SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 29 ~

A/N: It's been a while; sorry about that.

"Finished?"

"Hang on a second." Wearing navy blue pajama pants, a grey Northern Arizona University t-shirt and white sport socks, Grissom sat on top of his freshly made hospital bed and tapped the pen he held against the edge of the room's overbed table as he stared at the sheet of paper before him. "I've got one more to go and I'm tossing up between two at the moment."

"You don't have to have exactly three of each, you know." Folding her completed list in half, Sara dropped her pen back in her bag as she watched him. "Just think about the names we've been throwing around lately and write down however many you like the most." She held up a single finger in warning. "Just remember, you drop Persephone or anything like it on me again and you'll find yourself relinquishing your rights as far as naming this child is concerned."

"Fair enough," Grissom chuckled. "But you wanted my top three so that's what you're going to get." He quickly scribbled on the paper and carefully folded it one-handed before holding it out towards his wife. "There you go, three of each and not a Cadmus or Calliope to be seen."

A quick rap sounded from the doorway and Sara snatched the paper from his hand as Brass stepped into the room.

"Not disturbing anything, am I?" Jim's frown was an even mixture of amusement and curiosity as he watched Sara shove what she was holding hurriedly into her bag.

"Secret baby business," Grissom commented as he beckoned Brass into the room. "We're working on names."

"Well, if you want to run some by me, I'd be more than happy to -"

"No, we're fine," Sara blurted out quickly. "Thanks for the offer, Jim, but I'm sure it's something we can handle ourselves." She smiled warmly. "I thought you were coming by later this afternoon."

"So did I but Helen and Kaylee are busy getting the house back to normal, the catering company are busy taking down the marquee and removing all of their equipment from the yard and, apparently, I was getting in the way of everyone so I thought I'd drop by earlier." He gestured towards the black immobilizer sling that cradled Grissom's left arm securely against his chest. "How long are you stuck with that?"

"Not long." Reaching around his trussed arm, Grissom lightly rubbed his shoulder. "Since it was only a partial dislocation, it should only take a week or two to settle back into place." He shrugged lightly which elicited a sharply indrawn breath. "There doesn't seem to be any nerve or ligament damage so, provided I keep up with the strengthening exercises they're going to give me, it'll be good as new in four to six weeks.

"Well, that's not so bad." Brass pulled the spare visitor's chair closer to the bed and took a seat. "No more seizures?"

Grissom cautiously reclined against the pillows behind him. "Nothing since arriving here and I've been Valium free since…" He looked towards Sara.

"Three o'clock this morning according to the nurse I spoke with…" she glanced at her watch, "so almost ten hours now. None of the tests they've done have detected any definitive reason for them but the neurologist seems fairly confident that it's not epilepsy so that's good news."

"And your heart?"

"That's one we can't answer yet," Grissom replied. "I had an ECG and ultrasound late last night and was supposed to see the cardiologist for a stress test this morning but, apparently, he wants to hold off for a while. I'm not sure what that actually means but, if he's not in any hurry to do it, I'm going to assume there's no real emergency."

"I guess that makes sense," Jim nodded his agreement. "So, basically, you're lying around here wasting everyone's time."

"Well, I've got a headache I can't shift, every muscle in my body hurts like hell and I feel like I could sleep for a week but, apart from all that, yeah, I guess I am." The smile faded as he suddenly sobered. "Look, Jim, about yesterday-"

"Whoa!" Brass held up a restraining finger. "Before you go any further, Helen has given me instructions to grab hold of your left hand and yank your arm for all I'm worth if it even looks like you're going to apologize again so, for your own sake, don't say another word, okay?" He smiled reassuringly. "It's fine, Gil, it really is, we got married and you're going to be fine so that's all that matters."

"I've got to make it up to you both though; how about we take you out to dinner to make amends? I'm out of here tomorrow and will probably be ordered to rest up at home for the rest of the week but, if the two of you are free next week, we could-"

"How about we make sure that everything is settled with you before we start making plans to hit the town," Sara suggested before turning her attention to Jim. "They're still doing four-hourly blood draws because some of his levels aren't quite what they should be and the doctor that was in here earlier mentioned that a lumbar puncture might be on the cards to see if an underlying infection is the culprit; apparently the current thinking is that this whole thing might have an environmental cause."

"Environmental?" Brass frowned and shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Neither do we really," Grissom admitted. "They clearly don't want to say anything until they've got more information but I had an epidemiologist in here a couple of hours ago wanting to know everything about my fieldwork so I'm guessing they think it may be something that I've come in contact with in the soil or water around Lake Mead or the Wash." He managed a one shouldered shrug. "Which would probably be good news for me but a potential nightmare for the city."

