Disclaimer: Not my characters, merely taken and shaken.
Author: hazeleyes57
Title: Last Chance Ch. 15
Rating: PG
SPOILER ALERT: Significant Miami CSI development Season 3 ( I think, not having actually seen it).
Last Chance Chapter 15
At the end of the shift, Grissom was grateful to get back home. He was exhausted and desperate for a good 'night's' sleep. He was too tired even to eat, despite the fact that his nausea seemed to have abated for the moment.
He ran himself a bath instead of having a shower, and sighed with pleasure as he sank into the hot water, closing his eyes as he rested his head on the back of the tub.
Despite his tiredness Grissom's thoughts returned again to Sara.
His wife.
No matter how many times he said it, he still couldn't quite believe it.
His pregnant wife.
It was ironic that the two things that he never thought would ever happen to him actually had happened and he had no memory of it.
Grissom frowned, his eyes still closed. He thought about all the erotic dreams that he had been having with increasing frequency. How much more detailed and knowledgeable they had been than his 'pre accident' ones.
Were these just dreams or were they actually memories?
Sara said to trust himself and think it through.
They had stayed at his cabin. Several of his fantasies had been set at the cabin; perhaps if he tried to imagine her there something might click. If he had been so…so…besotted – he couldn't think of any other adjective that would explain it – they would sooner or later have worked their way around to trying some of them.
Grissom grinned tiredly.
After all, she did say that the sex had been awesome.
So…the bedroom, that was a given. The shower, maybe? No, he would have stopped before the end, too many accidents in the shower. The hot tub definitely. Major fantasies there, all that epinephrine fuelled misbehaviour. Naked Sara in his tub. Oh yeah. He'd bet that he asked her to go – he stopped himself before he side-tracked away from his inventory. That delicious thought would be on his doughnut schedule later.
Grissom's eyes opened with a puzzled frown.
Doughnut schedule?
Where the hell had that come from?
He searched his thoughts but nothing useful materialised, although he did feel that resonance that he had also experienced with the words 'chalk dust'.
Grissom closed his eyes again and settled deeper in the hot water. This was helping him, he was sure of it.
Supported physically to some extent by the water, he allowed himself to drift mentally, not particularly guiding his thoughts. Within a few minutes he was hardly aware of his body in the tub and was hovering on the edge of sleep.
Sara.
Hot tub.
Hot water.
Washing up.
Sink.
Kitchen table.
The kitchen at the cabin.
In a sudden flash reminiscent of taking a photograph, Grissom saw Sara seated at the table in the kitchen at the cabin. She was smiling the kind of smile that she used when teasing him.
He forced himself not to chase the image. He just remembered the smile and her eyes.
Her lips moved and he could make out her voice.
"Then I guess it's time for bed."
Grissom's eyes opened in shocked surprise and both the image and the voice vanished. He felt the loss keenly.
He sighed in frustration. He knew from bitter experience that it would be no good trying to force the memories, so he tried to distract his attention.
He topped up with more hot water and settled back again.
This time his mind conjured up an image that was all too real.
And bittersweet.
Sara in her bedroom.
Grissom went through every moment of that too short encounter. He cut out the realisation that it had all gone terribly wrong, and just remembered the feel of her in his arms, under his hands, and against his body.
Her lips under his.
Heaven.
Now that he was looking at the scene with the benefit of hindsight, he suddenly realised that he had made a mistake. Several, in fact.
Grissom sat up abruptly, making the bath water swirl violently around him.
He wiped his sweating face with wet hands and wondered what it was about Sara that made him stupid.
Sara said 'you figure it out'.
He had been so busy denying how he fit into the equation that he hadn't really examined how Sara fit into it.
He had even suggested that it was a marriage of convenience.
Grissom shook his head, exasperated.
Sara didn't need a marriage like that. She wasn't a shrinking violet that needed her pregnancy to be cloaked in the respectability of marriage. She had said it herself; 'sure, I'd like to say, 'Hi guys, guess what?' '
Sara hadn't married him because she thought that she had to. She had done so because she wanted to. More of Mrs. Weston's lyrical wedding descriptions filtered through from his phone call with her. How romantic she had thought it was, how happy they had both been.
