Disclaimer: Trademark product, mine only to borrow for high jinx. I wish.
Title: Last Chance, chapter 20
Summary: Truth will out.
Author's note: Sorry for the terrible delay, will try to do better next time. I had hoped to wind up the tale here, but it wouldn't let me. If Grissom's mother has been named in canon, I apologise for not using it, but I don't know what it is. My choice of Mary was in honour of a delightful five-foot tall bundle of energy that I shall one day have the pleasure to call my mother in law.
Rating: R
Last Chance Chapter 20
Sara looked around Grissom's office at the eclectic display of samples and specimens, anything to avoid catching his eye and seeing his pain. She was carrying enough of her own.
Unlike her, Grissom's gaze was entirely focused on one thing. Sara's face. It was a measure of his new faith that he didn't just assume that Sara had decided that – despite all her protests – that she really didn't love him after all. He forced himself to take a breath, then another. His face felt as if someone was pouring ice water under his skin. He was quite certain that he would find his voice in a minute, but what to say with it? Sara looked as if she was preparing to bolt and he couldn't let her leave without giving him some explanation for her change of mind. He forced himself to think calmly and not panic. Christ, every time he thought that he had he had some measure of sanity and stability in his life, something came and upset the balance. So many aspects to cope with at the same time and the good Lord saw fit to give women the ability to multitask.
To Sara's perception, the silence after Grissom's exclamation of 'What?' seemed to have gone on for an age. She ought to be used to him taking his time to gather his thoughts, but she wanted this terrible moment to be over. She was already regretting what she had said, a knee jerk reaction to the shock of Greg's announcement about the day shift's betting pool. Setting aside that fact that she loved Gil and wanted to be with him in every way, it was impractical to change her mind at this late date as she had already packed and given notice on her apartment. She should have thought this through better before she coming in here. What reason could she give for not completing the move that would not involve Grissom finding out about the 'father unknown' bet? Sara was worried that he would be so angry that he would go and confront the day-shift supervisor about the sick bet, and fall straight into Ecklie's hands, thereby confirming his 'unsuitability' as the night shift Supervisor.
For the first time Sara really understood what Grissom had been up against when he had said that they could not have a relationship. She had only thought about them being together, whilst he had obviously thought about the bigger picture. He had known that their relationship would invite curiosity, speculation and a certain amount of spite. No profession was free from office politics, as Ecklie could attest.
Grissom shifted uncomfortably in his seat and finally managed to form some semblance of an additional response.
"Why? What's happened?"
Reluctantly Sara turned to Grissom and her gaze faltered under the strength of his.
"Nothing…nothing. I just think…that we…that is, I…have been hasty. Rushed you, rushed us…y'know…"
Sara's voice faded away, unable to come up with a strong argument for what she knew was not the truth anyway.
Grissom was beginning to feel less shocked and more positive. He was certain some specific incident had spooked Sara into this blatant lie. He needed time to find out what it was and see what he could do to fix it. Instead of reminding her that they were married, had a baby due in a little over three months and that she had nowhere to live by the end of the month, he tried to give her space he thought she needed.
"I'm sorry that you think that, and for what it's worth I don't see it that way. But I can see that you are having doubts. Do you want more time to think about it?"
He thought that he had handled it well. He had been mature and responsible, and hadn't flown off the handle. Grissom was quite unaware that it appeared to Sara that he thought that she was just having a bout of cold feet and that he wasn't taking it too seriously.
Sara frowned in confusion. Having just achieved the reprieve she needed but didn't really want – to protect Grissom's position – she wanted him to tell her that it didn't matter what anyone else thought, he was taking her home – for good. His thoughtfulness irritated her for no logical reason. She tried to remain calm. Maybe this was hormonal; she wasn't normally this woolly-minded.
"Yes. No. Yes, probably."
Grissom looked as confused as she felt. His eyes followed her as she got to her feet and Sara had the distinct feeling that he was wondering which way to jump. Before he could say anything, she added with a sigh,
"Ask me later."
Grissom abandoned the sentence that he was trying to form. Maybe if he kept quiet Sara would have changed her mind again by the time they were due to leave. In the mean time he had to try to find out what had happened. He had a horrible suspicion that he knew at least part of it.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Miss Sidle!"
Sara halted in the corridor and turned back to face the owner of the voice. She kept her expression impassive, quite certain that she was meant to hear the emphasis on the 'Miss'.
Robert Cavallo did not hurry to meet her. He was used to having most of the staff hurry to meet him. He glanced briefly but pointedly at Sara's absence of a waist before looking at her face.
"I have been informed that you are taking maternity leave and hoping to return to work later in the year."
Sara eyed the Assistant Director with carefully concealed disdain. She had no liking for this man or many of the things he stood for, but he was still the AD.
"That's correct."
She did not like the way the AD had implied that there was a chance that her job wouldn't be here when she tried to come back after the baby was born.
"Mmm. Well, that's good."
He managed to make it sound not good at all. Sara didn't reply, sensing that he wasn't finished.
"We need good CSI's to help maintain the standards in the department."
Sara could almost admire the way Cavallo had just implied that she wasn't one of the 'good' CSI's. Fortunately her belief in her own abilities at work was strong enough to prevent her from getting annoyed.
"True. We also need to make sure that those same high standards are carried throughout every level of the department."
Cavallo's slightly oily smile slipped fractionally as Sara's hit scored.
"Naturally. It's reassuring to see that guidance that I give to the Supervisors is passed on in some part at least."
Sara gave him her patented fake smile, oozing pseudo sincerity. Guidance her ass. Grissom had pulled this man's butt out of the fire more times than she could count.
"Absolutely."
Cavallo eyed her closely. His smile was unpleasant.
