A/N Thanks for all the feedback, it's always appreciated!
Chapter 310 p.m. Grissom's Townhouse
Sara stirred and opened her eyes to discover that she had no idea where she was. The room was filled with dim light, glowing from a small lamp located on top of a dresser. It was a decidedly masculine room, devoted to function rather than comfort. The queen-sized bed she was lying on was covered with a simple dark blue spread, no ruffled pillows or flowers in evidence. Such frivolous touches wouldn't survive in this environment. Instead of curtains adorning the windows, there were simply blinds.
In contrast to her bedroom, the occupant of this room stowed his clothes neatly in the closet or drawers. There were several oak bookcases overflowing with books, journals, and other items such as pictures and plaques. She leaned over to glance at a book that was on the nightstand by the bed, a leather-bound volume titled, "Poetry, the Romantic Period".
Although the room was obviously well used, it was oddly neat. Everything seemed to have its place. In a strange way, it reminded her of Grissom's office.
Grissom.
In a flash, she knew where she was, although she was surprised that he'd actually brought her to his home. Even though they'd been getting along better, she still had trouble reading his signals. She'd been relieved and somehow "lightened" that they'd been able to air some of their grievances, but she was still uncertain as to just what their relationship really was. She realized Grissom had been reaching out to her, and she was grateful for that, really, although a small voice warned her not to count on this friendliness too much, especially when it might well be fleeting in nature and soon disappear again. It hurt because she still felt as if his uncertainty regarding their relationship was spilling over into doubt about her professional abilities, especially when it came to this case.
So, in their wisdom, or lack thereof, they'd sidestepped those issues. Last week, she'd regretfully cancelled their breakfast 'date' since she was so focused on the case; she'd doubted her ability to meaningfully discuss much else. She didn't want to stir up all that controversy with him.
The case! What time was it?
A digital clock on the nightstand read ten o'clock. Why had Grissom let her sleep so long? She had to get back to the lab. They had a deadline -- little more than twenty-four hours left before Manny most likely skipped town or possibly the country. Doc Robbins must have some postmortem results by now and if there was still nothing definitive she was more than willing to deal with the devil himself to get sufficient evidence to lock that foul creature away.
Grissom always says that the evidence doesn't lie. However, the current lack of it didn't make Sara doubt her instincts, she knew in her heart that Manny was guilty. She had her own plethora of evidence, the way Manny leered at her, snickered at her expense, and went out of his way to make her uncomfortable. The way he pretended to accidentally bump into her breasts, and brush his hands against her bottom as she passed him. It bothered her immensely. Just being in a room with him for a few minutes could make her skin crawl. She'd even had nightmares about Manny, though she hadn't confessed this to a soul. She knew this was part of her job, helping to put these deviants behind bars so that others would be safer.
Smoothing out her rumpled clothing, she laughed to herself. She hadn't been able to clean up after the desert excavation; poor Grissom was going to have a bed filled with sand. If she could just find her shoes, she rummaged around by the floor of the bed but had no luck. Maybe she'd have better luck finding a comb in the bathroom.
After successfully locating a comb on the vanity top, and taming her hair, she ventured into the living room. Her breath caught for a moment when she saw him. Grissom was stretched back on the couch, head bent over a book that was open on his lap, with his legs propped on the coffee table. Sara giggled as his glasses, which were precariously perched on edge of his nose, slipped off into his lap. He was fast asleep. She carefully reached over to rescue his glasses, closing the earpieces neatly and placing them on the coffee table.
Despite herself, she paused and leaned closer to him. Since she'd always found him sexually attractive, it was tantalizing to be so close to him. It was tempting to touch him, but she had no intention of doing that to herself. She just watched him breathe, the slow rise and fall of his chest. She examined the line of his jaw framed by his beard, the slight wrinkles about his eyes. She relished the scent and the sight of him. If only their relationship was just about sex, her life could've been so much simpler.
Perhaps she should've made a bolder move towards him, years earlier when they first met, when they were younger. At least they could've had one night of passion. Yet she knew in her heart that most likely wouldn't have happened. If Grissom reacted so badly to being asked out, imagine what a full-scale kiss would've done to him. It also would've destroyed whatever potential their relationship had, not to mention her self-respect. She sighed, mourning just for a moment for what might have been.
Rather than dwelling on things she couldn't change, Sara organized her thoughts. She'd start coffee, forage in the kitchen for something to eat, and then check in with the lab. Hopefully by that time Grissom would wake up and they could return to work.
She opened the door to the refrigerator, pleasantly surprised by the assortment of real food available. Balancing a yogurt, a spoon, and an apple, she made her way over to the table. Grissom's phone rang, startling her, causing her to drop everything. As she knelt to retrieve her food, Grissom stirred groggily and snatched the phone.
"Grissom," he muttered.
After a brief pause, he replied, "No, it's okay. What do we have?" He revived quickly as he listened intently. He frowned as he asked, "That's all?" He thought for a moment, "I assume you're trying dental records?" Another pause, "Okay, I'll be there soon." He closed the phone .
"Dammit."
Sara was growing more and more concerned. She ditched her snack and headed over to Grissom. "What's going on?"
"Our lovely friend, decomposition. While you can retrieve actual organs and hard-core information from embalmed bodies that are several years old, our bug friends really do a number on dead bodies. Just like nature designed them to," he sighed.
"No DNA evidence?"
"None."
That meant they couldn't identify the victims or any DNA that might've been contributed by Manny. Sara found herself about ready to sob from frustration. She sank into a chair, trying to mask her disappointment, putting her hands up to her face. As she took some deep breaths she thought that there just had to be another way, and sternly commanded herself to think.
Grissom mentioned, "I read about a new technique that can be used to analyze partially degraded DNA samples. Though, given the condition of our samples, the odds aren't in our favor, and it would take time for Greg to test out the assay and obtain results."
Sara seemed hopeful, yet she reminded him, "It's too late. Manny will be gone before we can get those results. However, we can ID the women using other means -- jewelry or personal items. Metal doesn't decay as quickly as biological material. Any distinctive jewelry, such as a wedding ring with an inscription could serve as a good lead. Unusual fractures or dental work could be useful too. There's got to be a way for us to make the link," she insisted. It might be a shaky connection, but it could buy them some time.
"Nick and Warrick are working on it now. But I don't know if it's going to be enough to convince a judge," Grissom softly admitted. He didn't need to point out to her that some of these methods would be useless; Sara had seen the poor condition of the first body. It seemed as if they were fighting a losing battle.
However, he wasn't ready to give up yet, or consider the dreadful alternative. So Grissom bravely suggested, "Why don't you freshen up? Take a shower. I'll make us some sandwiches, we'll drop by your place so you can change into clean clothes and then we'll head back to the lab." Seeing her bemused expression, he added in a lighter tone, "I promise I won't peek."
"No, we've got to get back to work, now," Sara protested, fully aware how little time remained to make their case.
Grissom ignored her, leaving to rummage through his linen closet for clean towels.
In the end, she agreed. Although her nap had refreshed her, her energy reserves were still low and her temples were throbbing. A shower and some food might help her revitalize her energy and enable her to think more clearly. She especially needed to be alert if they decided to take Manny up on his offer. They were running out of time.
TBC