Chapter 14
She found most of the stars in the sky, but she doubted that it would ever be as clear as it was that night before her life imploded. The cool air of the evening soothed her, and she relaxed more deeply into the cushioned lounge she was laying on. She never knew the view could be so lovely here. She had never before taken the time to appreciate it. But it made sense. Grissom probably chose this condo very carefully in sort of a calculated manner as he undoubtedly did with just about everything.
The sounds of the desert at night washed over her and she noticed, for the first time, the harmony created between the insects and birds and animals. She shifted a little in the lounge to accommodate the mound around her middle. It was true what people said. Once day you might look a little pregnant and then the next day you woke up and you were massive. For the first time in her life, Sara Sidle felt massive.
She heard the sliding glass door open behind her, but she didn't turn. She knew that they would have to fuss this one last time about him going to work before he would leave.
"Do you need a blanket?"
Sara smiled at him as he dragged a chair over next to her. "No, the air is perfect."
"It will get cooler."
She nodded. "I've lived here before."
"I'll feel better if—"
She waved a hand. "Then by all means, find me a blanket."
His eyes narrowed. "I'm bugging you."
"Very much so, Grissom. Very much so."
"So the suggestion that I stay with you one more night…." He leaned over, his hands neatly folded.
She shook her head. "Please. You need to get back to work and I need the space."
"We only flew in yesterday. Not much time for you to settle in. Are you comfortable here?"
Sara sighed. "I am as comfortable as I can be. You have done so much for me…you've been perfect."
"A week in the hospital can be stressful, and the plane ride. Plus you are on bed rest for another week. I know how independent you are. I'm trying the best I can to help without crowding you."
She snorted. "And from me you get nothing but surliness."
He took a deep breath. "I'm trying to understand."
"You deserve better."
Unclasping his hands, he reached over and scooped hers up. "You've been through a lot. I understand that."
She resisted the urge to pull her hand away. "Do you? You are giving me everything I ever wanted from you, our baby is safe, and you have promised to take care of all of my needs. And Attica's killer has been stopped. What could possibly be wrong now?"
"It must be hard to just sit there and let someone else take care of you; especially someone with whom you have had some trust issues."
She squeezed his hand. "Ah, Dr. Grissom, you missed your calling. You could have had the psychological world at your feet."
He raised his brows. "I would have had to talk to people all day. The thought of it sends a chill up my spine."
She grinned. "Honestly, I think you are only partly right. I have never let anyone take care of me before, and it is something of a struggle. But you need to know that I am glad to be here. I do trust you. I believe you want this as much as I do."
"This is still about the little girl, isn't it?"
Her throat grew thick and her eyes stung. "Why are people so callous? How can a child be discarded like this? I don't understand. And I don't understand why I'm being like this. The idea of neglected and abused children is certainly not new to me. What's so different about this one? Why did I never mourn the others this much?"
He shrugged. "You're pregnant. Hormones? Or maybe something more maternal? It didn't take you very long to become fierce about being a mother. Being pregnant must help you understand how tremendous the commitment is that goes into growing a child."
Her brow wrinkled.
His eyes caught hers. "Remember when you told me about your mom and dad. You said that you thought everyone lived like that. Now you understand, first hand, how ridiculous that notion is. You can feel it in you; how foreign it would be for you to treat your child abusively. You could never do that to a child."
"That remains to be—"
Grissom put his fingers to her lips. "It's not possible, Sara. I know this."
"Who will bury little Attica now that it's over? Her mother won't. Will the county? Will she be some unmarked grave on that vast, lonely prairie?"
"Hey!" He cupped her chin. "You promised that you wouldn't stress. This pregnancy can't afford it. I will call. I will check on it."
"And you'll check on Detective Bellecourt for me? I never got to see him in the hospital."
"Yup, I got it. I will take care of all of it. You just rest. I'll do everything."
She wrinkled her nose. "I don't find it comforting that you will do everything."
He leaned in to kiss her, and all of that Grissom-longing rose up in her, and she found herself drinking in as much as she could: his clean, musky smell, the feel of his grey whiskers on her face, the warm, salty taste of his mouth. She wanted to pull him into the lounge chair with her, and let him pepper her with kisses and whispered promises, but she knew neither of them was ready for that. 'Baby steps' she told herself. Reluctantly she broke the kiss with him. He smiled down at her, and she wondered if she would ever be strong enough to see Grissom as nothing more than an ordinary man. She hoped for this; suspected it would be the only way this relationship would survive.
