April 2008
Grissom stirred a large stock pot of soup on the stove through sniffles and bouts of coughing. He felt like crap. His head was fuzzy and heavy, his sinuses clogged and swollen. He hadn't felt this sick in years. Last time he had it was just a a month or so after he and Sara began seeing each other. He remembered how she took care of him. How she brought him tea and water and had picked up soup from a great deli a little further out of town.
Grissom hadn't actually taken a sick day in years though. So when he called in the team, they knew he was down for the count. He took a sip from the stove to test the soup but he couldn't taste a thing. Hank whined by his side, watching Grissom closely.
One of his favorite classical records sounded out through the loft. But his phone kept ringing, interrupting the melodies resolve. The lab. Over and over and over again. The case they pulled was of the highest profile right now. It looked like it was related to the gang that was currently on trial. And the Deputy District Attorney, Maddie Klein, was vehemently adamant that Grissom was personally overseeing the case—walking pneumonia or not.
"Alright Cath, show me what you see." He'd finally picked up his phone to be filled in on the chaos. Catherine began streaming photos and videos to his cellphone.
Just a few hours later a knock at his front door revealed Maddie Klein herself, boxes of evidence and files in hand.
"Well you look like hell." Maddie pushed past him and invited herself to the loft. "I need sugar. You got a soda?"
"Nice to see you too, Maddie." Grissom walked to the kitchen and grabbed her a coke, then rejoined her as she'd now made herself comfortable on the couch.
She picked up a framed photo from the coffee table, "How's Sara doing?"
"She's okay."
Maddie nodded knowingly, "I was surprised to hear about you two. Though it did make me feel better that you rejected my advances. Now I can just tell myself you were already taken."
Grissom forced a sad smile.
"You're the only one I trust to not screw this case up."
"My team won't screw it up." He rebutted.
"Right." Maddie laughed through rolled eyes, "Your team. Warrick Brown, got mixed up with a crooked Judge. Sander's ran down a civilian with a department SUV while on duty. Willows lied about being at a crime scene—among many other things. Can't forget Stokes, your straight arrow—suspected of killing his hooker girlfriend. How does it go? You call me up, I get him out of it. If it weren't for me, you'd have no team. The only one void of any real trouble was Sara, and even she has an unbooked DUI in her jacket."
"You done?"
"I suppose." She shrugged, "I was sorry, you know, to hear about Sara's fallout after her abduction. I worked closely with her on a case just a week before, you know. She was a very talented CSI."
Grissom nodded sadly, and Maddie could see the emotion bubbling up in him, past his pale features and red nose. She placed a gentle hand on his knee. "How have you been?"
"She's in San Fransisco visiting family for now. And… I'm okay." He attempted to shrug it off but his eyes sung a different tune.
"What's this?" Maddie picked up a small wooden shadowbox frame that was sitting on the coffee table, about the size of her hand. Inside laid one honeybee, perfectly preserved and underneath it was written October 21, 2007.
"Apis Mellifera. It's a honey bee. I've got an experiment going in the lab's side lot." Grissom spoke softly.
Maddie's eyes sparkled in realization, "You proposed?" He simply nodded in return.
He scrunched his brows, "That's right."
"So when are you getting married?" She asked as Grissom took the framed bee back. Honestly, he hadn't thought about that at all. Just the intent seemed to have been enough for them. And then, with her departure not long after, it just wasn't a priority. Her mental health and physical safety was all he wanted now. All he could muster to care about.
Several hours after Maddie left there was another knock on the door. Catherine.
He coughed profusely as he opened the door for her.
"God, you sound horrible." She took one look at him and decided to keep her distance.
"Hi Catherine." He coughed between exhausted sighs. Hank bellowed past him to see Catherine.
"Hanky Boy!" She exclaimed with joy, "Hey buddy."
"Thanks for coming." Grissom made his way to the kitchen and turned the burner off. "I've got to be in court in 30 minutes."
"Is that chicken soup I'm smelling?" Catherine smiled as she looked around. She'd never been in this loft before, she realized.
"It's my mother's recipe." He called back to her.
