A/N: A new chapter! Now, for a bit of blackmail-we planned to carry this story beyond the CSI finale, but based on reviews (and thank you to those who do), we are deciding what to do-shorten it or keep it as originally designed. Yes, this is a request for a review and your opinion.
Gil Grissom's Romance Part 2
Chapter 21
Young Charles Darwin spent weeks on these islands, planting the seeds that grew into his theory of natural selection. The lush ecosystem of plants and animals, blue footed boobies on one island, red footed boobies on another, iguanas in red and green and black, sharks and sea lions, dozens of species of birds, the giant tortoises, took on hues and colors and shapes found nowhere else on earth.
For Gil Grissom, he felt he was following in the steps of Darwin, often holding the hand of one of the women with him. But just as often, he walked alone among nesting birds, legions of iguanas, and herds of sea lion and seals that did not flee from humans.
Every experience exceeded expectations.
The ship with its sleek black and white paint was much more up to date than he'd thought it would be. A spacious open deck at the front of the ship provided ample space for watching the sea and sky, or for doing nothing. An assortment of antennas, satellites and other navigational equipment served multiple purposes other than connecting to the internet. The ship could slip into shallow bays and coves off-limits to larger vessels. It could move fast in the open ocean going from one island to another. Or it could barely move at all when sharks or dolphins or manta rays were spotted.
Small inflatable boats ferried passengers from ship to shore, often with a splashing watery landing. He was thankful Sara had brought sandals and quick-drying pants for him.
According to the cruise advertisement, there were more crew members than passengers; a situation that came with an appearance of competence and ease observed in everything from delicious meals and knowledgeable guides to each cabin getting a quick fresh-up while everyone was at dinner.
Days were spent exploring land and sea while evenings were for learning. The guides—naturalists—who made presentations on all aspects of the islands—encouraged discussions and questions. And as Sara had found on her previous trip, the conversations were mind-blowing.
Betty, with a room across the hallway, was surprised to find a crew member assigned to her who knew sign language and helped her set up a lighted signal system. The young woman was with her for every excursion, for nightly presentations, providing a third pair of hands for signing.
As Grissom and Sara had unpacked, slid bags under the bed, checked out the bed and bathroom, Sara had stretched her arms, almost touching the walls.
"It's small—but we won't be here much," she said.
"It's perfect," he assured her.
More than perfect—Grissom felt he had entered the Garden of Eden when he stepped onto the first island, on Mars as they walked across a lava field, and, after much encouragement and a little teasing, he pulled on a wet suit and snorkeled in the ocean to find an underwater paradise of fish, turtles, and even a lone white-tip shark.
The first time the passengers crossed the equator, the sunset seemed to set fire to the sea and sky with a spectacular display of orange, red, and yellow; dark outlines of dormant volcanoes made for a dramatic backdrop to a celebration of champagne and a buffet of fruits, nuts, cheeses, and pasta dishes.
On the fifth day, after snorkeling with colorful fish and sea turtles, the guide pointed to several small sharks, one wrapped in fishing nets, plastic bands, and hooks that were cutting into his flesh.
From his pocket, the man pulled a knife, saying, "Do you think we can cut it away?"
The others in the zodiac silently nodded; the guide was the first to slip into the water, followed by six more. It wasn't easy work but gradually the six snorkelers circled the small shark, the guide managed to cut part of the lines away and as the lines floated away, the swimmers caught the almost transparent net and pulled.
With a fast flip, the shark was free, swimming away from the group, living up to the mako's reputation as the fastest swimmer in the sea.
A chorus of cheers went up as the group swam back to the zodiac; hands extended to pull several aboard while the rest climbed the ladder. Everyone laughed, congratulated each other and the guide for either helping the shark or for avoiding getting a shark bite. There was a minute of wide-eyed, deep breathing before the ones who had been in the water started laughing.
On the ship, the night's topic of discussion was sharks—from the movie "Jaws" to the depletion of sharks around the world. Hunted to near extinction, one of the naturalists, talked about 'sharkfinning', where fifty thousand dollars paid fin cutters for one shark fin used to make soup.
Much later, in the pale light of their small cabin, Grissom said, "This is probably the best experience of my life," he chuckled as he tucked hands behind his head, stretched so his heels touched the end of the bed, and watched Sara pull a light-weight shirt over her head.
A broad smile spread across her face. "That was pretty," she laughed, "pretty darn awesome in a world of awesome. I can't believe we jumped in like that—that water was freezing!"
When she got in bed, he circled her shoulders with an arm. He said, "You are a water nymph. I don't think I knew you were such a good swimmer. You were out of that boat—I didn't have time to stop you so I jumped in." He rolled to face her, adding, "This is truly the trip of a lifetime."
Sara snuggled into the space he'd created for her. "And what were you and Peter discussing in the corner? It looked deep."
Chuckling softly, he told her what he'd learned about small groups around the world working to "save the world" one small act at a time. "Greenpeace and Sea Shepherd are the big ones. But there are groups—most are semi-organized—in every ocean trying to stop destruction of species. It's amazing what they do with little or no funding, no recognition."