Both.
Not just him.
Various memories from after the car crash paraded themselves past him, almost as if taunting him with the knowledge of how much he had missed – or chosen not to see.
Right back to the first moments after he had regained consciousness.
The naked concern on Sara's face. How often had he dreamed that she would look at him like that?
'Oh, honey! I was so worried!'
She had leaned towards him, had intended to kiss him.
He knew that he had hurt her when he had recoiled.
Then later she had pointed out that he wasn't the only one suffering.
Little clues here and there in the intervening weeks now leapt out at him.
He'd been so blinded by panic that he was going to lose what little 'relationship' that he had with Sara that he had failed to see what had been obvious all along.
She had married him simply because she loved him.
It was the only explanation.
It was also the most difficult one for him to believe.
Sara had been trying to protect him. Trying to give him the only chance to remember that he might have.
Why else would she have been so distressed about keeping the information from him?
Grissom could see it all from Sara's point of view now. He had been concerned about his difficulties, while she was trying to cope with the loss of her partner – her husband – and a difficult pregnancy. How she had managed to keep it all together without giving in to the temptation to tell him everything he didn't know, but he felt ashamed of his part in it all.
He wiped his face again, then started to wash.
God knows why he was sitting in the tub when he had things to do.
People to see.
He could sleep some other time.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Grissom left the offices of his lawyer and shaded his eyes against the bright sunlight. The purpose of his visit had been to sign his revised Will, but it had taken longer than expected once he had informed them that he was now married to Sara. Even in Vegas the law took time. The amount they charged, he was in the wrong job.
He looked at his watch and thought that he had better get something to eat.
As soon as he thought of food his stomach flipped uneasily. He patted the pockets of his jacket to see if he had any crackers left. He had discovered that if he had a cracker as soon as the churning started – or even better, before it started – it made the effects much less severe.
Having found one last packet, Grissom finished it by the time he reached his Denali.
As he climbed into the driver's side he glanced at the book on the front passenger seat. He had been truly astonished by the sheer number of books available about pregnancy and he had managed to take over an hour to make his selection; at least it had made the wait for the lawyers a little less onerous.
He wasn't even going to think about the look that the store assistant had given him when he made his purchase. Just because he had a few grey hair didn't put him in his dotage. There was nothing wrong with grey hair – ask any bald man.
Lots of men his age were having a family, or starting a second one. Usually with women that were young enough to be their daughters, admittedly. At least he could say with a reasonably clear conscious that fifteen years wasn't that bad. Not really.
Realising that he was beginning to depress himself, Grissom started the engine and drove home for lunch.
During the drive and after he had arrived at his townhouse, his mind kept going back to Catherine's statement regarding his symptoms. He had not seen any evidence that Sara was suffering unduly with any of the usual pregnancy signs, and to be honest, if she felt the way he had been feeling of late, he didn't think that she would have been able to hide it all the time. He was certainly not able to. But just because he had them and Sara did not, didn't mean that he was suffering 'sympathetic' symptoms.
Grissom had heard about sympathetic pregnancies and one of the reasons he had chosen the book that he had was because it had a small paragraph on the subject. Also known as Couvade syndrome, it was named after the practice of certain peoples whereby the man imitates the behaviour etc, of his pregnant wife, even to the point that he is put to bed at the time of birth.
Well, he wasn't having any of that crap. He would just shake off this viral thing, whatever it was, and he'd be back on top.
Wherever that was.
Grissom was not yet prepared to acknowledge even to himself what having the syndrome could mean – that he had a strong emotional/psychological attachment to Sara.
If he admitted that it was the syndrome he would have to admit in his conscious mind that he loved Sara.
Denial ain't just a river in Africa.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Catherine looked at her email and read it for a third time.
It was from Horatio Caine in Miami.
