DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI, its characters, scripts, stories, actors, yadda yadda yadda. This is my own fan fiction story for entertainment only.
I Choose You
The night of Friday the thirteenth was proving to be a busy one for the Las Vegas crime lab. Just since noon, there had been three homicides and the discovery of two dead bodies in an abandoned warehouse on the south side of the city. Because of it all, the crime lab was extremely busy, and the staff members were all but running over each other as they went from one place to another. This was not a good time to be dealing with personal issues and the last thing Gill Grissom needed was the phone call he'd just taken.
Now, he sat staring at the phone, wondering what in the world was going to happen next. He'd been rather surprised to hear Heather's voice on the other end of the phone. He'd not seen her since the final time he'd visited her at home. They had almost had a relationship, but with Heather's love for fetish, Gill felt that they were too opposite for each other. Straightforward and by the book, Gill's work ethic even extended into the bedroom. When they'd parted ways, Heather had mentioned that maybe he ought to broaden his mind a little bit. Being a scientist, Gil always considered himself open-minded, but sexual experimentation was not his cup of tea.
Now, he sat staring at the phone, wondering at the irony of her call to report a death in her home; today of all days! His expression was still thoughtful when Sara knocked at his door. Gill looked up, his expression softening instantly at the sight of the pretty young criminal investigator.
"Sara!" he greeted, "what can I do for you?" He stood, motioning to a chair in front of his desk.
Sara smiled timidly, and glided across the room, where she sat perched on the edge.
"Gill," she began, "I want to be pulled off the Tripp case," she said, pushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
"Why?" Gill asked, frowning; "did something happen?" He watched Sara carefully, but she ducked her head and he couldn't read her face.
"I told you about my parents," she began, and flicked her eyes toward him before looking away.
"Doug Tripp was shot and killed by his wife; just like my mom." She looked up at Gill, tears brimming in her eyes.
"I can't do it, Gill. I can't investigate this because it's too close to home."
A tear escaped, and Sara brushed it away angrily. Gill stood and walked slowly over to Sara, where he squatted down beside her. Gently, he placed a hand over hers.
"Sara, you can't let that stop you from doing your job." She looked up at him, but he held up his hand.
"I'm not trying to be a hard-ass. But you're a good agent; I need you on this case because you've dealt with it before. I need you to talk to the kids."
Sara looked at him before looking down at her hands, still covered by his. His touch was warm, and she had to admit it brought her comfort. After a moment, she looked back into his face, still concerned, and watching her intently.
"If you think it will be beneficial to the case for me to be on it, I will;" she said, and smiled a small smile.
"That's my girl," Gill said, and stood. "If you need anything," he added, "let me know.
Sara stood, and Gill wrapped his arm around her in a quick, brief, brotherly hug before grabbing his field kit.
"Come with me on this one;" he said, "get out of the lab for a little bit."
Heather was waiting in her living room when Gill, Jim Brass, and Sara arrived at her home. Gill was immediately suspicious of the tall, dark haired dominatrix. Just like the last case, when one of her clients had turned up dead, Heather appeared calm and collected. She gave Gill an inviting smile, and for some reason, it irritated Sara.
"This way," Heather said, leading the agents down a long hall toward the bedroom.
A male client of about forty lay prone on the floor, a collar around his neck, and handcuffs about his wrists.
"What the hell?" Brass asked, and Heather smiled her seductive smile.
"He wanted to be hog-tied," she explained; "when I left the room for a moment he was fine; I got back and he's having some sort of seizure." She said, and shrugged.
"I called emergency services, but he died while I was letting the medics in."
"So, you were conveniently out of the room when he died," Sara said sarcastically, and Heather nodded.
"Yes," she said, and watched Gill bend down to check on the man.
"I can't say what happened without an autopsy," he said, "but you're going to have to answer some questions," Gill finished.
Lady Heatherly raised an eyebrow, her lips curled in an inviting, seductive smile.
"Are you suggesting I did it?" She asked, and Sara broke in.
"You were the only one with him, right?" she asked, and Heather nodded.
"He asked for me personally every week," she said, and Sara smirked.
"Well, you're being asked for again now." She said, and asked, "Is there somewhere we can talk?"
The house was immense, and Sara had to admit it was very tastefully decorated. But she didn't care about that. She was determined to interview this woman, and hopefully find out exactly what happened. Heather draped herself over a cream-coloured sofa, and stared at Sara for a moment.