"Of course, if I should ever discover that the high standards are being compromised, either in the day to day running of the shifts or their moral compass, I would be forced to take steps."
Yeah, thought Sara, big ones, as you run away and let someone else deal with it.
With one last glare, Cavallo strode off, not remotely interested in Sara's response.
Despite her bravado, Sara was left with the uneasy feeling that she had just been warned about lowering the moral tone of the department with her unmarried and pregnant status. Jeez, this was the twenty first century, how archaic could they get?
She sighed heavily. Two strikes against Grissom then; he was her Supervisor and the baby's father. Kind of ironic that she regarded Grissom as one of the most moral and honest men that she had ever met.
One side of her face lifted in wry amusement. The encounter had solved her dilemma about moving in with Grissom. She was damned if she'd let Cavallo tell her how to run her life.
Besides, she thought with increasing humour, she was married.
Ten minutes later Sara discovered that Grissom was not to be found in the building, and when she eventually gave up looking for him and left to go home, his Denali wasn't in the car lot either.
She went home to her own place to eat and to get some sleep. There was a message on her answer phone from Grissom, telling her that 'something had come up' and that he would out until about noon. She wondered why he had rushed off from the lab, and why he had not called her on her cell. She fell asleep still wondering.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Grissom held his cell to his ear and listened to the ring tone. It went on so long that the answer phone kicked in and he tutted in frustration when he heard Sara's voice telling him to leave his name and number.
He muttered under his breath as he waited for the tone.
"Come on, come on, where are you?"
Beep.
"Sara, if you're there pick up. Sara…? Call me on my cell as soon as you can."
Grissom closed his cell and replaced it in his pocket. There had been no reply on her cell either. It was way past the 'noon' he said that he would contact her by, and soon she would be at work. He hoped that Sara was not out somewhere without her cellphone. He turned around and walked back into the main entrance of the hospital. A prominent sign reminded him that all personal phones must be turned off within the hospital buildings. He swore under his breath, but complied.
He walked back up to the general medical floor and passed the Nurse's Station on his way to one of the small two-bed wards. Only one of the beds was occupied and the patient turned to the door as soon as it opened. The still attractive older woman smiled over her own anxiety and reached out a hand.
"Are you okay?"
Grissom smiled as he crossed to the bed, took hold of the proffered hand. He made sure that they were face to face.
"That should be my line."
The woman pulled a face as she looked at her plastered ankle, then back at him.
"I'm fine dear, you didn't have to come all the way out here. It's a simple clean break, no complications. No need to fuss."
The woman's voice had an odd cadence to it, the pronunciation just a little off.
Grissom sighed with fond exasperation.
"It's no 'fuss' to come out. I only have one mother to visit."
Mrs. Grissom smiled tiredly.
"But it's still a long drive and you must be exhausted. Have you eaten?"
Grissom raised one eyebrow in amusement as he quoted back at her.
" ' No need to fuss.' "
His mother smiled ruefully and her light blue eyes danced, making her look younger.
"Touché, but answer the question. Indulge a poor frail invalid."
Grissom smiled with real humour.
"Frail? You're bombproof. And yes, I had something on the way up here."
Grissom's mother patted the bed beside her knees, indicating that he should be seated there, but he pulled out a chair instead, mindful of the nurse's preferences. His mother continued as soon as he was facing her.
"While we wait for the doctor, you can bring me up to date with everything. How are things in Vegas?"
Grissom pondered briefly on how long it would take his mother to work her way around to asking about his love life. It wouldn't take her long, it never did. Ever the eternal optimist, she had never given up hope of grandchildren, especially whenever she read about some of the older male filmstars marrying much younger women and having second families. Even so, he wondered what her reaction would be to his news.
"Vegas is Vegas. Nothing much changes. But I do have something to tell you though…"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"So what do you think?"
Sara looked up and paused in her fingerprint brushing as Catherine's question sank in. She frowned as she looked at what Catherine was doing, and around at the crime scene.
"Inside job. Glass debris is on the outside of the door; shows it was punched from inside to out. Superficial damage to the - "
Catherine looked both exasperated and amused at the younger woman.
"No, not this, I'm talking about the idea of a baby shower at my place. Weren't you listening?"
Sara answered absently, her focus distracted from the printing by what looked like a piece of thread caught in the damaged wood of the door. After she had saved the thread in a bindle, she again looked up at Catherine from her crouched position, wobbling slightly as her altered centre of gravity put her off balance. The baby was moving around a lot and seemed to kick out whenever she leaned forward.
"I guess not. Sorry. Um, isn't a baby shower supposed to be a surprise?"
Catherine gave Sara a 'duh' look, and shrugged.
"Yeah, but I figured you'd flip without prior warning, and I was right, wasn't I?"
One side of Sara's mouth lifted in wry acknowledgement.
"Yeah, true."
Catherine waited a beat, her expression one of 'and I'm still waiting here'. Eventually her patience ran out.
"And?"
Sara looked surprised, then had an 'oh, yeah' moment.
"It'd be cool, thanks."
"Okay, I'll get it organised."
Catherine went back to photographing the room, leaving Sara to finish what she was doing.
Sara put her brush and powder down and surveyed her handiwork. There were some smudged partials, but nothing useful in the area she had just dusted. She sighed and went to get up. She grunted in pain.
"Um, Catherine, you got a minute?"
Catherine's head appeared around the door to the other room, eyebrows raised.
"Problem?"
Sara looked exasperated.
"Could you give me a hand?"
Catherine, surprised, looked around at Sara's handiwork. It was her usual thorough job.
"Aren't you done here?"
Sara's expression was sheepish, her cheeks tinged with pink.
"Ahuh. Actually, what I meant was could you give me a hand to get up. My leg appears to have gone to sleep."
