"I heard about what happened with your mother today, too." Dave spoke as they entered her home. She simply nodded in return. "Go get comfortable. I'll make some tea."
"Thanks, Dave."
When Sara rejoined Dave in the living room, the tea was sitting waiting. She sat on the couch and curled her legs up to the left side, her right elbow propped up on the armrest.
"We don't need to talk about it." He leaned over and handed her the hot cup of tea. She wrapped her hands around it, letting the mug almost burn her hands. The warmth searing through her palms, up her wrists. "But I do want to tell you how I knew to come here."
She nodded slowly, "Grissom?"
"Yes." He confirmed.
"So he knows?"
"He knows you were arrested, and now you're safe. Maybe someone in the lab called him. I really can't say. But he called me… he said he didn't think you would want him involved, to intervene."
"Yeah." Her eyes fixated on the mug in her hands. "Thanks for telling me."
"Listen, Kiddo. I have a deposition in the morning so I need to fly out in a few hours. Take some time off soon, come visit. Harry will be home for winter break in a little while."
"I'm fine, really."
"Fine. Still. Come visit. Susan will have my head if you don't." He gave her a look as he stood, just after placing a comforting hand on her knee. "You're going to be okay, kiddo. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Thanks, Dave."
Dave left the house to head to the airport, leaving Sara to sit on her couch with the mug of tea. She looked around her home. At the photos of her and Grissom that still sat on bookshelves and end tables.
"Hi." His voice came through the phone as he answered her call.
"Hi." She said softly. "I just wanted to apologize…that you got mixed up in the chaos that was going on here. But um… Thank you. You know, for calling Dave. He just left."
"You okay?" The concern and delicacy lacing their speech was reminiscent of of the care that always existed at their cores. Despite the bitterness of the last year, it still shone through both of them.
"I'm okay."
"Okay." He sighed softly. There was a moment of silence but she didn't say a word. She wasn't trying to get off the phone, he realized. "Clothianidin, dinotefuran, imidacloprid, and—"
"Thiamethoxam. Yeah, I saw the findings published in Science, too. Impressive progress in identifying the pesticides responsible for colony collapse disorder."
Her response washed over him like crisp, autumn air. He leaned back comfortably for the first time in what felt like forever. His muscles relaxing, melting. "85% missing rate of the queen bees."
"And an 8-10% reduction in hive size. Fascinating stuff. What did you think of the French contribution? They glued microchips to Apis Melifera and tracked their moments? How does that work, exactly?"
"Exactly," He began to explain the protocol they used, weaving through the hard science and it's implications as she batted off countless questions. Before either had realized they'd been talking for over half an hour.
"Gil." She spoke up at a natural lull in the conversation, "I think I should go."
"Oh… yeah. Okay, uh, Goodnight, Sara."
"Goodbye, Gil." He kept the phone to his ear as he heard the line click off.
2015
Life goes on. It was something Sara was becoming accustomed to now. She'd overcome adversities in her life before. But this one stung differently.
The divorce was now two years behind her. She dove head first into her work more intensely then she ever had before. It provided her fulfillment and she really loved working with the "new" team. She continued to be D.B.'s star pupil, maxed out on overtime regularly and fully devoted herself to her work.
She hadn't completely abandoned her life outside of work, though. She visited with the Crows yearly and her mother quarterly. The most meaningful development in her life, though, was her relationship with Eli Brown. Her late colleague's son.
Last year, while investigating the death of a reverend at Warrick's grave, the evidence lead lead them to Tina. His ex-wife. And when they showed up at her home, they found her condition to be…compromised. She'd fallen on hard times, created a drug and alcohol habit, and Eli was growing up in a house could't turn a blind eye to.
"Tina, this home is not fit for a child. This woman is here from child protective services." Finn spoke as Sara silently watched on by her side.
"What!? No!" Tina lunged toward Eli, but the officer was faster. Placing the child in the car of the social worker as he screamed for his mother. Sara looked on at the scene, her heart absolutely sinking into her stomach. The whole ordeal would have made Warrick sick. Warrick, who she could feel standing next to her right now, looking at her.