"Well, the city can look after itself," Jim opined as he shot Sara a conspiratorial wink. "The only thing that matters to us is getting you fit and well again."

"And I second that," Sara nodded determinedly. "The sooner we can get you out of here and back home the better." Leaning forward a little, she reached around and rubbed at her lower back. "I meant to call and change our Flagstaff reservation; I'll see if they can move it to the next weekend instead of this one coming."

"Don't do that, if I do get out of here tomorrow that gives me two whole days to take it easy at home and, by the time Friday rolls around, I'll probably kill for a change of scenery; I'll only have the shoulder to contend with by then and that's certainly no reason to put off the trip." Grissom cocked his head as he looked almost pleadingly at his wife. "We're going to pick up a birth certificate and do a little sight-seeing, remember, we're not spending the weekend skiing The Peaks."

"Ben's birth certificate?" Jim frowned. "Don't you already have that?"

"Not the new one that lists Sara as his mother," Grissom pointed out as he kept his attention fixed on her. "You've waited months for it, honey; we can go pick it up as soon as we get there and then book into the hotel and, if I need to, I promise I'll spend the rest of the day in bed."

"He's right, Sara, some time away would probably do all three of you good."

"Well…" Narrowing her eyes, she looked from one to the other and then winced as her fingers landed on a particularly tender spot. "I'll leave it for now but…" she locked all her attention on her husband, "we're going to need to clear it with your doctor before you leave here; the last thing I need is to have to go through all of this again when we're a four-hour drive from home."

'No one will be going through anything," Grissom assured her. "Given the number of tests they've run on me this morning, there's no way they're not going to come up with a diagnosis and, if needs be, a treatment plan." He watched as she continued to rub at her back. "You want to go walk that off?"

"I will in a minute," she promised. "I need to grab a drink anyway."

"You okay?" Brass frowned in concern as she eased herself back in the chair.

"Yeah, just a little sore." Sara smiled self-consciously. "Between the uncomfortable chairs in this place, sharing a bed with a two-year-old who spends the entire night wriggling his way from one end of the mattress to the other and carrying a child that, I'm convinced, is in training for a. gymnastics team I really can't catch a break at the moment." She laughed. "There's also the fact that, as much as I love Lily, if she offers to do something for me, get something for me or make something for me one more time, I'm probably going to scream." She looked back at Grissom. "Which reminds me, it's her birthday next week and I'd really like to get her something special but it's something we both have to agree on."

"You want her to move in with us?" Grissom joked. "Because I think Catherine would have something to say about that."

"No doubt she would but, no, it's not that; it is something we'll need to discuss though."

"Sounds intriguing." Grissom looked at the tray table before him as a high-pitched beep sounded and, grabbing his cellphone, quickly scanned the message. "Who's Ted Hardeen?"

"I have no idea," Sara shook her head. "Why?"

"Because, apparently, we recommended our security company to him and, according to this text, if he signs up with them, we'll get our next month's monitoring for free." He looked up, clearly bemused. "The problem being I never recommended anything to anyone."

"Neither did I," Sara frowned. "Are you sure it's meant for us?"

"Well, the message starts with 'Hi Gil'."

"That's odd," she shrugged. "Just ignore it, I'll give them a call tomorrow." She smiled disarmingly at Brass. "And speaking of tomorrow; are you free in the afternoon, Jim?"

"I can be," he nodded. "Since we decided to postpone our honeymoon for a couple of months and Helen's back at work tomorrow, I've got the rest of this week to myself." He returned her grin. "Why? What are you after?"

"A babysitter of sorts." Keeping her attention fixed on Brass, she cocked her head towards her husband. "I need someone to come in and stay with him tomorrow while I spend the afternoon at Ben's daycare."

"I do not need a babysitter!" Grissom bristled. "I am more than capable of being left here by myself."

"I know, I know," Sara conceded. "It's just in case they do decide to release you when no one's here; if they do that, you're not going to want to hang around waiting for me to get here and I do not want you taking off by yourself."

"Sara, I am fully capable of-"

"I know you are and that's what worries me; I've had enough stress already this week, I don't need anymore." She sighed heavily. "Just humor me, please."

"It's fine," Jim nodded as he looked from one to the other. "I'm more than happy to help out. What time do you want me here?"

