Title: Catherine Willows has a Secret
Author: WaywardKitty
Rating: Teen
Classification: Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.
Spoilers: Anything Thru LLV is fair game.
Summary: Catherine Willows had been keeping a secret about her friends for quite some time now. Yes, she was capable of keeping a secret, when she approved. But this secret had spawned another secret and now she can't keep her mouth shut.
Status: WIP
Note: Sorry for the delay. Life intruded.
-----------------------------------------------
As much as Sara was glad Grissom had come, she was glad to have him out of her apartment for an hour or so. Lately, she had poured so much energy into worrying about being pregnant and whether he would react badly. She had to regroup and the shower was just the place to do it.
He had handled the news well, she thought, as she reveled in the steam, and she felt like they had cleared a huge hurdle. Of course, they were both going to have doubts and anxiety along the way, but at least they could start moving forward and making plans. There were living arrangements to make, people to tell, baby gear to buy, work issues to navigate…
While most of this stuff was just details, the work thing was going to be huge. His offer to go with whatever she wanted, even if that was him staying home, had floored her. What kind of drugs was he on? Was this his brain on sabbatical? Had he gone off to find himself only to discover a weird, hypersensitive, overly-selfless alter-ego in him? Had he just been caught up in the moment? Was Grissom even capable of letting himself get that caught up in the moment.
Oh, yes, they were going to have a nice long talk about the last two weeks. She toweled off, got dressed and wandered into the kitchen for a few crackers. It was then that she noticed his text message. Better check in with him. Although she teased him about whether he was panicking, she secretly thought it was a good sign. He was acting more like himself and less like the weird, hypersensitive, overly-selfless alter-ego, which she decided to name WHOA.
Sara had catalogued several aspects of Grissom so far – WHOA was entirely new. There was GIL (Gil in love), MUNI (miserable unemotional narcissistic introvert), EBS (ecstatic boy scientist), GOPS (grumpy overworked paperwork supervisor), The Sex God…those were just the most common ones…
She needed to occupy her mind with something else. She dropped into her chair and picked up the latest forensic journal.
"Hi, hon," he said, letting himself in, some time later.
"Hey."
He put away the perishables and made his way to couch. "How are you feeling?"
"Pretty good. It kind of comes and goes, on no particular schedule."
He opened the plastic shopping bag, pulled out the pregnancy test and put the box on the coffee table. They both stared at it for a moment.
"I guess I might as well get this over with," Sara said, scooping up the box and heading for the bathroom.
"Need any help?" He trailed after her.
"No way." She turned and glared at him.
"Can I at least watch the… y'know the test… process. Just process." It was his EBS persona—she never could resist it.
Sara narrowed her eyes at him and said, "Wait out here." She closed the door. Of course using the kit took longer than just going to the bathroom, she could hear him pacing outside the door and it made her nervous. That didn't help move things along.
"Honey?" he called.
"Give me a minute here, will you." She finished up the test and cleaned up before she let him inside. The test stick sat on the edge of the sink. They both just stood there mutely, as they watched the positive indicator line appear. Sara was the first to move, turning to wrap her arms around him. She rubbed his back and he stroked her hair.
"Why don't we go sit down?" said Grissom. When they reached the couch, he sat and she curled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Wow," said Sara. "I'm so overwhelmed right now I don't know what to feel." Grissom nodded and took her hand in his.
"Sara, do you want a child?"
"In general or this child in particular?"
"Either. Both."
"If you had asked me a year or two ago if I wanted kids someday, I would have given you reasons why it would be a bad idea instead of answering the question. My family, my job… But now…" She turned in his arms to look him in the eye. "I don't know when things changed for me, Griss, but at some point I stopped just reacting and letting my past determine my future. I started to consider: When I get to the end of my life, what do I want to have accomplished? I think if I got to the end of my life without having kids, I would feel like I had missed out on something. Something, I don't know, fundamental to being human. And this child… It's yours and mine and it was conceived in love. Isn't that what it's all about?"
"Yeah. I suppose it is."
"What about you?"
"When I was younger, I guess I kind of assumed I'd have a family someday. At some point, I just accepted that it wasn't going to happen. I was OK with that. Really. But this child has me reconsidering…just like being you and going away has made me reconsider… things."