"Tina." Sara spoke to her in the interrogation room, she asked Brass to give them time alone, "Tina. I know things have not been easy for you since Warrick died. And I know, we are an easy landing place for your anger. But we loved Warrick. And more then anything, he would have wanted for you and Eli to be taken care of. I promise you, that's all we're doing here. I spoke with child protective services and the court. I am going to be Eli's foster parent while you clean up your act. The last thing you want is for him to be in the system, I mean really in the system. Being bounced around from home to home." She shook her head at the thought. "Eli is always going to need you, Tina. But you're going to need to find your way back first."
Tina began to break down causing Sara to reach across the table to hold her hand.
"You're going to get him back, Tina. I promise you that. The minute you get clean."
And so, over the last year Eli stayed with Sara and the two became very close. Nick, Greg and Catherine's mom helped too. They would coordinate school pick ups and drop offs. Catherine's mom would stay over whenever the job took all three away. The four were a great team.
By the time Tina became well enough to take Eli back, Sara had grown to love being his parent. And only in that moment, did she realize that she really could have been a good mother if she and Grissom had every actually conceived. That whole time, back then, she was so full of doubt. She'd never expected she could rise to the occasion like this. Finding the corners of her heart to be full of warmth and care and attentiveness.
Once clean, Tina changed her tune with Sara and the rest of the team. She was so grateful that Eli didn't get lost in the system and instead spent a year with the only other people who loved Eli's father the way she once had.
So much so, that Tina agreed to allow Sara to visit with Eli on occasion moving forward. Once a month Sara would go over there and spend time with them, sometimes helping him with math homework. Nick and Greg joined on occasion, but not as regularly.
The last time she was there she decided to take a picture of Eli, a lanky, sweet seven year old kid with his father's green eyes, and decided to email it to Grissom.
Gil,
Eli has come into our lives again and it has been really incredible getting to know him. It's hard to believe he's already seven years old. He's incredibly bright and caring. Unscientific as it may be, it causes me to believe that there is something in our genes that dictates our personalities. Because without having ever known Warrick, he's so much like him.
Warrick would be so proud, which I tell Eli often.
I hope this message finds you well. Now that Eli is a more regular part of my life I though you may enjoy knowing that he's doing well.
Best,
S.S.
Grissom took off his reading glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose hard as he closed his eyes. Warrick's image came to his mind instantly. He let it sit there for a moment. Searching the details of his face for the similarities to the photo of Eli that Sara had attached to the email. A small smiled danced on his lips at the thought of Sara spending time with Eli. Tutoring him, being there for him. How amusing Warrick may have found the situation. That the CSI who Grissom brought all the way to Vegas to keep tabs and babysit his favorite CSI—his nemesis originally—would be the one to watch over his son.
"Thank you for this." He replied simply and shot the email off. He stared at Eli's photo for a long while longer.
September 2015
"Sara. I know you're vying for the directorship." D.B. spoke in a slight hush as the rest of the team began to walk off and process the site of the casino bomb detonation. "The stage doesn't get much bigger than this. You want the case?" He smiled, knowing that was all she wanted, "Good. It's yours. What do you think? First blush?"
"Terrorism."
"Why do you say that?"
"Vegas is terrified."
Greg walked over and leaned in toward her, speaking through the corner of his mouth, "That was a very Grissom thing to say."
She shot him quite a look before returning her attention to the scene and began to organize everyone.
"This is what flew out of the bomber's jacket." Morgan spoke as Greg handed D.B. the evidence baggy. Inside, a heavy gold square object with LHK engraved on it's face.
"I think it may be connected to Lady Heather." Greg began to bring D.B. up to speed on a certain sex therapist who seemed to rear her head every several years. "She's in the wind now, though. We haven't been able to locate her."
"What do we think her involvement is here?" D.B. questioned just as Ecklie walked into his office.
"Lady Heather? Again?" He spoke through an exasperated sigh, "What are the chances our Lady Heather expert would lend a hand?"
Greg shook his head, "If he wasn't coming back for Sara… what makes you think he'll show up for Heather?"
He simply shrugged in return, "It's worth a shot. The press is going ballistic and I can't have our prime suspect in the wind. Im—" He sighed again, "Oof. I've gotta ask Sara."
