Learning Boundaries


Disclaimer: Knock Knock ... Can CSI come out and play? ... Thanks ... I'll bring them back home before curfew. CSI belongs to CBS...


Sara walked through the hallway feeling eyes on her. She had felt them for a long time. It was impossible to go through the night and not feel that scrutinizing gaze lingering on her every move.

She stepped into the breakroom and grabbed Nick's shoulder. He looked up at her with bright eyes – and an even brighter grin. No, that was not a grin – it was a smile. This was more serious than a whimsical grin. This was happiness. In response to Nick's grin, Sara supplied one of her own.

Grimacing at the sight, Grissom walked back into his office. He could stand watching her no longer. She was joking, smiling, laughing, and having a good time in general. How did she have any right? He was miserable.

He ignored them as best he could. His stomach was rumbling – and, this time, not from hunger. He would ignore it, just as he did most of the things in his life that annoyed him. His sigh was deep and regretful as he pulled out a file and started reading.

Catherine walked by his door, glancing at him only for a second. He looked up just as she looked in, but she did not stop walking. Grissom did not want to leave the sanctity of his office.

"Cath, can you come in here for a second?" he called out to her as she passed.

"What's up, Gil?" she asked as she peeked into his doorway.

He thrust his arm out with the assignments in his hand. "Can you give these out?" It was more of a statement than a question. The avoidance in his eyes was evident as he stared at the pile of folders in front of him.

Catherine squinted at him. Silently, she reached out and took the papers from his hand. The question remained on her face even though Grissom never looked up to see it. She wanted to know why he was resorting to paperwork rather than going out into the field.

Lately, Catherine realized, Grissom had been removing himself from the group. He was watching and waiting, quietly observing everything from the sidelines. His face grew more solemn with each passing day. This was the Grissom she had only seen when cases got the better of him and he needed an escape.

She thought back over the cases he had recently been involved in. Not finding one that should have driven him further inside himself than his usual personal seclusion, Catherine began to worry about her friend. If it was not a case, then what would make Grissom so introspective? Did something happen in his personal life?

They had not talked in a while. She knew she had been more involved with Lindsey lately. The little girl was growing up and needed her mother. Lindsey had been through a lot in the previous few years, and Catherine was trying to divide herself between work and her daughter. These were the tough years for a growing kid, and Catherine was only trying to make them more manageable.

In doing more for herself and her daughter, Catherine had let other relationships fall all around her. Grissom and she had been friends for many years. They had shared many a morning together eating and talking and relaxing. It had never been more than friends. It was just calm and comfortable for them.

They had rough spots, like any other friendship in the world. For what is anything worth if there is no hardship in getting there? Grissom had never been and would never be a sharer in the biggest sense of the word. He was quiet and introspective – a thinker. There were times he would talk about things that worried him, but never ever would he show too much of his soul.

Grissom peered over the top of his glasses at Catherine as she stood just inside the door of his office. "Catherine, I believe the rest of the team is waiting on you," he said with a hint of displeasure at her still invading his space. He watched her thinking, looking, and thinking some more. She looked as if she was trying to figure out how to say something, and that just was not Catherine.

Resignedly, he leaned back in his chair waiting on her to decide it was time to talk. Grissom removed his glasses and held them gingerly in his fingertips. Catherine took that as a sign. It was the first time in weeks that he had even looked like he was willing to talk. It was now or never.

For a second more she hesitated to look at him. He was looking at her expectantly, patiently waiting for her to say something – anything. She took in his eyes and the rest of his appearance in general. Tired. Lost. Forlorn. Beaten. What had happened to him?

She walked further inside and slid into one of the chairs in front of his desk. She knew that standing while he was sitting would make it appear as if she was in control, demanding. Ever the CSI, Catherine knew how to handle people appropriately for almost every situation. Seeing the slight release of tension in his neck, she knew she had been right.

Now or never, Cath, she told herself. "Gil..." Catherine sighed not knowing where exactly or how to start. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Grissom opened his mouth faintly in an almost mocking gesture. The tension in his neck came back. With the briefest of movement of his head from left to right, he replied, "No." The simple word was belittling. His indifference was unsettling. Catherine wanted to shake him into reality.

"And that's it? No? That's all you're going to say?" A pure look of bewilderment crossed her face.

"That's it." Tilting his head for emphasis that the conversation was over, Grissom placed his glasses back on his nose and picked up a file. He poised the file in front of him, reading it from his reclined position.

