Author's Notes: Thanks for all the wondeful reviews, everyone. As promised, I multi-tasked another chapter;) I hope everyone enjoys it. 'Til next time!
The Invisible Man
by Kristen Elizabeth
Waking up in a strange bed had always thrown him off. But never in all of his fifty years, had Grissom woken to the sound of a baby crying.
Sara's hair was spread out across his pillow; his cheek lay on the soft locks. Her warm, bare back rested against his chest. As they slept, she'd drawn his arm around her and entwined their fingers together at her breast.
As far as he could remember, it had been the best sleep of his life.
Grissom dropped a kiss on her shoulder and extracted his hand from hers. Before Jacob's cries could wake her, he crept out of bed and pulled on his boxers. He closed the door to Sara's room behind him and started down the hall.
Jacob lay in his crib, pouring out his woes to the mobile hanging over him. Grissom padded over to the bassinet and lifted the baby from it.
"Whoa, there," Grissom said, softly. "What's going on with you, Jacob?" He ran down the list of possible problems. Could be hunger, could be loneliness, could be…
"Oh. Diaper."
Changing a baby was nothing compared to examining a three week-old decomposed body. This wasn't to say it was an entirely pleasant affair, either. But after seeing Sara do it so many times, Grissom felt he pulled it off fairly well. Jacob didn't seem to care either way; he was just happy to be dry. He gave Grissom a gummy smile of appreciation.
Figuring everything was all right now, Grissom lowered Jacob back into his crib, wound up his mobile and started for the door. A fresh round of wailing had him back at Jacob's side in an instant.
"Let's not wake up Mommy, Jacob," he told the little boy. When reasoning with him failed to bring results, Grissom realized this wasn't going to be as easy as a fresh diaper.
"'…Arizona versus…scent evidence…as expert witness testimony…testing…proving them to be fair…thus the Frye test was…'"
At first, Sara thought she was having her frightening recurring nightmare in which she was trapped in the DNA lab with Ecklie and a stack of forensic journals. But then she realized she was half-awake and in her own bed.
Her hand instinctively felt for Grissom, but found only empty, cold sheets. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she was seized with momentary panic. Had he left? Had it all proven to be too much for him, too soon? Sara forced herself to keep breathing, and to not jump to conclusions. He could be in the bathroom. He could have gone out for orange juice. He could be…
"'California versus Ryan Willis held that dog-scent-identification evidence was improperly admitted to the courtroom according to the rules set forth by the Frye and Kelly cases.' What do you think about that, Jacob?"
…reading forensic journals to her son.
Sara belted her robe at her waist and wandered down the hall. At the nursery door, she stopped and peeked in.
Grissom had seated himself in her big rocking chair with Jacob and an old article on the analysis of human scent and its admissibility in court. Sara listened to him read a few more sentences in a low, soothing tone before she stepped inside the room. He looked up and smiled at her. "I found this article fascinating, but it put him right to sleep."
Sara pressed her fingers against her mouth for a long moment. "I thought you'd left."
"It crossed my mind that you might. But Jacob was quite anxious about a wet diaper, and I didn't want to wake you up for something I could take care of. I'm sorry, honey."
"No," she shook her head. "Thank you."
Grissom cleared his throat. "Are we ready to have our serious talk, or should I continue on?"
"I suppose we might as well." Sara sank down onto Jacob's toy chest. "What happens now that we've…?"
Silence descended over the room like a blanket.
He lowered the journal and looked straight at her. "One of us is going to have to start talking."
"I've done enough talking," she whispered. "It's your turn."
Grissom nodded. "All right." After quickly glancing down at the sleeping baby in his arm, he said, "I don't want to be his godfather."
Sara exhaled sharply, like she'd been punched in the stomach. "Oh." She blinked. "Well…I…" She stopped and swore under her breath. When she finally forced herself to look at him, her eyes were wet. "Why?"