He caught up with her outside in the sunny lot. "Sara!" He shouted her name again as he jogged toward her. "This is going to sound like an odd question… but do you know where Grissom is?"
"Grissom?" She spoke in disbelief.
"Yeah." He confirmed.
"Let me see. Grab a globe, spin it. Look for the blue and pick an ocean. He could be anywhere." She looked at him again now, "Why…" She asked suspiciously now.
"We think Lady Heather is involved and M.I.A. We're getting a warrant for her house as we speak…"
"Conrad, with all due respect, we have this entire building working on the bombing case. Greg and I have a history with Lady Heather. We've got it covered."
"I get not wanting to bring your ex-husband back around but we need his help and you know it. Just—do you at least have his cell?"
She laughed through a shaking head, "Yeah, I do. But I haven't called it in more than two years so I don't know if it still works." She texted him the number as they stood there.
"The city of Las Vegas thanks you."
"Hello?"
"Grissom?"
"No." The man on the other end of the line was, in fact, not Grissom. But rather a coast guard cadet who had Grissom in cuffs, sat on the end of the dock. The man explained this to Ecklie and after a brief chat, the coast guard held the phone up to Grissom's ear. "It's for you."
"It's Ecklie."
"Well that's fun." Grissom spoke with amusement, "What's up?"
"There was a bombing at a Casino last night. Lady Heather is involved in some way and we can't seem to find her. I was hoping to have you consult. We could use the help."
"Well it that's the case, Ecklie, I'll need to come down there. But you're going to have to get me out of this first."
Another brief conversation between the cadet and Ecklie took place before the cadet called over to another, "Let him go."
"You sure?"
"Yes. And give him a lift to the airport."
"It's your lucky day pal. I'd tell you not to leave town but it looks like you're going to Sin City."
Grissom nodded a bit absently. He'd heard chatter about the bombing among the coast guard cadets. The plane had leveled out by the time he had a chance to contemplate what he was getting himself into here. But more than he was terrified of what it would be like to see Sara again, he was consumed with worry for Heather.
It wasn't that long ago, after all, that he'd traveled to Vegas last… to attend her granddaughter's funeral. A drunk driver had hit Alice earlier this year and he knew she was struggling with the loss. He'd spoken to her just a few days ago when she called and told him she was selling off her practice and home. She sought out the wisdom of someone who'd abandoned everything they'd ever known in the face of heartbreak.
Grissom walked into the lab for the first time in six years.
"Hello, sir. Can I help you?" The woman at the receptionist desk was not Judy which took Grissom aback instantly.
"I'm here to see Ecklie. Gil Grissom."
"Yes. Dr. Grissom. He left this visitor's badge for you. He said you'd know where to go." Grissom took the badge and pocketed it, not bothering to clip it to his shirt.
He made his way down the hallowed halls. Memories rushed through him as he passed labs and layout rooms. Though the people were all different. The equipment was all different. Of course he knew life moved on after he left, but it was another thing entirely to see it.
"Dr. Grissom!" A young voice called out causing him to turn on his heels. Her red hair pulled up in a high ponytail. "Oh my god! It is you! Hi! Welcome back! It's been a long time since I saw you last! But, oh hey, check it out! CSI level 1!" She spoke exuberantly. "I did it! You know what the crazy thing is?" She leaned in and lowered her voice, "It's my first day."
He watched as her face glowed with pride, but for the life of him he couldn't place her. Should I know this girl? He rolled through his internal rolodex only to come up completely short.
"Want to take my blood or offer me a chocolate covered grasshopper?"
The memory hit him like a wave. Cresting against him. Sand and sediment stinging skin. He remembered the revolving door of new hires during the couple of years he served as Assistant Supervisor on grave under Brass. Seven in total until he'd finally been granted the green light to hire Sara. Holly was the last new hire he pulled the blood initiation on. He didn't dare do it again. Especially not to Sara. She was too savvy for it, even then.
But this girl, that was standing before him, gushing excitement and youth, was far too young to know about any of that.
"I've got to go. Can't be late on the first day! But, maybe I'll see you around." She spun around and kept on walking leaving Grissom completely baffled. Brows furrowed low.
