A/N: Thank you for reading, for helping to keep GSR alive in fanfiction! Enjoy!
After Effects
Chapter 4
Twelve days at sea, not a glimpse of land, meant everyone was looking forward to stepping on solid ground. Or drinking truly fresh water. Or eating pineapple. The last came from Cate when asked what she wanted to do in Hawaii. She was also certain she'd seen two mermaids and had spent the last fifteen minutes providing detailed descriptions to two of the young scientists.
Their last day at sea; everyone on board had become good friends, a team with common goals. From the beginning, the crew and scientists had worked together rehearsing what was going to be done eight times in twelve days. Buoys the size of small cars would be lifted from the ocean, chained to the rear deck, cleaned, unloaded and reloaded with instruments, and then dropped back into the ocean. With exceptions made for the two chefs and Sara and the children, everyone learned the process.
When the first buoy was pulled from the water, the stench was unbelievable; the term 'poop deck' was muttered more than once. Whatever the ocean and sky contained for eighty or so days had wrapped and covered the surface layer upon layer. Using pressure hoses to wash the buoy, everyone learned where to be out of the spray—at least most of the spray. A nasty, dirty job done with good humor in the name of science. Once cleaned, the six foot long cylinder holding instruments that measured sounds, waves, water, and air was removed. Another cylinder went back into the buoy which was dropped by the industrial crane back into the ocean to continue sending data to scientists all over the globe.
It was strenuous physical work and Gil Grissom loved every minute of it. Even when the crane hook slipped its hold, every person knew what to do; no shouting, no running around. The process continued with barely a hitch. At the end of each day, every person was exhausted yet ready to enjoy discussions that were incredible, cutting-edge, science-based, and often rare research experiences.
When a small hand tugged at his, Grissom picked up his dark-haired daughter and pointed to the far horizon where a hazy line was beginning to take shape. He said, "That's where we're going—that's Hawaii!"
With a giggle, she said, "I'm going to eat pineapple!" She wiggled to be free of his hold, saying, "I'm going to tell Gray and Jay! They don't know we're getting to land—they are being pirates."
Pirate play had been a big part of the past ten days, at least for his sons. He placed Cate on deck and watched her run to her brothers where an animated conversation took place before the three children ran to their mother for another enthusiastic exchange. As he watched his family, he was almost overwhelmed with an emotion he had experienced numerous times and would have difficulty putting into words. Good fortune, luck, fate—God—whatever had guided his life to this point…blinking rapidly, he cleared his eyes.
He loved his children in ways that a non-parent would never comprehend. He'd love the twins from the moment they had learned Sara was pregnant. For Cate, quietly, he chuckled; now, they admitted they had loved her from the time of her perilous birth at the tragic death of her biological mother. Neither he nor Sara cared who her parents had been; they loved the little girl unconditionally. And while genes explained her appearance, Cate's mannerisms were an imitation of Sara's.
His sons, one the image of his own childhood photographs while the other was a definite combination of both parents, were opposites in certain behaviors and single-minded in others. Jay was more earnest, brows often knitted together in thought, while Gray, lighthearted, witty, was the first of the three to defy and question, doing so with sweet innocence of a beautiful smile. He and Sara had quickly learned his benign behavior often disguised his actions—filling the toilet with four rolls of paper, drawing lines all over his brother using a black ink pen. The list expanded weekly.
Chuckling, Grissom leaned against the rail, his back to approaching land, so he could appreciate what was happening around him.
This extraordinary voyage they were about to complete had been a dream in real time. Every day had been a day of surprises from manta rays to dolphins, turtles, and, for three days, whale sightings. Not just one or two of any of these but pods and schools of wildlife on sparkling, calm seas.
The kids had enjoyed every day, sleeping well at night, happy during the day. And eating—he chuckled and touched his belly. His pants still fit. Saying the meals were good didn't began to actually describe the banquet of foods provided by the two chefs. And for the first time in four years, his wife had added a few pounds of weight which her slender frame desperately needed.
His eyes found her surrounded by their laughing children. She was beautiful, sun-touched skin, wind-blown hair, reflecting her children's delight; how did such good fortune find him, he marveled to himself.
With a jumble of clatter and clamor, his children were suddenly around him with three conversations going at once. Sara's arm wrapped around his waist.
"I'm as excited to see Hawaii as the kids," she said, softly, near his ear.