Catherine managed to confine her amusement to a mild twitch of the lips as she gave Sara a hand to get to her feet. The shift had only been going a short while, no sense in committing suicide by laughing outright.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Gil Grissom, I should box your ears!"
With his mother's indignant tones ringing in his ears Grissom didn't need the threat of extra punishment. He reminded himself that was a grown up and in a few years he would be fifty, but it didn't seem to diminish the feeling that he was a small child being told off. His riposte was mild, all things considered.
"I'd rather you didn't. I admit that I should have told you sooner, but it's been…difficult."
Mary Grissom's shrewd gaze watched the emotions pass over her son's face. Being deaf for a substantial part of her life meant that she relied more on her other senses, and others might miss the subtle clues that were obvious to her. It had been a difficult journey for Gil, of that she had no doubt. She had the strongest feeling that he was leaving out very significant portions of the story so far, but he had never been a boy to speak until he was ready. He would tell her if and when the time was right.
"I'm sure it has. Marriage and fatherhood, it's a huge responsibility that some people are never ready for."
Grissom leaned back in his seat, his right elbow on the arm of the seat, the fingers of his right hand resting on his cheek. He wondered if his mother was thinking about his father, who had left when Grissom was only five. Or rather they had divorced when he was five; his father had been absent emotionally and to some extent physically, long before the divorce.
"Very little prepares you for it, that's for certain. However, I asked her to marry me before we knew about the baby."
Mary was concerned for her son, but chose to put a brave face on the situation. Many a marriage that had got off to a shaky start went on to thrive. She had heard from time to time over the years about Sara Sidle, and had often wondered if there had been more going on than Gil had realised. But whichever way you look at it, a grandchild was a grandchild and deep in her heart Mary Grissom was not sorry about this development.
"Well, you won't have much time to adjust to being a couple before you are parents, but these things happen. You'll have a few months to yourselves."
Grissom realised that his mother had assumed that the baby was unplanned. He had not told her the whole story, and probably never would, but he didn't want her to think that they had merely been careless.
"The baby wasn't a mistake. We…didn't want to wait; I'm not getting any younger."
Mary brightened.
"Neither am I, so when can I meet Sara?"
Grissom frowned slightly, briefly. When indeed?
"Very soon."
He knew that he was hedging, but he would have to go back and speak to Sara. It was his own fault; Sara had been in the difficult position of not being able to tell his mother about the wedding while he was in hospital, because Grissom had not remembered that he was married. He suddenly became aware that his mother had asked him a question.
"Excuse me?"
"I asked you what the wedding was like, and if you had any pictures."
Grissom described the ceremony, quite unaware of his revealing expression and at his mother's prompting, remembered more of the details that all women seem to thrive on; the dress, the matching wedding bands, and the location. Mary Grissom was considerably reassured by the almost, well, dreamy look on the face of her only child, until she realised that he had said bands and noticed that he wasn't wearing one.
"There were some pictures taken, but I don't have them on me. I think Sara has them at her place..."
He could have bitten his tongue out for his moment of uncharacteristic carelessness. His mother was on it as quick as a flash.
"Her place? Doesn't she live with you?"
Crap.
"She's um…moving in…shortly. Had to sort out her apartment and a few things."
"I see."
Grissom was all too aware that his mother probably saw a lot more than he wanted her to. Fortunately for him, he was saved from further questioning by the arrival of a nurse to do the patient's observations.
Thank heaven.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sara made her way to the break room, trying too hard not to look as if she were searching for Grissom. She and Catherine had signed their collected evidence in a half-hour ago, and Warrick had spirited Catherine off with some lame excuse that was as transparent as the glass walls around the department. Sara smiled inwardly, reminding herself that she knew exactly what it was like to want to be with someone so much that any dumb excuse would do.
She casually collected a bottle of water from the fridge and opened its top, turning as she did to the other occupants of the room. She leaned back on the counter and took a swig of the chilled water. Both Nick and Greg were reading; a departmental update and 'Profile of a criminal mind' respectively. Sara was momentarily distracted by Greg's book.
"Hey, Greg, you thinking of another career jump? Lab Rat to criminalist to psychological profiler?"
Greg glanced up over the top of the book.
"I don't think that it hurts to have an understanding of the criminal mind when viewing a crime scene."
"Do you think that is such a thing as a criminal mind? Not just some everyday Joe who has a momentary loss of control or whatever and commits a crime of violence?"
Greg lowered the book, looking at Sara.
"The nineteenth century Italian physician Cesare Lombroso believed criminal types could be identified by their physical characteristics, and that criminal behaviour was hereditary."
"Yeah, that was then, and his theories were disproved."
"But the idea that you could construct a profile of behaviour stuck, and no-one thinks twice now about psychological profiling. Or handwriting analysis, or even geographic profiling."
Greg stopped when he realised that Sara was smirking at him.
"Okay, okay, preaching to the converted. It's interesting, that's all."
Sara patted Greg's shoulder as she walked around his table.
"Yes, it is. And it's why we're here. Because we all want answers to puzzles."
Nick looked up from his bulletin with a knowing grin.
"He's taken a personal day. Had a phone call earlier to say he wouldn't be in."
Sara tried for polite surprise. Was she that obvious?
"Pardon me?"
Nick's grin widened, as did Greg's on seeing Sara's barely disguised chagrin.
"Grissom. Not in tonight."
"I wasn't looking for him."
Nick shrugged nonchalantly, clearly not believing a word of it.
"No? Okay, my mistake."
Sara moved towards the break room's open door. She stopped and looked back, unable to leave well enough alone.
"I was not looking for Grissom."
Bobby was passing by out in the corridor. He stopped and stuck his head in the doorway, having heard the tail end of Sara's statement.
