Chapter 2

"Shawn of the Dead?" Grissom turned the dvd over in his hand. It was clear he didn't hold out much hope for the film. Sara shrugged, "We could go get something else, or just see what's on cable."

"Shawn of the dead." He was shaking his head. Sara removed the movie from his grip and led him to the table. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

"Do you think Nick watched Shawn of the Dead?" He sat across from her at the small table.

"Can you stop saying 'Shawn of the Dead'? It's unsettling."

"It's just…Dawn of the Dead. Okay, Good zombie flick, the original anyway. Even Son of the dead has potential. Shawn of the dead. What does that even mean?"

"We don't have to watch it. Tell me what you did today." She tried weakly to change the subject but truth be told she was amused.

"No, oh no. We're watching this. Shawn of the…" her look stopped him cold and he went into Ward Clever mode, "How was your day dear?"

"Tiring. I'm getting to old to stay up so late and then work in the morning."

"You and Luna have a wild girls night out at William Sonoma?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, "It wasn't JUST William Sonoma. They're filling a new apartment, they need everything."

"Didn't they have stuff before?"

"I don't see Nick being too jazzed about sleeping on her pink flowered sheets."

"Good point. I'm hoping Nick had sheets."

Sara made a face, "Boy sheets."

"Boy sheets? I can see how sheets can be feminine, or neutral, but unless we suspect he sleeps on sheets with superheroes or footballs, I don't see what would be so masculine about his sheets."

Sara laughed a little and tried not to choke on her food. "I wouldn't put the football sheets past him. Not what I meant though. Guy funk."

"Funk?"

"C'mon Grissom. We go to a scene, or to interview someone at their house. If a woman lives in the house it smells one way, if a man lives alone, or with other men…funk."

"My house does not have a funk. I bet Shawn's house is plenty funky."

She stabbed him lightly with her fork. "Leave Shawn out of this."

"Does my house have a funk?" he looked genuinely concerned.

"I don't remember. I haven't been there in years. If I had to guess I'd say it probably doesn't, but your office definitely has a funk."

"My office has guy funk?"

"Bug funk. Dead stuff funk. It's okay, it's not gross like guy funk, it's just…forensifunk."

"Sounds like a band Greg would listen to, Forensifunk." Grissom toyed with his food, considering.

"They could do the theme song for Shawn of the Dead Two." She laughed and he grinned at her.

He rinsed the dishes in the sink while she changed out of work clothes. They met on the sofa and Sara resigned herself to an education in what did and did not constitute an acceptable zombie movie. They sat close, but not touching until he reached for her hand. Absolutely anything could have been happening on the television screen, Sara had no idea. Eyes closed, she lay her head back on the sofa, what they watched didn't matter, how late she stayed up, who cared, this moment was golden. She was home, he was there, and she could just be.

Her mind drifted to the last time she sat with a man on her sofa, wrapped in Hank's arms. She'd worked so hard to be interested in his day, to try to think of questions that would make him want to talk but invariably all he wanted was what they all wanted. Maybe not all. Most of them.

She thought about the nights she slept on the sofa, afraid to go to bed. Unable to really find a calm place in her mind, hearing the screams of victims she worked to avenge, the scream of her mother as she landed blow after blow on her father. She held tight to her sympathy for the victim so she wouldn't have to acknowledge her empathy for the killer.

Somewhere along the way she must have fallen asleep. In her dream she and Luna smothered a screaming man who's face they couldn't see under sheets covered in football players and spiders. Luna kept telling her that Shawn was going to be pissed.

"Shhhh. Hey, it's okay." Grissom had pulled her into his arms and was smoothing her hair.

"Sorry, I must have drifted off." She knew she should probably sit up, make some explanation but instead she snuggled deeper into him and lay her head on his chest allowing him to stroke the side of her face, the back of her neck.

He kissed the top of her head and then gently nudged her with his chin, "Tell me about this baking you do."