"What do you want to know?" She asked, and Sara pulled out a pen and note-pad.
"Explain the seizure," she said, and wrote down everything the dominatrix told her.
She was in the middle of asking Heather about the activity the client was engaged in at the time his seizure hit, when Gil stepped in.
"We found an epilepsy alert medallion with the man's belongings; I don't believe this is a homicide any more." He smiled at Heather.
"The paramedics are taking him to the morgue; you can have your bedroom back now." Heather nodded, glancing at Sara before speaking.
"Why don't you stay around, Mr. Grissom?" she invited, seeing Sara's shocked expression out of the corner of her eye.
"I'm afraid I can't do that Heather," Gill said, and motioned for Sara to stand.
"We've got cases waiting at the lab." He added, and ushered Sara out the door.
He turned, missing the expression of anger and jealousy that passed across Heather's features. She hadn't missed the look of affection that Gill had given Sara, and she wondered if he were in fact seeing the girl. Suddenly, she rushed down the hall after them.
"Mr. Grissom," she called, her stilettos tapping on the black marble floor, "I forgot something."
Gill and Sara turned just as Heather floated to a stop in front of them. She was smiling, and Sara knotted her brows in confusion, wondering what the woman had 'forgotten'. She didn't have to wonder long as Heather grabbed Gill's face in both hands and placed a smoldering kiss on his mouth.
"Excuse me," Sara began, and saw Gill's hands come up to grasp Heather by the upper arms.
For a moment, jealously bubbled to the surface when Sara thought Gill was returning the embrace. She nearly laughed in relief when he pushed Heather away, breaking contact.
"I told you once," Gill said with an icy voice, "it's over; it never was started to begin with." He glanced at Sara.
"I need someone who needs me for me; not just as a project," he said, and grasped Sara's elbow.
"If you'll excuse me," he said, propelling Sara toward the door, and leaving a stunned dominatrix behind.
Sara was quiet on the drive back to the lab. She still couldn't believe what had happened back at Heather's place; she knew that Gill and Heather had seen each other a few times, but he'd broken off the relationship early. Gill was watching her out of the corner of his eye as he drove. The incident with Heather had both amused and angered him. Amused him because she'd been so bold and self-assured, yet completely speechless when he rebuffed her. Angry, because she'd had the brevity to kiss him as though she possessed him. Pulling into the lab's parking lot, Gill was still mulling the situation over when Sara got out of the Denali, slammed the door, and walked toward the building. Quickly, Gill got out and caught up with her.
"Sara," he said, touching her elbow.
Sara turned, her face twisted in anger and hurt. She pulled her arm away, rubbing her elbow as if his touch had soiled her.
"What do you want?" She asked, and Gill stepped back, surprised.
"I wanted to say that what happened back there-" he trailed off, seeing the tears well in Sara's eyes.
"My god, Sara," he whispered, "what's wrong?"
For the second time that night, Sara was brushing tears from her cheeks. She hated herself for crying; especially in front of Gill. But being reminded that Gill had once dated Lady Heatherly had left her feeling worthless. She looked away, trying to control her emotion.
"All this time, Gill, I've been trying to get you to see me as someone other than a CSI." She sniffed, and looked into his confused face.
"You have a woman practically begging to have sex with you, and you tell her that you don't want that type of relationship?" She crossed her arms and looked up at the starry night sky.
"Sara, I don't understand-" She cut him off with her reply.
"You said you wanted someone who understood you for you; would take you as you are in other words. Can't you see that I'm that person?" She asked, and gave a strangled laugh.
"I understand you; I love you for who you are and not what you can do in the bedroom. Can't you see that?" She was crying now, and not caring that it was in front of Gill.
Gill watched her for a moment, and then slowly set his field kit on the ground at his feet. Carefully, he moved toward Sara, gently placed his hands on her shoulders, and touched her wet cheek with his lips.
"Sara," he whispered against her skin, "I've never doubted you'd take me as I am. But, I had to hear you say it."
Suddenly, Sara wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder.
"I want to be yours, Griss," she whispered, "I just want to belong to you."
Her heart jumped inside her chest when Gill wrapped her up in a strong, warm embrace. His hands were firm and comforting as he rubbed her back, and he kissed her again on the top of her head.
"I don't think that will be a problem," he said, a smile on his lips, "because I want to belong to you."