Catherine stood from the chair and crossed to the door where she turned to look at him. Her training be damned at that moment – he needed to feel some pressure. "Grissom, we've had our moments. Through the good and the bad, we've always remained friends. Maybe not the friendship it was years ago, but friendship still in the least. Times change, I get that. Maybe I'm no longer the person you can talk to. But, damn, Gil, you need to find someone to talk to." She shook her head from side to side for a moment. "You don't see it, do you? Just because you're sitting in here in your office doesn't mean the rest of the world freezes in time. We're out there living, and you're in here pretending to do paperwork."

Grissom opened his mouth to protest, but Catherine stopped him with a wave of her hand as she finished talking. "I'm not going to tell you to pull your head out of your microscope this time. Because that would imply that at least you were doing and caring for something. This time I'm telling you to pull your head out of your ass. Because right now, in that room down the hall there is a group of kids who need you as much as you need them, and you're letting them slip away. More to the point, you're pushing them – all of us – away."

Again, Grissom looked as if he was willing to speak, but Catherine turned and left before he had a chance to even utter a syllable. He watched her walk away as he pursed his lips into a serious frown. Her words, though spoken out of anger, were hitting him deeply. He felt sadness coursing through him.


Halfway through the shift, Grissom threw the files down in disgust. He had not been able to concentrate properly. His mind continued drifting back to what Catherine had said to him. Every ounce of him wanted to be angry at her, but he could only bring himself to resignation at it. He knew she was right.

Leaving his office in an utter mess, Grissom left the confines of the lab to find the CSI Tahoe in the parking lot. Catherine had left him a memo detailing who was assigned to each case. She and Greg were working a DB at a strip club. Warrick and Nick were working a triple homicide at the Stratosphere. Sara had been given a drive-by shooting to handle on her own.

Sara was the cause of his internal conflict, and he really did not want to be alone with her right at that moment. However, he knew that they did not need three CSIs at one scene when there was one of them alone. He needed out of the lab, away from his paperwork, and mostly away from his thoughts. Grissom knew he needed the distraction that only working a case could give him.

He pulled up at the crime scene and stared hard at Sara for a moment before he got out of the SUV. She was so meticulous at what she did. The sheer nature of it was sensual to him. Her movements were graceful as she moved from one piece of evidence to the other. To anyone else it would most likely seem abnormal to find an act of placing a bullet casing in a bag erotic. To Gil Grissom it was exhilarating.

Reluctantly, Grissom pulled himself from the seat, grabbing his kit from the back seat on the way. Kit in hand, he walked up to Sara. She was lost in thought as she was picking up another casing from the curb. Sara had seen him drive up but pretended to not notice him at all. By the time he reached her, she had almost forgotten he was there at all.

"Sara," Grissom merely stated in greeting.

She looked up at him momentarily. "Hey, Grissom. What are you doing here?" And, with that said, she was back at work.

"I'm here to help," he stated flatly.

Sara did not look up that time. She focused on scanning the grass with her flashlight. Even though she had already been over that part twice and knew there was nothing there, Grissom would not know it. "I'm fine on my own. Maybe Warrick or Nick could use your help. They've got three bodies and a hotel room to process."

"There are two of them. I'm sure they're fine." He scanned the area before adding, "You've got a lot of ground out here to cover."

Still refusing to look at him, Sara replied dryly, "I don't need help, Grissom. So, don't lose out on quality paperwork time for this."

Grissom let Catherine's words run through his mind again. He now had evidence that she was right. Now, he needed to figure out how to fix it. "Sara... I need out of the lab for a little while. Would you at least let me help you a little?"

The sincerity in his voice struck her oddly. Her eyes flew up to his. She searched his face for an ulterior motive. Finding none, Sara pointed towards the driveway as she said, "I haven't been over there, yet." She felt the need for him to be away from her even if he insisted on being at the same scene.

"Thank you," Grissom said as he walked past her and stopped at the driveway pulling his latex gloves on. Giving the entire scene a once over, making an attempt as sounding more casual than he was feeling, he called over his shoulder, "You're going to remain the primary. I'm just an extra pair of hands."

That brought a smirk and a light chuckle from Sara. She shook her head briefly and went back to work. Since he was not staring at her anymore, Sara actually found a piece of ground to cover that she had not worked on previously.