Chapter Six: Bonding

Two hours; he had been home all of two hours. He had spent forty-five minutes in the shower, a feeble attempt to clear away the stench of decomposing flesh from his body. Fifteen more minutes were spent afterwards, eating quietly in the kitchen. The last hour he spent wondering, worrying about the situation at hand, before crawling into bed.

It felt as though he had just closed his eyes before someone was waking him up. Susan was off to the side, shaking him gently, calling his name. At first Greg was confused as to why the blonde was in his apartment, before everything came flooding back a moment later.

"I'm leaving for that interview now, "she told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Greg nodded with an incoherent mutter, glancing up to the bedside clock blinking. "It's only six thirty," he replied with a hoarse cough, clearing his throat as he ran a hand through his hair.

"We're meeting for breakfast; I want to make sure I can find the place in time."

"Okay," he answered, rolling back onto his side as he pressed his face against the pillow. He knew how important it was for Susan to get this job. His income alone wouldn't be enough to support all three of them, especially with the pay cut he had taken once moving out into the field.

"Chase is on the couch, he's a late sleeper so you shouldn't have any problems with him…" Susan told him as she made her way to the door.

Greg sat up then, quickly forgetting that he was still tired. "Wait…you're leaving him here? With me?"

She stopped in the doorway, nearly out into the hall now as she nodded. "I can't bring him with me. Besides, the two of you need some bonding time. I'll be back in time for you to get to work."

"What am I supposed to do?"

Susan let out a sigh, wandering back into the room. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he stays out of trouble, feed him when he gets hungry…"

"What does he eat?" Greg wondered briefly.

Susan only frowned, blinking at him. "Food…he's a human child Greg…not a goldfish. He has some clothes in his suitcase at the end of the couch. He can dress himself; just help him pick out a matching outfit."

Greg groaned, letting himself fall back onto the bed. What exactly was he supposed to do with a four year old child all day long?

She redialed the number again, pressing the cell phone against her ear as she walked down the hallway. Once again voice mail picked up, causing her to scowl into the device. There wasn't much of a point in leaving a message, seeing that she would just make the call again in a few minutes, but she did so anyways. Maybe Sara would get the hint, and call in.

"You find anything Nicky?" Catherine wondered as she entered the garage, taking care to step over the bucket of oil that had been left in the walkway.

The Texan poked his head out from where he sat in the car, both shrugging and tilting his head at the same time. "A few odds and ends, but I don't know if anything's relevant. Sara keeps her car pretty clean, so anything we find is recent. We just don't know if it's before or after her injuries occurred."

She nodded, watching the man work. "Go ahead and bag everything, we'll run it all. If we don't find anything here we'll check her place, but Grissom's made a firm point that we only go there if it's necessary."

"Yeah," Nick agreed quietly. "We don't need to be upsetting her life anymore than it needs to be."

"I can see the point Grissom is making, but if it was anyone else we would have already searched her place, as well as Greg's."

"But it's not just someone else," Nick argued briefly, knowing full well that starting a quarrel with Catherine wasn't the smartest of ideas. "It's personal."

"All the more reason to do a thorough search," she nodded, turning to leave.

"Wait a minute," Nick motioned for her to come back over, pulling a piece of paper from the visor overhead. "Check this out, receipt for the Aureole, for two. That's an expensive restaurant."

Catherine nodded, impressed as she gazed over his shoulder. "Who was she with, I wonder?"

"Greg?" Nick offered, glancing up at her.

"He would have said something," she mused quietly. Her phone went and she answered it, even as she straightened up. "Hey Sara, I need you to come in, we have a 419 and you're the only available body…"

Nick shook his head as she left, his attention turning back to the receipt, checking the date. There was no doubt about it; it was the same night Sara had gone to the hospital.

"Please?" Greg asked quietly, his chin resting in his hands as he stared at the four year old. "Please eat? You said you wanted it…"

Chase only shook his head quietly, staring down at the food on his plate before pushing it to the side. "I don't wanna…"

"That's the third thing you've order, and you haven't eaten all day…you do eat, don't you?" Greg wondered quickly with a sigh.

The boy only shook his head quickly sticking his tongue out. Rubbing his head Greg reached over for the menu that sat on the seat next to him, laying it flat on the table as he scanned it. The meal would cost him a fortune, a fortune he didn't have, but he couldn't just let the kid go hungry.

"That one," Chase said with a grin, plopping a finger down on one of the items. Greg made a face as he read the boy's decision.

"Fried Oysters?" Greg questioned, looking skeptically at the child. He wasn't sure if the kid could even read, and as the day went on he became more and more convinced that Chase was just pointing fingers. "You probably won't like them," he started to warn, holding his hands up as Chase started to cry.

"Alright…we'll get you the oysters…but you have to eat them."

He smiled happily, holding onto the edge of the chair, swinging his feet back and forth as Greg asked for the order. The waitress shook her head, raising an eyebrow but went to fetch the new platter, leaving the two alone once again.