"You lookin' for Grissom? He's not in tonight."
Sara looked heavenward in supplication as she walked past Bobby and up the main corridor. She muttered under her breath as she dialled her husband's cell.
"Does everybody know except me?"
She listened only long enough to hear the start of the service providers' message that the number she was calling was unavailable. Grissom's cell was off. It was never off.
What the frell was going on?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sara didn't even get part of her answer until she returned to her apartment at the end of a busy shift. She was tired and hungry until she saw the message waiting light on her answering machine. She hurried over and listened to the messages, then rang Grissom's cell again. Finally he picked up, and he sounded terse.
"Grissom."
All sorts of thoughts went through Sara's mind. Where was he? How was he? What the hell was going on? Why was his cell off earlier? Why the fuck had he scared her like this? Hell, he could have even text her beeper for Chrissake! She ought to give him a piece of her mind.
"It's me."
Yep, way to go, that showed him. At least he'll be apologetic and explanatory now.
"Where have you been?"
Or not.
"I could ask you the same question. Your cell was off. I have been trying to reach you for hours."
Grissom could tell from her coolly controlled tone that she was angry with him.
"I was in a hospital and had to switch it off, no choice." He added a belated "Sorry."
Sara's stomach took a dip and she clutched the telephone more tightly.
"Why were you in hospital? What's wrong?"
Grissom inwardly cursed, realising too late that he had worried her.
"Nothing, I'm fine. It's my mother. She slipped and broke her ankle."
"Is she okay?"
"She's better than I expected, I feel more sorry for the hospital staff…look, I didn't want to tell you this over the telephone, but I'm going to ask her to come and stay at the townhouse. It'll save driving over to Santa Monica every few days, and I can keep an eye on her."
It never crossed Sara's mind for a second to say 'no' or protest that there was no room.
"Sure, she can use the baby's room. The paint smell has mostly gone."
Grissom was gratified but not surprised that Sara made no excuses not to have his mother stay. He could have made insisted if necessary, but he wanted Sara to know that it was her home too.
"Thank you."
Sara smiled to herself at his subtle relief. She could tell that he had anticipated the possibility of her not agreeing.
"So long as she's better within sixteen weeks. Or it's liable to get a little crowded and noisy."
She heard the smile in Grissom's voice as he replied.
"I'm sure she will."
They talked for a few more minutes, both reluctant to be the one to hang up, until finally Grissom said that he had to go.
Sara wished that she were with him.
"I love you honey, give your Mom my regards and tell her that I'm looking forward to meeting her."
Without hesitation Grissom replied.
"I will, and I love you too."
Sara stared at the telephone as Grissom hung up. He'd said 'I love you' without any pause.
More and more he reminded her of the Gill she came to know up at the cabin. Maybe she should just try not to worry about his missing memories. It didn't seem to be bothering him so much lately; recently she had noticed that she didn't find him brooding in silence somewhere quiet any more. Perhaps he was coming to terms with it all. Two hundred and fifty-odd miles away and it was the closest she had felt to him all day. She was smiling as she stirred herself to get breakfast. Later, after some much-needed sleep, she would see about getting her bed moved to Grissom's place. She wouldn't need it once she had moved in; it had to be an omen.
If she believed in that sort of thing.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"No."
The tone of voice was polite but firm.
"But - "
Grissom didn't get chance to add any more to his sentence before his mother cut him off.
"No Gil, thank you. I'm going to be fine on crutches, I'll get a walking cast before you know it, and I'll be back on both feet. The last thing you and Sara need is to start off the rest of your lives together with 'Mom' under your roof. I wouldn't like it if I were in that situation. I'll come for a few days to meet Sara, but then I'll be on my way. The girls would never forgive me."
Grissom looked at his mother's implacable face and mentally scrabbled to catch up from the surprise of her refusal to stay with him. Them.
"Girls?"
Mary Grissom looked fondly at her son. Daughters knew that you could cope on your own, sons never figured it out.
"My bridge club. Thursdays every week, without fail. Then there's the swim club on Friday, Tai Chi on Wednesdays, oh, and - "
It was Grissom's turn to interrupt the steady flow of words.
"You can't swim with a cast."
"I know dear, after all, you did get your smart genes from me. The point I'm trying to make is that I have a life of my own. I don't sit home and knit for Goodwill, I'm out living my life to the full. I have friends if I need anything, including help."
Grissom smile was rueful. He didn't actually think that his mother sat home all day - she still had her art connections through the gallery - but he had not thought about what she did on a day to day basis. Obviously a lot more than he thought.
"If you're sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now you go see to your family, and I'll see you in a few days when they let me out of here."
Mary held out her hand to Grissom just as she had when he first came to see her. He took hold of it as before and gave it a squeeze, but this time he also leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek. He didn't know why he did it, he didn't usually; he never used to be that physically affectionate.
Mary was shocked but recovered quickly enough to buss her cheek to his. She couldn't prevent herself from asking in pleased surprise,
"What was that for?"
Grissom wasn't sure himself. He wondered briefly if it was because he was more used to having Sara constantly invading his personal space; maybe as a result he had become more tactile himself.
"It just seemed…right."
Mary just smiled and Grissom smiled in return as he went to leave.
"Gil?"
He turned back in the doorway, his eyebrows raised in enquiry.
"Mmm?"
"I think I'm going to like Sara."
Grissom knew exactly what she meant; it didn't need further explanation.
"I'm sure of it."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"C'mon Gil, let me do something."
Sara's whine fell on deaf ears.
"No, I said you're not to carry anything, and I meant it."
"But it's a small box, not very heavy, I'm not helpless."
Grissom straightened up from the most recent box he had carried in from Sara's car. He was breathing heavily and sweat shone on his face.