Asking her if she would be prepared to - temporarily - go and work in Florida, to cover the loss of one of their investigators. The Vegas team had already heard on the grapevine about CSI Speedle, and mourned the loss of a colleague.
Catherine was forcibly reminded just how dangerous their chosen profession could be.
The cover would likely be for only a month while they arranged for a new permanent member of staff.
Catherine was seriously considering taking Caine up on his offer – a month in Miami! – until she remembered Lindsay.
Without Eddie, Catherine was more tied to location with regards to her daughter. Truth be told, Lindsay would probably leap at the chance to go to Miami, but this was one time that she was going to have to be disappointed.
Catherine had started to reply to the email but stopped, suddenly having a brainwave.
A crafty smirk stole over her features.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sara looked at the email, then back up to Catherine.
"But he's asking for you."
Catherine gave a breezily dismissive wave of one hand.
"Worked together before, familiar face and name."
She looked at Sara.
"This is ideal for you. It will be good experience and it will only be for a few weeks – you haven't got anything brewing that can't wait a month or so, have you?"
Sara mentally reviewed her clinic appointments and the all important ultrasound scan date.
Her instinctive response had been a flat 'no' to going away – particularly from Grissom at this time. But now she began having second thoughts.
"No, nothing that won't wait until I get back."
Catherine took that as a possible 'yes'.
"Give it some thought and let me know by the end of shift. I'll need to run it by Grissom when he gets back from his scene and also let Horatio Caine know by tomorrow morning."
Sara nodded, returning to her work.
Catherine left the lab and returned to Grissom's empty office where she drafted a reply to her email and prepared the paperwork for Sara's temporary transfer on the basis that it wouldn't hurt to have the papers ready for Grissom to sign. She didn't send the email reply, merely kept it handy for when she heard from Sara.
Back in the lab, Sara had come to a natural break in her work. She had an hour to kill while she waited for some results back from Greg, so it was a convenient time to go and grab some food.
Sitting at the briefing table with her pasta salad, she had one of Catherine's glossy mags spread out in front of her but the latest fashions failed to find a kindred spirit in Sara.
She was still considering her options about Catherine's offer.
She really didn't want to go away from Grissom for long.
Having said that, it might be just what was needed to shake him up.
Give him a new perspective.
Show him what life without Sara might be like.
It would be good for her too. Change of scenery and a change of pace probably. It would be day shift too, and she hadn't done that in a while.
Sara flipped a page of the magazine over, skimming the articles without any real intention of retaining the information. Who really cared which celebrity was pregnant this month? They were all at it.
She gave a lop-sided grin at her thoughts. Since she had found out about her own pregnancy, pregnant women seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.
If she went to Miami it would be in the next couple of days. She wouldn't have to tell the others about the baby until she got back, by which time it would be glaringly obvious anyway. If she were away for a month she would be up to eighteen weeks when she returned. Nearly half way through.
Awesome.
But such a pity that Gill was missing this.
Sara wondered briefly how Grissom was going to take her absence. Catherine may be dealing with the 'paperwork', but it still had to be rubber stamped by the night shift Supervisor.
The luck that she had been having lately, the chances were that he would conveniently forget where the rubber stamp was.
She hoped Catherine had a spare one.
Sara got up from the table and disposed of her rubbish. She was rinsing her mug out when Warrick came in for his 'lunch'. He crossed to the fridge and collected his food.
"Hey, Sara. How's it going?"
Sara glanced at him as she dried off the mug.
"Okay." She nodded. " Just waiting on Greg. You?"
"I'm good. Making progress with the case. I'll be glad when we catch this sicko, I can tell you."
As Warrick had been speaking, Sara had leaned against the counter to reach up and place her mug on the shelf. As she did so, her belly pushed against the unit and she felt as if a bubble of wind had moved from one side to the other and back inside her abdomen. It was such an extraordinarily odd sensation that she gasped aloud and put her hand to her stomach before she could stop herself.
"Sara?"
Warrick was on his feet in an instant.
"Sara? You okay?"
