Author's Notes: Yay! I'm so glad y'all seem to be enjoying my story! I hope that doesn't change. Thank you, thank you, thank you;)
The Invisible Man
by Kristen Elizabeth
The future has a way of arriving unannounced. – George Will
For Sara Sidle, the joy of being pregnant had worn off.
No longer did she marvel at waking in the middle of the night because her baby was kicking; now she just counted the minutes until the internal soccer game ceased. The sudden increase in her bust line wasn't fun anymore; now they just hurt all the time. She was fat and far too gassy for her own liking. Her back and feet never stopped aching, not that she seen her feet in weeks. No matter how much she slept, she never got enough rest and sometimes she wasn't sure how she was going to make it through a month until her due date.
But at least she was still able to work. She was limited in what she could do, but it was better than sitting in her apartment with only her negative thoughts to keep her company until the baby arrived.
She was waiting in the break room for assignments, flipping through a copy of Parenting magazine when Grissom entered. "Sara. Great, you're here."
Since the shower, things hadn't been exactly strained, but her request that he be the baby's godfather had definitely altered something between them. And she couldn't decide it if it was for better or worse.
"What's going on?" For the first time, she looked around at the empty room. "Where is everyone?"
"Greg's got the flu and Nick's stuck in Dallas. Massive thunderstorm grounded all departing flights." He adjusted his glasses, a sure sign that he was stressed out. "Catherine and Warrick are already out on a double homicide, but we've got another that just rolled in. Apparently every nut job in this city came out tonight."
"Well, it is a full moon."
Grissom nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah. Sara…"
"Would I like to go with you to the scene?" She tossed aside her magazine. "Why thank you for asking, Grissom. I'd love to!"
His expression was a mixture of amusement and concern. "If you did come, you would only be there to photo-document. Maybe to take my notes. This is your last week before maternity leave and you're supposed to be doing nothing more stressful than paperwork."
She rolled her eyes while he spoke. "I'm aware, Doctor. I promise to be good." Sara held out her hands. "Help me up?"
Her belly stretched across the space between them. They stood face to face for a long moment, fingers entwined. She was afraid to move; it had been so long since he'd touched her. In fact, it seemed like he'd avoided doing just that ever since the night she'd first felt the baby move, and tried to let him feel it too. But now their hands were laced together and if she had the guts, she could very easily lean forward and kiss him.
One of the worst things about being pregnant was sudden and never predictable urge to use the bathroom. Sara groaned inwardly and slipped her hands out of his grasp. The loss of contact surprised him as much as it pained her. "Meet you at the car," she told him.
It was in the ladies room, just as she was drying her hands, that Sara started feeling a strange cramping sensation in her lower back. She wrote it off as another "joy" of impending motherhood and headed out to meet Grissom.
"Did you get all of that?"
Sara finished scribbling on the clipboard that rested on her stomach. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."
"Right. Shorthand." Grissom smiled in apology. "Let's keep going."
It was as she followed him into the master bedroom where the second victim lay in a pool of blood that the strange ache returned. It wasn't anything heavier than what she always felt on the first day of her period, but it was enough for her to take notice.
"Sara?" Grissom had stopped and was looking back at her. "I know you'd rather be collecting, but don't space out me just yet."
She plastered a smile on her face. "Sorry. I'll try to be grateful that I'm not stuck in the lab."
The body lay face down at the foot of the bed. Grissom approached the man and knelt down, carefully avoiding the crimson puddle around his head. "Single shot to the base of the skull. Execution style. My guess…he was the primary target."
As she wrote it all down, Sara discreetly arched her back a bit, trying to relieve the annoying ache. "The wife in the hallway was just collateral damage?"
"Shot in the back trying to escape." Grissom shook his head. "Wrong place, wrong time."
"There's never a good time to witness a hit." The ache was becoming a pain. Literally
"True," he mused. Something in the blood pool caught his eye. "And when you're bending down to make sure your target is dead, it's definitely not a good time to shed a hair." With the tweezers in his vest, he plucked a single strand from the congealed surface. He grinned. "Skin tag, too. Our lucky day."