He shook his head of the confusion and, in an effort to redirect himself back toward his old office, he turned around only to have the wind knocked out of his lungs.
"Sara." Her name slipped from his lips instinctively but in the form of a mere whisper.
"Gil." She spoke back. Her voice was calm but lacked the surprise that Grissom's had.
"I'm back." He offered.
"I see that."
He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He could barely remember how to breathe. His mind was completely consumed by her beauty. Somehow she looked better then he'd imagined. Better then the detailed image of her he kept in his mind's eye. His eyes searched hers. Desperate to crawl into the recesses of her mind to know exactly what she was thinking. Like he used to be able to. But he couldn't quite read her.
"Gil!" His eyes reluctantly pulled away from her to find Ecklie approaching. "Thanks for coming in. Let's step into D.B.'s office." Ecklie moved past him to walk into the office.
"Who's D.B.?" Grissom mouthed to Sara through furrowed brows. It was a great reminder of how little they spoke before the divorce, because even back then, D.B. was her supervisor.
She simply smiled and nodded in the direction to the doorway of his old office, "C'mon." She walked into the office, letting him follow.
"Grissom, good to finally meet you. Diebenkorn Russell." D.B. shot a look at Sara, the act of which was not lost on Grissom.
He took a moment to look around the office, "My brains used to sit on that shelf." Grissom spoke a bit nostalgically.
"Yeah… I traded the brains for mushrooms. Hope you don't mind." He moved on to business immediately, handing Grissom the gold square metal object with LHK engraved on it. "Do you recognize this?"
"Well," He studied the object in his hand for a moment, "That is her logo, but I don't know what this is."
"When's the last time you spoke with her?"
"A few days ago. By phone."
"Guess your cell service is better then it used to be." Sara blurted out bitterly despite the mixed company.
But before he could think to respond or elaborate, Catherine walked in the door. "Gil!" She moved straight to him and wrapped him in a hug. It had been years.
"Sara, your warrant came in." Ecklie interrupted, handing the paper over to her. "Lady Heather's house is all yours."
"Good. Grissom and I will go check it out." Brows among all who were present shot up high, including Grissom and Catherine. Grissom suddenly felt very unsettled. "I'll meet you by the car." Sara left to head to the locker room.
"Good luck with that." Catherine spoke through a somewhat amused grin.
"Want to give me a heads up? What am I in for?
Catherine simply laughed in response, "Beats me. I was already gone when you two split up." She turned her attention toward D.B., silently inviting him to weigh in.
"It's really not my place to comment." But his face revealed that he knew exactly what Grissom was in for. "But you better get out there. She doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"Right…" Grissom looked back at Catherine.
"Go. You know he's right." She said with both warning and encouragement.
The drive to Heather's home was completely silent. She would't be the first to talk, she decided. And clearly Grissom had nothing to say, she realized after 20 minutes passed without a word.
"It's faster if you take Lake Road." He spoke for the first time just as they were nearing her home. His suggestion competing with the GPS's.
"Oh. Okay." Was all she said as the turned onto Lake Road. The GPS rerouted. She hated that he knew that. Hated that he felt so comfortable disclosing that he knew that. Lady Heather had always been a sore spot for her. A heavy weight on their relationship. A mostly unspoken hurdle they delicately danced around at one point.
His eyes fixated on the road ahead as if he were the one driving. Every once in a while he'd sneak a look, a subtle glance her way. He'd been rushed before at the lab and had been unable to really take her in fully. But now, alone in the car, he was able to steal looks, take in her beauty, breathe in her scent. Even with thin, angry lips, she was beautiful. Her brown hair seemed richer, eyes brighter, skin glowing. She looked well. Rested. Happy. She really had regained her life here, he concluded.
Sara kept her eyes forward but she could feel his gaze on her now and again. She became increasingly aware of the tension in her jaw, her shoulders, her hips. Trying her best not to clench. His presence beside her was beginning to unnerve her. They'd been worlds apart since the divorce, since long before it too. Having him in the same town, let alone the same car, now was… throwing her off balance.
But most of all, Sara felt angry. Mainly at herself. She'd spent the last two years compartmentalizing every feeling she'd ever felt for this man. A box in her mind labeled to have loved and lost, where she stored all their memories together. Sealed up and shoved into the recesses of her mind so not to ignite nostalgia. It was the only way she'd been able to move past him.