Warrick came over to Sara and put a hand on her shoulder, looking at her hand on her stomach.
Sara didn't answer at first, uncertain as to what to say. She thought that she was okay, but it was several seconds before it dawned on her what had happened.
She laughed with uncertain relief.
Sara had just felt her baby move for the first time.
She turned to Warrick, her eyes shining.
"It's okay, I'm fine. It was nothing. Just wind."
Warrick had one of those moments of sudden clarity where information that collates in your subconscious mind suddenly reaches critical mass and expands into your conscious mind.
Sara was pregnant.
It explained several things, especially that little scene in the supply store.
Sara was pregnant and Grissom knew about it. That's why he hadn't wanted her climbing.
The information in Warrick's brain had been processed in a fraction of a second, and he looked at Sara with perceptive eyes. He noted the gently rounded belly under her hand and a small grin escaped.
"Wind, huh?"
Sara saw and heard the change in Warrick's expression and tone.
What the hell, she didn't mind.
She smirked.
"Yeah. Wind."
Warrick's smile widened.
"Well, congratulations, and if you and 'wind' need the help of a friend, you know my number."
Sara was touched that he had accepted her news without censure and was obviously prepared to keep her news to himself.
"I'll bear that in mind. And…thanks, War."
"Anytime, kiddo."
It didn't occur to Sara until later that Warrick hadn't asked about or even mentioned the baby's father.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Grissom returned to his office after having dropped off the samples for processing on the way. He placed his silver coloured case on the floor in the corner by the metal shelving and then turned to his desk. He cast a casual glance over the papers and letters that had been left in his absence, intending to leave them for now and get a drink.
In the same way that you always hear your own name in a crowded room, Sara's name leapt off the page in front of him.
Grissom slowly picked up the piece of paper and read through it.
He swore.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Catherine's cell rang and she put it up to her ear. She immediately pulled it away slightly.
"Ah, you found it already. You're back early. Okay, see you in a few."
She shut her cell, and the amused look that had appeared briefly on her face indicated her private satisfaction with the direction of the conversation.
Insert one bee in one bonnet.
Stand back.
Observe.
God she loved her job.
She looked at Nicky who had been doing a great job of not listening to the conversation. Not.
He was painstakingly piecing together glass from a broken window to establish the direction of impact.
"I have to go see Grissom. We cool?"
Nicky nodded.
"For sure. I'll be some while yet."
He returned to his work as Catherine left the lab.
Catherine walked up the corridor towards Grissom's office. She pondered on the idea of side-tracking to see Sara on the way, let her know that Grissom had seen the papers. That and the whole 'not happy' thing.
If it had been her, she would have appreciated a warning.
Catherine veered off and went to find Sara, last seen in Trace.
Ten minutes later, Grissom looked up from his desk to see Sara enter his office.
He recognised the 'braced for battle' look on her face and made a note to himself to have a word with Catherine about the chain of command.
"Catherine just told me that you have a problem with the Miami thing."
Make that several words.
Grissom removed his glasses to bring Sara back into focus. His voice was as mild as he could make it under the circumstances.
"I don't have a problem with it, I just wish that you had talked to me about it first."
Sara's stance softened slightly.
"I would have if you had been here. Catherine got an email from the Miami lab asking for her, she can't go and showed it to me. I haven't even decided if I was definitely going yet."
Grissom looked at Sara while she was speaking. This was precisely the reason why he thought that it would be bad for them to be having a relationship and working together. She wanted to go to Miami and he wanted her to stay here and not risk any trouble with the pregnancy.
At least he was assuming that she wanted to go to Miami.
"Have you made a decision now?"
Sara looked at him. The great stone face was in place, but it didn't hide as much as it used to before they were married.
He was trying to be impartial, but he didn't want her to go.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she would stay, but she had not replied quickly enough.
Grissom tapped the paper on the desk.
"I think that you should go. It'll be good for you, add to your experience. I'm sure that you'll be careful."
Sara was sure that her mouth had dropped open in surprise as he stood up from the desk and turned to fiddle with something on the shelving behind his chair.
