SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 16 ~

A/N: Apologies for the delay and also for the length of this chapter, I hate when they run this long but sometimes it just can't be avoided.

Tapping his freshly printed boarding pass against his thigh, Grissom frowned as he watched the information screen above him flicker and update, moving Delta flight 1606 one step closer to departure.

Usually a busy and bustling place, McCarran airport by night was quiet by Vegas standards, populated as it was with small pockets of people either sitting or standing here and there awaiting one of the handful of red-eye flights that were scheduled to leave the city in the next couple of hours.

Movement to his left caught his attention and he pasted on a smile as he watched his wife exit the ladies room, her face lighting up with a sheepish grin as she strode purposefully across the concourse towards him.

"It's going to be one of those nights, I know it is." Surreptitiously adjusting the elastic waistband of the maternity slacks she was wearing, Sara rolled her eyes as she came to a stop. "I swear this kid is sitting on my bladder." Satisfied that her clothing was finally correctly situated, she nodded towards the card he held. "You all set now?"

"Yeah." Reaching down he picked his backpack up and swung it over his left shoulder. "And, by the sounds of things, it's just as well it's me that's going to spend the night stuck on a plane and not you." His forehead furrowed as the worries he'd been struggling to suppress finally broke free. "You know, maybe I shouldn't be going, maybe I should call Glen back and pull out; he's a big boy, he really doesn't need me there."

"Yes, he does," Sara countered as she reached to catch hold of his hand. She'd known this was coming; he'd grown more and more quiet as they'd made their way towards McCarran Airport, morphing from seemingly normal as he'd carried his sleeping son into the Robbins home to a deeply pensive silence as she'd driven them further north on I-215. She'd glanced across one or twice during the journey but, with his face turned towards the passenger-side window, she'd chosen to leave him alone, knowing from past experience that it was only a matter of time before he'd give voice to the thoughts running through his mind. "He's never done a formal identification before and you know how unsettling they can be." She slipped her fingers in-between his. "And he's never been to Florida before either whereas you lived there for over a year." She squeezed his hand and smiled. "Surely the least you can do is be there to hold his hand."

"But a seven hour flight there and then seven hours back again all in the space of, what?" Grissom shrugged. "A day and a half?" He sighed and shook his head. "The more that I think about it, the more stupid it actually seems."

"It's not stupid, it's helping out a friend who's the only one available to go and ID his kids' mother and…" she quickly glanced across at him, "she's Ben's mother too, remember or, at least, she was; I think going to Gainesville tonight is the right thing to do."

"No." Adjusting the pack on his shoulder, Grissom gave his head a determined shake. "She may have been the woman that carried and gave birth to him but Melissa was never his mother; you're the only one that he's ever had and ever will have – I know it, you know it and, most importantly of all, Ben knows it." Pulling in a deep breath he let it out again as a sigh. "I just… I don't know, I hate the thought of leaving the two of you here alone."

"We'll be perfectly fine," Sara assured him as they began to walk down towards the gate area. "I'll pick Ben up from Judy's first thing in the morning and then the two of us can spend the day watching the pool being filled which ought to keep him more than entertained. " She swung their arms slightly as they walked in an effort to lighten his mood. "And, since I've already told Catherine I won't be in tomorrow night, maybe the two of us will order a pizza, watch some TV and then have an early night so we're all set to drive back out here and meet your plane on Friday morning." Turning her head, she graced her husband with a confident grin. "Anytime that we're not with other people we're going to be locked up, safe and sound, in the house so there's absolutely nothing to worry about, okay?"

"I had so much I wanted to get done over the next few days though," still not entirely convinced, Grissom shrugged. "I wanted to get the baby's room painted so we can get the furniture in there, then there are the Explorers to pick up…" he drew in a sharp breath. "Remember to give the dealership a call in the morning and let them know we won't be there until Friday afternoon, okay? God knows, we're spending enough money with them, there shouldn't be any problems with that."

"I'm sure there won't be but, if there is, I'll just reschedule it for Saturday and I'm sure the nursery can wait for another couple of days; Ben's at daycare on Monday so the two of us could do it together, things will go a lot quicker if he's not there trying to 'help' anyway." She stared at the line of passengers waiting at the security checkpoint up ahead. "I should probably leave you here; Catherine will be expecting me at the lab soon anyway." Dropping his hand, she turned to face him. "You've got everything?" Her eyebrows arced in question. "Your phone? Your glasses?"