"I can stay," he whispered.
She shook her head sharply. "Go Grissom. We need the space. Really. Go solve cases. At least one of us will be doing something useful."
His thick hand slid back and forth over her taut belly. "Incubating a person is a very useful thing to do. I'm pretty sure nothing I do tonight will compete with that, Ms. Sidle."
He stood up and she playfully wagged a finger at him. "Be careful, Gris, and no double shifts. Understood?"
He nodded. "You're going to let me get you a blanket before I go though, right?"
She wrinkled her nose and threw a magazine at him. He ducked as Newsweek skimmed across his back and hit the sliding glass door. He grinned back at her and disappeared into the house.
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She woke when she heard the sliding door open. It startled her and she sat up, groaning as her back strained under the extra weight. She twisted her head to find the cotton candy visage of Catherine Willows beaming at her.
"Oh God," Sara moaned. "What time is it?"
"1 a.m." Catherine said as she settled into the chair that Grissom had pulled up next to Sara.
"Catherine, who comes to visit a person at 1 a.m. in the morning?"
"The answer is sitting right in front of you, girlfriend." Catherine smiled like the cat that swallowed the canary. She was exactly as Sara remembered her: beautiful, brassy, and ballsy.
A spasm hit her and she groaned. "You have no idea how my back is hurting me."
"Turn over on your side," Catherine ordered.
"Geez, Catherine, I don't know if—"
"Just do it, Sara. I also grew a baby, you know." Catherine scooted the chair up against the lounge chair.
Sara turned reluctantly and looked over her shoulder. "Catherine, I don't know about this."
Catherine didn't answer. Rather, she began working on the muscles in her back. Sara groaned and moaned but found her touch to be even more therapeutic than anything Grissom had done. She found herself more than a little unsettled with this.
"God, move a little lower, to the left. Dammit, Catherine, who knew?"
Catherine chuckled. "Girl, you have to go through this before you really know."
"You're going to kill me, but sometimes it's hard to think of you as a mother." Sara was going for broke and didn't care.
Her chuckle deepened. "I kinda worked on that, you know. Never wanted to lose my edge."
Sara smiled. "You never have. You're still the hottest thing the lab rats ever saw."
"I myself would have thrown the net a little wider than that. I was really something in my day." Catherine rubbed hard at a spot on her lower back.
"Catherine, I don't doubt it for a moment. You do more on my lower back and I am yours forever." Sara leaned back into her.
"That would be a pretty interesting proposition, but my guess is that I have some pretty stiff competition." Sara thought that Catherine winked at her, but she couldn't tell for sure.
Catherine kneaded the stiff muscles for another ten minutes, and then let Sara sink back into the cushions of the lounge. Sara smiled up at her. "Okay, maybe visitors at 1 a.m. aren't so bad after all."
Catherine tossed her strawberry blonde hair off her face. "Swing shift gets off at midnight, and I have to turn into Mommy at 7:30 a.m. so this is when I've got time."
"Everything good at the lab? How are the guys? I miss them."
"This from the girl who packed up and left without so much as a good-bye for most of her friends." Catherine leaned back and regarded her.
Sara felt her face flush. "I was in a bad place emotionally. Not much good to anyone."
"Well, it's good to have you back. We do have you back, don't we?"
Sara shrugged and looked away. "I don't have a lot of choices right now. I would have preferred to come back on my own terms."
Catherine lowered her voice and caught Sara's eyes. "You should have heard him on the phone when he thought you were shot and he had to get to South Dakota. He's lost without you, Sara. I don't think that is ever going to change. After all these years, he is finally at your mercy. How does it feel?"
Sara pinched the bridge of her nose as if massaging away a headache. "Boy, you really go in for the kill, don't you?"
Catherine smiled and shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes never left Sara's.
Sara threw her hands up. "All right, Catherine. It feels wonderful and frightening all at the same time. My God, we danced around each other for eight years. Was there a reason for that? Something I'm not considering? Will I wake up in eight months and realize that Grissom was right to hold me at arm's length? Or more likely, will he wake up in eight months and realize that he was right all along?"
"You are something, aren't you? Going to tie yourself up in knots. This worrying that the two of you do; this is the stuff that screws you up time after time. Leave it alone, Sara. Let it be what it is. 'Cause the two of you have something very powerful happening between you, always have, and it needs to be nurtured, not questioned and analyzed. Do you understand?"