Grissom's tone and stance were dismissive. It didn't matter, she didn't matter. That last little crack about being careful pissed her off too.
Sara took a deep breath and let the air out slowly. Simple contrariness made her want to say that she was going to stay anyway. With effort, she reined in her natural urge to argue.
"So you're happy for me to go to Miami? I have your full blessing?"
Grissom glanced briefly at her before looking away again.
"Mmm? When have you ever need my blessing?"
Sara gritted her teeth. She managed to keep her mouth closed. 'Because now you are my husband you…you…ooh!' She couldn't think of a suitable epithet and that annoyed her even more.
"Right. Fine. I'll go then. As soon as it can be arranged."
Sara didn't wait for a reply; she turned and left the office without another word.
Grissom's head bowed and his shoulders slumped.
She was going and it was his own fault.
He turned and looked at the application form on his desk and in a sudden fit of pique he picked it up and shredded it. It didn't solve anything and it didn't make him feel any better, but he had wanted to do it anyway.
Grissom sighed heavily and pursed his lips. He seated himself at the desk, took out a new form and started to fill it in.
He still felt sick.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sara picked up her hand luggage and walked back to the check-in desk for her flight to Miami.
She had said her temporary goodbyes at work yesterday morning, two days after she had left Grissom's office.
Warrick had offered to drive her to the airport and once there had refused to let her carry her own case.
The tall man smiled as Sara approached him. He searched her face.
"You okay?"
Sara gave him a smile of reassurance.
"Fine. We're okay."
Warrick looked her over like a brother checking out that his sister was okay to travel. Now that he had figured out about the pregnancy, it was obvious, even with her loose blouse top over a T.
"Lookin' good."
"Yeah."
The overhead signs informed those that needed to know that the flight was now boarding.
Sara gave Warrick a one armed hug and when they parted she lifted her chin.
"See you."
Warrick gave a one-hand side wave and nodded. He saw Sara look searchingly around the people going to and fro before she went through to her flight.
No prizes for guessing who she was looking for.
Sara found her seat on the plane with no trouble. She stowed her bag and took her seat, put on the belt and read the laminated safety instructions sheet. Bored with that, she put on the seat headset to listen to the radio as the plane started its slow trundle to the runway.
She was very disappointed but not surprised that Grissom had not been at the airport. Some days she thought that she was beginning to get him figured out, then he would throw her another curveball and she didn't know him at all.
But she still loved him. Her husband.
The aircraft noise didn't drown out the music in her ears, so Sara lay back and closed her eyes as the next song started.
'I thought I saw a man brought to life, he was warm, he came around like he was dignified. He showed me what it was to cry. Well you couldn't be that man I adored, you don't seem to know or seem to care what your heart is for. I don't know him anymore, there's nothin' where he used to lie, my conversation has run dry, that's what's goin' on, nothin's fine, I'm torn, I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel, I'm cold and - '
Sara tore the plugs out of her ears. The last frigging thing she needed was to start bawling like a baby now. She took deep breaths and willed her tears not to fall.
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. It's only a month; we can get through this. In sickness and in health. In sickness and in health.
The plane rapidly gained speed and the going got bumpy until suddenly the shaking and rumbling noise ceased as the aircraft left the ground.
Sara summoned up her fighting spirit. Her tears fell anyway and she dashed them aside.
'Okay. You have a month Gil Grissom, and then we're coming to find you. Ready or not.'
Back on the ground Warrick watched until the plane was a small dot in the sky.
"She get away okay?"
Warrick turned without surprise and lifted one eyebrow as he looked at Grissom.
"Yeah."
Grissom also looked at the vanishing speck. He had seen Sara's last look around.
"Good."
Both men turned to leave once the plane was no longer visible.
Warrick had on his best poker face as he glanced sideways at Grissom.
"Congratulations by the way."
TBC.
'Torn' sung by Natalie Imbruglia, lyrics used without permission but with respect from the 'Left of the Middle' album.