Disclaimer: Not only do I not own anything related to CSI, I also own nothing about Jeopardy!

Chapter 11

Only Brass and Ecklie knew Grissom spent time on the set of one of America's top-rated game shows. It wasn't out of the ordinary when Grissom took a couple of days off, even if the purpose was to travel to California for another taping on the 21st, which he did without Brass.

But by the time he returned to work after his second taping (where he once again triumphed five times), the first and second episode had aired. He kept a low profile as he entered the lab, but it wasn't too long before someone stormed into his office.

"I have got to take you shopping."

Grissom looked up, not at all surprised at his visitor's presence. "Hello, Catherine."

"Gil, it's not that I was surprised to see you on television, I just can't believe you would go on television looking like you were dressed by a death row inmate."

"Actually, Brass was the one who picked my outfits."

"You let Brass pick what you would wear on national TV?"

This conversation was making Grissom feel more and more uncomfortable. What did he get himself into?

"I didn't let him. He just did. Look, it's a long story."

"Right, right," Catherine chided. "But I'm still taking you shopping. The shirt you wore last night was too big."

"Brass accidentally grabbed some of my bigger shirts," Grissom said, trying hard not to give anything away. "But Catherine, you have no idea whether I'm even going to be on the show after tomorrow."

"Oh please," with her hands on her hips. "Look, you don't have to tell me whether you won or not. But humor me. Let me buy something that won't make you look like an axe murderer."

"Now you're exaggerating," Grissom said and he stood, ready to leave his office.

The next few days Grissom dealt with his share of good-natured teasing. The worst came from his co-workers (shopping with Catherine was excruciating, comparable to the time he tried out for a baseball team and his mother went with him to buy a cup).

Working crime scenes for the night shift turned out to be a blessing, since Grissom rarely ran into someone who recognized him from a game show. And since he didn't go to many places besides the house and office, that gave him little chance to be "recognized," which was fine by Grissom, who kept on winning.

But there were people who recognized him, even if Grissom had no idea.

The Living Tree Diner is nestled in the redwoods off Highway 101 in Fortuna, Calif. It has its share of tourists, hikers and truckers, but also has a contingent of regulars who enjoy each other's company. At about 2 p.m., when there is a lull after the breakfast and lunch crowds, the group enjoys coffee and watches "Wheel of Fortune" and "Jeopardy!" that was TIVOed from the night before.

While watching the second show, the bell on the front door chimed. Mason, the diner's owner, was about to get up, but Jackie, his waitress, gave him a pat on the back. "I'll get it. I know you don't want to miss a minute."

"Thanks, sweetie," Mason said and he quickly sat back down.

"Hey there," Jackie said as she approached the patron. "You need a menu or would you like to sit down?"

"Oh, I'm driving down south, and thought I'd get some coffee and stuff to munch on," she said.

"Come over here, and I'll get you a fresh to-go cup," Jackie said.

Jeopardy! was back from commercial break and conversations ceased. Double Jeopardy! categories included "Poet-Pourri," "Shakespeare Operas," "Biblically Speaking," "All or 'Nut'ing," "A long time ago...", and "In a Galaxy Far, Far, Away."

"I bet he goes for Shakespeare first," Mason said.

"Naw, the science stuff first," said Vanessa as she reached for the pot of coffee on the table.

Jackie passed a 24-ounce cup of fresh coffee to the patron with a smile, and placed cream and sugar in front of her. Then Jackie faced the television. "He's generally good at any literature questions, not just Shakespeare."

The last place contestant requested "Poet-Pourri" for $400.

"Besides writing seafaring sagas, this New Yorker was a 'whale' of a poet," Trebek said. "Grissom?"

"Who is Herman Melville?"

The patron almost chocked on her coffee as she tested its sweetness. Gil's voice was unmistakable to Sara. She turned her attention to the television.

"Poet-Pourri for 800."

It was Gil. Oh my God, Sara thought.

"The Browning spent most of their married life in this country and both of them died there. ... Grissom?"

"What is Italy?"

Sara just couldn't believe her eyes. She stood fixed in her place with her eyes on the TV. She hadn't seen him for almost four months, and she couldn't believe she was seeing him now. He looked thinner, but still handsome and wonderful and a little melancholy. She laughed to herself as she watched him stand with such intensity, as he answered question after question correctly.

