They did what they could for Sara. Warrick quickly got a fire going, and Nick reported back that he had gotten through to the race authorities on the radio, and that they had promised a rescue party. It quickly became apparent, however – through multiple calls – that a rescue was not going to be possible that evening, and that it was too remote and too wild to rescue them in the dark, especially at such high altitude. The chopper rescue would resume at dawn. In the meantime, they would have to stick it out for the night.
It was not good news, but they had no choice. Nick and Warrick both went off to search for more firewood – enough to last them through a cold and frosty mountain night – and Grissom assisted Catherine with unfolding their tent and setting it up. It was basic, at best, but it at least offered some shelter from the wind, if they needed it. Sara, however, remained bedded down under the space blanket beside the flickering fire, and the flames glowed on her pale face as she hunkered down, morose and silent.
"Are you all right?" he asked, stopping to sit beside her.
"I'm coping," she said.
It was not a promising response. Sara had taken the news of their impending overnight stay reasonably well – in that she had at least said nothing. She had lowered her eyes and set her jaw, disappointed, but also unsurprised.
It was hard not to feel sorry for her.
"Take the blanket," Catherine said, holding out a folded grey blanket from the bottom of her pack.
"Thanks," he said.
He helped spread it over her, under the space blanket to help insulate her, and she did not react as he assisted.
"You can move into the tent if you like," he offered. "You might be more comfortable out of the wind."
"I'm fine here for now," she replied.
She stared into the flames, appearing both depressed and mesmerised, and concluding that it was apparently unlikely that he was going to get her talking, Grissom simply sat beside her on a dry patch of ground, and kept her company. Nick and Warrick soon returned with a load of firewood, and after dumping it under a nearby tree, Nick wandered over to extract a pair of fleece pants from his backpack, and promptly offered them to her.
"Here," he said. "It's nothing fancy, but it'll at least keep you warm."
"Thanks," she said.
She sat up, and with a cringing of her face that told him she was still in a world of pain, pushed back the blankets and reached for the proffered item.
"Come on, I'll give you a hand," Nick said.
He knelt down, helping to pull them gently over her sprained ankle and bare legs, and as he pulled them up her slender thighs, Grissom watched in exasperation as Nick tried to crack a joke.
"You know, I never thought I'd have you in my pants," he said, with a flirtatious smile.
"Nick," Grissom reprimanded.
He knew that Nick was only trying to cheer her up, but nevertheless he felt a surge of anger, and found himself glaring at him, wishing for a moment that Sara was not present.
"We're offering first aid," he said, very firmly. "We're not flirting with the victim."
"You need to work on your timing," Catherine said, equally disgusted.
He felt grateful for her support, but as he looked to Sara, found that she was actually smiling. It was not a full smile, but one side of her mouth turned up, and a flicker of amusement passed through her eyes.
"I can fight my own battles," she said after a minute. "But thanks."
Grissom for a moment wanted to banish Nick from the campsite, but the irrational urge passed as Sara lay back down again, and he covered her with the blankets and tucked her in.
For a while, after that, they had little to do but sit there. As the adrenaline passed, and they sat around the fire in silence, watching it flicker and crackle, Grissom finally started to relax for the first time. He sipped some water, and took in the colours and shadows of the night around them. The sun had now sunk behind them, and the mountain was a collection of dark and mysterious shadows. The feeling he had was one of complete isolation and loneliness, and as he sat there in awe, contemplating the wonders of nature at night, he was disappointed to find Nick breaking the silence again, apparently to have another round of flirting with Sara.
"You know, you can go in the tent if you want, get out of the wind," Nick offered, repeating his words from earlier.
"I'm fine," Sara said.
"Well, if you're going to stay out here, you should probably huddle up with one of us, stay warm, you know?"
"It's not a bad idea," Warrick said, encouraging. "Some body heat might help. Shelter you from those wind gusts."
The wind was indeed gusting up the landscape, and it fluttered at the edges of the space blanket, and Sara did not look comfortable, even though she was wrapped tight in a blanket underneath.
"I'm good," she said. She paused, then added, "The last thing I need is jokes in the lab."
"No jokes, we promise," Grissom said, and he reinforced it with a lethal look to the team, particularly the men.
"It's just first aid, it's not a big deal," Catherine added.
"It's just for warmth, c'mon," Nick said.
He held out one arm, as if to usher her closer to lay partially across his lap, and Grissom suddenly felt something tighten in his chest. Without thinking, he spoke.
"Actually, if we're going for warmth, it should probably be me," he said, with a conclusive tone.
"Why?" Catherine countered, deadpan. "Because you're hotter?"
She was joking, but this time Warrick intervened.
"I thought we said no jokes."
"This one's on him," Catherine replied, unrepentant.
"You know what I mean," he said, exasperated. "I have more surface area. Scientifically, I'm the best choice."
His three colleagues shrugged, apparently thinking it was up to Sara. But Sara herself just looked around at the crew, and appeared momentarily torn. After a moment she sighed, and spoke.
"Okay. But if I hear one wisecrack, we'll be having words."
"We're the soul of discretion," Grissom promised.
"What happens on the mountain stays on the mountain," Warrick added, kindly.
"You say that like something's going to happen," Catherine interjected, looking as though they'd all gone mad. "It's Grissom. And a cuddle. Not a romp in the sack."
She looked around at them, as if she had never been in such prudish company, and a moment later, Grissom had to concede that he had her to thank. After a brief moment Sara wriggled across into his lap, snuggling up there with her knees drawn up to her torso, and he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. No one joked. No one made a wisecrack. And in fact, after Catherine's comment, they didn't even seem to think it was a big deal.
I love writing Catherine, she's so awesome. And I enjoyed this chapter. Hope you did too! :)