Compromised Treatment
Chapter 3: Take Two

The heat of Las Vegas was just too much too bear even with the AC on its lowest temperature possible. Catherine's hands were fixed on the steering wheel, exhaling puffs of breaths. She glanced at the rear view mirror just as the traffic light turned bright red and the sight behind her got her thinking.

These two must have been together longer than I thought. A year, maybe? I mean, something tells me that a black dress does not – nor will never - belong inside Gil Grissom's closet unless… They ought to be living together right?

At the back seat of her SUV, Sara was in a deep slumber, cocooned in Grissom's arms which would be seemingly inappropriate to look at. His fingers were lazily drawing small circles on her back as he stared at the cars outside the window.

This is so not them; Grissom with his public display of affection and Sara looking, well… weak, is it?

Her thoughts suddenly drifted off when the continuous beeping sounds echoed behind her. She cursed silently before putting the car in full speed.

"Are you alright, Catherine?"

"Huh? Sure… yeah."

"Ok."

The ride from the hospital to Grissom's townhouse was relatively soundless. Catherine was greeted by the ludicrous heat as soon as her heels met the ground. She opened the back seat to let the couple out and proceeded to the trunk to get the remaining stuff. She heard Grissom faintly chanting Sara's name but no response was held. With a bag on her shoulder, she stopped at the opened door.

"Give me your keys so I can turn the AC on."

Grissom looked at the knocked up sleeping form in his arms which evidently can't be put to wake.

"What about Sara?"

Catherine flinched. "What you mean what about Sara? Be a gentleman. Pick her up. Carry her to bed. Geez, Gil! I hate this new side of you."

Leaving Grissom somewhat in a spiteful trance, Catherine took the opportunity to grab his keys lying carelessly on the car floor before strutting her way inside his house. Grissom adjusted his position several times, trying to figure out the best way to get Sara in the house without waking her up. It seemed awfully uncomfortable for him but it was not like he had never had the opportunity to pick up Sara from her feet.

He recalled the night after he took her on their third date. He pulled over to her apartment building and helped a limping Sara out of the car. She was barefooted and clutching a pair of red stilettos in her hand. He remembered her cursing all the way to the parking lot outside the restaurant, complaining how incredibly painful her feet were. Another curse, then a heel broke, and then another loud curse. The whole ride home was filled with Grissom's reprimands about buying those shoes and Sara's back talks. Once they slowly approached the elevator, the sign: 'Out of Order' went clearly into view; Sara sure was even more pissed than ever. But instead of a deafening curse, a rather loud high pitched squeal was heard when Grissom swiped Sara off her feet - cradling her in his arms – and took the God-knows-how-many flights of stairs there were.

"Oh for God's sake, Gil!"

Grissom was smiling to himself and evidently didn't notice Catherine come back. He shook the memory off and looked at her.

"Here. I'll steady her and you slip your arms behind her knees and on her back." Catherine pointed slowly, as if instructing to a damn foreigner.

Grissom carefully took Sara in his arms but not after hearing Catherine's sarcastic comments. They entered the house together and Grissom went straight to the bedroom. He noticed that the bed sheet was already pulled back the pillows were arranged in a way that Sara can lie down without any difficulties.

How long was I smiling goofily in that car? Grissom thought. He shrugged and gently laid Sara on the bed.

"You're on your own."

"Oh, hey."

"Already put her clothes in the hamper. I'll go get the other stuff in the car and just dump them in the living room and leave." She kissed his cheek. "Get some sleep."

And with that, Catherine was gone.

A few moments later, Grissom heard the front door creaking then shut. He took a trip around the house to get some essentials: a glass of water, Sara's medications, a face towel and a bowl of lukewarm water all placed on the bedside table. He then took the bed sheet and draped it over Sara and tucked her in. Just as he was about to shut door, he heard his name. He approached the bed and knelt beside it to meet Sara's eyes.

"Go back to sleep, dear." His voice soothed her.

"Where are we?"

"At home," he said, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

Sara stared at him for while. "I'm really happy today."

Grissom smiled, "I know you are."

"Greg's real… he's really something."

"He cares for you. And apparently so does the whole lab."

"You were right. It's one thing for people to say that they care about you but… a whole different thing to actually feel it. And I felt it, Griss."

A tear descended from Sara eye. Grissom nodded and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

"Is there anything else you need, Sara?"

She studied his face for a while and came into a conclusion that he was way more tired looking than she was. His eyes gave it all away. She knew that he had been extremely worried about her throughout the whole incident but the darker circles underneath his eyes just told her how much he loved her.

"Sleep with me."

Sara's abrupt insinuation somehow made Grissom's eyebrows to launch like a space shuttle. Smiling at his taken aback expression, (which clearly implying 'Are you insane?') she reached out to touch his cheek.

"That's not what I meant, silly. I meant, come join me here and get some sleep." Her finger began tracing the dark circles under his eyes. "Something tells me you haven't slept at all. Though it was a thoughtful gesture, I'd hate to be the one responsible for your migraines. And besides…"

Grissom looked at her pleading eyes.

"… I missed your presence in bed with me."

Sara needed to say no more when Grissom kicked his shoes off and stripped down to a plain t-shirt and boxers. He mimicked Sara's position: just lying perfectly still on the soft mattress, but his hands were slightly twitching, aching to hold her without hurting her in any way.

