Author's Notes: Thanks for all the sweet feedback on this, and my other CSI stories. I appreciate every comment, so much;) I hope this chapter is as enjoyable.
Moments
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Sara! Honey, have you seen my cuff links?" Grissom rifled through his wife's jewelry box as he called out to her. "Did you do something with them?"
Down the hall in the nursery, Sara was attempting to change her daughter's diaper and avoid getting anything that might be in that diaper on her brand new, midnight blue evening gown. "They're wherever you left them last," she shouted back. Lowering her voice, Sara continued to herself, "Maybe if you didn't rip them off the second you get home and took the two seconds necessary to put them back in their box, we wouldn't go through this every time."
On the changing table, Rosalind kicked her legs, making it as difficult as possible to secure the new diaper. "Mama, ba-ba."
"No, no bottle, Rosalind. Not until bedtime." With the mad skills of a mother, she finished her task despite her daughter's wriggling body. Reaching for the footed pajamas she'd selected earlier, Sara began dressing the little girl. "Gil," she raised her voice again. "What time is it?"
"If I say 'time to put a clock in the nursery,' how much trouble will I be in?"
Sara had to smile. She zipped up the jammies, swung Rosalind onto her hip, and walked down the hallway to the master bedroom. Her husband sat on the end of their bed, fastening cuff links to the wrists of his dress shirt. "Where were they?"
"Nightstand drawer."
"That's where you left them last?"
"No, that's where you left them last." Grissom tugged his sleeves into place and stood up. "If you'll remember, when we got home last time, you were the one who undressed me."
Her cheeks turned pink as she recalled that particular night. "It's the tux."
"Of course."
"Hey, you got lucky, buddy."
"Yes, I did." Careful not to crush Rosalind between them, he slid his arms around Sara's body and kissed his wife. "It's 7:15, by the way."
"No!" Sara turned her head to look at the clock; his second kiss landed on her ear. "Where's Stephanie? She was supposed to be here a little before 7:00."
Having struck out, Grissom gave in and took their daughter from her arms. "She's probably just running late. She's operating a difficult piece of machinery, Sara. Telling the difference between the accelerator and the brake is trying enough for the girl, without having to worry about the time, as well."
"All right, I get it. You think she's an airhead." Sara scowled at him. "Maybe we shouldn't trust our daughter to her care."
"In that respect, she's trustworthy." Grissom paused. "And at least when Rosalind enters pre-K in two years, she'll be able to help Stephanie with her homework."
That earned him another dirty look. Fortunately, the doorbell chimed just then. Still shooting him a glower, Sara headed downstairs to let the babysitter in.
When Grissom descended the stairs a few minutes later, with Rosalind over his shoulder, squealing happily at being carried like a sack of potatoes, Sara was just finishing up giving their sixteen year old babysitter instructions for the night.
"She can have the bottle in the fridge when she goes to bed; just warm up it in the microwave for a few seconds. The numbers are by the phone. I added the number of the Bellagio, in case we don't answer our cells for some reason. We'll be in the Bellagio Ballroom. Just ask for the American Society of Criminology event coordinator."
"Got all of that?" Grissom couldn't help but add.
Sara frowned at him. But when she caught Stephanie's overwhelmed look, she sighed. "I wrote it all down, too." She looked around, in case she forgot something. "That's just about it."
Stephanie smiled and held out her hands towards Grissom. "Come here," she said to Rosalind as she took her from her father. "There you are! Who's the sweetest little girl in the whole wide world?" Rosalind stared at her, but the babysitter went on, "Yes, you, cutie-wootie pie!"
Grissom winced at the baby-talk. One of the first decisions he and Sara had made after the pregnancy test strip turned pink was that there would be no baby-talk in the Grissom household. Apparently, Stephanie hadn't gotten that memo.
"We're in the middle of reading Lord of the Rings to her," Grissom informed the girl. "The book is in the nursery. She likes it when you use different voices for the characters. I tend to give Gimli a deep tone like…what am I saying…you've seen the movies."
Sara put a hand on her husband's arm. "Gil." She shook her head. To Stephanie, she went on, "You know where the picture books are. Just read one to her, or she won't sleep."
"Sure thing, Mrs. G." Stephanie bounced Rosalind on her hip as Gil helped Sara into her wrap. "Have fun! Congrats on the award, Dr. G!"