"I guess this really couldn't have happened at a worse time for you." Sara shifted to rest her head on his shoulder again. The truth was that she wasn't sure she wanted to look at him when he answered.
"Actually, maybe it's perfect timing." He pulled away from her to see her face as he told her: "Sara, I've been thinking about making some changes to my life when I come back."
"Changes." Her expression was blank. A feeling of dread washed over her.
"Sara, I just can't keep working like I have been." He ducked his head. "I'm getting older – I know you don't like me to say that, but it matters in this line of work. The hours, the physical demands of collecting evidence, the stress of dealing with the dregs of society."
"So delegate more," she said. She stroked his check and raised his face. "Delegate the fieldwork and interviews with the worst perps."
"And what? End up a paper pusher? I never wanted to be supervisor." He pulled away and went to her window. "I'm so tired dealing with management and the politics."
"What do you want to do?"
He gave a humorless chuckle. "Be a lab rat. Write books and articles. Be a scientist for Christ sake."
"So you're leaving."
He turned to face her once again, smiling faintly. "See that's the thing. I don't want to leave. I want to stay, and not be a supervisor and just do as I damn well please." Sara sucked in her lips to prevent a smirk from developing. "Don't laugh. I know it's completely unrealistic, but it's part of the process—I'm just… dreaming here. OK? And I'm dreaming of raising this child with you."
"Were you serious, before, about staying home with the kid."
"That might have been hyperbole," he said sheepishly.
"Thank God! Did you think I wanted to hear that or something? I love working with you. I love you when you're working."
He considered her question for a moment. "I think I wanted hear it. I've been trying to stretch my idea of what the future could look like." He made his way back to her and held her like his life depended on it.
After a while, Sara got up to get a drink of water.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Grissom said. "I ran into Brass at the store and he…he saw what I was buying."
"Oh, no." She plopped down on the couch next to him and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah. The good news for you is that he threatened to defend your honor if I screw up." He looked exceeding amused.
She was not amused. "Great. Catherine knows. Brass knows. It won't take long for this to hit the grapevine… Damn! I thought I'd…we'd have more time…be fore we had to deal with people and answer nosy questions."
Grissom shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, Catherine promised not to say anything. And I'm pretty sure Brass won't."
Sara frowned at him. "When did Catherine…"
Grissom's sheepish look made a reappearance. "I…uh…called her when I was out. I was sort of… y'know… panicking."
Sara smiled. "Hmmm. Well, I am glad you have someone to talk with about this."
His face fell into a scowl of concern. "But you don't. I wish you did. Is there someone you'd like to tell?"
"I don't know. I'll think about it."
"There is one person I'd like to tell – if it's OK with you," he said, looking at her hopefully. "My mom."
"Your mom."
"Please?" He took her hand and gave her puppy dog eyes. "She's been bugging me to give her a grandchild for decades."
"Griss. I've never even met you mom. What's she going to think of me?" Sara scrubbed her face with one hand.
"She's going to love you more than me for having my child. Seriously. You've communicated with her, and she really likes you already."
Sara wistfully replied, "I just wish I could have met her before I get all fat and…"
"You want to meet her?" There was a sparkle in his eye that could only mean trouble.
"I'm sure I will someday."
"No, now. Do you want to meet her now?" Oh, yeah. Big trouble.
"How?" Sara looked at him, astounded that he could suggest such a thing, like she could just take off.
"Email Catherine. Tell her you can't be on call for the next two nights because you have personal business to take care of out of town. Turn off your phone and we'll drive to LA this evening. Better to ask forgiveness than permission."
"Griss…"
"I'm serious." He looked like a kid on his way to Disney.
"You are insane," she said, only half in jest.
"I suppose we could fly, but I'm not in a hurry to jump on another plane, we won't have worry about you having to use a barf bag, it would cost more, not that that's a problem, but with all the security measure these days, it's just as fast…"
"Fine!" When did he start overtalking?
"You'll go?" He gazed at her expectantly.
"Yes, I'll go." She smiled at him thinking, who is this person and what did he do with my quiet, gloomy entomologist?