Sara blinked at her for a moment before answering. "That wasn't bad. Really. I mean it."
Catherine let a smile grow out of one side of her mouth. "Is there anything I don't do well?"
"I thought you rented a penthouse suite for your ego over at the Stardust. I didn't realize that you were still capable of carrying it around."
Catherine snorted. "It's better than questioning every action, thought or motive like the two of you do."
Sara closed her eyes for a moment and chewed her lower lip. "I'm really embarrassed to say this." She sighed. "I don't have much in the way of female friends to talk to. It's never really mattered to me before. But I find…I don't have anyone who understands what this is like. Grissom is not good for this. He treats me like I'm going to shatter into a million pieces every time I move."
Catherine threw back her head and laughed. "Okay, girlfriend, what do you want to know?"
"I'm growing a condominium here. It's out of control. I am Jabba the Hut with boobs. I fully believe that if I get any bigger, I am going to explode like an overblown balloon at a birthday party."
"I remember this well. I never thought I would ever see my feet again."
"You were big?"
"Please! I was a human watermelon. My ankles were so swollen, it looked like I was walking on tree trunks."
"You survived it okay." Sara observed.
"I was dancing again four months after Lindsay was born."
Sara's head fell back into the cushions. "I tried to talk to Grissom about this, and he got this 'deer caught in headlights' look on his face which made me mad, and that made him nervous and he wanted to go to the store for ice cream so I accused him of abandoning me, and he looked at me like I was a smudged fingerprint, I know that look, Catherine, and so I--"
Catherine put a hand up. "Stop! That's enough. Those are your hormones talking. That, and the fact that the two of you have the communication skills of newborn seals is going to make the next ten weeks a very interesting time."
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There was a long pause before Grissom got an answer. "Well, I really don't know much about this, Gil. Not sure there is much precedent for this."
"But you'll look into it, Matthew." Grissom found that his patience had a shelf life comparable to Sara's.
"Of course, I will. Anything for my favorite scientist."
"And you and Mark are coming down this weekend?" Grissom was rubbing a spot on his cheek where he cut himself shaving. He was surprised that his razor got dull so quickly until Sara commented later on how it gave her legs a wonderfully close shave.
"Are you sure she's up to it?"
Grissom groaned. "Come! She is bored and ornery, and needs a distraction. She just saw the doctor and he gave her another week of bed rest because I told him that her pulse has been running fast. I am very unpopular in my home right now."
"Poor Gil! Don't worry. We'll be there. Besides, Catherine and I really need to get together and plan Sara's shower."
Grissom screwed up his face. "You know Catherine?"
"She was your Lamaze surrogate, remember? She's got a face like an angel, the body of a goddess, and the smile of a demon."
"Yes, yes, of course." Grissom was irritated with the growing cast of characters in his life.
"Take a breath, Gil. Learn to love the chaos. It's your only chance."
Grissom sank back into his chair when he was finished. The digital on his desk told him that shift would be ending in an hour. He sighed. Counting down the hours until he could leave was not his style, but he was having some trouble concentrating. Eager to get home, he suspected he would find her lying on the couch, bloated and uncomfortable. She would scowl at him, and demand to know every detail of his shift. Then she would frown at him when he tried to feed her a healthy breakfast, but he would smile back at her because her presence in his life was worth the struggle.
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She rolled onto her side, and found the bed empty. The sun glared around the edges of the heavy shades. She had never before slept as much as she had these last few weeks, and it left her feeling drugged and lethargic. She slowly rolled off the bed, groaning as her back muscles strained under the extra weight. In the mirror, she saw herself at 30 weeks. Her face was blurry and vague, and her hair tousled and curly. Her body had stretched impossibly and her belly had taken on mythical dimensions.
Clothes had become a definite issue. Catherine had gone out and found her some thin, cotton sundresses in soft pastels. It was the last thing that Sara would have ever picked out for herself, but she was amazed at how comfortable it was to throw one over her head and be ready for the day. She felt like a little girl going out to play on the beach. She padded her way into the kitchen and found it empty. She checked the bathroom, living room, and dining room. There was so sign of Grissom. A twinge of anxiety erupted in her gut, and she had to assure herself that he was out running errands or taking a walk or something else that didn't involve trying to escape from her. It was still so difficult. She trusted him in many ways, but she didn't yet believe that this could work.
