Grissom sat in the PD briefing about the amber alert on two young boys, Jason and Lucas. He could feel the migraine creeping in again. And the medication he'd been taking lately didn't seem to be doing much for him. It had been several weeks now of migraines coming and going and it had been years since he'd suffer such a string of flareups like this. All the unsolved cases lately were surely a large part to blame. The two miniature killings were keeping him up. Now these kids.
He had good awareness of the effect a case involving kids had on him. Especially when they were potentially still alive. He wanted to find them, and fast.
He walked into the garage space that Sara and Greg had been hauled up in. The blasting rock split his head. Grissom turned it off and scowled, "Didn't we talk about this once before, Greg?" His voice left no room for interpretation, the full weight of his irritation thrown directly at Greg.
"I'm the one who turned the music on." Sara spoke as she turned toward him, a small knowing smile flickered on her lips causing Grissom softened slightly. Greg took in the whole interaction.
"What have you found?" Grissom walked toward Greg without another word on the music.
"A gas container. As the heat melted the container, it formed pockets trapping the gasoline inside. Hodges can isolate an elemental markers of the gas, you know Gas DNA."
"Gas composition is only credible if you have clean samples. Otherwise there are too many variables." He lectured.
Sara looked up from the clipboard she had been taking notes on to glance over at the two men talking, taking note of Grissom's tone.
"I know that, Grissom." Greg defended cooly, "What I've extracted was never exposed directly to the fire. So if we can identify either a unique dye or compound and match it to a particular station. Then we might be able to prove if Carl set the fire." Grissom stayed silent. "I'll get this to Hodges." Greg finished and left the room.
"Greg's got the coroner's inquest coming up." Sara spoke once Greg was out of earshot. She looked over at Grissom, "He's been under a lot of stress. Maybe you could be a little nicer to him."
Grissom breathed out with an audible sigh, "I just want to find these boys."
"I know." She spoke with sympathy, "You don't need to take it out on him though." Grissom walked toward her now, getting closer to her. He nodded in agreement.
"You're right."
"I know." She smiled.
In the end, it would be Greg's gas DNA lead that helped them break the case.
"Thank you, Greg." Grissom spoke softly upon hearing the results of his lead.
Greg simply nodded in return and left. After shift that day, Greg and Sara went to Franks for breakfast.
"You doing okay?" Sara took in his demeanor as he finished his eggs and sipped his coffee.
He shrugged, "I'm fine."
"Your inquest is coming up. You feel ready?"
"No. But I'm trying not to think on it much." He kept his eyes low. "I feel like I can't do anything right around Grissom lately. He's always laying into me."
She smiled sadly, "I don't think it has much to do with you."
"Yeah well. It certainly feels that way. Why doesn't take his moods out on you." He quipped. She wasn't sure what to say. He was right. He continued, "That was your music on in the garage."
"I did tell him as much…"
"Yeah, and then he dropped it. Why is that? You think he's still in love with you?" A spark flickered in Greg's eyes as he threw his words her way.
"What? Why do you think that?" Sara nearly spat her coffee out, surprised at his words.
"Really, Sara? You must have noticed." He began and watched as she shook her head with a air of cluelessness, "C'mon. You can't be that oblivious to it. You can tell mostly when he's in a really bad mood. If he has a migraine or a case is under his skin, like today. He take's it out on everyone, including Catherine, but never you."
"Maybe I'm just that good." She tried.
"Cute." He rebutted, "Do you really not notice it?"
She simple shrugged again, "Oh I don't know, Greg…" There was a long silence between them as the waitress cleared their plates.
"Did anything every happen between you two?" He finally asked."You two did know each other prior to working here, right?"
"Greg…"
"Whoah. Really? I was just fishing off a hunch." His brows shot up in surprise. And for a moment she saw a glimmer of the real Greg that he'd exiled lately. The fun-loving Greggo with a spark for life. It caused her to smile. "You two..." He moved his head from side to side to insinuate something.
Sara looked down at her coffee and then back up at him.
"You're kidding me." His jaw was dropped, one corner of his lip curled. "Still? Currently?"
"I'm going to head home, it's been a long shift."
"Mmhmm." Greg, "Side step my question all you want." He smiled at her as she stood.
"Bye, Greggo." She laughed and left the diner.
Sara went home and took a shower. When she exited the bathroom she'd been surprised to see Grissom.
"I thought you'd be hauled up at the lab for a while longer."