They talked for a while—about what they had seen, what they expected to see in the days ahead. The ship was under way, moving smoothly in the night to the next island; the gentle rising and falling lulled both of them to sleep.
Hours later, Grissom woke. As he listened to the night noises, surprisingly quiet for a small ship with nearly two hundred people on board, he heard or felt a slight shudder followed by a sharp click. A door had opened and closed. Intently, he listened for, and heard the quiet pad of footsteps.
Why was his mother out of her cabin in the middle of the night?
Easing out of bed, placing his pillow against Sara's shoulder, he found pants and a shirt and as quietly as possible, he left the room in time to see his mother disappear around a far corner.
He followed.
A few minutes later, he was thirty feet behind her, when she opened the door of the ship's small library. He paused, almost decided to return to his bed, but reconsidered after he thought of how little time he'd spent with his mother on this trip. He was awake and dressed; they could talk.
As he had done since he was a child, when he entered the library, he flipped the lights on and off. A quick signal he'd learned when he wanted to get his mother's attention.
Startled, she flinched as she turned, then smiled when she saw him. In her hand was a thin book which she placed on a table. She signed, "You have always done that."
He laughed, signing, "Why are you in the library in the middle of the night?"
His mother gave him a brief hug before indicating chairs. Once settled across from each other, Betty showed him the book she had finished reading and signed, "I'm looking for one about Sea Shepherd or something similar."
"Why?"
Betty laughed before she signed, "I can read lips. Especially yours. I've seen you tilt your head, be intense." She sighed, placed fingers over her eyes, and shook her head before looking at her son. "I know you—does Sara know yet?"
Grissom feigned confusion, throwing hands up, index fingers pointed upward; he signed his surprise and then asked her to explain.
She did. He had always been a private person, she signed. Even as a child, he'd kept secrets, not in a harmful way, not furtive or covert but he would have his plans made before he revealed anything.
And tonight, she had seen his passion rising for the oceans, the wildlife, the environment. Finally, she laughed and signed "Sara".
When Grissom appeared confused, she signed, "Sara will wait for you forever. She is a good woman. A good daughter to me. A good wife. She loves you very much. Do not hurt her."
Grissom knew his wife and his mother had grown close. He signed, "I will not hurt her."
For several minutes, they 'talked' about the trip; Betty's eyes sparkled as she enlivened her conversation with observations most people missed.
Then, abruptly, his mother changed subjects, signing, "You cannot have children." She then made her hands as if she were cradling a baby. Grissom knew she was not asking a question.
Obviously, his mother knew; he was certain Sara had not told her. He signed, "How did you know? It is me—Sara is healthy."
Reaching across the table, she took his hands in hers and held them for a long moment. Releasing him, she shook her head and began to sign. "You had a high fever—when you were fifteen. Do you remember? You were so sick. I put ice bags all over your body all night." She paused and reached for his hands again, holding them for a minute, gently stroking her thumbs over his, before she signed, "Fever can do things to a young man. Affect fertility."
For a few seconds, he had to grasp that his mother was discussing a very personal situation with him, but since she had approached the subject, he answered her questions, gave an explanation, without too many details, of procedures they had tried without success.
"There are other doctors," she signed, "research brings new techniques."
He nodded; it was difficult to convey the disappointments and failures. For him, it was regret and remorse, feelings he could not explain to anyone.
"Adoption?" She signed as a question.
A slight shake of his head as he signed, "We have not given up. Adoption is difficult for someone my age." For a few seconds, he scrutinized his mother's face finding his own eyes in hers. He asked, "What would you have done if I had not been born? After my dad died? Have you thought about life without me?"
She smiled, kind and thoughtful, as she took his hands. It had been years since he had heard his mother speak, but in the quiet library, she whispered, "I had you, my son, my child, my ally and champion." She released his hands and signed, "I do not remember thinking about life without you. It is what a mother does. But you—you are thinking about Sara's life without you? Yes?"
He nodded.
Betty's brow wrinkled with a solemn expression. She signed, "Pride, Gil. Do not allow pride to cause misery and despair. Sara is happy. I see this when she visits me. When we are together, she is happy. You go away and she is sad but she knows you are happy and that brings her happiness. Come home quickly."
Their conversation had not changed how he felt, but he was thankful for his mother's frank exchange, realizing once again, that her deafness did not decrease her enjoyment of life.
Extending his hand, he said, "Let's go outside—to the deck."
Darkness had lifted by the time they reached the deck but they were the only ones there. A pale light was developing to the east; stars could be seen in the western sky. If not for the low hum of engines, Grissom would have thought the ship was dead in the glassy water.
As the sky brightened, Betty's lifted her face to his; her nose wrinkled in a sniff. He smiled, smelling coffee as quickly as his mother had.
Together, they stood under a clear sky, the ship sailing into another gleaming, vibrant day. A few people had joined them on the deck but placed themselves at a distance, quietly enjoying early dawn.
Betty switched her gaze to her son. He was facing forward, looking ahead, to where they were going.
A/N: Thanks for reading-now take 10 seconds to leave a comment! GSR is the best love story ever developed within a series-don't let it die! Give encouragement, not just to us, but to other writers, by leaving a review!