Grissom rolls out of his Denali. Sara's still fast asleep back at their condo, Hank having taken his place in the large, warm bed. Jim's call had roused him from the little sleep he had managed after the last 72 hours. A double, plus a paperwork mound on his desk means Gil Grissom is running only on coffee, two slices of pizza and four hours sleep, not ideal. He slams the car door shut, alerting Jim Brass to his presence. Flinging open the backseat door he pulls his kit from the truck, throwing his camera strap over his shoulder and strides over to the detective. Jim lifts off from the hood of his car and begins walking over towards him.
'What time do you call this? I called you nearly an hour ago.' They meet in the middle then progress towards the far corner of the parking lot towards the flashing lights and yellow tape.
'I've had four hours sleep. We…' He looks up searching for Jim's reaction to his little slip up, Jim's head cocks to the side, busted. Grissom clears his throat and continues as if nothing happened. 'I… ran out of coffee, stopped off on my way. Apologies.' He smiles and slips past the detective towards the scene.
'Woah Woah. Gil, come on.' Brass nods at the police officer in the distance guarding the edge of the crime scene and stops, turning, his back to the officer, eyes trained on Grissom's face.
'What?' Grissom's face contorts in confusion.
'Who's we?' Jim throws his hands up from his sides.
'No one. I'm… Can we just get this over with?' Grissom moves to walk around him, leaving Jim behind.
'I thought Lady Heather was more a tea person.' Grissom turns quickly, a stern look on his face, his eyes meet Jim's and they stare each other down for a minute. Breaking the silence Grissom steps back towards the detective.
'Jim. This is how rumours start.' He holds his hands up in the air in a mock, you've got me gesture. He then lowers his arms and takes the few steps to close the distance between them.
'Ok, so its not Lady Heather?'
'Jim, please.' Grissom spins around and continues yet again towards the dead body waiting for him.
'I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if it was. You two have always had… Something.' Grissom sighs loudly. With little to no patience for this game Brass wants to play he contemplates so what if he knows, it would probably be best for them both if Jim knew? He could protect them, protect Sara if anything ever hit the fan.
'If I tell you, will you drop it?' Grissom pauses and turns, Jim only inches away from him now, he holds a hand up to his heart and leans in, eager to hear the gossip. A quick change of mind floods Grissom conscious, he isn't thinking straight, he shouldn't make the decision to out their relationship without at least consulting with Sara first. So, with a straight face he leans forward and whispers.
'It's Catherine.' Jim bursts out laughing, slaps Grissom on the shoulder and pushes past.
'Yeah, and I'm sleeping with Ecklie.' They meet the officer at the edge of the scene who lifts the tape for the gentlemen to duck under. The blood trail on the pavement halts their conversation for now as Grissom weaves around the pools and crouches down next to the dead man. Sliding his camera from his shoulder he snaps off a few pictures before moving the lapel on the sports coat plastered to the body by blood. Jim stood behind Grissom, looks around and spies something across the street.
'I'm going to grab something from that bagel joint. Want anything? Bacon? Sausage?' Grissom looks up and over at the pink store front.
'Cream cheese.' He looks back down at the body and snaps off a few more pictures.
Leaning against the hood of his denali Grissom tucks into his bagel as the coroner loads the body into the back of the van. All evidence, well what evidence there was, is loaded in his truck. Jim walks over, a fresh cup of coffee in each hand and places Grissom's down between them as he leans back. Taking a sip, he looks sideways, clearing his throat.
'So. Cream cheese huh? You gone off meat or something?' Grissom scrunches the wrapper in his fist and turns to the man, a shit eating grin as wide as a soccer field plastered across his face. Grissom wipes at his mouth with the wrapper then looks ahead.
'We don't want anybody to know.' He looks down, his shoes seeming to be the best spot to focus on right now. Jim's eyes narrow.
'How long?'
'A while.' Jim throws his head back in response to the lack of information, bringing a hand up he wipes over his face.
'Since we found Nick?' Grissom shakes his head, his gaze focused again dead ahead. 'Before?' He nods.
'OK. Ok. Are you living together?' Another nod. 'Hitched?' Eyebrows furrowed with a harsh shake of the head. 'Are you happy? Is she happy?' Grissom doesn't turn but smiles as the detective nods. Picking up the second coffee he hands it to Grissom and watches as he blows on the surface then takes a large sip. 'You know what I'm going to say right?' Grissom pulls his sunglasses from the collar of his shirt, pushing them onto his face one handed. He stands up and turns to the detective.
'I imagine it's something colourful and threatening. Thanks for breakfast.' They share a smile, a knowing look and both men retreat to their own vehicles and pull out the lot.