She recalled the last time they spoke — before the holidays. Grissom wanted to see her, but Sara wasn't ready. She knew if they got together, she would stay with him. And she wasn't ready. That is what she kept telling herself.

He didn't press, never did, but she knew she was disappointing him. So she didn't contact him much at all after that. Not because she didn't want to talk to him. Not because she didn't miss him, which she did.

It was because she didn't trust herself. She felt like she was almost there and she wanted to see this through. Not just for her, but for him, too.

And here she was staring at his face and being so far away. He just landed on the Daily Double. She loved the smirk that came over his face as he looked down at his hands.

"The category is Shakespeare Operas, how much would you like to wager, Grissom?"

Sara watched as Grissom glanced at what she was assumed the board in front of him. She knew what he was thinking -- still a lot of questions left on the board.

"Make it a true Daily Double, champ!" Mason yelled at the TV.

Sara knew his wager before it left his mouth.

"11,200, please."

The Living Tree Diner gang whooped!

"A true daily double. OK, here's your answer. This play begat at least two operas named 'Viola' and two named 'Malvolio.'"

Sara saw that smile, and a tear escaped her eye.

"What is 'Twelfth Night?'"

"Correct."

The studio audience applauded. The Living Tree Diner gang went nuts.

"I told you, he knows his Shakespeare," Mason said eagerly. "He might break $40,000 again today."

"Again?" Sara said out loud, without realizing it. The gang immediately turned around. "Oh," Sara said, tightening her grip on her coffee, "sorry, I haven't been watching this or any TV for a while."

Mason smiled. "Oh, this guy's a pip," he said, pointing to Grissom's screen image. "He's already won, what, almost $250,000?" The gang nodded in agreement. "Here, darling, have a seat."

Sara watched the rest of the show sitting next to Mason, who seemed to be Grissom's biggest fan. He informed her, during the commercial break, of course, of Grissom's progress on the show. This was his 10th appearance on the show.

"He's a bug guy and some kind of cop or something who likes to be called by his last name. And he tells the grossest stories about body parts and blood and stuff. Makes for good TV," Mason said, "He's a whiz at science, and literature questions and knows his art. And he's got the balls to make big bets. Makes sense, since he's from Vegas, you know."

Yes, she did know.

While Grissom didn't break $40,000 as Mason hoped, he did very well with a $37,500 total. Before the credits could roll, Jackie grabbed the TIVO remote control. "Hey, I think I saw one of those drawings he does with his total," she told her friends.

As Jackie rewound, Vanessa explained to Sara, "Sometimes he makes a little picture in the lower right hand corner of his screen. Sometimes you can't tell what it is. Jackie, you're better at making them out, what do they look like."

"Well, I think he made an ant that first day, and one time it looked like a caterpillar or a worm. I know one was definitely a butterfly and I swear a couple times before that was a cocoon and then a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. Wait! Here, look at that. What is that?"

They all moved their heads from side to side to get a better look, but Sara quickly spoke up.

"It's a bee," she said wistfully.

"Really," Jackie said. "Could be a mosquito or a fly."

"Or a wasp," Vanessa added.

"No, it's definitely a bee."

Sara paid for her coffee, got some snacks (including some fresh fruit from the owner's own refrigerator) and thanked everyone for their hospitality.

"Come back," Jackie said. "I'm sure that guy will be on for a while."

After Sara got situated in her rental car, she dialed the voice mail on her cellular and went to listen to a message she saved a couple of weeks ago.

"Hey, it's me. ... This is the first time in a while I've been able to reach you. I... I hope you're doing well. I miss you. ... So much. You wouldn't believe what's been going on lately. I've been... well, let's just say I'm doing something that is a little unbelievable. (he starts his nervous laugh, and Sara can envision him putting a hand on the back of his neck, smoothing the bottom of his curls). It's Jim's fault, but ... I just wish you were with me. You'd... you'd get a kick of out it. I don't know... maybe you'd even be proud of me. ... I love you. Take care, dear."

Sara saved the message again, and snapped her phone shut. She never understood the message until 20 minutes ago. She was ready to make a phone call herself.

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