He shrugged, "This migraine is killing me." He laid on the bed, his hands resting gently on his abdomen. She left the bedroom and returned with a glass of water and his medication. She placed her hand on his forehead, lovingly stroking his hair.
"Now the the boys are found, maybe you can rest." She offered, still stroking his hair. He captured her other hand with his and held it to his cheek. Breathing her in. He nodded softly and allowed himself to drift off. "Unrelated, you've got to ease up on Greg."
He sighed, "Yeah."
"Grissom." He answered his phone on it's second ring. He'd been sitting behind his desk avoiding the piles of paperwork ahead of him.
"Dr. Grissom? This is Dean Shirley from William's College."
"What can I do for you?"
"We're putting together a temporary seminar series for interdisciplinary fields for our graduate students. I wanted to gage your interest. Specifically we're focusing on Walden Pond. We'll have marine biologists, entomologists, conservationists and literalists."
Grissom listened as the dean explained the six week program they were pulling together, the other scientists they were reaching out to.
"We'll send you a formal letter with the details." She concluded and Grissom agreed to consider the offer. After shift, once the team had solved their cases, Grissom found himself sitting in the reading chair of his office, having pulled Thoreau's Walden from his shelf.
The book always spoke to him. The philosophical reflection on the virtues of a simple life of solitude and self-reliance, the beauty in the way the author narrates the nature and life around the pond. The book serves as bot ha perusal quest for self-discover and a call to action for social and environmental reform. As he read, he reflected on the dean's offer. He reflected on his current state. The unsolved miniature cases, the sleepless nights, the migraines. He'd never taken a break before, but it was tempting.
"I heard the guys solved a double murder?" He looked up from his book to see Sara standing there in the doorway, taking a step further in. He simply nodded in response. "I sat on a bench outside the courtroom all day. They never got to me."
"That sucks." He offered and returned his attention back to the book. He'd been deep in thought when she'd entered the room, and he wasn't quite ready to break that concentration.
"Feeling transcendental?" He looked up again and furrowed his brows in confusion. She continued, "Thoreau. I haven't read him since college."
"Me either. It hold up. I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion." He quoted and reflected further on the belief that true happiness and fulfillment can be found in the simplicity of nature and the freedom of solitude.
"Oh look, you missed one." Sara glanced down to see his abandoned crossword puzzle. She'd finished the same puzzle just a few hours prior while she waited at the court house. "63 down. Misanthrope." She smiled as his face screwed in surprise. For as good as he was in talking in riddles, she often met his match. "I won't wait up." She pursed back an additional smile and left.
Misanthrope, a person who avoids society. He could stay in his office, and read in solitude about living in solitude, or he could go home and have sex. That was her riddle for him to crack. The thought only for a moment before closing his book and making his way out of the lab.
He walked into their home to find Sara using bleach to clean the countertops. She was surprised to see him, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." She quoted Walden back at him. He moved toward her as she washed her hands in the sink.
"You know—" She continued, "If Walden is a critique of the status quo, and a call to reassess priorities, seek authenticity and purpose beyond the confines of societal expectations…"
"Then me coming home to you, is in fact, following that very thought. Not just to favor isolation, he writes, but to find yourself, even if it is in someone else." He finished her sentence and moved in even closer to her. She wiped her hands dry and turned to him.
"Something like that." She smiled and placed her hand behind his neck, letting her finger pads stroke his warm skin.
"I think I'll stay seated on my pumpkin." His voice softened, "But only if you'll join me."
She leaned in a kissed him. And in her kiss he made his decision, he would take a sabbatical to pursue the teaching opportunity in Massachusetts.
"You look like a kid who just found a prize at the bottom of a cracker jack box." Sara walked into the layout room where Grissom was spending time with the third and latest miniature.
"Definitely some kind of doll."
She leaned in close to him, "Sure is."
"Three different views of the same dead doll." They turned to look at the layout room wall, covered in closeup photos of the other miniatures. Sara stared at the images of the dolls. He watched her for a moment, delighting in the face she made when she was deep in thought.
"I haven't seen you in a while."
She shrugged, "Some cases get the best of us." She smiled softly. Showing him that she understood his obsession with these cases. The late hours he clocked at the lab combing over notes and evidence. She turned back to the file he had in his hand and caught the name of the employer of this latest victim, "Mannleigh Chickens?" She questioned.
"What about it?"
She turned back to face him before she left him, "I'll let you know." She pursed back a gratifying smile, "See how it feels?"
He was left standing alone in the layout room, biting back his own amusement.