"Really? Cute."
"I've got to get dressed. Fill me in, will you?" Grissom disappeared down the hall to the bedroom.
"Okay…" Catherine put down the box of files she was holding and walked toward the front closet as she spoke. "Greg found burnt skin on the seatbelt release." She allowed herself to take a look around as she continued to relay the main points of the case to him.
She noticed the thick book of Shakespearian sonnets that laid open, face down. She flipped it over to see it was open to sonnet #44:
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my food did stand…
She looked at the shadowboxed bumblebee, hank's leash in the bowl next to it, Sara's handwriting on a note "sitter dropping hank off at 1" sat there. She moved on, opening the closet and moving a few of the hangers to better see what was hanging. A few silk bathrobes hung between his zip sweaters.
"Are you still talking? I can't hear you." Grissom called back to her. Rolling his eyes as he did. He could hear her voice trail around the apartment as she looked around.
"I'll uh—speak up!" She called back, realizing she'd trailed off. She turned her attention to the wall to wall bookshelf that took up the entire length of the open loft area. Every inch filled with a book, an artifact or a framed photo. Entomology, physics, forensics, classic novels, poetry. Framed photos of the team, of sprawling landscapes, of the two together with Hank. Another photo caught her attention, Sara at her Harvard undergraduate ceremony, holding a one-year-old next to a man and women that Catherine did not recognize. Knowing about her father now, she cold safety assume these weren't her parents.
She'd found her way to the kitchen, picking the lid up off the stock pot, letting the aroma fill her senses. Then, she paused as she walked past the refrigerator. A particular photo catching her eye. She took the magnet off the photo and picked it up to get a better look at it.
A very young looking Sara and Grissom stood close together in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. Looking at their faces alone, she could easily assume the photo was nearly a decade old, if not older. She flipped it over in hopes of seeing a date, but instead found an old phone number and San Fran crime lab email address in Sara's handwriting. Could this have been when they first met? She found herself wondering as she studied the photo closer.
She couldn't believe how young they were, how close their bodies were. How happy they seemed to be.
"Listen Cath—" Grissom's voice close by pulled her from her musings, "When you're done with your investigation, could you take Hank out for a pee? I've got to get to court." He walked up the stairs only turning around briefly at the sound of Catherine's voice:
"How long have you and Sara been together?"
"I've got to go."
"And to think." She called after him, "All these years I thought you were this lonely workaholic in a hermetically sealed condo doing genius level puzzles all by himself."
He gave her a small smile and conceded, "That photo is from nine… ten years ago. Sara would say we didn't get together until much later though." He spoke with uncharacteristic overtness. His speech unencumbered by riddles or doublespeak.
"But you would say you're together here?"
He smiled fondly at the memory, "In some ways, yes." His brows danced through a series of blinks. He felt the warmth again as he spoke about it out loud. Was this why people shared personal information with one another? To feel this? The thoughts fluttered through his mind. Feeling seen and not fearing it.
Catherine smiled sadly, appreciative of the openness he was attempting with her. "Were you two living together here?"
He nodded and turned again toward the door.
"Gil." He turned back at the sound of his first name tentatively leaving her lips, "You really love her, don't you."
"Profoundly." He said with such thick emotion lining his voice, his throat quivered, "She's my best friend." The left corner of his lips turned upward in true gratitude. "Hey, thanks for taking Hank out. And, uh, could you put the soup in the fridge? Containers are on the left."
Catherine stared at him blankly.
"Please." He added in long after thought.
"I should have realized."
Her response caught him off guard, "What's that?"
"These past couple of years. You were so put together. Of course you had a woman taking care of you." She shook her head in laughter, "You are still the same clumsy scientist with his nose so far down the microscope." Catherine infused a bit more seriousness into her tone, "She is good for you."
The tense used was not lost on him, causing him to smile sadly and nod before turning and finally leaving.
She stood there for a moment, thinking of the life that Sara and Grissom must have shared in the confines of these walls. How after all these years, she didn't know him as well as she really thought she had. And she began to wonder what the domestic inner workings were like between the two.
