A/N: This chapter is isn't adult at all. Just letting you know.Thanks for reading and I can't wait to see what you guys have to say.
Chapter Six: When a Dog Runs at You…
"Why didn't you let me know that you were sending the helicopters up?" Grissom's anger echoed off the walls of Conrad Ecklie's office. "I can't believe this!"
"Gil, calm down. Look at yourself! You're edgy, you're exhausted… you look like you're about to snap."
"I'm snapping right now, Conrad!"
"Exactly why I wasn't about to put you in a helicopter," responded the Assistant Director.
Grissom turned this over and paced the short distance of the room with his fingers pressing against his forehead. His head was throbbing. He wished Catherine would get back with his meds.
With unmistakable hopelessness, Grissom spoke to no one in particular, his eyes set emptily on a spot behind Ecklie's head, "Now all I can do is wait."
He was very aware of how his behavior looked to his boss, but he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.
After a silent moment, Grissom's eyes flicked up to meet Ecklie's. The man looked strangely regretful and speechless. He gave a quick shake of his head and looked up at Grissom. "Look, Gil…" He paused. "I think they'll find something up there. I have a lot of confidence in that, and we will know as soon as they do."
Grissom nodded and muttered, "I'll be in my office."
Completely helpless, he thought as he retreated.
He entered his office and sat down at his desk. He pulled the mini crime scene—Sara's crime scene—in front of him.
Hodges was testing the sand, but Grissom knew, just knew, it would be fruitless.
Brass and Warrick were at Natalie's apartment going through her things, seeing what they could find. Grissom hadn't been invited.
Nick and Greg were still looking for possible tow truck services Natalie could have used. Nothing was coming up. Grissom's mind wouldn't focus enough to participate with them.
He had never felt so utterly helpless.
Despair seized him in a consuming wave when he looked, really looked, at the tiny Sara doll before him. Its right hand moved methodically in the tiny grains of sand. Clenching and unclenching, desperately trying to find something solid to cling to.
Life perhaps.
She wasn't dead, he knew this. He knew this because it was all he allowed himself to know. He just didn't feel it like he knew it.
A soft knock at his open door caught his weary attention and he looked up to see Catherine standing there with a pitiful look. A skinny orange bottle in one hand, a brown paper bag and bottle of water in the other.
"Your medicine," she said, holding up the bottle. "And something to eat." She held up the hand that carried the water and bag.
"Thank you." He took the medicine and bottle of water gratefully and popped the pills. "Though I'm not sure what good they'll do me, I'm so far gone."
He wasn't sure why he had said it, but felt an odd sense of relief at the admission that he felt so out of it. But he hadn't much to hide from the woman sitting on the edge of her seat in front of him
"You're welcome." She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and he could sense her hesitance, but he had no reason to urge her on. "I know Jim and Warrick are at Natalie's apartment. I think I'm gonna head over there and see if I can be of some help… why don't you come?"
Grissom capped the water bottle and looked at her for a moment. He felt like a completely different man than he had been even twenty-four hours ago.
"Jim, ah," he cleared his throat uneasily, "Jim warned be against going over there. There are things…"
"Oh." Catherin's face fell with regret.
His voice rose with frustration as he looked away from her and down at his desk. "I would be there. I would be doing something but everyone's treating me like a ticking time bomb and if I'm truly honest… Jim's right, Ecklie's right…I'm." He stopped himself and dropped his head heavily into his hands. "I'm unstable right now, Catherine."
Catherine used her best mother voice, "It's understandable, Gil."
He looked up at her quickly. "No, it isn't! Sara needs me to keep it together and I can't think Catherine. I can't stop thinking about her out there, alone, getting crushed by a car, long enough to be of any use! I'm completely helpless."
Catherine looked as speechless as he had ever seen her. Tears began rising in his eyes, an altogether foreign feeling, and he looked away again. Such a display of raw emotion was completely exceptional from him. The vulnerability he was experiencing only added to his frustration. But it was truly as if a dam had been broken.