For someone receiving the ASC's Lifetime Achievement award, Grissom was surprisingly calm, a fact that did not go unnoticed, or unexploited, by his co-workers who'd attended the banquet under the guise of supporting their supervisor.
"So, Gil," Catherine started, leaning forward enough to display a bit of cleavage at the low neckline of her ruby-red gown. "Got a speech prepared?"
"I have a few things written down," he replied. Only the fact that he finished off a double scotch as he spoke gave away his underlying nervousness.
"He's been working on it all week," Sara came to her husband's defense. "I must have thrown out a hundred crumpled up drafts." She took Grissom's hand, sandwiching it between hers.
Nick laughed at this. "How many of 'em got past 'Good evening fellow criminalists'?"
"Hey, I was making the rounds earlier," Warrick spoke up. "Half of the people I talked to were entomologists, not criminalists." He slapped a hand on Grissom's back. "You're amongst your kind tonight, Gris."
"Half?" Greg swallowed. "God, he's multiplying."
Nick's date, a cookie-cutter blond, tilted her head to one side, puzzled. "What's an entomologist?"
Even Nick stared at her for a moment. Grissom smiled at the girl. "Do you happen to have a sister named Stephanie?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening." The emcee looked out over the ballroom as the ceremony suddenly began. "On behalf of the American Society of Criminology, thank you all for coming." There was applause, polite and short. "Tonight, we honor all of our members, whose talent, intelligence and tireless efforts apply science to law enforcement, and keep our cities safer. But there is one man in particular whom we recognize tonight. A man who has devoted thirty years to the study of forensic science, most of those years, right here in Las Vegas. If you've ever been faced with an insect infestation in your crime scene, you've likely referenced one of his numerous papers, or case files. He is a living legend in this community of scientists, and tonight we acknowledge his vast contributions to the field of criminology by presenting him with the ASC Lifetime Achievement Award. It is my pleasure to introduce Dr. Gilbert Grissom of the Las Vegas Crime Lab."
Still holding onto his wife's hand, Grissom stood up, surprised by the level of applause all around him. He squeezed Sara's fingers and reluctantly let go in order to walk to the podium. He could already feel the heat of the spotlight that was steadily trained on him as he approached the microphone. The emcee handed him the shiny, embossed plaque.
"Thank you, everyone," Grissom started. After clearing his throat, he extracted his glasses and his speech from his tuxedo jacket. Taking a second to slip the glasses on, and smooth out the crumpled paper, he went on. "It's an honor to be here tonight amidst so many of the brightest minds in the country, even more so to be singled out amongst them. Before I put you all to sleep, I need to take a moment to acknowledge the reason I'm standing here tonight. My team, my co-workers, my friends. The people who start their day at eleven p.m. and don't return home until the sun goes down again. Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Greg…if I had to be supervisor, I'm glad I got the best to supervise."
At the table, Catherine shook her head, smiling. "The man doesn't say much, but when he does, it's pretty damn insightful."
Grissom adjusted his glasses and looked out over the crowded ballroom. "But there's one co-worker I haven't mentioned. My wife, Sara. But then, what can you say about your reason for getting up in the morning…for the mother of your child? Probably a more eloquent man could come up with a lot. But what I know is that a man considers himself lucky if he finds a colleague who challenges him and a woman who loves him. I found both in the same, beautiful person."
He looked at Sara as she kissed her fingertips and blew the kiss to him.
Fortified by this, Grissom launched into the body of his speech.
It was well after midnight by the time they arrived home. While Grissom paid Stephanie and saw her off, Sara went upstairs to check on Rosalind. He found her there ten minutes later, watching the rise and fall of the little girl's even breaths. Coming up behind her, Grissom wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her bare shoulder.
"Gil," Sara whispered. "I want another one."
There was a long pause. "Any specific kind?"
"Not really. Just another healthy one," she replied. Turning around in his arms, Sara faced him. "What do you say?"
"I say…" He kissed her softly, sweetly. "I got two awards tonight."
Her smile lit up her face. Reaching behind her back, Sara grasped his hands and brought them back between them. Her nimble fingers undid the cuff link at his right wrist. She held the silver stud up, teasingly.
"I'll hide it; you seek it."
To Be Continued