Chapter Sixteen

5:00pm

Sara woke up and stretched. Grissom remained motionless and asleep. She felt him, his warmth, and his heartbeat, and relaxed, somewhat. Delicately, she got out of bed, slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and headed downstairs. She grabbed an apple from the kitchen and turned on the television.

7:30pm

Sara's stomach rumbled loudly, so she went to the kitchen to start to think about dinner. Fifteen minutes later, she had chopped her vegetables and the water was on the boil for her pasta.

Grissom sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his left hand, trying to decide what to do. He sat for ten minutes and then got dressed in khakis, grey sweater, and loafers. He made the bed and walked downstairs to find Sara cooking her dinner.

"Hi,"

"Hi," he said, giving her a quick kiss.

"Can I make you anything?"

"Yes, I mean, no. I think I need some meat. I'll wait till you're done." Grissom said, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar.

"Peppermint tea?"

"Coffee, please," Grissom asserted firmly.

Sara started to argue but, after looking at him, she stopped. She poured him a cup of coffee and dosed it with milk. He took it from her quietly and sipped it. Suddenly, he was struck by the silence in the room. He reached for the remote and turned on the stereo, only to be greeted with static. Frowning, he walked to the stereo and reset it for CD, not tuner. Then he chose Cellos in the Mist and pressed play. He walked back to the stool as Sara finished making her dinner.

"Kitchen's yours," she said softly, sitting next to him.

He stood and bent slightly to kiss her neck, before picking up his coffee and walking into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, and then the freezer, he quickly saw what he wanted; ground sirloin burger and some new potatoes. He started the broiler, and half an hour later, he was voraciously consuming his dinner.

"Griss, I've got to head out for work. I'll see you in the morning," she said, standing next to him.

He offered his cheek, rather than his beef-ridden mouth, and continued to eat his dinner. Sara gathered her stuff and left the townhouse. He finished his dinner and took his coffee to the sofa. Turning off the CD player, he turned on the TV and caught up on the news before watching the Discovery Channel.

10:00pm

Grissom woke from a deep sleep, feeling energized but restless. He picked up the phone and dialed Andy.

"Hayes,"

"It's Grissom,"

"You ready to talk?"

"Yeah, uhm, what are you doing/"

"Me? I'm about to go to sleep,"

"Oh,"

"I can meet you, just tell me where?'

"Your office,"

"Okay, Gil, my office in thirty minutes,"

"I'll be there," Grissom said, turning off the TV.

"Bye."

"Bye."

10:45pm

Grissom pulled the Denali into the parking lot at the police station, pulled out his ID and affixed it to the bottom of the V of his v-neck sweater. He walked into the building and waved at the receptionist as he headed to Andy's office. He tried the door, but it was still locked. Anxious, he started to pace. A few minutes later, Andy arrived, noting Grissom's demeanor. He unlocked the door and walked in, Grissom on his heels. Andy only turned on his desk lamp, his CD player, and his coffee maker, before sitting down. Grissom continued to pace.

"Ok, what did you want to talk about?"

Grissom stopped and looked at him. He sat down, his hands clenching and unclenching as he wrestled with his thoughts.

"Let me start, okay? Kevin died in your arms, but more that that, he died because of you. In your anger, you killed Kasgar."

"Kevin told me to. I had no choice; kill or be killed." Grissom whispered.

"Sofia was murdered because of her connection with both Kang and your father."

"She propositioned me. He didn't tell her we were related."

"Lastly, Kang shot your best friend and poisoned you. Then you avenge Jim and kill Kang in the process."

"It could have gone the other way…"

"Gil, you avenged two men; you didn't kill anyone in cold blood." Andy said, looking at him carefully. "How do you feel? Forget the psychobabble, how do you feel? Are you ready for work?"

Grissom looked at him. Taking a deep breath he began.

"I don't know, I'm just now able to sleep through most of the night. I'm still on my ulcer meds. I haven't had a migraine in a couple of days. I still get anxious and lost, sometimes."

"Let me let you in on a secret, we all do. I'll tell you what, check in with your physician today and we'll get you back to work as soon as possible. Okay?"

"Okay…"

"Was there something else you needed to talk about?"

"What? Uhm, no, I guess not," Grissom said, yawning.

"Go home and get some sleep, Gil," Andy said, chuckling.

"Yeah, okay," Grissom said, standing to leave the office.