Or so she thought. But now, having him here in her space, her heart fluttered with the same intensity it had at the very beginning. This isn't fair. She kept telling herself. Not fair that her body so keenly reacted to looking in his eyes and hearing his voice. Not fair that after all this time, she's right back at the beginning despite all the work she's done to move past this. To move past him.
"Wow. 30 minutes in the car. No words. If you were playing that silent car game, you definitely win." She spoke as they got out of the car at Heather's house.
"I thought we were talking." Sara rolled her eyes at his response. The statement he just uttered let her know that in the past two years since the divorce, he'd thought they were still friends. That there were no hard feelings between them.
"Alright, listen." She spoke as they walked up the stairs to the porch and turned to face him. She pulled off her sunglasses, "Before we go in there and deal with Lady Heather, I just want to acknowledge that you and I haven't spoken much since the divorce—or before it for that matter. We went our separate ways. You're doing your Jacques Cousteau thing, I'm in the field. I get it. But you and I are professionals. And as professionals, I think it is in the best interest of the case if we put on a unified front. You know, work as a team?"
She was proud of herself when she reached the end of her sentence. Her voice kept an even pace and pitch, not wavering. Showing herself that she was in control. And it was taking every bit of strength she hand to step up and speak up. To be the bigger person here—despite all of the conflicting feelings she was experiencing in his presence.
"Okay?" She urged to gain any sort of verbal or non verbal feedback from him to show he was onboard. "Let's put on our game faces and keep it professional. See?" She waved her hand in front of her face, her grin getting faker by the second. "Mine's on." She couldn't read him. His dark shaded glasses still sat perched on his nose, obscuring any emotion. Roadblocking any reading she might get on his current state of thought.
"You ready to go in?" She asked. Still not gaining any communication from him.
He watched on as the emotions played out over her face. And while he heard her, he wasn't quite listening. Her beauty was blinding. All he could think about was reaching out and touching her face. Feeling her warmth below his finger pads once more. But he knew he couldn't. That deep feeling of regret bubbled up to the surface again. And without thinking much, or acknowledging the monologue she'd just performed for him, he spoke,
"Seeing you again… left me a little speechless."
The sides-famous eye roll came instantaneously. He quickly realized maybe he shouldn't have said that and watched as she shook her head of the sentiment before walking past him to the front door.
He followed obediently.
Sara looked back toward him. He took in the worry in her posture, corroborated by her quickly unholstering her gun. He stood back as she entered Heather's home, the door already ajar. What they found inside caused Grissom's stomach to drop. Blood pools and spatter. The living room turned upside down.
The home was far too large for Sara to clear herself, especially with Grissom not carrying. So she quickly radioed for uniform backup and the pair returned to the car to wait. Leaning against the hood of the Tahoe.
The silence took hold again. But after several minutes, Grissom decided to pipe up, "How uh, how have you been?" He touched his fingers together in that tentative way he often did.
"I've been good." She nodded, not planning to provide much more than that. "You?"
"Good. Good." He nodded even more hesitantly. He rested his eyes on his fidgeting fingers before speaking again, "You look beautiful."
"Don't" She warned.
"Don't what?" He asked innocently, honestly.
"This. Whatever you're doing. You can't just—after all these years." She sighed in frustration, "It's not fair. Please." Her last word was beggingly soft and suddenly he felt very guilty. But he couldn't understand it.
For him, by all accounts, the divorce was mutual, amicable. He thought she'd be fine, better even. That last year together, or not together really, was so hard on her. Releasing her was the only logical way forward. He assumed she agreed. That she moved on.
The cadets rolled up and began clearing the house.
"How's Harry?" He decided to ask, searching his mind for neutral territory. And he was very pleased with himself when he watched a smile soften her features.
"Great. He's going for his PHD in mathematics."
"Mathematics? I thought he was pursuing biology."
She shrugged, "He changed his mind so many times. You know, Eli's getting really good at math too. He was struggling with it so much last year but now, he's really taken to it. He likes puzzles, too."
Warmth spread through Grissom's chest at her words.