MAMA LUPITA

Epilogue

Spoiler: A bullet runs through it, part two, Burden of Proof, Mea Culpa, Nesting Dolls, Scuba Doobie Do

This chapter starts right after Gil demonstrates how the perp threw the gun up in the red-clay roof (in ABRTI part two), and a couple of hours after "Mamá Lupita" ended.

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Once it was clear that Gil's theory was correct, Cops and IA officials turned their backs on the CSIs and walked away, deep in conversation.

Gil turned to Hodges and handed him the guns they'd used in the demonstration.

"Good job, Hodges," he said.

The Trace expert took the guns in silence. He didn't seem his usual cocky self, and this may have had something to do with the fact that Sara had been able to throw the guns up the roof, while he hadn't even tried.

"I didn't help much," Hodges said self-consciously.

"Yes, you did," Gil replied, "You brought us the guns just in time for the demonstration."

"Oh," Hodges said, perking up, "Yeah. I drove fast. In fact," he added smugly, "I ran a couple of red lights just to get here."

"Take the guns back to Bobby," Grissom said, "And add this information to your report."

"Sure, boss," Hodges said.

Sara watched as Hodges walked away with his head held up high; evidently, Grissom's words had soothed his bruised ego.

She smiled; Gil always knew what to say –

Or did he?

Her smile diminished as she realized that Grissom did not always know what to say –not when it came to anything that was not related to work, that is. How many times had he stayed mum when he should have said something…?

But she quickly stopped that line of thought. 'Stop it,' she admonished herself. 'You promised not to think about that anymore. Now, go back to work.'

Sara discreetly glanced at Gil as they walked back to the parking lot. She didn't remember much of her clove-induced visions, but there were a couple of images that refused to vanish from her mind -like the way their bodies met and moved like one...

'Stop it!'

Sara sighed. Her Oh, how she wished she had never gone to Mamá Lupita's house…

"You ok?" Gil asked as he put the ladder in the back of his van.

"I'm fine." She replied in a business-like manner. "So," she added, "I guess I should go back to the -"

"Not yet," he said. He motioned her to the passenger door, "Hop in."

"What?"

"Get in," he said, walking to the driver's door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'd like to grab a bite."

Her eyebrows rose.

"You want to eat? Now?"

"I'm hungry," he said, opening the driver's door. "I haven't eaten in twelve hours, and neither have you."

"But the sheriff said..."

"Sara," he interrupted, "We've just cleared two cops from any wrong-doing in a shooting. We set their minds at ease and we saved the PD from being hit with a multimillion-dollar suit," he paused, "I believe you and me deserve a half-hour break."

She opened her mouth again, but she had run out of objections. Besides, he was right. They deserved a break.

- - - - - - - - - -------

They chose a small restaurant whose main attraction was the small garden at the front. There were a couple of empty tables, and Sara chose one of them.

Gil had insisted on buying, and he brought the tray to their table. He placed a salad in front of her. She eyed his plate. He had ordered a vegetarian burger, very possibly in deference to her.

She smiled, acknowledging his gesture.

They didn't talk after a few initial comments about the food. They would glance at each other now and then, but that was all.

So, his next words took her by surprise.

"So, Sara," he said, "What's going on in your life?"

"What do you mean?"

"We haven't talked much lately," he said. "I'd like to know what you've been doing lately. Have you read anything? Watched a movie?"

She hesitated. She wasn't sure whether he was genuinely interested or if he merely wanted to fill the silence with small talk. But she quickly dismissed that last part: Gil liked silence, and when he broke it, it was for a reason.

"Well…" she started, "I've been doing some volunteer work at a local shelter -"

"Really?" he asked cautiously. Grissom pictured Sara working with abused women, and he didn't like the idea. She needed a diversion, not more angst.

"An animal shelter." she added tentatively.

This wasn't something Sara cared to discuss with everybody, since people rarely thought of animal shelters as a priority. But Grissom had always had a soft spot for endangered species and nature in general, so it was possible that he'd be interested.

It looked like he was. He motioned her to continue.

"Some college students and me." Sara added, warming up to the subject. "It's a good cause."

"What made you become involved?"

"Well, I used to make cash contributions. It seemed that was enough, until one day I found out that most of the money ended up in the administrators' pockets. So..." she shrugged, "I decided to do something about it."

"A little hands-on participation." He suggested.

"Exactly," she said. "We've really made a difference, Grissom," she added, "We are providing hospitals with therapy pets; the number of animals put to sleep has decreased -"

"Good for you," he said sincerely.

Between bites of salad, Sara told him all about the shelter.

"Of course, we can't save them all," she said after a moment. "To tell you the truth, at first I didn't know if I'd be able to handle that part. I mean, we see so much death in our jobs, I didn't want to face death on my day off, too. But then I thought how doing nothing could be worse in the long run, so..."

Grissom looked thoughtfully at her for a moment.

"Yes." He said softly. "Doing nothing can be worse, sometimes."

He seemed lost in his own thoughts -gloomy thoughts.