"Sara."
Sara pulled a face. It was the Supervisor Grissom voice.
"Grissom."
Grissom was not having any of it. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to Sara or the baby though his own negligence.
"Quit now, while you're ahead. Go make a drink or something."
Sara's chin came up and a glint appeared in her eyes.
"That sounded very patronising, Mr Grissom."
Grissom wiped his sweating forehead with the sleeve of the old shirt he usually wore for decorating. He was grateful that he was only moving Sara's breakable stuff and that the moving company were dealing with the rest that wasn't being stored or sold. He could really do with a cold drink and a disagreement with Sara right now was not on his agenda.
"Okay, Mrs Grissom, look at it from my side. You, six months pregnant with the only baby you are likely to have yourself. Which, by the way, is my child too. It's a hot day, 100 in the shade, and the inside of my mouth feels like the bottom of a birdcage. No, I don't want you carrying anything to risk either of you, and yes, I would love a drink if you are getting yourself one. I'm sorry I sounded patronising, that wasn't my intention."
Sara, mollified, went quickly over to the sink and poured Grissom a tall glass of water. She brought it back and handed it to him, then watched him drink it down almost in one go. He handed her the empty glass.
"Thank you. Now, I'm going to go and get the last couple of boxes from your car."
Sara made no protest this time. Grissom's argument was quite logical, but she felt an unaccustomed helplessness at not being able to assist moving in to his place. She felt bad about it, but she supposed he had a point. She watched him walk away and turn in to the hallway. Jeez, but there was something about the way he walked that made her want to run after him and grab his butt.
She was still standing there, practically salivating, when Grissom returned with the penultimate box. He gave her a curious look.
"You okay?"
Sara looked at him, hard at work and perspiring. She could smell the masculinity from here.
She indicated behind Grissom.
"Mmm. I'll go check that the air con is working in your room…"
"Our room."
"Our room, and if you want to find me when you're done…I'll be the naked horny one on the bed."
Grissom stopped suddenly and looked at Sara's face. She looked back at him innocently.
"Ooh, sorry, did I say that last bit out loud?"
Grissom's lips twitched.
"Witch."
He was still smiling five minutes later when he came back in with the last box, which he placed next to the others. He was grateful to finally be able to stay inside in the cooler air. He looked at his watch and decided that he had time for a quick shower before he went to find his wife.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Catherine looked through the baby catalogue propped against her thighs, trying to decide what gift to get for Sara. Unlike a lot of the women on the night shift, she had a child and knew that what seemed the ideal gift was not always the most useful. She wanted something both useful and something that Sara would like. She flicked another page across.
"Whoa, should I be panicking?"
Catherine looked up at Warrick and smiled with appreciation, both at the joke and what she could see. He had a towel slung low over his hips and an amused smile. He didn't need anything else; she felt her heart skip and race.
"God, I hope not. I'm looking for something for Sara's baby shower. Things sure have changed in fourteen years."
Warrick moved to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Catherine. She looked tousled from sleep, and fresh faced without her make up. She smelled warm and bedable. He glanced at the bedside clock. There was nowhere that they to be for a couple of hours and Lindsey wouldn't be home until after four thirty.
Catherine saw the glance and followed his gaze. Their eyes met again. Warrick's hand snaked out and removed the catalogue, dropping it to the floor with a thud. He slowly leaned down towards Catherine, pulling the quilt aside as he did so.
"You can do that later, after breakfast maybe."
Catherine smirked and shimmied across the bed, making room for Warrick.
"But how much later? I'm starved!"
Warrick prevented any further escape by pressing his body down to Catherine's. Her shimmy had made her nightwear ride up; the only thing between them was the towel.
"Much later honey, because I have an appetite too."
Catherine pretended to be resigned to the loss of breakfast. She sighed theatrically.
"Well, if you insist. But that towel sure feels damp."
Warrick shifted slightly, one hand reaching to his hip to twitch the towel from between them. He lowered himself back down and settled comfortably.
"Better?"
Catherine reached up to rest her hands on his broad shoulders.
"Oh yeah!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Grissom closed his eyes and moved into the stream of hot water, getting his hair and body wet prior to washing. He quickly wiped his face and beard with his hands to clean off the perspiration generated by moving Sara's boxes. He very quickly washed his hair and used the water to rinse all the shampoo out as he scrubbed his fingers through the salt and pepper curls. He moved his head out of the stream and wiped his eyes. Before he had finished he felt a cold draft of air as the shower door was opened, and he felt a hand on his back. He smirked.
"Come to help?"
"You bet."
Sara moved closer to Grissom so that she could close the door behind her. It was a double shower, but with the three of them it was still cramped. Water splashed and bounced off them as Grissom handed Sara the shower gel bottle. He suddenly thought of the time she put that cold gel on him and he braced himself for it again, but when Sara smoothed the first lot on his back it was warm. He relaxed, reaching behind him to touch her, but she moved and admonished him.
"Ah ah, no touching. This is for you, not me…although I will be enjoying it too."
Grissom voiced his protest.
"Hey, that's half my fun!"
But Sara made him put his hands up on the tiled wall in front of him. She washed his back, but didn't rinse off the lather. She moved a small pace forward and pressed her body against his, the soapy residue making her breasts and belly slide sensuously against his back.
"Gahh that's good!"
Sara smiled but didn't say anything. She put more gel on her hands and rubbed them together, creating more lather. Still standing behind him and starting at his shoulders, she washed Grissom's chest and stomach, paying close attention to his hard nipples each time she cupped his chest. Every time she teasingly dragged her hands towards his waist, Grissom's breath caught in his chest. He leaned forward to prevent the water from removing the soapy lather and felt Sara move with him.
"You like that, then?"