"Night, Gil,"

"Night, Andy,"

11:30pm

Grissom left Andy's office and walked into the hallway. He walked by Jim's office, remembering that he was still on medical leave until the weekend. He continued out to his car and decided to go to the lab to check his messages. He got into the Denali and drove the short distance. Grissom walked into the side entrance, the direct route to his office. Turning on the desk lamp, he noticed someone had organized his messages. There were five more from Thorpe and Evans. He sat down heavily and looked at the messages. The rest of the stack appeared to be job related. He looked at his watch and picked up the phone.

"Speak,"

"Can you spare a half hour?"

"Sure, I'm working but it's no problem. Same drill, I'll have my guy meet you out front."

"Fine," Grissom said, hanging up the phone.

Almost immediately, the intercom buzzed.

"Grissom," he answered.

"Oh, Grissom, it's Steven. Sorry, your phone was lit and I didn't think you were here."

"I'm not. I just came to check on my messages."

"Okay, well then, I'll leave you to it,"

"Night, Steven, thanks."

"You're welcome, Grissom,"

He hung up the phone and grabbed one each of the unknown messages, before heading out of his office.

Wednesday 12:20am

Grissom pulled into The Rampart, released his car to the valet, and followed Lou to Sam's office. As he walked in, Sam was finishing a conversation.

"I don't give a damn. You watch him. Call me when it happens again. I'll show that twerp what happens when you steal from me." Sam said, slamming down the phone.

He looked at Grissom and raised his hand in apology at his behaviour.

"Hair of the dog? It's been a long day for me." Sam asked.

"Bourbon would be great," Grissom said, walking towards the older man.

Sam turned to the cabinet behind him and revealed a full wet bar. He poured Grissom his bourbon over a few rocks and himself a scotch, neat.

"To fathers," Sam toasted.

"And their children," Grissom added, softly.

They raised their glasses and took liberal sips before Sam motioned for Grissom to sit on the leather sofa.

"What can I do for you?" Sam asked, sitting at the opposite end, his arm stretched along the back of the sofa.

"Do you know Tim Thorpe or Larry Evans?"

"Sure, I recommended them to your father. Thorpe is a hot-shot real estate attorney. Evans is a very good accountant. Why do you ask?"

"They've been calling the lab but only leaving cell numbers. I had no point of reference." Grissom said, taking a sip of bourbon.

Sam reached to the phone and hit a speed dial number.

"Come to The Rampart, now." He said before disconnecting the call.

He hit another button and made a call.

"The Rampart, thirty minutes."

Hanging up the phone, he turned to Grissom. Seeing the surprise in his eyes, he chuckled.

"Look, I owed your old man. Summoning his boys at one in the morning goes with the territory. This is Vegas, after all."

Grissom nodded thoughtfully and waited for the men to arrive. During that period, Sam took eight phone calls and left the office twice. Grissom refilled his bourbon and paced slowly.

1:45am

There was a short knock on the door before it swung open. A tall slim man in a sports coat walked in first with a stocky blonde on his heels.

"Mr. Braun, what can I, uhm, we, do for you?"

"Tim Thorpe, this is Dr. Gil Grissom." Sam said, enjoying watching the attorney squirm.

"Dr. Grissom, I'm so pleased to meet you. This is my colleague, Larry Evans, C.P.A."

"Dr. Grissom," Larry said, extending his hand.

Grissom shook the men's hands and stood warily.

"Look, I have some real work to attend to. Stay here as long as you like," Sam said, heading to the door.

"Thanks, Sam," Grissom said, reaching to shake his hand.

"You're welcome, Grissom. Watch the sauce!" he warned, before leaving his office.

Grissom turned to the other men and took a deep breath.

"Tell me what you know about my father,"

8:00am

Sara walked into the townhouse and realized that Grissom wasn't there. It had been a long night and all she wanted to do was to take a hot shower. She checked her cell phone and the answering machine, but there were no messages. Walking into the lab room, she pulled out an envelope and matching card from desk drawer. She sat at the breakfast bar, and wrote Grissom a note.

Sweetheart,

It's a little after eight and you're not here. I love you unconditionally.

It was a tough shift, so I'm heading for bed, but I also have tonight off. Are you

free for dinner?

Love, Sara

She put the card in the envelope and addressed it before putting it next to her keys in the ceramic dish by the front door. She rechecked that she had locked the door and then headed upstairs to shower and sleep.

10:00am

His cell phone rang as he left the parking lot of The Rampart.

"Grissom,"

"Gil, it's Catherine. We have a 419 with bugs at the Rio. Can you meet me at the function rooms by the pool?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in ten"

He disconnected the call and dialed another number.

