AN: Another chapter for you guys, I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI
Chapter 5
To Sara's complete lack of surprise, working with Grissom again is fun. He's always loved teaching, which she knew, and their timeline is an opportunity for him to teach her about the bugs and the method they're using to determine stages, which should lead them to an approximate time of death. Whenever she remembers something he's taught her before, he lights up, and when she doesn't understand something, he walks her through it patiently, waiting until she can explain it in her own words.
She's reminded of when they met, back in San Francisco. Her endless supply of questions to keep him talking after each lecture, his patient answers…
They've done what they can around four in the morning, and she leans back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head and making a few joints pop. "Do you need to get going? Do you have class on Fridays?"
He glances at his watch. "I do, but not until eleven."
Sara raises an eyebrow. "You do realize that's less than seven hours from now, right? I know you don't need that much sleep, but still."
"Yeah, I should probably get going," he agrees reluctantly. "Are you good from here? Otherwise, I can come in tonight."
She wants to tell him to, but she knows she doesn't actually need him from now on. Besides, Greg might want his case back.
"I think we'll be fine," she says.
Grissom looks disappointed for a moment but quickly reverts his expression back to neutral. "You know where to find me if anything comes up."
"I do, yeah." She glances around, but they're alone in the layout room and there's nobody in the corridor outside. Still, she lowers her voice a little before asking, "Who's with Sam when you're here, by the way?"
"My mother," he replies.
"Oh. Did she move to town with you guys or…"
She's never met Grissom's mother in person, even if they said brief hellos during his somewhat regular video chats with her while they were together. Back then, though, she was still in Marina del Rey, and they obviously couldn't take a few days off to go for a visit.
"No, she's been in Vegas a couple of years now. She was offered a position at the Gilbert Institute for the deaf a couple of months after I…" He hesitates for a moment. "After I left. She just officially retired this spring, even if she's there most days anyway, so she's happy to babysit whenever I need it. And Sam absolutely adores her, so it works out well. I was teaching her to sign before we moved back, and now Mom's taken over the lessons."
"That's nice," she notes, smiling to assure him she's not upset about his mention of him leaving.
"It is, yeah," he agrees before sighing. "OK, I'm getting out of here, but call me if you need more help, OK?"
"I thought your consultancy needed to go through Catherine," she points out.
He actually winks at her. "I'll make an exception for you."
She can't help the shiver that runs down her spine at his words, but luckily, he doesn't seem to notice, because he just smiles at her and leaves with a little wave. When he's disappeared, she sucks in a deep breath and lets her head fall onto the table.
She is in so much trouble.
The whole team settles into a sort of routine pretty quickly, Grissom putting in guest appearances usually once or twice a week. Catherine rotates who he works with, with the exception of Greg, who she keeps as far away as possible. To Sara's knowledge, he has yet to exchange a single word with their former supervisor. Part of her knows that she should talk to him, but she's pretty sure he won't forgive Grissom without any kind of explanation, just because she has. Or sort of has. She's working on it, anyway.
Figuring out that Sara usually comes into work early, Grissom starts showing up half an hour to forty-five minutes before shift starts, always with coffee and some pastry.
"Are you working your way through all the bakeries in Vegas?" she asks one day, accepting a strawberry Danish.
He shrugs. "Only the ones between home and here," he reasons. "I'm not going out of my way or anything. But I've gotten out of the swing of working this late, I need the caffeine."
"Excuses excuses."
Those talks are the only time they spend together outside of work, though, and they're still at the lab, so it's not like they're private or anything. She was hoping to maybe run into him and Sam at the park again, but either they don't go there as often as she does, or they keep missing each other.
So, it's very much a relief when, about three weeks after their cathartic conversation, he sits down opposite her in the otherwise empty break room on a Tuesday night – tonight's pastries are brownies from one of her favorite bakeries – and opens with: "Sam's annoyed we haven't run into you and Hank at the park again, and somehow, it's apparently my fault."
Sara frowns. "How'd she work that one out?"