Sara's rhetorical question required no answer, but Grissom grunted in approval anyway.
XXXXXXXXXXXX censored missing bit smirk XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"This is just for you, honey, so let it go."
Grissom had no trouble hearing the seductive whisper over the hiss of the shower. Although even then he might have been okay for a few more moments, but Sara's lips and tongue touched his ear and he felt the unmistakable nip of her teeth on his earlobe. He shuddered in delight, unable to stop himself. He was beyond clear speech, but his gasping moans conveyed all that they need to.
Sara kept her eyes open, to savour both the sight and feel of Gil in her hands, his powerful masculinity stirring her own arousal even higher. Every one of her nerves bridled with delight, making her skin tingle with excitement. Spasms of pleasurable anticipation pulsed through her body and she squirmed against Grissom even more firmly.
Grissom gasped and stiffened in Sara's embrace, his fists clenching.
"God, stop now or it'll be too late!"
Sara purred in his ear.
"Then I guess it's too late lover."
Grissom was powerless to prevent the waves of ecstasy that flowed through him from every part of his body. It curled and focused at the base of his spine like liquid lightening. With a throbbing snap he climaxed, crying out his pleasure as Sara held him.
For a long moment there was only the sound of laboured breathing and the noise of the shower. Grissom hung his head, allowing the cooling water to fall down his torso, rinsing off the both of them. He turned the water off. He was both drained and enervated.
"That was…incredible."
Grissom turned around carefully, until he faced a smirking and unrepentant Sara.
"But you should have stopped when - "
His voice was cut off abruptly by the press of Sara's lips on his own. Her tongue slid into his mouth with the ease of long practice and he automatically responded. When she figured he was distracted enough Sara pulled back, desire evident on her face.
"No 'but's' just 'butts', so get yours in the bedroom, where you can show me just how grateful you are with your clever hands, fingers and mouth."
Grissom smiled involuntarily, still feeling the tingling shocks throughout his body.
"That's not the same."
"You turn me on, you make me come and in a variety of ways. Penetration isn't everything, but if you're that concerned I'll let you borrow my rabbit."
Grissom was torn; part of him was amused and humbled that Sara did not in any way perceive his climax as a premature end to their tryst this evening. But part of him felt that he ought to be outraged at the suggestion that he would need the rabbit.
Amusement won the day.
"Thank you, I am gratified that it will be close at hand should we need it. However, I think we should dry off, then continue where we left off in the comfort of the bedroom."
Sara leaned in and gave Grissom a quick kiss, the seal of a promise.
"Sounds like a plan to me."
They dried each other, a simple and uncomplicated task made enjoyable by the fact that they were each giving the other a treat. It wouldn't perhaps have appeared sexy to an outsider, but the subtext was obvious; they loved touching and being touched by the one they loved.
When Sara reached for her moisturising body crème, Grissom deftly snatched it out from under her fingers. She looked at him in puzzlement as he held out his free hand. He didn't say anything, but continued to hold out his hand. After a moment, she gave him her hand.
She got to her feet with his assistance and he gently tugged her behind him out into the bedroom. He guided her to the bed and made sure that she was comfortable, laying her down in the middle of the big bed.
Sara watched as Grissom – just as naked as she – seated himself beside her on the bed. He unscrewed the jar of crème and took some of the lilac-coloured contents on to his fingers, warming it in his palms. He leaned over Sara and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. He began to gently rub the crème in. With his next handful he worked his way down Sara's left arm, then her right, massaging in the crème with warm firm hands. Sara started out smiling at Grissom with approval, but soon she was lost in his sensual assault. He drove her almost mad with his teasing avoidance of key areas of her body; her breasts in particular craved his touch, to no avail. When he abandoned her upper torso after he had finished the 'bump' and started on her feet, Sara wondered whether or not this was payback for the shower, but by the time he got to her thighs she didn't care. She could have wept when he stopped just short of paradise, but her consolation was that Grissom lay back down beside her, leaning in for a kiss that would have knocked her shoes off, had she been wearing any.
Eventually they came up for air, and Sara's dazed expression warmed Grissom heart. She found her voice after a struggle.
"Just tell me one thing Gill; why'd you stop just short -?"
"Because your crème isn't edible, and I wouldn't be able to do this."
So saying Grissom dipped his head and closed his lips over the tip of Sara's breast. The heat of his mouth shocked Sara to her core and she cried out with pleasure as he teased her with his tongue.
"Or this."
Grissom swapped to the other breast and his own arousal stirred anew as he fanned the flames higher in Sara, making her thrash her head from side to side, and her hands clutch at the bedding. One of her flailing hands found his thigh and rapidly sought out the evidence of his desire. She opened her eyes in delight and smirked as she stroked him.
"Gee, what's up, Doc?"
Grissom got the reference immediately despite the distraction of her hold on him. He leaned down next to Sara's ear and whispered.
"I guess we're not hunting wabbit's today."
Sara laughed with appreciation, and as Grissom's face descended towards hers, she replied with a smile,
"No, I guess not."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Just how much closet space does one woman need?
Grissom drove in to work with this thorny question on his mind. Dividing personal space was a whole new game for him and he hadn't been handed the rulebook. It both charmed and alarmed him that Sara's belongings seemed to be all over the place. He loved that her toothbrush was next to his and her toiletries made the bathroom smell just like her. They had no problems with the toilet seat because he thought it looked tidier when down too. But when he opened his closet this evening and discovered his pants were shoved to one end and all his T's were missing, he knew that he had some way to go before he would be comfortable in his own home again. Fortunately for his sanity Sara had emerged from the bathroom in time to tell him that his T-shirts were now all folded and in the second drawer of the dresser. He had opened his mouth to ask where the original contents of the second drawer were, when he found his own answer after opening the top drawer. His underwear and Sara's were sharing. It was curiously intimate to see his boxers and Sara's collection of bras and panties side by side. He shut the drawer quickly feeling as if he were peeping where he should not. Then he felt silly. Grissom opened the drawer again and smirked as he looked at the colourful collection of lace and silks. He reached in to the drawer.