She leaned against the counter to relax herself. The shades were drawn on the sliding glass door, but out of the corner of her eye she saw movement in the cracks. She let out a great sigh of relief. She found him on the deck crouched over some plants, carefully repotting flowers. She slid out into the hot sun and squinted at him.
He looked up in surprise. "You're awake already."
"If I slept anymore I would be in a coma," she drawled as she eased herself into her favorite lounge chair. "What are you doing, Grissom?"
"I have a soft spot for African Violets. I'm repotting a couple that are getting too big for their pots."
"I've never seen you in shorts before." She had somehow reached a point in this pregnancy where she put words to almost every thought she was having.
He raised his eyebrows and sat back on his haunches. "And this is the first time I have ever seen you in a dress. Who knew we could be such complex individuals?"
"Funny man," she murmured. "I look like I'm 5 years old with this on."
One side of his mouth curved into a smile. "You look adorable."
"Just what every woman wants to hear, Grissom."
He stood up, brushing soil from his hands and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He pulled a chair into the shade and sat down. "So let's talk about your infrequent forays into the use of my first name. Every once in a while, you will venture forth with a Gil, and then I don't hear it again for a week. Where are you at with that?"
She threw her arms up. "I don't know. You're Grissom. Always have been. I am trying to use Gil, but I'm having a hard time with it. You…don't seem like a Gil."
He chuckled. "Who do I seem like?"
"Ummm…how about Huggy Bear?"
He snorted and cleared his throat. "Not sure I could get used to that one."
"All right, Gil! I will try." She narrowed her eyes and gave him a sly smile.
He dragged his chair over until he was next to her. "You know Mark and Matthew are coming tomorrow."
She nodded.
"Matthew is helping me with a project, something…I'm not ready to talk about. He and I are going to need to leave for a couple of days, and Mark is going to stay with you. How do you feel about this?"
"Is this about Attica?"
The edge of his mouth twitched. "We just want to make sure she is taken care of."
She turned over on her side and smiled at him. "Thank you, Gri-, I mean, Gil."
"Honey, when you call me Grissom, it sounds like you're talking to your boss. I assume we are trying to get past that." He reached over and began to massage her belly. She moved into his hand and moaned a little. He began to massage a little lower. "Sara, what did the doctor say about this?"
She edged closer to the edge of the lounge. "He said that if, in the unlikely event, I felt like sex, it would be okay; just not too rigorous."
"Hmmm…he must know my reputation."
She giggled and slowly pulled the front of her dress up so his hands could find bare skin.
"What do you think, Sara?" His voice was low and she wanted to tell him he sounded like Barry White.
"I think that if you're into beached whales, then I'm game."
He slid his hand further up her dress and began to caress her swollen breasts. Then he leaned over and began kissing her neck. "You are a masterpiece, Sara, and there is nothing I would like better than to lie down with you for a long, slow afternoon of art appreciation."
She reached for his face and brought his mouth to hers. Their kisses were deep and curious and Sara was prepared to lose herself in them when she heard the rattle of a lawn mower being started. She pulled away and looked at him. "Are we going to be performing for the neighbors this afternoon?"
Grissom raised an eyebrow and looked up, scanning the other decks of the building. "Yeah, let's wait until we put a notice in the monthly co-op newsletter. Hardly seems worth the effort with only Ed Kort and Mrs. Henderson in attendance."
Together they maneuvered Sara off the seat and onto her feet. Grissom had her dress up over her head by the time they hit the bedroom.
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Brass stood at the condo door for a minute. Again, he went over how he wanted to play this. It smacked of manipulation, and this really wasn't his style, but once the idea occurred to him, he was lost to it. Jim Brass wouldn't ever tell anyone this, but he was a dreamer. From the time he was a kid running the streets of Trenton, New Jersey, he was imagining a better world for himself and everyone he knew. He particularly loved to imagine a future where he would be a cop, saving lives and catching evildoers. Reality bites, but the truth was that he loved his job and reveled in the fact that, every once in a while, someone would be safer because of him or a bad guy would get put away.
Age hadn't mellowed his desire to nurture his dreams for himself and others. This particular idea had ruled his thoughts ever since Grissom brought Sara back to Vegas, and he found himself unable to resist.
He knew Grissom left for work by 10:00, and Brass had already checked in with his squad, telling them he was doing some routine follow-up. All he had to do now was knock and step into the middle of other people's lives.
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TBC