She tried to distract him from them.

"By the way," she said casually, "I'm thinking of taking up Spanish."

"Spanish?" he seemed surprised.

She smiled, enjoying his reaction.

"Yes. It will broaden my horizons, I think. And it could be useful at work."

"It's a beautiful language." Grissom said simply. He stared at her for a moment, and then he looked away.

To her utter surprise, he said,

Esta cobardía de mi amor por ella

Hace que le vea igual que a una estrella

Tan lejos, tan lejos en la inmensidad

Que no espero nunca poderla alcanzar

"Is that a poem?" she asked.

"A song," he said. "A very old one."

"What does it mean?"

He smiled faintly.

"You'll find out, if you learn Spanish."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Give me two months, and I will."

He smiled and looked down.

It looked like he was withdrawing again, and she didn't want their conversation to end so soon.

"What about you?" she said, "What have you been doing lately?"

"Oh," he said, "Not much."

"I don't believe that."

He took a deep breath. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

"It's been a tough year." He said. He hesitated and then he added, "I've made some bad decisions lately, Sara."

"We all make them sometime." She said dismissively.

"But my decisions affect others." He said. He kept his gaze on her until she looked up. He cleared his throat, and said, "She lost her promotion because of me, Sara."

She slowly put down her fork.

She should have known he'd want to talk about Sofia.

"I know she did." She said quietly. "It's what makes it so difficult to dislike her."

He smiled faintly at this.

She took a deep breath.

"I guess I went over the line, this morning," she said, "I had no right to tell her to leave your office."

"Actually, you did," he said simply, "She was compromising the case by coming to the lab. You were following protocol; she was not." He paused, "And yet… I can't help thinking that if it had been somebody else, you wouldn't have been so adamant. You would have tried to help."

She looked down at her half-empty plate.

"I don't know about that -" she said evasively.

"You would have helped her if it weren't for me."

Sara looked up sharply. He had never been this direct.

"You are a kind woman, Sara." Grissom said gently. "Don't ever let anyone or anything change that part of you. Not me, not the job…"

She looked away for a moment.

"It's just… hard to trust her." She said. She glanced at him, "She worked with Ecklie for five years, Grissom. There's got to be something wrong with her." But she said it with a slight tilt in the tone of her voice, and a faint smile on her face.

He smiled back.

"I used to think like that -"

"Until she stood up to Ecklie." She said.

Gil looked thoughtfully at her.

"Come to think of it," he said, "You stood up to him for me, too."

"Oh, he was asking for it," she said dismissively.

But Gil didn't take the matter lightly. He shook his head with something close to regret, and then he said, "I've let others fight my battles for too long, Sara."

"Friends help each other," She said tentatively. "I mean, you stood up to Ecklie for me too. I appreciate that."

Grissom smiled. And then, without thinking, he reached and gently touched her cheek.

She froze.

Grissom almost dropped his hand when he realized what he was doing, but something made him change his mind. He wanted to touch her face -why shouldn't he?

Defying her questioning look -and his own misgivings- he brushed her cheek again.

"You've got, hum, a little salad dressing -" he said as sole explanation.

Chagrined, she reached to touch her face, but he gently waved her hand away.

"No, it's ok," he said, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, "I'll get it."

Her heart was beating fast.

"That, hum, seems like more than just a bit of salad dressing," she said after a moment.

"It seems so, yes." he said brazenly.

"Are you saying I'm a sloppy eater?" she teased.

He smiled.

"There," he said, withdrawing his hand at last.

Her cheeks were burning, and so were his. To hide his confusion, he picked up a paper bag that had been resting by his side.

"Finish your salad," he said gruffly, "I've got us some dessert."

"What did you get?"

He rummaged inside the bag and took a small container from it.

"Chopped fruit for you, pie for me."

"Pie?" she asked, wistfully looking at the triangular box that he'd set aside for himself. "What kind of pie?"

"Pecan."

"I could have eaten pie, you know." She said testily. "I'm not on a diet."

"I know," he said, not missing a beat, "But the filling has cloves in it -I asked." He looked up, "You hate cloves, don't you?"

Sara stared at him. At any other time, this comment would have passed unobserved; but after the events of the day –after meeting Mamá Lupita- it made her stop and take notice.

He knew her, she realized.

She smiled.

"I like you, you know?" she said, and she sounded as if she had never realized this until now.

He seemed surprised, but after a moment he smiled too.

"I like you, too." He said.

She smiled. She was about to turn her attention back to her salad, when a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Have you ever heard of an island called St. Vivienne, Grissom?"

"Home of the Thoreau Beetle?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Yeah! Did you see the National Geographic the other day?"

"Sure," he said, clearly warming up to the subject, "Did you see the part where the beetle -"

And on he went.

Sara smiled.

Now, this was the Gil she loved.

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THE END.

This a very loose translation of the song that Gil mentioned.

"Esta Cobardía" (This Cowardice) (Excerpt)

My cowardly love for her

makes me see her like a star,

So, so far away in the sky,

that I can never hope to reach her