A Renaissance Affair
By Chicklit
Time Frame: Mid-Season Five, after "Unbearable" and Grissom's infamous dinner invitation to Sofia.
Disclaimers: The usual. Don't own these characters. Wish I did.
Sincere thanks to those of you who have reviewed, both on and off line! I really appreciate the support.
Chapter 3
I've changed my mind. I don't love Greg. In fact, I'm not even sure I like him any more. He's an annoying punk who reminds of this boy named Bruce who lived in one of my foster homes. Greg has weird hair. Bruce had weird tattoos. Otherwise, the similarities are frightening.
We're in the Denali driving back to the lab. Shift is over, I'm tired and I want to go home. It's been a long night filled with dead bodies and the kind of suspects who make me wonder if the human race will even be in existence 500 years from now.
"So, how come we don't do team dinners any more?" Greg asks, breaking the silence in the car.
It's a relatively innocuous question. We haven't had a team dinner since Ecklie worked his managerial magic and separated the night shift. Grissom has been having individual dinners with folks like Brass and Sofia, but neither Greg nor I have been the recipient of an invitation. And let's be honest – I pretty much killed any chance of ever receiving a dinner invitation from Grissom when I asked him out. If he were to do it, it would mean something. We both know it and therefore avoid the topic entirely.
Grissom is driving. He keeps his eyes on the road and after a minute replies, "Good question, Greg." From the tone of his voice I can tell he's actually thinking about it, not just brushing Greg off. Is he so oblivious to the world around him that he isn't even aware that we don't have team dinners any more? Yes, we do the occasional breakfast after shift, emphasis on the word occasional. But not dinner. It occurs to me that Nick was usually the one who picked the restaurant and guilted the team into attending.
"We could have dinner tonight, before shift starts," Greg continues.
And this is why I no longer like Greg. He knows it's Tuesday and tonight is my first Renaissance art history class. Moreover, he knows darn well that Mike and I are having dinner beforehand. Greg and I had a nice, long discussion on the topic about two hours ago while we were waiting for Grissom to finish with an interview. I'd like to give Greg a solid kick to the shin to shut him up but I can't. He's in the front seat with Grissom. I'm in the back. Trapped.
I know he's up to something. The question is… What?
Greg turns around and gives me a smile. I give him my most intimidating death glare. Unimpressed, he just smirks and turns back to Grissom. "Are you free tonight?"
Grissom is looking at me in the rearview mirror as he weighs Greg's question. His sunglasses completely conceal his eyes and I have no idea what he is thinking. "Actually, yes," he finally replies. I notice that his hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles have turned white.
"What about you, Sara?" asks the Judas in the passenger seat. "Are you free for dinner?"
I take a deep breath. "No, Greg. Sorry. I have my class tonight." As you darn well know.
Grissom perks up. "Your Renaissance Art class?"
"Yes. The evening section meets on Tuesdays."
Greg chimes in with, "Yeah, but that doesn't meet until later. What about before?"
"I have plans."
"What plans?"
I give him another death look. A muted one, in case Grissom happens to see it. "Mike Kendall and I are having an early dinner."
There. I said it. I exhale and watch Grissom process this new tidbit of information. I didn't think his knuckles could get any whiter but apparently they can. I want to interject that Mike and I are just friends, but that would only make the situation more awkward.
"That's cozy." Greg turns around in his seat and faces me. "So, what is it with you and professors, anyway?"
"Excuse me?" What is he doing? He is so dead. BFB straight through the heart dead. No witnesses. No evidence. Brass will be my alibi.
"Just wondering." How can someone so awful sound so innocent? Argh!
And then, to my absolute and utter astonishment, Grissom speaks. "I imagine it's hard for Sara to find an intellectual equal elsewhere."
Wow.
Just, wow.
My eyes fly to the rearview mirror where Grissom meets my gaze and gives me a small smile. I smile back, speechless. I've actually got tingles. Happy tingles. I know what my PEAP counselor said about looking for validation in inappropriate places, but I have to say, right now it's feeling pretty damn good.
The remainder of the ride is quiet. Greg has effectively been silenced, although he's looking mighty pleased with himself. Soon we arrive at the Lab, unpack our gear and head inside. Grissom stops at the front desk to pick up his messages while Greg and I continue walking to the locker room.
Once Grissom is out of earshot I whack Greg on arm. "What were you doing back there? Are you trying to make my life Hell?"
"Sara, you know I love you, right?"
I stop dead and turn to face him. "Oh, don't even go there…"
Greg laughs. "Hey, if I can't have you, the least I can do is help you get the guy you want."
I drop my voice to an angry whisper. "By suggesting that I'm 'dating' Mike? Are you kidding me? You saw what happened when Grissom found out about Hank. What do you think is going to happen now? I'm going to be doing solo decomps in the desert for the next six months!"
"Hey. Trust me on this. Men speak in code. Clearly you do not understand the code or you'd have landed you-know-who by now."
"Trust you?" I'm practically spluttering. "Greg…."
He cuts me off with the wave of his hand. "Seems to me, somebody got a very nice compliment tonight. That doesn't sound like anger or retribution."
I have to concede this point. Does this mean I need to start taking dating advice from Greg?
We resume walking to the locker room. After changing into our street clothes we clock out and head for the exit. We pass Grissom in the hall and give him a wave.
"Sara," he calls after us.
I stop and turn. "Yes?"
"Come by my office tonight before shift starts."
I cock my head to the side and regard him curiously. He doesn't seem mad. If anything, he seems excited.
"I have something for you," he explains further.
Every now and then I look at Grissom and I swear that he reminds me of a five year old. He gets this really eager expression, like when he makes a break in case, and I have a flash of what he must have looked like as a little kid. It's totally adorable. He's got that expression right now, like he's just discovered a new species of bug or something.
"Really?" I smile, intrigued.
"Really." He nods and stares at me intently. "Have a good time tonight at your class."
I wonder if he would have said something different, or something more, if Greg hadn't been standing beside me. "I will, thanks."
As I drive home from work I keep replaying the scene in the car over and over. I can't believe what Grissom said, and the look he gave me when he said it. There was no reason unless… Unless… I haven't imagined what's between us after all.
Okay, maybe I do like Greg after all. Just a little.
TBC…
Note: Next chapter will be several days. I'm taking a Harry Potter break this weekend!