For four idyllic days, they lived in a guest cottage with a short walk to the beach as its primary attraction. A screen porch with a hammock, an outdoor shower, and a kid's gym set provided additional entertainment to three young children. Hours spent playing in low surf, on a sandy beach, in a swing meant the children were asleep before sunset giving Sara and Grissom rare alone time.
In the peaceful nights, the two talked and read, teased and laughed, bathed and showered together, and made slow, effortless love to each other going beyond simple sexual pleasure. Sara said it was some kind of enchantment of time and place; he said it was music as one note follows another, so did they as day turned to night.
On their last night, Sara's phone buzzed for the first time since leaving California. With a glance, she said, "Catherine" before answering.
Grissom heard one side of the conversation; almost all responses were answers to questions about their trip. Then, Sara frowned and looked at Grissom.
"Catherine—Catherine—I'm putting you on speaker."
The voice of their long-time friend sounded as if she were a few miles away as she asked Grissom similar questions to those she'd just asked Sara. Then she said, "Do you two remember Brenda Collins?"
Grissom slowly moved his head in a negative response, frowning as he searched his memory.
After a long moment, Sara said, "Little girl—her sister killed the family—first year I was in Vegas." She pointed to Grissom, adding, "I went to the hospital with her—she'd been abused—by the father—is that right?"
"Yes! You do remember her!" Catherine answered. "Have you had any contact with her—anything recent—or—or at any time since then?"
"No contact with her. Afterwards, a year or so later, I sort of checked—learned she was with a relative—an aunt, I think. And she seemed to be doing well in school. But nothing since—why?"
They heard Catherine's breath, a loud sigh, before she said, "Can you talk?"
"Yes." Sara's eyes met her husband's, both clearly puzzled by Catherine's words.
"Smart girl—ended up graduating from Stanford Law. Returned to Vegas and worked in one of the top firms here, married, had a baby. About ten days ago, she and her husband were killed in an accident—a few miles from their home here in Vegas. It's been tragic news, nightly story for several days—a side swipe and both cars ran off the highway, killed the other driver too."
Sara murmured words of sorrow but Catherine interrupted her.
"That's not why I called. Well, it is—there is one survivor. Brenda has an eight month old daughter who was in the car, strapped in her rear-facing infant seat. Not a scratch on her." Catherine paused. "A team went out because of the fatalities and found nothing to indicate anything other than a road accident.
"So when the lawyers showed up, I thought it was because of the investigation—who was at fault which was obvious from witnesses and evidence—looking for a lawsuit. But—it was something else. And that's the reason I called. They are looking for you, Sara."
Grissom and Sara heard Catherine take a quick breath before she continued. "Of course, I could get nothing from them. And I was cautious about giving information but they seemed to know you had married and lived in LA. They had not been able to get in contact with you and contacted the lab—me. I told them I wasn't sure when you would return and would let them know when I heard from you."
Another pause for breath and when neither Sara nor Grissom spoke, Catherine continued. "Do you have any idea why they are trying to find you? The two guys were top echelon—as in partners—not newly minted—and were very closed-mouth. Could not get anything out of them as to why they wanted to find you."
Sara grinned, knowing her friend's inquisitiveness was not subtle. She said, "Honestly, I have no idea—I've not thought of Brenda in years. When I learned she seemed to be doing well, I—I never checked on her again. I'm trying to piece the case together. Wasn't her sister who killed their parents the actual mother of Brenda?"
Grissom's eyebrows shot up as he remembered. "Yes—the girl said she killed her brothers and both parents because none of them noticed what was happening to her—the abuse from the father, the hidden pregnancy. The little girl—Brenda—said only one word." His fingers traced across his forehead as he searched his memory. "Buffalo—her dad had this," his fingers touched his chest. "This necklace with a buffalo engraved on it."
"When will you get home?" Catherine asked.
He said, "We fly home tomorrow. If you can, hold them off for a day or two so we can get the kids back in preschool and some semblance of a schedule. Whatever it is, it can wait a few more days."
A few more questions from Catherine about the kids and the call ended. They remained on the quiet porch yet unable to return to their previous peaceful mood. Finally, Grissom stood, reaching for Sara's hand.
"Let's go to bed," he whispered. "Whatever it is, we'll know in a few days."
Sara nodded, took his hand, and kissed him. Passing sleeping children, they found their bed as hands parted clothing, and the gentleness of the night surrounded them in another magical, star-filled evening.
A/N: We appreciate you! Thanks for reading, giving encouragement to continue. Love live GSR!