"What are you doing?"
Grissom turned and looked at Sara. The drawer slid shut.
"Just getting some underwear."
Sara had just returned from the main room and was ready for work. To his relief she just crossed the room and gave him a farewell kiss.
"Okay, see you later at work."
Grissom thought how lovely she looked. She suited being pregnant, she really did glow.
"Play nice with the other kids."
Sara gestured without looking back and Grissom grinned.
"Hey, next time you wave at me, use all your fingers."
Grissom smiled in reminiscence as he pulled into the parking lot at work. He could see Sara's car a couple of rows over and made a conscious effort not to park next to her. He found it tiring to have to remember to keep up the appearance of not being part of a couple with her. So often during a shift he had to remind himself not to enter Sara's personal space or make an overly familiar gesture or comment. He wanted to say 'Ecklie and Cavallo be damned' and have done with it, but this was the way Sara wanted it played, and had agreed to it, for now.
But it didn't mean that he liked it.
It was a curiously quiet night at work and it left most of the criminalists wondering when the 'other' boot was going to fall. It did give everyone time to finish up paperwork, top up supplies, tidy round the departments, and catch up on their journal reading.
It was during the early hours of the morning that Grissom found himself looking for Warrick, just to double check part of a report he had completed. It wasn't important enough to call his beeper and because things were so quiet Grissom decided to go and look for him. To be truthful Warrick's report was an excuse to leave his office. Grissom's first port of call was the breakroom, but to his utter lack of surprise neither Catherine nor Warrick were present. Sara looked up automatically, her body radar on alert as usual. Grissom started to smile before he had even thought about it, but Sara's face had her usual 'polite colleague' expression firmly in place. He rapidly employed his famous 'stone face'.
"Where's Warrick?"
Nick looked up from his journal, his forehead creasing with concentration.
"Haven't seen him for a while. Have you been to Trace? He was there about an hour ago."
Grissom tapped the report folder against his leg as he frowned in thought. He wasn't in any hurry, it could wait.
"Never mind. If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him."
"Sure."
Nick ostensibly returned to the article he was reading and Grissom left the room. The Texan had managed a slow count to sixty-seven before he saw Sara get up and leave the room. He shook his head. Who did they think they were foolin'?
Contrary to Nick's suspicions, Sara was actually off to the Ladies washroom again. Seemed to her like she was always in there these days. As she washed her hands a few minutes later she glanced in the mirror. She realised that she had just about stretched her black T-shirt and her Lycra easifit pants as far as they would go. After a quick glance at the stalls behind her to establish that she was alone, she turned sideways to look at her profile in the mirror. So that was what twenty-six weeks looked like from the outside. She ran her hand over the bump and felt it shift under her fingers as the baby moved. Awesome. And then some.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Near the end of the shift Grissom gratefully signed off Warrick's report and added it to the pile to be sent further up the chain. Warrick had sorted out the minor misunderstanding, enabling Grissom to finish early for once.
Grissom leaned back in his chair and stretched. His eyes closed as he turned his head left and right to ease the resistance in his neck, then gave it a rub for good measure.
"Stiff?"
Grissom's eyes opened. The provocatively drawled word was loaded with innuendo. His lips tweaked up at one side in appreciation.
"Only my neck, sadly."
Sara drew closer to the desk, but before she could say anything else she heard Greg's voice behind her.
"Hey, Gris – oh, hi Sara."
Sara nodded pleasantly, her work persona instantly back in place. Greg looked back to Grissom and gave him a couple of sheets of paper.
"The DNA for the Bridgeman case came back – not a match. We're back to square one."
Although he had already begun to read, Grissom's head came up from the report at the somewhat defeated tone of Greg's voice.
"No, we are not. If this is the man that we suspect of the car lot rapes, this is the first time we have managed to collect any DNA. Just because he hasn't got a record doesn't mean we can't find him. And when we do, we'll have something to compare him to. That's progress."
Greg nodded, looking happier now than when he came in. He nodded again to Sara as he left the office.
Grissom looked at Sara, who had transformed from work colleague back to sexy wife in the blink of an eye. He looked at her with admiration.
"How can you do that?"
"Compartmentalisation. Work in this bit, the rest in this bit. Simple."
Grissom watched Sara's hands as she demonstrated her idea. It seemed anything but simple to him.
"But how?"
Sara dropped her hands. She sighed gently.
"You were running from your feelings, whereas I was just hiding mine. I was dealing, you weren't."
Grissom looked thoughtful for a long moment, examining the concept at its face value. He realised that she was right; she had known how she felt and became adept at hiding her true feelings – most of the time – whereas he had just buried them deep to avoid learning how to cope with them.
"Ostrich principle."
"We all do it at some time or another. It took an explosion to get my head out of the sand."
Grissom got up and walked around his desk. Sara watched him the whole time, a soft smile on her lips. He leaned back on his desk, resting his hands on the edge to prevent himself from touching Sara. There were too many damned glass walls in this department for his liking at this moment.
"And I nearly made you shove it back in again. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you, especially for all the times I didn't realise that I'd hurt you."
Sara shrugged.
"You couldn't help the amnesia, it's not like you did it deliberately. Who knows, maybe one day you'll get your memories back and you'll find out we're not married after all. Maybe it's a lie. You ever think of that?"
Grissom felt as guilty as sin for not telling Sara the truth about his recovered memory, but his response was fast and honest.
