Chapter 2: In Transit
Grissom sat in the airport terminal reading over his notes for the presentation he was supposed to give at the convention. It wasn't anything new, just a few bits and pieces he'd picked up since the last time they'd met. For the most part it was about how tightly wrapped bodies could throw expected results off. He sighed, thinking about how long it was since he'd been to one of these meetings. Probably too long, but it didn't mean that he wasn't updated on the latest discoveries.
It just meant he was a workaholic.
He inwardly groaned. He stuffed the pages back into the briefcase that sat next to his carry-on. He rubbed his eyes, the din of the airport was starting to give him a headache. He'd barely had time to get home before the cab to the airport arrived at his townhouse. He didn't even change, just grabbed his two bags and briefcase and ran to the cab, only to find out once he was at the airport, that his flight was delayed by a half hour.
It wasn't enough to jeopardize him making it to the ship, but just enough to be annoying. He was now officially looking forward to sleeping on the plane.
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"What do you mean you sold my seat!" Sara Sidle exclaimed, irate and beyond trying to hide it, "I booked this flight three months ago! I have all my confirmation numbers right here!" She pulled a stack of papers out of her already open purse and shoved them at the scared airport employee in front of her. "I HAVE to be on that plane! And it's bad enough it's already half an hour delayed..."
"Miss Sidle, let me get my supervisor, I'll see if he can do something for you." The girl started to pick up the phone to page her boss.
"Good. You do that. I need to be on that plane." Huffing, Sara turned to rest her back on the desk. Dressed in blue jeans and a tank top, she was slightly warm, but hadn't had time to really change. Her taxi was late, and she had thought she would barely make the flight. Now she had bigger problems to deal with.
She pulled out her cell and sent a short text message. Knowing the recipient wouldn't be able to answer her right away, she put her phone away and started looking around the terminal impatiently. She thought she saw a familiar head poking over the rows of seats, but was pulled from further exploration by a gruff voice.
"Miss Sidle? Is there a problem?"
Turning, she took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Yes, there's definitely a problem..."
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He was finally snuggled into his first class seat and was waiting for the plane to take off. His seat belt was fastened, his eyes were closed, and he was ready to get going.
Someone in coach apparently, wasn't.
"Could you PLEASE move that bag, sir?"
The voice seemed familiar, strained, and ready to burst at any moment.
For a second he thought it was her.
Then he recalled her conversation with Catherine from earlier.
"So what are you doing for your vacation, Sara?" Catherine had asked, as nosy as ever.
Evasively, Sara was able to reply with just enough information to quell Catherine's curiosity. "A bunch of girls I went to Harvard with are getting together, you know, rehash old times, probably look for some guys, get drunk and cry about how pathetic we are, then go look for guys again."
Sara smiled, Catherine smirked, then Grissom cleared his throat and began to hand out assignments.
The voice from coach was politely arguing with the flight attendant about where to put her bag when the fasten seatbelts light came on.
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"Sara!" Marybeth yelled as she flew at her. Sara caught the slightly shorter brunette in her arms and hugged her back.
"MB! It's so great to see you hun! Where's everyone else?" Sara stepped back then followed the woman out to the side of the terminal, away from all of the ruckus.
"They went to go sit in the bar and get some lunch after they heard you were 'delayed.'" Marybeth made quote marks in the air and smiled at her friend.
"Oh, you mean the fat guy who got stuck in the isle? Yeah- all the first class passengers got out, then we were stuck in there for an extra fifteen minutes waiting for the flight crew to get the guy out!" Sara let out a long breath as they walked toward the airport bar to pick up the rest of their group. "As if I didn't have enough problems getting on the plane!"
"I know," Marybeth smiled sympathetically and took her friends hand, "But we're not gonna let that stop us, right? C'mon.. Just like old times, hun. We're gonna terrorize that damn boat!" She let out a huge grin and Sara matched it. Just then she heard screaming.
"Sara!"
"Sassy!"
Sara turned and threw her arms up, accepting hugs from the women running at her. "Erika! Keri!"
Squealing and smiling, the four friends began to go through the usual pleasantries as they made their way to the baggage claim, three of them lugging their bags, Sara shouldering her carry on.
"Oh my God Sara, you're never gonna guess who I saw right here in the airport not half an hour ago!" Keri squealed. The shortest of the group, with dark hair and slightly Asian features, she was always known as the most excitable.
"Who?" Sara was searching the carousel for her bags and asked absentmindedly.
"That teacher that everyone thought you were doing!" She looked at Erika for confirmation. "You know? The, uh... bug guy!"
"Griss?" Sara looked up horrified. She let the bag she was grabbing for move past her on the belt, then realized it and lunged for it, not wanting to wait another fifteen minutes for it to come around again. She landed on the ground, bag in hand, a stunned expression still on her face.
"That's his name! Grissom!" Erika exclaimed. "We couldn't think of it for the life of us!"
Sara stood up and composed herself. "Well, it wasn't him."
The three looked at each other with confusion written across their faces as a stoic Sara counted her bags and decided she had them all.
"What?" She looked at them while she arranged her luggage to make it easier to carry up to the taxi stand. "I work with him now. And that wasn't him. Couldn't have been." She turned and started to walk away.
Marybeth, Keri, and Erika looked at each other before running after her, Keri shouting, "You work with him?"