"Catherine," he began, his voice low and depleted of energy, "If anything happens to her, I… I don't know what I'll do…"
"Stop thinking that way, okay?" She paused and Grissom nodded ambiguously, tears still brimming in his eyes. He reluctantly put his fingers on his eyes to wipe them away roughly as if her were punishing them for daring to cry. Catherine asked in a strained, happy voice, "Hey! What's your dog's name?"
Grissom knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to steer his thoughts from the desert and Sara and heavy cars. He knew it had nothing to do with her curiosity. So, he bit. "Bruno." His voice was husky with emotion and he regretted having opened his mouth at all.
"Did you name him that?... or did Sara?"
He closed his eyes and thought he felt himself smile. "Neither."
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We all have a sickness
That cleverly attaches and multiplies
No matter how we try
We all have someone that digs at us
At least we dig each other
"Dig" (Incubus)
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Sara knelt beside Grissom who was perched beside the body of an attractive thirty-something blonde woman with three very unattractive bullet holes in her chest. Her creamy white skin was a stark contrast to the abnormally green grass. It was a grim sight, but nothing they weren't more than used to.
Unfortunately, the body had been found by an eleven year old girl—the daughter of the dead woman they were hovering over.
Sara gave a sad sort of sigh and spoke, the emotion deliberately avoided, "Brass says that the girl witnessed the shooting."
Grissom turned to look at her and she turned to look at him. For a moment he was silent, but the light in her eyes was dim and it disturbed him. He knew he couldn't say what he wanted to say, so he simply nodded dismally. "She won't say anything about the man who did it, though."
Sara looked back down at the body and rose to her feet. Grissom's eyes followed her. "Great," she whispered disdainfully.
He stood up with her and wrinkled his brow, hoping she would see his concern for her. So maybe she could confirm for him voluntarily that she had no intention of letting this case get to her. So he wouldn't have to ask.
"Are you going back with the body?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Okay," she answered quickly. Too quickly.
"Nick's on his way to help you process the house."
She nodded and looked away, feigning indifference to the situation. He could tell. He knew her.
"Are you okay, Sara?"
She frowned at his question, but her tone was weightless. "Of course."
He expected that response, but he had a good handle on the signs that she was distraught over something. He frowned back at her and opened his mouth tentatively to speak, careful of his word choice. "I like to think that by now, I have a pretty good idea of when something is bothering you. I'd understand if this case bothers you."
She stared at him for a moment, then, to his surprise, smiled crookedly. "There's no point in pretending this isn't such a sad situation. I know it. You know it." She paused and added weakly, "and the girl knows it."
He turned this over and looked at her softly. "Precisely why I can find someone else… if you'd like."
"No. I wouldn't."
Grissom tightened his lips and nodded.
"It bothers me," she added, "but I can still do my job."
"Of course you can," he responded in a low, gentle voice. "I know that."
She smiled and narrowed her eyes, silently thanking him for his concern. "Good. Now I'm going to print that door over there." She picked up her kit and pointed to the wooden door of the privacy fence surrounding the back yard.
"Okay."
Grissom kneeled back down to the body and continued studying it while Sara walked the few feet to the door. His eyes were involuntarily drawn back to his significant other as she began dusting the inside latch of the door. He smiled and she looked back over at him, smiling as well.
After a moment, Sara's eyebrows furrowed and she cocked her head to the side. "Did you hear that?" she asked.
Grissom shook his head. He hadn't heard anything. Another moment passed and Grissom heard, quite clearly, the short bark of a dog.
"Did they have a dog?" she asked him.
Grissom looked around for a dog dish or any other sign that a dog lived there, but found nothing. "I don't know."