Greg tried to hide a yawn as he leaned against the table, keeping his eyes on the small boy that was bopping around in his seat. He hadn't been able to fall asleep again, not after Susan left. He was too worried about Chase, worried that the boy would wake up, and then who knew what he would do if Greg continued to sleep on.

"So…" Greg cleared his throat, watching him. "What do you like to do…?"

"I don't know…" Chase answered quietly, staring back at him.

"Do you like…watching tv?"

"I don't know…"

"Do you like playing at parks? We have one around here you can play at for a while. Would you like to do that?"

"I don't know…"

Greg blinked, chewing on his lower lip. "Well…I'm glad that we're able to have such enlightening conversations." He sat for a moment longer, before trying again. "You know…you're not the only one who's a picky eater. You remember Sara?"

Chase watched him for a moment, before nodding his head vigorously. Greg laughed softly, shifting in his chair. "She doesn't like to eat much either. She's a vegetarian, that means she only eats vegetables, and fruits…she doesn't eat anything with meat in it."

"How come," he asked quietly, mimicking Greg's posture as he plopped his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands.

"Well…she doesn't like eating animals. You see, meat comes from all different animals, chicken from chicken, hamburgers from cows, bacon from pigs…Sara doesn't like eating something that was once alive…"

Chase made a face, pulling back from the table. "Eww…"

"Sorry," Greg apologized, wincing. "That was probably more than you wanted to know huh?"

The boy shook his head at first, stopping only to nod shortly afterwards, earning a chuckle out of Greg. The four year old did have a way with charm, he had to admit. Still smiling he let out a sigh, "Let's just keep this between you and me, okay?"

Chase grinned, sticking out his tongue as he drummed his hands on the seat next to his legs. "Okay…"

Greg smiled, clearing the plates out of the way as the waitress set the new dish down in front of the four year old, making a face despite himself. Just smelling it now, there would be no way he would eat any of it.

"Careful sweetie, their hot," the waitress told him, placing another handful of napkins on the table. Greg thanked her quietly, his attention going back to his son as the boy grabbed one the oysters with his bare hand, taking an almost immediate bite out it.

A second later it was back out of his mouth, now sitting on the plate in puddle of drool. "Eww…"

"I knew you wouldn't like it," Greg said a little remorsefully, adding up the total cost of food so far in his head.

"Are we having fun yet?"

Greg looked up quickly, glancing over his shoulder with a wry smile. "Are you checking up on me?"

"No," Catherine let out a smile, resting one hand on the back of his chair, "Sara and came by to interview the manager of this place, only to find out that he's out to lunch. Go figure huh?"

"What are you feeding him?" Sara wondered briefly, coming up behind Catherine to gaze at the table. "Vegetable soup, stir-fry and fried oysters?"

"Hey," Greg held up his hands defensively, "he's the one who ordered."

"You let a four year old order?" Sara wondered, frowning.

"I've gotta go potty," Chase said quietly, squirming in his seat.

"Want me to take you?" Catherine offered, squatting down so that she was eye level with the boy.

"I want Swara to take me…" he said, sliding out of the seat and walking over to where the brunette stood.

Sara shook her head, even as Chase wrapped his hand around her the edge of her jacket, tugging lightly. "What am I supposed to do?"

"He knows what he's doing;" Catherine reassured her, "just take him there."

She started to protest, only to stop as Chase tugged on her jacket one more time. With a sigh she wrapped her fingers around his small hand, leading him to the back. Catherine let out a smile as she watched them leave, sliding into the chair previously occupied by the boy.

Greg was holding his head in his hands, sighing deeply, not even making eye contact with the blonde. "Tough day?"

"Nightmare," he answered quietly, taking in a breath as he sat up. "I've only slept for a few hours, and this kid's like the energizer bunny. He never stops…it took forty-five minutes to get him dressed this morning, he didn't like anything I picked out, and we couldn't find his left shoe. He lost his jacket somewhere in the grocery store, we spent half an hour looking for that before I finally went out and bought him a new one instead. Now he won't eat, and I don't know why…"

Catherine smiled, trying not to laugh as she watched him. "Have you ever considered trying a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Some fish sticks, macaroni and cheese?"

Greg shook his head dully in response, causing Catherine to laugh this time. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"None whatsoever," he replied in a whisper, rubbing his neck as he fought off a yawn.

Grabbing a spare napkin Catherine pulled out a pen, jotting down a few items. Greg watched her, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing…?"

"Making you a shopping list," she replied calmly. "Think of it as a little mother to father advice. These are the essentials that you'll need."

"Carpet cleaner?" Greg frowned, reading what she had written down. "What am I going to use carpet cleaner for?"

"Trust me Greg; sooner or later you will need some. I have the experience."

Greg nodded thoughtfully, sitting up. "You're the expert," he said quietly.

"That I am…"

TBC