"Yeah," Grissom nodded. "I… oh damn!"

Completely unsurprised, Sara grinned. "What have you forgotten?"

"The bag of stuff I was putting together in the bathroom," he returned her smile with a sheepish one of his own. "I'm pretty sure I left it sitting on the counter." His shoulders rose in a dismissive shrug. "It's not really important – toothbrush, comb, deodorant – I can pick up replacements when I get there."

"And your blood pressure tablets?"

"Well, no, I can't replace them but I don't suppose missing one dose is going to do much harm, is it?"

"It better not," leaning in, Sara wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. "I expect you back here, fit and healthy, on Friday morning, no excuses, okay?"

"I'll make a deal with you," ignoring their surroundings completely, Grissom tugged her closer before pressing his lips to hers. "You promise to make sure that you and Ben stay as safe as you possibly can and I'll promise to do my best to keep my blood pressure under control so I don't blow a fuse while I'm away."

"If you were actually able to do that you wouldn't need those meds in the first place, you know that, right?" she chuckled.

"Yeah, I do," placing a final lingering kiss to her forehead, Grissom winked as he loosened his hold. "Now you better get going before Catherine sends out a search party."

She turned with a laugh and he watched as she made her way back towards the terminal exit, raising his hand in answer to hers as she turned back one last time to wave goodbye before walking through the glass doors out into the night beyond.

The minute she was out of sight his imagination took over, picturing in vivid detail everything that could happen to her on her walk back to the Murano, upon her arrival at the vehicle and then on her way to the lab and, with a sigh that was an almost a fifty/fifty mixture of resignation and relief, he pulled his phone from his pocket and made a quick call.

"Hey, it's me…" Grissom took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. "I've changed my mind."

"You know, I think Grissom's right." Settling herself more comfortably on one of the A/V lab's tall stools, Catherine stared up at the large screen on the wall before her. "If his back was so bad that he has to walk doubled over he'd never have been able to take his victim where he did and if he was hiding his face, he'd have straightened up as soon as he was sure he was far enough away from the cameras so he's disguising something else and, the only thing I can think of that it could be is his height; so," she tapped one carefully manicured fingernail against her teeth as she thought. "The question is do we have a computer program somewhere that can take a still from that video and manipulate him upright?"

"Not that I know of." Seated beside her, Greg deftly rewound the footage to a frame he was happy with. "But, even if we did I'm not sure we'd actually need it." He glanced up at her with a grin. "How long is a piece of string?"

"Um, twice as long as half its length?" Catherine offered him a confused shrug. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Well, if I use this particular length of string to measure the distance from his hip to his knee…" Clicking his mouse pointer on those two points of their perpetrator's leg and then adjusting the resulting measurement to allow for the camera distance and angle, Greg quickly came up with a number. "… I get an approximate femur measurement of twenty-two inches and, if I then convert that to centimeters, multiply it by 2.32 and add 65.53 that's going to give us…" he quickly did the math on the folder in front of him. "An estimated height of 195.17 centimeters or almost six foot five."

"Now that's the kind of height that might just make you noticeable." She didn't even bother to hide her satisfied smile. "That calculation's accurate to within two inches, right?" Catherine asked.

"If you have the actual bone in front of you, yeah," Greg nodded. "I imagine we have a larger margin of error doing it from a photo but I don't actually think we're going to be too far out." He shrugged. "I'd maybe say another inch or so either way to be on the safe side."

"Well, looking at him now and knowing what we know," she stared at the paused picture and shook her head. "I don't think he's going to be on the smaller side of that so let's just ballpark it at somewhere around six-and-a-half feet." She nodded, pleased with what they'd accomplished but knowing that they'd need more than that in order to back Greg's theory up. "Let's just make sure we're on the right track though, okay? Head back out to the casino sometime tonight and make some comparison measurements; find some clear shots of him standing beside something - a car, a shrub, whatever - and use that to see how accurate we are." She bit her lip as she stared back up at the image. "Have a look through Lindsay's notes on that case she worked last week too – you know, the one were the guy was stabbed after accusing the wrong people of stealing his car keys – I'm sure there's some mention of a tall, older male in there somewhere – it may not be our guy but then again-"

"I could help you out with that."