"Dr. Siegel's office,"

"Hi, it's Gil Grissom. I need to make an appointment for a work physical."

"All right, when do you want to come in?"

"Tomorrow at nine?"

"That's fine. We'll see you then Dr. Grissom."

"Thanks, bye."

Grissom drove into the Rio's driveway, picked up his kit, and walked to the function rooms. As soon as he walked into the room, he knew why he was there. The air was stifling, the victim dead, the police officer, wishing he could be. Quickly, Grissom started his examination of the scene. He took samples of the blowflies at their different stages, took photos, and documented everything. Taking his evidence, he drove back to the lab and started to process.

12;15pm

Grissom concentrated on documenting every aspect of the case. He ignored his fatigue until he solved it. Solid proof on the vinyl flooring conventioneer. He called Doc.

"Robbins,"

"It's Gil, approximate time of death 11am yesterday."

"Terrific, thanks, go home."

"You're welcome,"

He cleaned up his work area, processed the evidence, and completed his paperwork, before climbing in the Denali to try to go home to sleep. As he entered his driveway, he noted the time was 1:30pm. Grissom got out of the car and walked up to his townhouse. Grissom let himself in, dropped his keys in the dish, and heard a new noise. He looked down and saw Sara's note. Opening the envelope, he read the note, standing in the foyer. He smiled and looked at his watch. He walked into the living room and saw another note, leaning up against his bottle of Maker's Mark.

Hi, it's one and you're still not home. I'm going for a swim.

Xxoo Sara

Grissom slipped his shoes off, picked them up, and walked upstairs, slowly. He entered the closet and changed into his swim trunks and a short sleeved button-down shirt, unbuttoned. He headed back downstairs, switched his clear glasses for his sunglasses, put his keys in his pocket, and walked out to join Sara.

It wasn't too hot, although the sun was still high in the sky. Sara had been in and out of the pool once, but was now lying under an umbrella, trying to escape sunburn. She felt the sun go behind a cloud and frowned, knowing that there weren't any clouds in the sky today. She opened her eyes and smiled.

"So, you're finally home,"

"More or less," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"Pull up a chair," she said, shifting to make room for him.

He took a nearby deckchair and pushed it into the shade of the umbrella. Grissom took off his shirt, keys, and glasses, and walked to the deep end of the pool. His bruises had mostly faded, but he didn't look one hundred percent to her. Easily, he dove into the pool and continued under water until he reached the far end. He turned and then started a slow Australian crawl towards her. He reached the end of the pool, swam for the ladder, and got out; his hair, badly in need of a cut, was now a mass of wet ringlets. He realized that he didn't bring a towel, and instead of lying on the slatted wood deck chair, he stretched out on the concrete deck, his chest burning slightly from the heat. Sara noted the time and went back to her journal.

Twenty minutes later, Grissom was asleep and his suit looked dry. She stood up and walked to him, crouched by his side, and touched his shoulder.

"Sweetheart, even you will burn if you don't put something on or get out of the sun," she gently scolded.

He groaned, shifting his arms slightly. She ran her fingers through his hair until he finally woke up.

"Don't want to move," he pouted.

"Then don't complain when you're a lobster in a few hours. It's almost two, why don't you nap under the umbrella for a while? When you wake up we can go in and organize for dinner and a movie." She suggested.

"Okay," he agreed, getting to his knees and then his feet.

He followed her and sat on his deck chair, after putting on his glasses and spreading his shirt onto the back of the chair. Grissom reached for her hand, squeezed it, and fell back asleep. Sara smiled and finished her article, amused at the two of them sitting by the pool. No one at the lab would have believed it, and yet that was what was so wonderful about their relationship; it existed outside the lab.

She maneuvered the umbrella to keep him in the shade as he snored softly, before taking a nap, herself.

5:15pm

Sara packed up and looked over at Grissom. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes hidden behind his dark glasses, his features relaxed.

"Griss? Let's go inside and think about dinner." She said, sitting on the edge of her deck chair and looking at him.

He sat up and faced her. Pushing his glasses up so they rested on the top of his head, he gently pulled her to him for a kiss.

"Now, I'm ready," he declared softly.

She grinned and then stood up. He stood as well, taking his shirt from the back of the deck chair and slipping it over his shoulders. He followed her back to the townhouse. She unlocked the door and they both shivered for a moment when they walked in.

"I'm going to take a shower," she announced, heading upstairs.

Grissom saw the blinking light and the number 6 on the answering machine.