"OK, that might have been an exaggeration," he admits with a sheepish smile. "But she figures since I see you now and then and she doesn't, I should know when you guys are at the park."
"Well, obviously," she deadpans, earning a chuckle. "Honestly, we don't really have a schedule. Whenever Hank gets too antsy at home and I actually have the time, we usually go there for a while to throw a ball so he can let some energy out."
"Ah, that would explain it then. We've been going back around seven, thinking that was your park time."
"Nope." She pauses, biting her lip as she considers, but she's admitted to herself that she wants to see him more, outside of work. And she does want to get to know Sam. "We could just agree on a time to meet there, you know."
"And not rely on serendipity? What a concept."
Voices announce the arrival of Nick and Greg, and they silently agree to table the conversation for the moment.
She's paired up with Greg for the night, and after an uncharacteristically silent drive to their crime scene, she turns to him. "OK, what's up with you tonight?"
He shrugs, looking out the side window.
"Come on, it's going to be a really long shift if you're giving me the silent treatment the whole time," she wheedles.
With a huff, he turns to her, a frown on his face. "I just don't get how you can be so… chummy with him."
Sara sighs. "I told you I didn't want you holding a grudge on my account, remember? We're… trying to work through our issues, and I don't need you giving him the cold shoulder."
"So you've just forgiven him? Just like that?"
"No," she admits. "But I… I want to. I'm working on it."
Greg just stares at her for a moment. "Well, good for you."
It's not a fun shift.
Grissom's already left by the time they get back to the lab, and Sara's a little disappointed until the end of shift, when she finds a note he must have slipped into her locker.
We don't have any plans today, in case you would like some company at the park – G
Smiling, she quickly stuffs the note in her pocket and grabs her bag, hanging up her vest. She wasn't planning on going to the park today, but she could. As she turns, a locker slams behind her, making her jump a little, and then Greg stalks out of the room.
"What crawled up his butt?" Catherine asks, looking after their colleague.
Sara sighs. "He's mad at me."
"At you? I thought he was mad at Grissom."
"Well, yeah, but I'm making it worse, I guess."
Catherine nods thoughtfully. "So, you and Gil are getting along better, and Greg's pissed about it? I wonder why…"
It's not hard to pick up on the insinuation. "No, it's not like that," Sara immediately tells her. "He just… he doesn't understand how I can forgive Grissom after… everything."
"Have you?"
"I'm working on it. I want to."
"Good." Catherine closes her own locker and offers a smile. "I'm glad you two are working things out, I think it'll be good for both of you. And don't worry about Greg, he'll come around. You know he can never stay mad at you for too long."
Sara knows she's right, of course, but she still hates the tension between them.
Deciding to pick up some of his favorite donuts on the way into work as a peace offering tonight, she pushes the thoughts of Greg aside for the day.
She gets home around eight forty-five and, remembering that Grissom called her around that time the other week, she assumes he'll be on his way home from dropping Sam off at school, so she flips her phone open to call him.
"Hello," his mumbled greeting comes over the line after the fourth ring and she curses inwardly.
"I woke you up, I'm sorry!"
"Sara?"
"I'm sorry, go back to sleep, it was nothing important," she tells him.
"No, no, I'm awake now," he replies, sounding a little more alert.
"I thought you'd be on your way back from the school," she explains sheepishly.
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense. No, my mom got Sam ready for school, and I'm in a carpooling… thing, so it wasn't my day to take her in."
"Right, of course."
There's some rustling over the line, and Sara suddenly realizes that he must be in bed, and that – unless he's changed his routines with a child in the house, which is possible, of course – he usually sleeps naked. Which she absolutely does not need to think about right now.
"I assume you had a reason for calling?" he asks after a moment, sounding amused. "You weren't just trying to wake me up?"
"No, I wanted to… I got your note," she explains, remembering why she called. "And I don't have any plans today either, but getting out of the house for a while would be nice."
"Yeah? I have office hours until five, and we need to eat when I get home, so around seven?"
"That sounds good," she agrees, pushing down the butterflies starting to flap around in her stomach. This is not a date. She honestly doesn't even know if she wants it to be a date.