With their attention focused on their work, neither had noticed the figure in the doorway and it wasn't until Catherine swung her stool around that she saw her.

"Hey," she smiled a warm welcome. "Did Gil get off okay?"

"Yeah, he did," stepping over the threshold, Sara entered the room itself. "Sorry, I'm a little later than I thought I'd be, there was an accident on the Strip and traffic was backed up to -"

She looked up at the monitor and instantly froze.

"Sara?" Catherine frowned. "You okay?"

There was no answer; standing stock-still the younger woman appeared to be transfixed by the image on the screen.

"Sara?" Catherine tried again as Greg quickly hopped off his seat and moved towards the door.

"Hey, Sara, you know who that is?" Keeping his voice low, Greg reached out and touched his friend's arm, a gesture that seemed to almost instantly snap her back to the present.

Quickly dropping her gaze from the still image, Sara jerked her head as if to clear her mind and then looked from Greg to Catherine and back again.

"I'm sorry," she smiled, clearly bemused at the looks on both their faces. "Did you say something?"

"Ah, yeah." Greg shot a concerned glance back over his shoulder before continuing. "I asked if you know who he is; the way you were staring at that picture was kind of-"

"No, no, I don't know him," Sara shook her head as if to emphasize the words. "I've never seen him before in my life" She looked past him to Catherine. "As I was saying though, I can help out by going through Lindsay's report if you want or even going out with Greg to get those measurements."

"I, uh …" Taken aback and unsure of what it was she'd just witnessed, Catherine shook her head. "You know, I really need to talk to you before we make any decisions on that." She checked her watch. "You want to meet me in my office in a couple of minutes?"

"Sure." Somewhat surprised by the turn of events, Sara jerked her thumb back over her shoulder towards the break room. "I'll just grab a bottle of water and see you in there."

Watching her carefully, Greg waited until she'd entered the other room before turning back with a frown. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure," Catherine admitted. "Exhaustion maybe; I've never seen someone completely switch off like that before." She drew in a deep breath. "Maybe this is a talk I should have had with her a couple of weeks ago."

"She's not going to like it." Greg commented as he returned to his place at the desk.

"Oh, I'm sure she won't." Pushing herself off her stool, Catherine closed the file folder she'd been using and slipped it beneath her arm. "But Sara liking it or not is no longer an issue," picking up the pen she'd been using, she made her way towards the doorway. "Because, after seeing that little performance, she's going to get absolutely no say in the matter."

Five minutes later, Sara sat up straighter in her chair as she glared across the crowded desk at Catherine. "You're pulling me from the field?"

"It's only a couple of weeks earlier than planned, Sara; is it really going to make that much of a difference?"

"Yes!" Moving forward to the very edge of her seat, Sara's eyes flashed with anger and indignation. "We all agreed that I'd be out in the field until I'm twenty-eight weeks," she shook her head. "It's bad enough that you made a unilateral decision to restrict the type of cases I'm allowed to work on but then you go and do this without even discussing it with me." She drew in a deep breath before letting it out as a voluble huff. "Thanks a lot, Cath; I could understand that kind of attitude if DB was still here but I was kind of expecting better from you."

"And, under normal circumstances, you'd get it but things haven't been normal around here since you were taken from that parking lot and you know it." Catherine countered. "There was always the possibility that you were going to be pulled early anyway; your doctor said that twenty-eight weeks was the maximum he wanted to see you actively working in the field but I'm not comfortable letting you carry on any longer." Leaning back in her office chair, she watched the younger woman carefully. "I'm not, Conrad's not and Gil isn't either; it's just too big of a risk, Sara."

"Gil's not," Sara parroted as her mouth curled up in a sarcastic smile. "I thought you were the boss around here, Catherine."

"I am." She answered evenly.

"So why are doing Grissom's bidding?"

"Technically, I'm not," Catherine corrected. "If you want to blame someone for this then go and have a go at Jim Brass since he's the one who got the ball rolling on it in the first place."

"But Grissom pulled the trigger." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes, he did but, if I'm honest, I was leaning towards it myself anyway and, having seen the way you froze up in the A/V lab tonight, I really do think the correct decision has been made."

"For God's sake, Catherine, I zoned out for a moment, that's all; everybody does it at some time or other."