"I'll be up in a minute. Need to check the messages."

Sara nodded and walked upstairs. When she entered the bedroom, Grissom hit play and sat at the breakfast bar.

"This is Tim Thorpe. It's four fifteen and I've emailed you the information we spoke about. Please call at your convenience. I have attached all of my contact information to the email."

Wednesday 4:15pm the computer voice said.

"This is Larry Evans. It's four-thirty. I've emailed you the current account and upon your review, need to meet with you to discuss your plans. All information is on the email."

Wednesday 4:30pm the computer voice said.

"Hi, hell, if I'd known you were going to be in my office for seven hours, Grissom, I wouldn't have offered it. Seriously, I trust that everything went all right? Call me, we haven't had that talk and uh, well, I think I need it if you don't."

Grissom smiled at Sam's message and continued to listen.

Wednesday 4:35pm the computer voice said.

"Grissom, it's Seb. I need to see you tomorrow, Thursday, in the morning. I'm heading back to Washington at the end of the week and just need to review my report with you. It's four forty-five."

Wednesday 4:45pm the computer voice said.

"Hey, it's me. Sorry for disappearing on you. I jumped on the plane with Roger up to the cabin. I'll be back on Saturday. Still stiff and sore, but you know I love it here. Take care,"

Wednesday 5:00pm the computer voice said.

"Gil, it's Rory. Please call me."

End of messages the computer voice said.

Grissom carefully reset the machine without erasing any messages and headed upstairs. As he walked into the bedroom, he heard the shower and Sara singing faintly. He walked into the closet and dropped his trunks and shirt. He carefully removed his watch and felt his clothes for his house keys, setting them on the bureau. He went into the bathroom, put his glasses on the counter and opened the shower door. The water was hot and Sara was enjoying having the entire shower to herself.

"Lots of messages?" she asked, her eyes closed to the soap.

"Six," he replied stepping under one of the shower heads.

Groaning softly, he felt the hot water on his shoulders and back. He reached for the soap and continued to shower, as did Sara on the other side of the massive shower stall. Brushing the water out of his eyes, he looked at her. His voice caught with emotion as he tried to speak. She opened her eyes and looked at him, seeing the abject desire in his face.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking of your note. It was unequivocal."

"Oh, the part about the pool? I did think I was clear there…." She teased.

"No, the other note. I have been so lost for so long," he said, reaching for her, encircling her back. "I needed you to remind me our love was unconditional; without judges or judgment. I couldn't have asked for anything more." He said softly, kissing her on the lips.

She returned the kiss and then turned off the water. Reaching for one of the bath sheets, she started to dry him. It wasn't erotic as much as filled with pure love. When she was done, he reciprocated. They dressed in t-shirts and flannel lounge pants before heading downstairs to the living room to discuss dinner and the movie.

"I forgot to ask, were any of those messages important?" Sara asked, looking at him from the kitchen.

"I need to answer them and do about an hour's worth of work on the computer. How are we situated, food-wise?"

"Truthfully, I'm not hungry at all. Why don't we decide on dinner, I'll get started, and you can finish when you're done with work."

"Okay, sounds good." Grissom said, sitting at the breakfast bar.

He reached for the pad by the machine and quickly made notes on who left messages before erasing the machine. Sara opened the fridge and made small noises as she looked at its contents. She turned to look at him, waiting for him to be finished. He looked up and saw that she was waiting for him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. What are the choices?" he said, focusing on her.

"We have some left over vegetable crepes from Roger, the soup from last night, pasta, some vegetables for a stir-fry…that's about it unless we go shopping or order in." She finished.

"Would you mind if we did order in? I've been up since ten last night, except for napping by the pool. I think once I eat, I'm going to be fairly catatonic." He said, smiling at her.

"No problem from me. Are you eating meat or will you allow me to order for you?" Sara asked, grinning in return.

"Please order for me; anything but the scallion pancakes, they get cold too fast. I have money in my wallet or in the GO jar." Grissom said, motioning with his head to a small jar next to the cookbooks in the kitchen that had Speed Racer on the outside and a cartoon balloon of him saying 'Go'; a gift from Nick.

"That sounds easy enough to me." Sara said, reaching for the menu folder.

Grissom walked by her and grabbed a large rocks glass. He reached across her and took the Maker's Mark bottle, poured a liberal amount into his glass, and topped it off with water. He walked to the dining room table and picked up his father's notebook and the small box, before disappearing into the lab room. Sara looked at her watch, six o'clock, and thought about when to order the food.