"Do you want to just meet at the park?" Grissom suggests.
"Actually, I was thinking we could maybe go to the dog park instead, over in Heritage Park?" she says. "Hank loves it, and I don't have to worry he'll pick up the scent of a squirrel or something and take off, since it's all fenced in. It's pretty cool, I think Sam would like it."
"Yeah, that sounds good. It's some ways from Roadrunner Park, though, right?"
"About another twenty minutes, so I thought we might want to drive, considering the heat. I could pick you up?"
He hums. "Do you still have the Prius?" When she confirms, he continues. "It might be better if we pick you up, then. I have an SUV; Hank can ride in the back."
"Sure, that works."
"Great, we'll pick you up at seven then?"
"Perfect."
Grissom's eyes widen a little when he spots the large bag Sara's packed for the dog park. "Are you making a break for it?" he asks. "Am I helping you flee town or something? Are you wanted by the law?"
She rolls her eyes as she slides into the passenger seat, putting the bag on the floor between her feet. "There's a water park section, Hank loves it. I packed a few towels, I usually try to dry him off before he gets back in the car, though that's not as bad when he's in the back, I guess." She turns around to greet Sam in the back seat. "Hi."
Sam's greeting Hank, who's stuck his head over the seat, but turns to Sara with a smile. "Hi. Thanks for coming with us."
"I should be the one thanking you," Sara tells her as Grissom pulls away from the curb. "Hank has a lot of energy, I get tired long before he does, but you might actually be able to keep up with him."
"Oh, yeah, we're going to have so much fun!"
She turns back to settle into the seat. "If you take South Racetrack all the way to Burkholder and then take a left, there's parking by the dog park."
"I remember where the park is," he replies with a quick smile.
"Right, of course." She feels a little sheepish – of course he remembers where the park is, they took Hank there at least once every couple of weeks before. The current dog park is a recent addition, but even before that, there was the standard fenced in area for dogs to run free.
Sam breaks the tension – which was probably just in Sara's head anyway – by asking about the dog park, and when Sara's described it, she turns the conversation around to ask Sam how she likes Las Vegas.
"It's nice," the girl replies with a shrug. "I like our house, we have a pool, and I already have two friends at school, that's nice. And Grandma's here, I like learning signing with her."
"Do you miss Williamstown?"
Sam thinks for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. "I miss Nana and Pop-pop, though I didn't see them that much since they live in Boston. And Hailey and Tessa and Nora – they're my best friends," she explains. "But Dad said I can get a Facebook account so we can talk online."
Sara raises an eyebrow at Grissom. "You know what Facebook is?"
He rolls his eyes. "I do teach college students, and I'm not completely cut off from modern technology," he replies drily.
"You just shun it?"
"What's shun?" Sam pipes in from the back seat as Grissom chuckles.
"It's when you avoid something," Sara explains.
"Oh. Yeah, Dad doesn't like modern stuff," the girl agrees, eyes twinkling with something Sara would probably call mischief. "And he didn't know what Facebook was when I told him I wanted to get it."
Grissom pulls into a parking spot at the park at that moment, and after turning the engine off, he turns to look over his shoulder at Sam. "Thanks for that one, kiddo. I was hoping to maybe seem a little cool."
Sara pats him on the shoulder. "Sorry, that ship sailed years ago."
Sam's laugh echoes through the car as she opens the door.
The park's not very busy, which it usually isn't during the week, and they're alone in the water park area. Sara knows that, technically, only dogs are allowed in there, but she's seen people in there before, and they're alone, so she tells Sam it's OK to go with Hank, and she and Grissom find a bench just outside.
She puts her bag down on the ground and rummages around until she finds her thermos, holding it up to him as a question. When he nods, she finds the two plastic mugs she brought as well, and he holds them as she pours them both some coffee.
"Thanks," he says with a smile, handing her one mug and taking a sip from the other.
A shriek from Sam makes both of them look up to find her chasing Hank through one of the water features, soaking both dog and child.
"I brought extra towels," Sara assures him with a laugh. "I had a feeling she wouldn't be able to stay out of there."
