Nights
Requirements:
Grissom has to be a rape victim
Someone has to "go to the bathroom" in their pants
A plane has to be involved somehow
Greg has to propose to Sara
Catherine has to have dinner with Warrick
Brass has to do some cocaine
Nick has to push Doc Robbins
And now on with the story…
::GRISSOM::
The night was winding down and the fireplace wasn't enough to calm him down tonight. The case was terrible, and he couldn't even sleep because he couldn't get it off his mind.
A little boy…molested…
Just like he had been all those years ago.
His 'uncle'…Or at least that's what his mother said he was.
When he finally told his mother was Uncle Joe had been up to, she screamed and cried and screamed some more. He thought it was his fault.
The night he told her, he dreamt of Uncle Joe again, waking up with soiled pants.
Though he was only a child, he was too embarrassed to tell his mother, especially after what had happened the night before.
He remembered hiding his wet underwear under his bed and putting on a fresh pair in an attempt to save face.
He had gone to Doc Robbins and saw the molested boy's body.
He reminded him so much of himself, only his name wasn't Gil.
It was Aaron. Aaron Gregory.
But to everyone in the lab, he was just another victim.
Is that what Grissom was??
Just a victim??
He sighed and shook his head, trying to extinguish the insistent exhaustion that was creeping in on him.
He didn't want to fall asleep, for fear that Uncle Joe was waiting for him in his subconscious, hiding behind his eyelids.
He shook his head once again and dreaded going back to work tomorrow.
::BROWN::
The plane was so crowded.
She couldn't believe this was happening all over again.
When she married Warrick, she thought it was for good.
This wasn't the first time she rushed into a marriage, but she thought it was going to work.
Then again, she did last time, too.
She always ended up going back to Phil…No matter how good a relationship seemed to be, it always ended up with her in Phil's arms.
Maybe the divorce was a good thing.
Her cell phone rang and she flipped it open and pressed it to her ear.
"Tina??"
That's all he had to say.
"I know, Phil…" She said, plugging her other ear against the persistent sobbing of a baby in the next row. "I'm on my way."
She hung up and sighed.
She wondered what Warrick was doing at that moment.
::WILLOWS AND BROWN::
This was just too much.
Her fantasy was playing out in front of her.
Warrick sat across from her, sipping a glass of wine, looking majestic in the flicker of the candle in the middle of the table.
Their eyes met and he looked at her like she was the only woman on earth.
"Are you okay??" She asked.
She felt it was the right thing to say.
"I'm great, Cath." He said back to her with a smirk, "It was an infatuation. All I had to do was realize something."
Catherine cocked her head, not understanding what he was getting at.
"Realized what??" She asked, after swallowing her sip of red wine.
"It's always been you." He replied, flashing her the smile that she woke up for.
He gently grabbed her hand from the table and planted a kiss on it.
Her fantasy was playing out in front of her.
This was just too much.
::BRASS::
The apartment wasn't much to look at.
According to the mirror, neither was he.
It lay on the table, enticing him with the thin line of white powder.
He could remember the short road that led him here.
He didn't want to blame it on Ellie, but it was the cocaine that he had stolen from her apartment that started it all. One night, in a moment of weakness and curiosity, he tried it.
It took away the loneliness of the divorce and the pain of a loveless daughter.
It worked better than the drinking did.
Now, he rolled up a dollar bill and snorted it in a familiar motion.
He sniffed vigorously as he raised his head from the mirror.
He sighed.
A couple more lines and he wouldn't miss her at all.
::STOKES::
Night shift was the worst.
Lethargy was creeping up on him and he was ready to give into it.
He thought of his bed back at the apartment and wiped his eyes.
Just a few more hours.
He just needed to find the actual cause of death of Aaron Gregory and he would allow himself to take a break.
Maybe the break would only be a quick cup of coffee in the lounge, but it would be welcome nonetheless.
He pushed open the door.
"Robbins, I need the COD for Aaron Gregory."
The doctor didn't look up from the middle-aged woman, looking severely beaten as well as deceased, lying on the table in front of him.
"Robbins, I said I need—"
"I heard you, Stokes. I've got a bus accident. I'm trying to clear the tables as quick as I can, okay??" Nick could hear the aggravation in Al's voice.
"Look, Doc," He said, trying to use his award-winning people skills, "Aaron's been on your slab since this morning and this accident didn't happen until early this evening."
"What I do in this room is my work, Nick. Do you understand that??"
"Yea, I understand, but don't you think a raped, murdered child takes precedence over a bus accident."
"Nothing takes precedence in here. Death is death, Nick."
"Well, Aaron died first. Why can't you just give me the COD so I can just get outta your hair??"
"Because you don't know what stress I'm under to clear the slabs!"
"Well you don't know the stress I'm under to get that damn COD, and I'm relying on you completely."
Al turned from his table and limped over to Nick, standing tall the entire time.
"Get away from me." Nick said, his rarely seen anger taking advantage of his tired state.
He pushed the doctor when he refused to back down, immediately feeling awful for pushing a man with only one good leg.
He left the room without a word.
He and Al both needed time to cool off.
This was going to be a long night.
::SANDERS AND SIDLE::
Sara thought today was going to be just another day.
She couldn't take her eyes off the ring in front of her.
Everything seemed to be going in slow motion.
"Will you marry me, Sara??" He asked.
She looked into his eyes.
He loved her.
She knew he did.
But, truth be told, she only settled for him when it was clear that Grissom couldn't open himself up to anyone…Though no one knew why.
When she closed her eyes and kissed him, she thought of Grissom's rare smile and intelligence.
She wondered if she could spend the rest of their lives picturing her husband as someone he wasn't.
She had been praised for her imagination for as long as she could remember.
"Yes." She said through a smile, "Yes, I will marry you."
He slid the ring on her finger and claimed her mouth in a smothering kiss.
Sara wondered what Grissom was doing at that moment.