Of Decades and Train Whistles.
A/N: So sorry this took longer in updating.
"Damnit!" Rose's ear perked up at Sara's exclamation, though she made no effort to inquire at the cause of it. Sara had been quietly sulking for a few days now, though she was reluctant to admit to herself the reason why.
She missed Grissom.
There, she'd said it. Sara waltzed from corner to corner of her room; her brain telling her that missing Grissom had put her in this mood. She wasn't depressed or let down, Sara found that she was more pissed off than anything. She refused to go through getting over Grissom again, and picked up her phone more than once to dial his number.
"Shit," she paused, before clicking off the phone and tossing it to her bed. Sara felt like a thirteen year old with an uncontrollable crush.
"Shit."
Sara's eyebrow raised and she blushed a little, not realizing her son had been standing in the doorway.
"Alex, don't repeat that, please." She turned to smile at him, knowing that he was random in his choice of phrases that he repeated anyway. Flipping on her cd player she grabbed a still Alex and swung with him to the music. He only stared at her for a minute, before she tickled him and he started to giggle.
Grissom scrunched his face up in the mirror of the flip down sun-visor in his car. He knew it was August, but the bright sun annoyed him anyway. Campus was becoming busier with students, and the camp that Alex was at was in its last week. He hadn't seen Sara in over a week, and he'd grown accustomed to her company again, finding that he rather enjoyed it. And though it felt like punishment, Grissom remembered that he'd been the one to back off in the first place.
As he walked towards his building from the car he found himself taking a detour, his thoughts distracting him and his body working on autopilot. Instead of walking through the doors to his wing, Grissom walked into the building where Alexander was at camp. Since it was lunchtime, most of the kids were chattering to themselves and making a mess, whereas Grissom spotted Alex sitting off by himself, taking apart his sandwich and eating one element of it at a time. The worker wasn't with Alex though, and Grissom stepped into the room instinctively to find her.
Alex heard Grissom's voice as he spoke to the counselors, and rose to go see him. Grissom's keys hung off his belt on a retractable key chain, and Alex pulled the keys out, letting them slip back to Grissom's hip.
"Griss-om."
Alex's focus was on something over Grissom's shoulder, but he kept playing with the keys.
"Hi Alex."
"Griss-om." Griss smiled as he took Alexander's hand and guided him back to where he'd been sitting, talking to him and getting him to eat more lunch. Grissom didn't speak too much, though he found he enjoyed sitting with Alex because neither had the urge to fill in the silence. They shared a box of animal crackers, and as the counselors started to round up the kids for the afternoon activities, Grissom realized that he should probably get going as well. He said goodbye to Alex's aide and then to Alex, who responded with a random comment.
"Oh how I want to break free."
Both aide and Grissom paused for a second, before the image of Sara dancing and singing into a hairbrush flashed before Grissom's eyes, causing him to smirk. He tore a page from the event journal in Alexander's knapsack and scribbled something on it.
"Your mother has been listening to Queen." Grissom stated to Alex, who was studying him as Grissom folded the note neatly and tucked it into Alex's lunch bag. The room's noise faded behind him as Grissom smiled at Alex, ready to say goodbye. Alex seemed to be quite aware of Grissom's presence, but after a minute he spoke again.
"Baby."
Rose picked Alex up from camp that afternoon, and when they got home she got him to help unpack all the groceries in the kitchen. They steered clear of Sara, who was sitting at the table and pouring over paperwork, in preparation of sending Alex off to his new class in a week. She'd take him there in a few days, to let him explore the classroom on his own terms. Conflicting thoughts were interrupted however as Rose tossed a folded note Sara's way.
"I assume this is for you," Rose pouted, in a tone meant to tease.
Rolling her eyes playfully, Sara unfurled the paper and read the three words aloud.
"We'll cook tomorrow."
"We?" Rose squinted, "Him and Alex? What can they cook?"
"Rose. Be nice" Sara replied, smiling regardless. "Dinner, I think.." she continued, before scrunching up her face. "Ugh. I didn't want Alex ever learning how to properly prepare bugs."
Rose dropped the spoon from the egg salad sandwich spread she was making back into the mixing bowl, and looked at Sara inquisitively.
"There's a proper way?"
As it turned out, Grissom could make a pretty good stir-fry. Alex helped with the washing of the ingredients, and setting the table. They ate at Grissom's condo, a place that all three felt comfortable in, Sara because she was in company she enjoyed, and Alex because it was his style, Sara thought. Minimalist, with all the little knick-knacks in their own proper place.
After dinner Alex was sat on the couch with a new video on trains that Sara had bought him, leaving Sara and Grissom a little time to converse. They danced around with light topics at first, the coffee mugs filled with steamy liquid twice before Sara's curiosity peaked.
"Why'd you run?"
"I didn't run," Grissom countered, quite sure of himself. Sara only sighed.
"Back off, disappear, saunter slowly away. Semantics, Gris."
He was quiet for a minute, favouring a sip of coffee over answering immediately. Train whistles sounded from the video in the living room, followed by Alex's quiet echoing of them.
"When we were at the train station, I became very uncomfortable being the one with sole responsibility of Alexander while there."
Sara put down her coffee mug, a little annoyed. "So Alex got a little excited, and scared you off."
"Sara," Gris leaned in a little over the table, "this is a new situation for me. I've read many books on autism, but first hand is always different, you know that. I've never raised an autistic child before."
It took a second for Grissom's words to sink in, and Grissom's blush complimented Sara's half smirk, half grin. "You know what I mean."
The rest of the night passed slowly, which Sara enjoyed immensely. She noted that hers and Alex's birthday cards to Grissom were the only ones on display, and for a moment she wondered if they were the only ones to give him anything. Sara inspected the corkboard over Grissom's desk that they were pinned to as Grissom turned off the TV, Alex long having fallen asleep. One scrap of paper caught her attention, and she threw Grissom an amused look.
"Whereas meteors shoot across the sky like demented fireflies, a comet moves with the stately grace of a great ship at sea, its motion hardly apparent." Upon hearing her read the quote out, Grissom perked up and smiled. Noting his reaction, Sara shook her head.
"I don't want to know, do I?"
"It's a quote," Grissom explained, opening the patio door so they could sit out on the balcony. "I think it describes human life, and how most of us are meteors, wishing we could be as graceful as the comets, be at peace, an understanding with ourselves and the world."
But Sara only raised her eyebrow at him; after years of working with Grissom and now in this past year getting to know him again, she knew he sometimes was a little too philosophical.
"It sounds like a textbook explanation of the flight paths of meteors and comets."
"Well, it's from an Earth Sciences textbook." Grissom admitted sheepishly.
Sara only laughed, very glad that she'd come out to Grissom's for dinner. She was quite enjoying herself, and the worry that he might not be had passed during their after dinner coffee. But as it was getting late, she didn't wish to stay too much longer. Alex was carried to the car around midnight, and Sara didn't bother saying goodnight. Her 'I'll see you tomorrow?" was answered with a yes, which was a good night for her, indeed.
A/N 2 : An event journal is a little notebook that's sent along (in this case, to camp with Alex) to document how the day went. Events such as tantrums, fits, accomplishments, seizures, etc. are written down in the journal, so that parents can read it when they get home and see how the day went. It's not actually called an event journal, but it's one of those 'use them all the time, never know the name' things. At the moment I have no idea what they're really called.