"Well, I have to leave at around one so a little before that if you can manage it." She checked her pocket for change before pushing to her feet, placing both hands on her hips and leaned back in an attempt to ease the discomfort in her spine. "Ben's been spending time in the daycare nursery as a sort of baby desensitizing exercise and tomorrow he gets to watch me holding and feeding one which I'm convinced is something I'll struggle with more than he will."

"I told you before," Grissom rolled his eyes. "You're going to be fine."

"Every baby I've ever held has screamed the place down." She nodded towards the door. "I'm going to go for that walk."

"I'm willing to bet that was because you tensed up the minute they were put in your arms." Standing quickly, Brass held the door open for her. "They pick up on that instantly."

"And you had no trouble with Ben, remember; if anything, he couldn't wait to have you hold him." Her husband reminded her as she approached the exit. "Just go with it, honey; don't anticipate trouble and relax into it."

"Easier said than done." Smoothing the shirt she wore over the mound of her stomach, Sara chuckled. "But I'd better get the hang of it soon, I guess; we've got less than eight weeks until this one turns up and it's not like I can give him or her back the minute the screaming starts."

"Ah, that's going to be the easiest of the lot," Jim quipped as she stepped past him and into the corridor beyond. "I promise you, Sara, the minute that particular baby is in your arms, there is nothing in the world that will make you give it back."

"I'm not saying it isn't her, Conrad, what I am saying is that I'm not convinced that it is."

"Well that's about as clear as mud." Reaching out, Ecklie retrieved his coffee cup from the desk. "You're the one that blew the whistle on this, Catherine, it's a bit late to change your mind now."

"I know, I know, it's just…" she shook her head, clearly torn. "This is Sara we're talking about and, yes, there have been times in the past when she's been…" she struggled for an appropriate word, "challenging to get along with but the last word I'd ever use to describe her is homicidal."

"I'm sure there's people out there that would say the same about almost every person that finds themselves up on murder charges," Ecklie reasoned. "That doesn't make them any less guilty."

"But Sara's never going to hurt Grissom, the two of them have been through too much together for her to decide to end things like that." Catherine sighed wearily. "And she'd never put Ben in danger either which is precisely what she'd be doing if she was keeping, and using, some sort of drug around the house."

"Who's to say it's in the house?" Conrad questioned. "It could be in her locker here and she just decants a small amount into a baggie when she needs it." Both eyebrows rose in question. "When a married man ends up poisoned, who is the most likely suspect?

"The wife," Catherine conceded, "but- "

'But nothing, Cath; to poison someone you need access and opportunity and Sidle's had both."

"We don't even know that it is poison."

"That's true and, until we get something definitive, it's all speculation anyway." Ecklie shrugged as he took a sip. "Terrell give you any idea when he'd have the results?"

"No, and I'm not sure how fast Carson City works," Catherine rubbed at her eyes. "I know the samples arrived there first thing this morning and I made sure John knew I needed them done as a priority but with both blood and stomach contents to process along with their own cases, I'm afraid it may take a while."

Well, let's hope they're not too busy then." Leaning forward, Ecklie placed his cup back on the desk. "Although, if it had been me, I'd probably have run them through this lab at the same time."

"I wanted to ensure we were completely hands off on this, Conrad, the last thing we need is accusations of evidence tampering."

"Sensible, I guess." He nodded slowly. "Look, whatever way this goes today, I'm going to have to get some advice on how we proceed from here. Even if it turns out Sara has nothing to do with Grissom being ill there's still the matter of the password protected computer files; she was the only one accessing those particular cases at the time, there's no way she didn't have some sort of hand in it."

"I know," Catherine sighed heavily. "It's just- "

Her cellphone rang and, picking it up off the desk, Catherine read the caller ID before mouthing the words 'Carson City' before accepting the call.

"Hey, John."

She fell silent and Ecklie watched as she reached for a notepad.

"Okay." She scribbled on the paper as she listened closely to her caller and then nodded as she stared at the words she'd just written. "All right, can you email the full report to me please? Thanks for that, I owe you one."

Ending the call, she placed her head in her hands and sighed.

"Catherine?"

"They're done." She took a deep breath as her head came up and she locked eyes with the man across the desk. "According to John Terrell, fluorescence polarization immunoassays of Gil's blood and stomach contents came back showing strong traces of both digitoxigenin and oleondrosides while the powder I found in Sara's notebook turned out to be finely ground Cascabela Thevetia." She shook her head as the shock of the discover began to wear off. "She's killing him, Conrad; she's killing him with Yellow Oleander."

A/N: Extra special thanks to SylvieT for the beta. :)