"I hate this stupid cast!" Sara declared as if she had read his mind. "I can't lie in bed with you the way I used to. I feel like I'm in a damn sarcophagus! You might as well wrap me up with some tissues."

"Hmm, and I'm certainly missing your vicious snuggling."

"So I've heard." Sara eyes averted the ceiling to look at him. "My parents constantly kept saying that when I was younger. You know you can always wake me up whenever that happens. I warned you about it, remember? I don't want you to feel like I'm some 500 pound woman invading your space."

"It wasn't being sarcastic, Sara. I never said I didn't like it, nor I'm complaining."

They spent the last few minutes just reading each other's eyes then Grissom leaned forward to capture her lips in a slow, lustful kiss. For someone who had been knocked out almost an hour ago, Sara returned the kiss with equal fervor.

"Sleep?"

With her eyes still closed, she nodded and felt Grissom's arm snaking across her stomach.

His breath nuzzled against her neck. "Rest well, my dear."

Gil Grissom stood thoughtfully in front of a furnished mahogany cabinet while his eyes admired the assortment of displays that Sara had organized on the shelves. The first bottom had all his entomology textbooks, neatly organized by volumes. On top of that were Sara's forensic journals. The third row proudly showed off both of their earned (glass-framed) work certificates, including Grissom's honorary (computer-printed) certificate of the Trigger. The top shelf was photographs which Grissom had picked out personally. On the right side was a framed portrait of him and on the right was of Sara's. In between was a bigger portrait of a little boy with big piercing blue eyes, dark hair and a gap-toothed smile. In front of the portraits was Sara's personal favorite. He took it in his hands and smoothed his fingers across the image.

Sara's Bear-y Cute Surprise
September 2007

The words were engraved on the silver frame just below the photo.

Just then, Grissom felt a continuous tug on his pants and looked down to see the little blue-eyed boy with a Spiderman toy in his hand.

"You said we're gonna visit mommy at the hospital." He quickly noticed the picture in Grissom's hand. "What's that?"

Grissom set the photo back on the shelf and picked up the boy in his arms.

"What's that thing on mommy's arm?"

"It's a cast. Doctors use it to wrap a part of your body when you're injured. Mommy had a broken bone at that time."

The little boy frowned. "Why? Was mommy in a fight?"

Grissom suddenly felt uncomfortable trying to find the right words. He didn't want to tell him that his mother was pinned under a car and left to die.

"Um, yeah, you could say that she was in a fight."

"Why is there a bear?"

"Your uncle Greg brought him to cheer mommy up."

"Did it work?"

"Yeah, it did."

Grissom glanced at the wall clock and set the kid back to the floor. "Go get your sweater and we'll go see Mommy, now."

He waited inside the car then few minutes later, the passenger door was opened.

"What'cha got there?"

"A card for Mommy," replied the little boy.

=x=x=

Dearest Mommy,

Daddy told me to pray every night for angels to come and make you feel better.

When you come home, daddy and I will make you as many strawberry pancakes as you want.

Get well soon, mommy!

Love always from,

Dylan, Daddy Gil and Hank.

Sara closed the card and fixed her watery eyes at the two boys – her two precious boys. When her mouth opened to say something, she choked on an involuntary sob instead.

"Lindsey made the card but I did the drawings and the writing. Daddy told me once that you're his special butterfly so I told Lindsey to make a butterfly-shaped card," explained the four year old boy.

Sara hugged her son tightly as she could. One thing she loved about Dylan was how much he resembled his father's way of deliberately surprising her.

"Mommy – can't – breathe!"

Sara giggled, "I'm sorry, baby. And thank you. That was very thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome!"

Grissom draped an arm around his wife's shoulders and kissed the top of her head, causing her to look up to him.

"Any news on my shooter?"

"Jim should be able to tell anytime soon. But Nick found the gun used to shoot you and the deceased."

Sara nodded.

"You know, normally, I'd ask you to quit your job by now."

She curled her forehead and narrowed her eyes at him.

"I almost lost you twice, Sara. This would be the third time."

"I think you miscalculated, Gil. Let's see. There's Natalie… and now this weird Caucasian guy–"

"And Adam Trent."

Sara sat frozen. The name jogged her memory as if it had happen just yesterday.

"Oh."

Grissom sat beside her and took her face his palms. "But, I won't. I don't want you to think of me as a paranoid controlling-"

"I don't blame you, Gil." Sara sighed. "Truth to be told, I'll consider it too if it was you."

Grissom nodded. "Glad we're on the same page."

Little Dylan, who had no idea whatsoever what was happening, decided to join the conversation. "Same page? We're not reading books right now, dad."

Grissom and Sara looked at their son, remembering he was still in the room.

Sara smiled, "No honey. What that means is that Daddy and I understand and agree with each other."

Grissom directed at his frowning son. "Like when you say Mommy is most beautiful woman in the world, I would say, 'Glad we're on the same page'."

Sara – without hesitation - rolled her eyes at Grissom's ever so lame example. "Is that one of your cheesy proposals for trying to get laid, huh, Gil?"

Grissom shrugged innocently and was about to reply but his son had beat him to it.

"Daddy, can you give another example so I can understand too what Mommy just said?"

END

A/N: And that's a wrap. I hope you guys enjoyed this mini-story. I certainly did have fun writing it. Hopefully an idea pops up for a new story. Stay tuned! :)