She took the tip of the latch gingerly between her gloved fingers and unlatched the door. Before she could open it, two rather large paws pushed open the heavy door and knocking Sara over. Grissom stood up, alarmed, as the dog bounded inside the yard. The police officer that had been standing near the back door caught the dog by the collar. Grissom walked briskly over to a laughing Sara and held out his hand for her to grab. She was still laughing as he pulled her to her feet.
He loved the sound of her laughter.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, unable to keep the small smile from forming on his lips.
"Nah," she said, wiping the dirt from her backside. "But that was quite a surprise."
He looked over to the dog and the police officer and called out in their direction. "Does he have any ID?"
"Yeah, he lives here!" the officer called back, pulling the metal identification tag around for them to see.
Grissom and Sara walked over to the dog and Sara began running her hand over his head.
"Careful," Grissom warned.
"Hey, boy! You're a big guy aren't you?" Sara cooed, scratching his under his chin roughly. The dog's heavy tail pounded against the wooden deck. She fingered the metal tag and read out loud. "Bruno." She looked up at Grissom, smiling. "Dog's name is Bruno."
Grissom looked the dog over and grunted. "Fitting, somehow."
---
"Lydia, do you think you could help us identify the man who hurt your mom?" Sara gently asked the girl sitting across the table of her and Grissom.
The girl looked away, tears drying on her cheeks, but didn't answer.
"I promise you, this man cannot hurt you. But we really need your help, Lydia," Sara continued.
Grissom looked over at Sara, hoping that the girl would find the courage to help them. Not only for the justice of her mother, but the cathartics of herself and Sara.
Lydia sniffled and wiped her cheeks. Finally, she looked up at Sara and spoke, "Did you find my dog, Bruno? He ran away, but he always comes back." Her voice was strangely solid and lacking in sadness.
Grissom was about to respond but decided to let Sara do all of the talking. He knew that later one, when Sara grumbled about being horrible with children, he could refer her to this particular instant.
Sara nodded and smiled. "We sure did. He did come back."
Lydia nodded as if she already knew the answer to her question. "Bruno is actually his dog, not mine. But he's mean to him."
Sara cocked her head to the side curiously. "Who?"
"Him." Lydia looked down at the table and pulled at her fingers nervously. "I can't tell you."
Sara sighed quietly and waited a moment, the said gently, "He can't hurt you, Lydia."
The believed murderer was already in custody. The evidence against him wasn't altogether overwhelming considering his fingerprints and DNA could be easily explained. It was her mother's boyfriend, so Grissom was sure that Lydia's reluctance to identify him came from a sense of protection. But it could very well be because he threatened her life. And if that were the case, convincing children, and sometimes adults, that identifying them would put them behind bars, was even tougher.
New tears began running down Lydia's face and Sara shot a sympathetic look to Grissom, then back at the child.
"He said he'd kill me and then he would kill Bruno if I told anyone," the girl murmured faintly.
"We have Bruno and we have you and once you identify him, we'll have him too, for good," Sara insisted and she leaned forward on the table.
"I don't want him to kill Bruno!" she cried, as if she hadn't even heard Sara.
"Once you look at these men and tell us if one of them is him, then he will be put away forever. He won't be able to hurt Bruno or anyone." She paused and looked back at Grissom then back at the girl. "Do you think you can do that, Lydia?"
A heavy moment passed in silence while Lydia stared at the table and Sara looked questioningly at the girl's advocate. The woman frowned at Sara then down at Lydia. Grissom watched as the girl steeled herself as if coming to a sudden realization. She looked up slowly and her eyebrows drew together in seriousness. "I can do it," she said.
They walked down the hallway slowly. Lydia stood closely beside Sara and Sara must have noticed because she smiled down at her, a knowing smile, and touched Lydia on the shoulder reassuringly.
Not good with children, thought Grissom, with a smile to himself.
He looked down just as the girl looked up at Sara and asked her quietly, "What's going to happen to me?" She began crying as if the realization that she was alone had just sunk in.
