Catherine stood outside the hospital room of the guy who had kidnapped Lindsay. She watched as he winced through pain. Grissom approached behind her.
"Where's Lindsay?"
"The doctor is checking her out now, she says she's fine."
"Thank goodness." He sighed out his held breath. "Catherine…" He thought about what he could say, what could be comforting. Through being with Sara he'd come to be more perceptive to the need for outward emotional connection. But he still couldn't seem to find the right words or way to say it. The struggle endured. "I—"
"It's okay." She cut him off. "She's safe now."
He nodded silently.
Sara left the lab after what felt like a never ending shift. She stopped off to grab a veggie burger from the vegetarian place she likes and then went home. To the home she and Grissom now shared for a few months. He would most likely be tied up at the lab for several more hours obsessing over the Izzy Delancey miniature.
She took a hot shower to wash the day off. Finding relief in the heat and steam. Shedding the heaviness of Catherine's ordeal. She stepped out and dried off, shrugged her robe on and swept up her hair in a clip.
Sara walked down the hall to the study. She sat at the desk and tapped her fingers, deciding what book to accompany her to bed. Eventually, she pulled Jane Eyre from the shelf, something she hadn't read since middle school, but was drawn to it nonetheless. She then opened the middle desk drawer to retrieve a bookmark.
She rummaged through until she came across something familiar. Something she hadn't seen in seven years. Grissom had unpacked the boxes for the study, and he'd placed the photo of the two of them standing side-by-side in front of the Golden Gate Bridge in the drawer. She flipped it over to find her chicken scratch handwriting on the other side with her old phone number and San Fran CSI email. She smiled as she examined it a bit more. Thinking about how he'd kept it all these years and if he ever caught himself looking at it before they got together. She wondered where he'd kept it before they moved in together.
She took the photo and a bookmark along with the book and left the study. Before getting into bed she placed the small photo on the fridge. Eventually she drifted off, the book slipping onto her lap, half opened.
When Grissom did get home, hours later like she'd suspected, he found her in bed, still asleep with the book open and the light on. He stood in the doorway for a moment and took in the view. He felt a specific feeling surge through his body. An electric kind of fluttering that tingled. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He'd felt that surge before. The first time they touched hands. The time she touched his cheek wiping off drywall. The time he turned around at a scene to see her standing there, in person for the first time in over a year, when he'd brought her in after Holly Gribb's. He didn't know what that was back then, but he did now. Now, he knew that feeling by name. He named it love.
This is it. He thought to himself. He took a moment to commit the scene to memory. Sara, asleep in his bed, having drifted off while reading…. He leaned in to catch a glimpse of the cover… Jane Eyre. His brows danced in amusement, having not expected that to be her book of choice.
He quietly made his way through the room, getting himself ready for sleep. Even if it were to only be for a few short hours at this point. Before settling into his side of the bed, he lifted the book from Sara's lap to place it on her night stand. She awoke instantly as the book's weight suddenly went missing from her lap. She was an incredibly light sleeper. Something that followed her since childhood.
"Sorry." He whispered and continued to place the bookmark and set the book down.
She blinked a few times to orient herself, "Hey."
"I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself." He tucked a hair behind her ear then turned off the light. He moved over to slip into bed.
She squinted her eyes in thought, "Ah, of course. Jane Eyre." She rolled over to face him and placed her head on his chest. They drifted off.
October 2006
Grissom and Sara walked up the driveway of a scene. Right past the water delivery guy's breakfast splattered on the concrete. Brass led them through the backyard into the shed. Sara stepped in first.
"I thought this only happened in the movies." She was shocked to see the double homicide in a gory display with severed limbs.
The pair got to work processing. They spent the first half hour mostly in silence. Photographing and collecting.
"Alright, you go first." He spoke as he climbed down off the ladder. Sara was still crouched by a shoe print near the door.
"Okay," Sara went on to describe the scene and how it may have unfolded. "Maybe they were cutting up the furniture when the assailant came in."
"It's a workable theory for now." He continued to snap photos of the scene.
"You know what this reminds me of?" He detected the upbeat change in her tone. This wasn't going to be about the case. "The first time we met." She pursed back a smile. He snapped his head in her direction, lowering the camera as he did. She noted the change in his demeanor. He'd also briefly allowed himself to enter the chat with his non work persona for a minute while they were alone.
She continued, "In San Fransisco, about that double murder in a garage." She smiled as she mused the memory aloud, "I heard you were a little dull as a speaker…" He perked up further as she jabbed at him with her words, "But you can't rely on your first blush." He voice softened at the end, a subtle sultry way in her tone. He saw the slightest change in the deepening color of her eyes. She looked up at him and saw as he looked down and away. Adding, "That was the subject of your talk." To ensure no insult.
"I believe I said first opinions are crucial but if the evidence changes, so too must your theory."
"Exactly." She continued taking notes on the clipboard she was holding.
"But that is not where we met."
Her brows furrowed hard in confusion as she waited for him to continue.
"I was behind you in line for coffee before my lecture." He looked to the left as he reminisced, "I'd never seen someone consume so much coffee."
Sara was surprised by this, having not known his side of their story. "I hardly think you can categorize that as us meeting." She cocked her head to the side.
"Hmmm." He nodded in a semblance of agreement then shrugged and kept clicking away with the camera.
"Sara," Brass' voice caused them both to look up toward the door where Brass was now standing. "Can you grab me this guy's wallet?"
"Sure." Sara easily regained her composure and flipped back into her work tone. Grissom had always been a little impressed with the ease at which she seemed able to do that. He was also very good at that switch, but he'd never expected someone else would be as well. He'd thought it as an element of his antisocial tendencies. Now, he realized the lifeline it gave both of them.
"Thanks." Brass took the wallet from Sara and opened it to find the ID. "He lives a few houses down from here. I'll go check it out." Before he turned to leave he added with a knowing smile, "As you two were."
Grissom and Sara locked eyes momentarily before silently agreeing to not consider the possibility that Brass knows. They refocused on their tasks and sticked to talking about the case for the duration of shift.
Later that evening he would revisit that conversation in his mind as he took the interns through the morgue and talked about their findings on that case. He thought about how he stood behind her, her ponytail bouncing as she walked with her large thermos. How he'd seen her enter his lecture hall head of him. And noted where she'd been sitting. How he watched as Doug openly flirted with her.
All this time Sara was under the impression that it was she who clocked Grissom first. This told a different story.
He looked up to see Sara leaned against the doorframe of the study. "Have fun playing tour guide to the college students?"
Grissom had spent much of that shift taking the crime lab's fall college interns on a tour of the lab per Ecklie's request. And it had been nice to feel like he had students again. Imparting wisdom, explain processes and methods. He'd forgotten how at home he felt in that role.
"I did. It was nice to have students again."
"We all still have a lot to learn from you." She offered with a hint of a smile.
"Our team is well oiled." He rebutted.
"Maybe you should guest lecture somewhere."
"Hmmm" He hummed in agreement.
"I feel like I haven't been home in ages. I'm going to take a shower and go to right to bed." He simply nodded in acknowledgment. "Don't be too long." She added when she realized her initial invitation was lost on him. She smiled and left once she noticed his eyes perk up. He finished the paragraph he was reading and got up to follow after her.