Gray Clouds
TEASER: Grissom's mother has a health problem. Response to the 10-24-05 Unbound Improv Challenge and sequel to "Black Wednesday".
RATING: T because you'll have to read between the lines and use your imagination more that last week. Sorry!
SPOILERS: Set between Season 6 "Gum Drops" and "Secrets and Flies".
DISCLAIMERS: If I owned them, I wouldn't need to write fanfiction. No profit for me. All of that goes to Bruckheimer, et al.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: You'll get more from this story if you read the others in the series first. Reviews appreciated, archived at my site, and they aren't my SOX, but at least there are no traitors to RED SOX NATION in their pitching rotation. GO WHITE SOX! First and last lines given, 1000 word limit for the story itself; according to MS Word 2003, I made it with 5 words to spare.
CSI CSI CSI
Grissom struggled with his emotions as he watched the ambulance drive away. The azure sky did nothing to disperse the gray clouds of ambiguity that had settled over him. He wasn't sure whether to sigh in relief that he had arrived just as his mother passed out, scream in anger that she hadn't done as he requested and call 911, or collapse in fear for his mother's life.
He opted for what had become his standby when his emotions threatened to overwhelm him: contact Sara. She was back in Vegas sleeping, but he didn't think she would mind. In fact, he thought she would be unhappy if he didn't call under the circumstances.
"Sidle," she answered on the third ring, her voice thick with that sexy sleepiness that made him want to stay home and play rather than go to the lab to work.
"Hi, honey."
"Gil!" He heard rustling sheets and assumed she sat up. "How's your mom?"
"On the way to the hospital. She passed out at the door." He filled her in on her condition and his plans.
On the other end, she sighed. "Give her my best. Not to be flip at a time like this, but how are we playing this, Gil?"
Now he sighed. In another few weeks, he would be ready to share their relationship with the team – and take the crap from Catherine about lying to them and her loss of the Grissom-Sidle Wedding Day pool – but right now, he wasn't ready mentally or emotionally to handle even the happy reactions he expected from the guys. "Act surprised when Catherine tells you."
"Tomorrow's my day off and I'm maxed out on overtime. I'll call you with my flight info."
The gray clouds of ambiguity parted with a fresh breeze at her words. "I'll be waiting. Use my American Express."
"Gil, I can-"
"Sara, please? Let me. It's . . . it's important to me."
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you. Have a good shift."
The drive to the hospital didn't seem as long with Sara's words echoing in his head. Nor did the sea of paperwork he needed to complete for his mother seem as wide or as deep as he feared. Even waiting for test results wasn't as bad as he feared, perhaps because with his mother sleeping the sleep of the heavily medicated he could daydream about Sara without an inquisition until the doctor came by on late evening rounds after 10:00.
The neurologist had better news than he expected. "I think it's probably a small subdural hematoma in the left hemisphere of her brain. Has she had any falls lately?"
Grissom told him about an e-mail from Monday. "She didn't fall, but she was evaluating an art collection last Sunday and knocked her head pretty hard on a low beam in an attic."
The neurologist nodded. "That would do it. I'll start treatment, since it won't hurt her if the tests show something else. Go home and get some rest, Dr. Grissom. She'll sleep through the night."
He got a surprisingly good night's sleep before he picked Sara up at the airport. When they arrived at the hospital, they found his mother sitting up in bed, more than ready to talk.
She welcomed Sara to the family with a few rapid motions. Grissom found Sara's resulting blush entirely too alluring in his mother's presence, but her hands moved on to the medical report.
Grissom interpreted for Sara. "It is a subdural hematoma. The bleeding has stopped, but if the absorption isn't going to his liking, he'll go in to relieve the pressure. She wants to know if you think she should get a wig or just wear her Red Sox hat if she has to have surgery." He stared at his mother. "You have a Red Sox hat?"
"Of course," she signed back. "As soon as you told me about Sara's obsession 10 years ago, I became a citizen of Red Sox Nation."
"You told her about me when we first met?" Sara's smile wasn't just alluring, it was damned sexy.
"She says all she heard for months was 'Sara this' and 'Sara that.' She feels like she knows you better than she knows me."
"That's it," Sara said, making sure to face his mother as she spoke, "I'm enrolling in an ASL course so we can talk without him."
"Great. I'll have no secrets."
The next day, his mother went home with a neighbor, insisting that he and Sara go back to Vegas. She did extract a promise of a Thanksgiving visit from them, however.
On the way home, Sara said she hated sleeping without him, then told him exactly why. He came within a few seconds of asking if he could join the Mile High Club with her before the seat belt sign came on. He had to wait until they got home, but the delay made their lovemaking more passionate than ever.
He whistled his way to the break room that night, happily announcing his mother's good health to his team Even Catherine's rant couldn't bring gray the clouds back.
"Damn it, Grissom, you've got to manage her overtime better. Sara can't be maxed out this early in the month. Especially if you're going to have emergencies."
Nick choked on his coffee and Warrick looked up from the box of gloves he was sorting as Greg spluttered out a response. "Um, Cath, emergencies really can't be planned."
"Smart ass. You know what I mean." Catherine turned on Sara. "You couldn't have fudged a day next month for me? Needed a Michael fix overnight?"
Warrick put a glove to his mouth and started to blow it up behind Catherine's back. Grissom bit his lip trying not to smile at the implications, though Sara burst out laughing and Nick and Greg hid their faces in their arms on the table.
"What?" Catherine whirled around as the rubber glove flew trough the lab.