Sara's face fell and her eyes darted quickly to Grissom and Brass who were looking back with sympathetic eyes. They nodded knowingly as Sara touched the girl's shoulder again directed the girl to the side of the hallway. She stopped and kneeled down to her level. Grissom's heart ached as he listened to Sara console the girl.
"It's going to be okay eventually, Lydia," Sara began in a soft, reassuring voice.
"How do you know?"
Sara looked as if she was at a loss, but after a moment, she responded, "Just trust me. I've been in a similar situation."
The girl wiped at her face, her cries stopping. "You have?"
"Yeah, and it can be scary, I know. But you're never going to be alone."
"But what's going to happen to me?" Lydia pleaded.
Sara smiled crookedly and sighed. "We're going to try and find some family members you can live with. Do you know of any family members?"
Lydia nodded. "My aunt in uncle in California."
Sara continued smiling. "California, huh? Are they nice?"
Lydia nodded. "They're kinda old, though."
Sara chuckled. "How old?"
"Like…" she shrugged, "fifty."
Sara laughed again. "That's not too old. It'll all work out. You'll see." She paused and smiled. "And maybe they would even let you bring Bruno along."
Lydia smiled for a moment, looking past Sara, then her face fell and she spoke solemnly, "No, I don't want to bring Bruno."
"Why?"
"I don't think he'd be safe with me. He'd be safer with you."
Sara sighed and looked speechless. "Lydia—"
"You'll take care of him for me, won't you?" Lydia asked, as if she already knew the answer.
Grissom knew, just as Sara did, that a simple "yes" would ease the girls mind. But he also knew that it was difficult for Sara to lie, even when it was a simple white one. She would feel bad about it, he knew.
Still she smiled and nodded to Lydia. "Of course I will."
The little girl smiled, a broad, thankful smile, and suddenly threw herself around Sara's neck, catching her off guard. Sara's eyes widened in surprise, and then she hugged the girl back. Grissom smiled slightly then looked over at Jim. Jim smiled back at catching this rare and touching moment.
They returned and began walking down the hallway again. Sara looked over at Grissom and he smiled knowingly. She simply shrugged and sighed as if saying "what else could I say?" But he knew she was sad.
Grissom was overcome with a loving feeling for the woman walking beside him and he had never come to a conclusion quite so quickly in his life.
----
Sara leaned over and planted a kiss on Grissom's cheek before sinking into the couch and laying her head on his lap. She closed her eyes while he continued reading his book.
"Did you have fun?" he asked and began running his fingers through her dark hair.
"I guess." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "You should have come."
He shrugged and lifted his hand from her hair to turn a page. "I wasn't feeling up to it, I suppose."
Truth was, he had lucked out. Catherine had invited Sara and the rest of the team to dinner. Sara had accepted the invitation but Grissom had other plans. It was the perfect time to retrieve Bruno from the animal shelter and surprise Sara with him when she got home. He was just hoping that the dog wouldn't bark and blow his cover before he got a chance to surprise her.
"What have you been doing?" she asked, closing her eyes again.
"Just relaxing," he said nonchalantly and turned another page.
"That was a pretty rough case. Easy solve, but still—" She stopped and looked up at him with troubled eyes.
He put the book down and took his glasses off. "I know." A moment passed as his fingers moved tenderly through her locks.
"I kind of lied to the girl about the dog, but I guess this is one of those instances where what she doesn't know won't hurt her." She paused and closed her eyes again. "Someone else will take care of him," she added as if she had already convinced herself of this.
Grissom smiled to himself and lifted her head to lift himself from the couch. Her eyes shot open in confusion as he walked across the living room, into the kitchen, and to the door of the large pantry where Bruno was currently being held captive.
"That's true," he said with his hand on the knob, "The girl won't know either way. Bruno, however—" He stopped and she grimaced. He turned the knob and opened the door. "Will," he finished and looked into the pantry. The dog was lying placidly on his side next to his new food and water bowl. He looked up at Grissom and yawned, his tail hammering the linoleum of the floor.