"Not that way they don't." Feeling her frustration levels rising, Catherine took a deep, calming breath and decided to bring the meeting to a close. "Look, I really don't want to spend the whole night debating this, okay; you're twenty-six weeks pregnant, you'd be out of the field in two weeks anyway and on maternity leave in nine; after speaking to Gil and then to Conrad, the decision's been made that the department is simply not willing to take any more risk with your safety and the safety of your baby than we have to." She shrugged. "From here on out, you're confined to this building during shift; you can help the guys out with any lab work they need done but, apart from that, you're on cold case reviews until your leave kicks in."

Screwing the cap on her water bottle with an angry twist, Sara pushed her way out of the chair. "Well, I suppose there's one good thing that might come out of me wading my way through all those unsolved cases."

"And what's that?" Catherine asked as she watched her make her way across to the door.

Reaching for the door handle, Sara offered her a cold smile. "Maybe I'll get lucky and pick up some pointers on how to kill your husband and get away with it."

"Thanks for coming, Gil." Dropping his black duffle bag at his feet, Glen Collins grasped Grissom's proffered hand tightly with his right one as he clapped him warmly on the shoulder with the other. "You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"No problem," Grissom told him with an easy smile. "That's what friends are for and, as Sara pointed out to me right before I left, I probably owe it to Melissa to do whatever I can at a time like this anyway," he shrugged self-consciously. "After all, if it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have Ben." He glanced around the busy arrivals lounge of Gainesville Regional Airport. "You been here long?"

"Around an hour," Glen nodded towards the far end of the building. "Just enough time to drink the worst coffee I've ever had, call the hotel and make sure we were okay for early check-in and get a jump on booking a rental car." He cocked his head towards the agency counter on the far side of the concourse. "They just need a copy of your driver's license then we're good to go; you sure you don't mind playing chauffeur?"

"Well, I know the place so it makes sense for me to drive," Grissom grinned. "Provided you trust me, of course; we all know what happened the last time I rented a vehicle." He adjusted his pack on his shoulder. "What time are we supposed to be there for the identification?"

"I spoke to Detective Morrison just before I left home and he said he'd be in the office all day so to give him a call when we were ready and he'd meet us at the medical examiner's office." Glen took a deep breath. "Once we're finished there, he wants to take us over to the apartment she's been renting; apparently there's not much there, some furniture, clothing and the like but he thought we should maybe have a look around just in case there's something that might be important to the family." He shrugged. "I'm pretty sure it'll be a waste of time; Melissa never even took a photo with her when she walked out all those years ago and I don't imagine she's accumulated anything of any particular value since but, at least I'll be able to tell the girls that I went." He picked up his duffle again. "How's Sara?"

"She's fine," Grissom nodded. "Although a little pissed off this morning if the voicemail message she left me is anything to go by." The corners of his mouth curled up in an almost conspiratorial smile. "I sent a text back telling her I'd made it here okay and that I'd give her a call later today so hopefully that'll give her time to cool off a little."

"One of the benefits of being clear on the other side of the country, huh?" Glen chuckled. "And Ben?

"Ben's doing great; although I'm not sure he's forgiven you for not talking to him on the phone yesterday."

"Ah, so we're both in the doghouse," Glen smiled. "At least I can probably bribe my way out of mine a lot cheaper than you'll get out of yours." His smile faded as he locked eyes with Grissom. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"Probably not," Grissom told him honestly. "Most people find formal IDs confronting; seeing someone you know and love laid out like that can be a hard thing to deal with." He sighed. "A lot is going to depend on how Melissa died and the fact that we're meeting up with a detective screams suspicious death to me so it's probably better to prepare yourself for the worst." Seeing the dread on the other man's face, he reached out and placed his hand lightly on his forearm. "I can come in with you if you like or even do the identification myself if you really can't face it."

"No, I can do it," Glen swallowed then gave his head a determined shake. "She put me through a lot before, during and after our marriage," he sighed heavily. "But, just like you, I think I owe it to Mel to see this through." He shrugged. "I just wish it was over with, that's all."

"Well, that shouldn't be too hard to arrange," pulling his wallet from his pants pocket, Grissom nodded towards the front of the terminal building. "Come on, we'll sort out the rental car and head downtown instead of going to the hotel first; I think the sooner we do this the better, don't you?"

A/N2: Thanks for the beta, SylvieT :)