"That'll help." Sara inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, willing the ache away. "I'll bag it."
"It's all right. I've got it." When he was done, Grissom looked back at her. "Feel like taking some pictures?"
The pain was fading. Mind over matter. She tucked her clipboard under her arm and lifted the camera that hung around her neck. "You'll have to say 'cheese' for him."
They finished walking the perimeter two hours later. There had only been three other episodes of the pain resurfacing. But they were coming closer together. Sara wasn't so far into denial that she didn't realize what it all meant.
But it was too early. It wasn't supposed to happen for another month.
While Grissom was busy stowing his kit and the collected evidence in the back of the Denali, Sara leaned against the hood, breathing heavily. "Don't do this, baby," she whispered to her stomach. "You're not done yet."
She heard the back doors slam shut and managed to compose herself just as Grissom came around to her side of the car. "Ready to go?"
Sara nodded a little too vigorously. Grissom opened the passenger door for her and offered her his hand to help her up into her seat. It was probably hormones, but the gesture was so sweet that she felt hot tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. Or maybe it was just fear.
In the few seconds it took him to walk around to the driver's side, another contraction began.
Taking his eyes off the dark road, Grissom glanced over at Sara. She'd been unusually quiet ever since they'd left the scene. She hadn't even complained when he'd chosen talk radio over music. Usually he just gave in and suffered through the Top 40.
"So what's your opinion on the government phone-tapping without sufficient warrants?" Grissom asked her.
Sara's eyes were closed; her head rested against the cool glass of the window. "I didn't vote for the guy behind it. But I'm not above a good 'I told you so' to the people who did." The last word was followed by a sharp intake of breath.
"Sara?" His stare alternated rapidly between the road and her. "What's wrong?"
She had one hand pressed tightly against her belly. "I don't want to be bother, but I think I'm in labor."
It was a good thing he had decent reflexes or he might have put the Denali into a ditch. Grissom gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "But…isn't it too early?"
Sara glared at him. "You think?"
"We have to get you to the hospital!"
"Again…" Her muscles tightened as the pain grew. "Desert Palm's the…closest."
Grissom was already making the necessary U-turn.
"Why aren't you doing the breathing"
Sara chest rose and fell. "What…the hell do you…call this?"
Grissom's hand trembled as he adjusted his glasses. They were ten minutes from the hospital, and Sara seemed to be getting more stressed by the minute.
"The Lamaze," he said. "Two short breaths, followed by long one. You should be doing it. It helps calm you."
"How do you…know that?"
He cleared his throat. "Catherine?"
"Nice try." Sara's forehead was beaded with perspiration. "Catherine told me…she said to hell with Lamaze and went…with the natural method of…screaming and cursing."
"That does sound like her." Grissom sighed. "All right. I might have sat in on a class."
"You…went to a Lamaze class?"
It was his turn to give her a look. "Greg told me it was a great place to meet women."
"That would be really funny if this didn't hurt so fucking much."
"I just wanted to know what you were going through." Turning onto the street that led to the hospital, he added, "Remember, you admire my thirst for knowledge. So…" Grissom demonstrated the breathing technique. "Hee, hee, hoo. Hee, hee, hoo."
Sara chimed in reluctantly. She was even more reluctant to admit that within mere moments, she felt calmer. But was it the Lamaze? Or was it the presence of the only man in her life who would put himself through a class in it, just to better understand her?
The next contraction wiped away everything else. "Grissom…step on it. Please."
As he screeched into the emergency bay of Desert Palm's ER a little after two a.m., one thought kept running through his mind. He never should have done this. He should have taken the case by himself and kept her safe in the lab. If he hadn't been so selfish as to want her company, the trauma of the scene wouldn't have sent her into premature labor.
This was entirely his fault.
Leaving the keys in the ignition, Grissom threw open the door, ran around to Sara's side, and yelled at the nurses, all of whom were apparently taking a smoking break right when he needed them.
"We need some help over here!"
To Be Continued