Grissom whistled for him and the dog immediately got to his feet and started at him happily. Grissom looked up at Sara's confused expression and laughed. The dog exited the pantry completely and followed Grissom back towards the living room where Sara was still sitting and staring dumbly at them.
She smiled a little, then a lot. She was beaming when she looked up at Grissom, confounded, and said, "You didn't!"
"I did," he nodded, patting the dogs head.
Sara lifted herself from the couch and walked over to where Grissom stood. Bruno sat loyally at his side as if he had known him since he was a puppy. She threw her arms around the boxer's humongous neck and kissed him.
"Grissom—" she started, then looked up at him speechless.
It was completely worth it, just to see the look on her face in that moment. Her eyes were big and slightly watery, not unlike Bruno's. She was smiling at him—that adorable, gap-toothed smile that he lived for. The smile that, when directed at him, gave him immense hope, like perhaps he wasn't so bad at this relationship thing after all.
"I don't know what to say," she said quietly and rose to Grissom's level. She kissed him lightly on the mouth and hugged him lovingly. "Thank you."
He hugged her back and kissed her on the temple. "You're very welcome," he said softly into her hair and pulled back. "Now you can keep your promise to Lydia."
She sighed happily and nodded. She bent back down to scratch under the dog's chin. She cooed "good boy" over and over again as the dog lifted his chin blissfully.
"Unless, of course, I'm going to have to compete for your affection," Grissom teased with a smile.
She looked up at him, stopping her ministrations on Bruno's fur. Bruno began lapping wetly at Sara's fingers and Sara laughed a beautiful, freeing laugh that mirrored her gap-toothed smile. She stood up and looked at her hand with feigned disgust.
Then, with another laugh, she said, "Don't worry, you're still the better kisser."
Grissom couldn't help but chuckle at this and he bent down to capture her lips in a sweet, tender kiss. After a moment, his tongue met her lips and he gave them a short, teasing lick. She laughed against his mouth and deepened the kiss.
They kissed to the sound of Bruno's tail thumping on the hardwood floors.
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"Grissom! Hey!" Catherine's voice reverberated in Grissom's ears, pulling him harshly from his beautiful memory. "Are you okay?"
He didn't pull his eyes from his desk. "He was a… gift to her. She fell in love with him." He paused and let out a sad little laugh. "He follows me everywhere, though."
He couldn't look up at Catherine, but he heard her push herself from her chair. She rounded his desk and crouched down beside him. Her hand landed on his and she squeezed gently.
He realized that he must have been cold because her hand was abnormally warm against his skin. He put his head in his free hand and leaned over on his desk, sighing miserably. "I'm not used to people treating me this way. I'm not really—" He stopped and swallowed his words, whatever they were going to be.
A moment of companionable silence followed. It was broken by the sound of Conrad Ecklie's voice.
"Gil! Catherine! The helicopters spotted an upturned car—"
"Oh thank God!" Grissom blurted out. His head snapped up so fast that, if he had cared to notice, he would have realized it hurt.
But he didn't care about anything else except what Conrad had to say.
"There's already a crane on the way to lift the car…" Ecklie continued as Grissom rushed over to him.
"Where? How—How far?"
Ecklie handed him a piece of paper. "And medevac is on the way as well…" Grissom grabbed the paper and pushed past him and into the hall. "Gil!"
"Gil, wait!" Catherine yelled out, rushing out towards him with Ecklie.
Ecklie began in an uncharacteristic tentative voice, "Maybe you should meet them at the hospital. You aren't going to be able to do anything there—"
Grissom stared at him ridiculously. Maybe he doesn't get it after all, Grissom thought. "I can be there, Conrad," he responded with a shake of his head and a turn of his heel.
Catherine rushed up beside him "Wait! Gil. Don't—"
"Stop trying to stop me, Catherine! You of all people should—"
She grabbed the keys from his hand. "Let me drive, okay?"
To be continued…