"Yeah, good call. It's not like she'll get cold, but getting the smell of wet upholstery out of a car is definitely not much fun."
"Talking from experience?" she asks amusedly.
"Unfortunately, yes," Grissom admits. "Pool party for one of her friends last summer. She's been talking about a pool ever since, so when I started looking for a place out here, it was obviously a must."
"Oh, yeah, I'm totally jealous about that, by the way," she tells him. "The neighbors put in a pool last year, and I've been watching them splash around while I'm practically melting in the heat all summer."
He chuckles at her words. "Well, you're welcome to use ours to cool off whenever you want."
"You might regret that," Sara teases, expecting him to continue laughing, but instead, he sobers.
"Not if it means I get to spend more time with you."
His words are simple, honest, and for a long moment, she can't tear her eyes from his.
She's almost relieved when Sam's voice pulls their attention. Almost.
"Dad, Sara, look what Hank can do!"
So, of course they have to go over and check the trick – catching the tennis ball in the middle of a jump – and praise Hank.
"You're not afraid she'll want to get a dog?" Sara asks when the new dynamic duo has gone back to their water fun, and she and Grissom have returned to their bench.
He snorts. "Actually, no. If she gets a dog, she can't use the excuse of wanting to see Hank to get us to hang out."
She takes a moment to consider his words and the implication of them.
"You think she's trying to… matchmake?" Somehow, her voice comes out even. She has no idea how, but it does.
"Not necessarily matchmake, but she's been very… invested in my social life since the move," Grissom explains. "It's partly my fault – I used the excuse of not really knowing anyone in Williamstown to explain why I never went out except to university functions, and she probably figures that since I used to live here, I have friends."
"So, you somehow managed to keep the fact that you're just an anti-social misanthrope from her? Quite a feat." It's teasing, and he takes it at face value, rolling his eyes.
"Ouch! I thought I was doing better… I've been trying."
It's true, he has been trying to be more social, and not just with her. Whenever he works a full shift, he always invites the team out for breakfast in the morning, with varying results. She knows he and Brass are at least working on patching things up and went out for dinner at some sports bar last week.
"You're right, I'm sorry. You're practically a social butterfly these days."
"Like you're much better," he shoots back with a raised eyebrow.
"OK, yeah, maybe we could both benefit from Sam managing our social lives," Sara admits.
"Definitely." He pauses. "She's been nagging me to ask you about the park, I'm not sure I would have… had the courage to do it otherwise. So I guess I should be grateful."
She frowns. "Based on our run-in the other week?"
"No, not just that, she… she figured out who you are."
"Who I am?"
This is making less and less sense.
Grissom sighs. "Remember the photo of the two of us in San Francisco?" She nods to indicate she does. "I was keeping it in a book with Shakespeare sonnets, she found it when we were unpacking, and she asked about you, of course… I might have told her more than I probably should, hence her question at the park."
It takes her a moment to figure out what he means. "If I was Sara?"
He frowns for a moment before apparently figuring something out. "Oh, no, she wasn't asking you if you were Sara, she was asking me if… if you were my Sara."
Not "you're Sara", but "your Sara". "Oh. I thought it was a little weird that she was asking you and not me." And his warning makes more sense too.
"Yeah…"
"But you don't think she's matchmaking?"
"I didn't tell her everything," he replies. "I told her that you were an old friend, that we've known each other for years, and that we used to work together in Vegas, before I moved away."
It hurts a little, that he would downplay their relationship like that, but she understands if he wouldn't want to explain to Sam. She might have done the same thing if she were in his shoes.
"Well, if you want me to tell her how much you've been socializing, let me know."
Grissom chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind."
AN: On a (slightly) unrelated note – is there anyone out there who might be interested in helping me out in a beta capacity? I'm not so much after linguistic help (though that would of course be appreciated too) but more someone who can come at the stories from a different angle and spot inconsistencies or issues, possible improvements to the story line, and someone to bounce ideas off of. If anyone would like to help, leave a review or send me a PM and we can go from there!