Disclaimer: If I owned CSI or anything associated with it, I wouldn't feel the need to be writing this, now would I?
Spoilers: References here and there, but we've seen all the episodes by now, haven't we?
Summary: G/S, cause that's how it should be. Sequel to "Bible Thumper," Vivian's back and is out for blood…
A/N: Special thanks to Kati Owen for yelling at me for the ending of the first… I might never have had the guts to follow in others' footsteps!
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Chapter 1
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Grissom awoke to feel Sara's nearly nude body tucked closely into his own. He let his hands drift and explore, softly so as not to wake her, just to be sure it wasn't another dream. He didn't have enough limbs, enough hairs on his body to count the many dreams he'd awoken from, only to find himself lonely and without her. He'd silently cursed himself for hurting her, for pushing her away so many times. It was torture how he could be so happy in these fantasies, then be so close to the real thing and be miserable every night at work.
Now, laying next to her and feeling her unconsciously wiggling closer towards him, he knew he wasn't dreaming. He enjoyed the feel of her against him, skin on skin. He reveled in his happiness, wrapping his arm protectively around her, remembering how they'd come to be here.
Three days ago, after catching Vivian Corinth, Catherine had insisted they take some time off for Sara to recover. She and the boys would cover court and overflow for the next few days, while Sara and Grissom took advantage of the vacation time they never used.
Grissom's mind drifted to other moments that had led them to this place. Sara touching his cheek at a scene, presumably to wipe chalk off his face… Grissom letting slip at the hockey rink that he thought she was beautiful… The two of them working on a scene when they didn't even need to speak to know what the other was theorizing, what others called "The Grissom and Sara Show"… Grissom sending her a plant to keep her from leaving… Sara dropping everything to come to Vegas the saqme day he'd asked her to help after Holly Gribbs died…
His thoughts were interrupted as Sara turned to face him.
"What's going on in that head of yours?" she asked, causing the movie reel of memories to cease.
Grissom looked her in the eye as she smiled, pulling him back into the present he still wasn't convinced was real.
"Just thinking," he replied, giving her no insight into his thoughts.
Her smile faded as she broke eye contact to look at anything but his face.
"You'll never put down those walls, will you? I've tried… God knows I've tried to break through, even hide behind them, but…" She stopped, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Grissom wrapped his arms protectively, if not possessively around her, letting her sob into his chest, stroking her hair for comfort. When she'd finished, he pushed her back far enough to look deep into her eyes.
"I know what it's like to want to know someone inside and out. I know how frustrating it is when you can't figure them out, when they won't come out of hiding… I've been trying to figure you out for years." He paused before continuing. "But, Sara, if you know anything about me, you know that I've been building those walls for so long… It will take a while for them to fall." What he didn't mention was that with each tear that fell from her eyes, another section of his fortress crumbled, leaving him vulnerable.
He planted a kiss on her forehead and changed the subject, as much for his own self-preservation as for hers. "How 'bout some breakfast? I make a mean omelet."
Wiping her eyes, she looked at the clock. "It's six o'clock! Have we been sleeping that long?"
Nodding, Grissom unwillingly separated himself from her warmth and climbed out of bed. His clothes still lying in a heap on the floor, he pulled a shirt and some sweatpants on over his boxers and made his way to the kitchen, leaving Sara some privacy while she searched for her own clothes.
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When she came into the kitchen, Grissom already had breakfast cooking.
"One giant vegetarian omelet, complete with mushrooms, onions and peppers, on the way!" he said with a smile as she found a seat on a barstool at the breakfast bar. Sara smiled at his efforts to please her and let her mind wander, picturing life as it would be for the next few months.
She was brought back to the present when Grissom joined her at the bar, placing the sizzling omelet before her. As they ate, they talked about trivial things, including stories about people they used to know and weird tidbits of information they'd picked up over the years, both contributing a fair amount to the conversation, amazed at how much you can learn from the little things.
Their conversation was interrupted, however, when Grissom's cell phone danced across the nearby coffee table. He looked at it and chose to ignore it. When his house phone began to ring as well, the cacophony it caused brought them both to their feet.
"I'll answer the house phone," Sara offered, as Grissom got up to grab his cell.
"It's Cath," he said before flipping his cell open. "Grissom."
"They won't hold her!" Catherine said, clearly frustrated. "After everything that bitch did, they're letting her go!"
"Cath, slow down… Are you talking about Vivian Corinth? What happened to the journal?"
"Ecklie lost it! He took it to compare to a day shift case that he thought was similar, and now says that it was 'misplaced.' God, I'm going to kill him!"
"That was the only piece of convicting evidence!" Grissom checked his pulse, and then turned to glance at Sara as she spoke on a portable phone on the couch. He wasn't sure if the look on her face was shock or fear.
"I know! And now that bitch is going to go free because she never actually confessed on the tapes and she left no trace at the crime scenes. I've never hated the justice system as much as I do right now!"
"Cath, calm down… We need to get everyone who worked that case to the lab ASAP and figure out what can be done to take her down." With not so much as a 'goodbye,' he hung up and joined Sara on the couch with a plop, checking his pulse once more.
Glancing over, Sara chuckled dryly. "Is it up to 95 yet?"
Remembering that conversation from what seemed like ages ago, he glanced her direction. "110," he answered.
"You really are upset," she whispered, moving closer and brushing his cheek with the back of her hand as she had that night long ago, before leaning her head on his chest. "She's just going to keep hurting people, isn't she?"
He sighed and put his arm around her. "No," he answered. "We won't let her. We just need to regroup and go over what we've got to find out what we missed."
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No sooner did the crew arrive in the break room then did Grissom's phone ring.
"Grissom," he answered.
"Got a body for you at the courthouse," came Brass's gruff voice.
"Brass, our shift hasn't started yet…"
"You'll see why I didn't call swing shift when you get to the courthouse," Brass retorted. "Better make it quick. The media's already here."
Hanging up, Grissom turned to the crew.
"Duty calls… Let's go." Turning to Sara, he asked, "Are you sure you want to come? I understand if-"
"No, I'm coming, Gil. I won't let anyone else suffer at the hand of this false prophet. I'll make the bitch pay for what she's done."
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