He let the journal fall to the floor as he lifted Jacob to his shoulder and stood up. Patting his little back, Grissom walked to the end of the room and turned back around. "The dictionary definition of a godparent is a person who sponsors a child at their baptism. The generally accepted definition is a person who takes on the responsibility of ensuring that a child is raised according to Christian principles and beliefs. Other religions such as Hinduism and Islam…they don't even have the equivalent of a godparent."
"You don't have to give me a linguistics lesson just because you decided not to…"
Grissom went on. "I don't even know who my godparents are. Do you? Know yours?"
Sara bit her lip. "I got birthday and Christmas cards from them up until my father…died. That first year in foster care, I kept expecting them to show up and take me away. Obviously didn't happen."
"Unless you're active in the church, it's an honorary title at best. Something you ask of whoever happens to be your friend at the time, with no guarantees that the person will be a part of your life five, ten years down the line. Much less part of your child's life."
"Are you planning to go somewhere?" she asked, the wobble in the question making it less of a joke than she had intended.
Grissom shook his head. "Sara…I don't want an invisible role in Jacob's life." He inhaled the baby's sweet, powdery scent. "I spent so much of your pregnancy selfishly resenting him for the day he would be born, when you'd stop being my Sara, and become his mother." He paused. "I'd like it if he could forgive me for that someday."
She steepled her hands in front of her mouth. "Gil…"
"But then he was born and…I don't know, Sara. I can't explain what happened when I looked at him for the first time."
"I think I can guess," she whispered.
"I know he's not mine, and he won't ever really be mine. But sometimes I like to look at him and…"
"Pretend he's yours?" Sara's smile trembled. "Want to hear something sad? I picked a sperm donor with blue eyes. Taking my genetics into account, Jacob has a fifty-fifty shot of keeping his current eye color."
Grissom stared at her. "Did you…because of me?"
"Please don't act surprised." She stood up and walked towards him. "You know how I feel about you." Sara reached out and touched her baby's soft head. "Would you think less of me if I said…I had him because I was lonely?"
"I wouldn't. Because I don't think that's the only reason you did."
Sara looked away. "I pretend he's yours, too. That's probably even sadder, right?" She brushed a tear off her cheek. "You haven't ever donated sperm, have you?"
He smiled sadly. "I wish I could say I have."
When she looked back at her, her eyes overpowered the remnants of his emotional walls. "What do you want, Gil?"
Jacob woke with a whimper. Grissom gently rubbed his back until he quieted down and closed his eyes again. For Sara, it was a magical moment with the two people she loved most in the world.
Grissom looked at her. "If I can't be his biological father, I want to be the next best thing. And that's not merely his godfather."
"And…what about me?"
"Well…" The corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth. "I figure you and Jacob are a package deal."
"We are." There was a pause. "But we're not uncomplicated, Gil. We're chaotic and unpredictable and, frankly, messy. Are you ready for that?" This time, when she reached out, she stroked her hand down the side of his face. "Are you really ready for us?"
"I'm not going to pretend that I'll be anyone's definition of a perfect parent or a perfect partner," Grissom said. "But I will promise that I'll try to be both." He caught her hand with his free one and kissed her fingers. "I've wasted a lot of years trying not to be in love with you. I'd like to spend a lot more just being with you. Both of you."
It was good to know that all those pennies she'd thrown away into fountains, wishing for this very moment, hadn't been totally squandered.
Sara kissed him, languishing in the comfort of his warm mouth. "Come back to bed."
Grissom nodded. Then he frowned. "Does this mean…what does this mean, honey?"
She gently eased Jacob away from him and after a moment of cuddling her son, she put him back into his crib. "It means Rome wasn't built in a day." She straightened up. "We still have a lot to talk about. Starting with one very important choice we have to make."
"What's that?"
"Nick or Greg?" Sara smirked. "Or can Jacob have two godfathers?"
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: Excerpts used in this story came from, "Analysis of the Uniqueness and Persistence of Human Scent.", by Allison M. Curran, Scott I. Rabin, Kenneth G. Furton, Forensic Science Communications, April 2005, Vol. 7, No. 2