"No, not even close. You wouldn't lie about something that important."
Sara looked at him with an odd expression.
"I like to think that I wouldn't lie about anything."
Grissom looked at her, one eyebrow canted upwards.
"No? Surely we're both living a lie at the moment?"
Sara shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah, well, that's different."
Grissom stood up and indicated that Sara should precede him to the door of his office.
"I'm just not comfortable with this."
Sara stopped in the corridor, waiting for Grissom to lock his office. He turned towards the exit, pocketing the keys, and Sara followed, speaking softly.
"I'm not happy about it either. But if I tell them now, they're going to take advantage of my maternity leave and let me go. They're not going to want to lose an entomologist of your calibre."
"You know that they can't do that to you. It's against the law."
"Yeah, but by the time we've fought it through the courts and won, no-one will touch me, I'll never get another job in this field, and they know that."
During the course of the conversation Sara and Grissom had left the main building and were half way to Sara's car. They completed the walk in silence, each deep in thought. When Grissom got to Sara's car he held the door while she got in the vehicle. He leaned over slightly.
"We'll figure something out, try not to worry and I'll see you at home."
Sara looked up at him, shading her eyes from the bright morning sun.
"Gil, just don't do anything without letting me know first, okay? You promised me once that there would be no more secrets."
Grissom looked at Sara's upturned face. He hated disappointing her.
"Yes, I remember."
He straightened up from the car as Sara started the engine.
"See you back at the house."
" 'Kay, don't be long. Don't forget we have an OB GYN appointment today."
Grissom nodded, then watched the car pull away before reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a crumpled envelope. It was his 'insurance', typed out the day that Cavallo had emailed him with a summons to his office for a 'discussion'. It would need a fresh envelope, and he would have to alter the date of the letter, but the gist of it would remain the same. He hoped that he wouldn't need to use it, but it was best to be prepared.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sara was preparing a warm chicken Caesar salad in the kitchen when she heard the sound of a key in the front door. Sara looked at her watch, surprised that Grissom was home already. They had been taking it in irregular turns to work late, so that it didn't look as if they were always leaving together. Either way, she was pleased that he was home early, so she dried her hands and hurried across the room, already in full flood.
"Hey, honey, if I'd known you were gonna be this early I'd have left brunch and got naked! My hormones are raging and you are sooo hot, you're just begging to be fu - "
Sara broke off in horrified embarrassment. There was a Grissom standing in front of her, but it wasn't the one that she had married.
It was his mother.
Blushing furiously, Sara wanted to vanish into a hole in the ground. But even as she was dying a thousand deaths, her brain was putting two and two together. Grissom's mother, complete with crutches and a case. And a plastered ankle. For a fleeting moment Sara wished that she were plastered – with alcohol. Suddenly and thankfully she realised that she might have been very lucky. Maybe Grissom's mom hadn't been looking up to lip-read anything that Sara said.
Mary Grissom had not expected anyone to be home or she would never have used the spare key that her son had given her. She expected that she looked just as surprised as this young woman did, though probably not for the same reason.
"I'm so sorry to have shocked you, I used the key. I hope you don't mind, but I had no idea there was anyone in. I was hoping to save Gil the extra drive out to collect me, so I had a friend of mine drop me here on his way to visit his daughter. You must be Sara. How nice to finally meet you."
Sara was still reeling in shock, hoping to heaven that she had not been 'read'. Half of Mary's explanation went right past her.
"No. Yes. I mean, no, it's okay about the key, and yes, it's nice to meet you too, Mrs Grissom."
Sara relieved Grissom's mother of her case and stood back to welcome her into the house.
Mary Grissom hobbled forward awkwardly and placed her right crutch in her left hand so that she could pat Sara on the arm.
"Call me Mary, we can't be 'Mrs Grissom-ing' all day, far too tiring."
Sara laughed, partly with relief. The Gods had been kind.
"Okay, thanks. Would you like something cold to drink? It's very hot out today."
Mary made her way past Sara, moving toward the brown leather couch. She sat down with heavy gratitude, placing the crutches on the floor beside her. When she looked up at her without answering, Sara realised that Mary hadn't heard her. The older woman was so good at lip reading that Sara had momentarily forgotten. She repeated her question to Mary's face.
"Oh, yes please, a cold drink would be lovely."
While Sara poured out some fresh lemonade Mary looked around her son's house with interest. It had been quite a while since she had been here, but she could see the changes that had come with her new daughter in law. She liked the feminine touch.
When Sara gave Mary her drink, the latter nodded to the rest of the room.
"It's amazing the difference a few subtle changes make to the place. It doesn't look quite so…"
Mary paused, looking for a tactful word. Sara smiled.
"So male? Stark? Not so much a home, more of a house?"
Mary smiled back, nodding.
"Yes. This day and age young women seem so insulted when you refer to 'a woman's touch' but that's what it needed. It feels complete, more of a home."
Sara shifted to get comfortable on her chair, having opted for one of the dining chairs so that she would be able to stand up with a measure of grace.
"Good. That's what we were aiming for."
The conversation looked like it would flounder for a moment, but Mary stepped in.
"When Gil told me about you and the baby, I was concerned because it was such a surprise, I hadn't heard anything about the two of you…"
Sara felt uncomfortable and took in a breath to reassure Grissom's mother that she had nothing to worry about, but the older woman wasn't finished.
"…but the expression on his face when he described the wedding and told me about the dress and the wedding bands, well, it was nothing short of wonderful. He looked so much happier than the last time I saw him."
Sara looked at Mary in surprise, her shock robbing her of the power of speech. The older woman was in full flow and didn't notice her lack of response. One thought was uppermost in Sara's mind.
How did Grissom know the details of the wedding?
TBC.