The house phone began to ring and was quickly picked up by the answering system.
"Hey Dr. Grissom. It's Harry… Harry Crow.. I uh—I didn't want to bother you on your cell so, when you have time give me a call back. Sara said you might be able to help me with this molecular biology experiment I've been stuck on… and well… Yeah, If you've got time I'd really appreciate talking it through with you. You know, Sara's actually coming out east to visit next week. I'm really excited to see her… see if she feels campus has changed all that much since she was here.
Also, if you wouldn't mind, could you scan and send me that picture of her and I from her graduation? I want to make her little something for when she visits. Anyway, I'm going to email you my cell and the Harvard bio labs numbers so you can get a hold of me. Really appreciate it.
Oh, right—the experiment is an investigation of gene expression in Photinus pyralis with RNA extraction and cDNA synthesis. Sara told me to mention that to ensure you'd call back.
Okay, Chat soon."
Catherine smiled at the idea of Grissom taking his teaching role to someone so young. She thought back to that photo she'd just seen on the bookshelf and wondered if this Harry was the baby in that photo.
"Hank?" She called out, no longer seeing the pup by her side or in view. She walked down the hallway calling his name again. She peaked in the first first room, no Hank in the study. She kept walking and peaked into the second room, there he was in the primary suite lying at the foot of the bed, curled up on top of a hoodie. She looked around the room without touching. Just taking in the intimate details she'd never been privy to before, but had always found herself deeply curious about. The art on the walls, the decor on the nightstand. A subtle woman's touch in each corner.
She noticed the pillows lining one side of the bed, and realized Grissom must have arranged them like this to feel like she was still sleeping next to him. The idea of which utterly broke her heart. And when Hank stood up, he revealed to have been laying on top of a Harvard sweatshirt, cuddled up against her scent. She picked it up, curiosity getting the best of her, and smelled it. It did smell like Sara. Grissom must have left it unwashed on purpose. The same photo from the Golden Gate Bridge was framed on his bedside along with another book of poetry and what she assumed to be migraine medication.
"Okay, Hank. Let's go for a walk."
Grissom sat alone with Maddie at the Grand Jury's table after the case was finally wrapped.
"I guess now I owe you one."
"I don't keep score, Madeline."
"You know what, Gilbert. You're the only man I know that has never let me down." His eyes softened as she continued, "Which means you're either a classic enabler or my soulmate." She paused briefly, "Speaking of your soulmate… She might be your only CSI that you didn't wake me up in the middle of the night to get out of a sticky situation. Now she was a phenomenal CSI."
"Yes, she was." Is?
"I worked hard to make sure Natalie Davis couldn't get paroled."
"I know you did. I appreciate that. We appreciate that."
She placed soft hand on his shoulder and it reminded him just how much he missed Sara's touch.
Hours later Grissom returned home from court to find Catherine was long gone. He got himself together enough to take Hank for a nice walk around the neighborhood. It was somewhat short, considering he still felt miserable, but he knew the pup was in need of a good walk.
Now back inside, he sat down on the couch as Hank trotted down the stairs to his water bowl. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the cold medication beginning to wear off. Then, the shrill of his phone.
Annoyed, Grissom dropped the leash onto the coffee table and picked up the phone, expecting the ID to show the lab. But it didn't. He smiled now and leaned back to lay on the couch as he answered.
"Hi." He spoke softly through a wide smile.
"You thought I was the lab, didn't you."
He laughed now, "I did." It felt so good to hear her voice.
"How are you feeling?"
"Still under the weather, but better now to hear your voice."
"I miss you too, and Hank" She added as she heard his collar jingle in the background. "Tell me about your day." She asked of him and laid down herself as he began to fill her in.
"What did you say when she asked?" Sara questioned as Grissom relayed Catherine's investigation of the photo of the fridge and its implications about their relationship.
"Just what I told Ecklie, Nine years."
She laughed on the other end like he knew she would. He loved that sound. A chorus symphony singing to his ears. It felt so good to hear it again. He closed his eyes to allow the laugh to vibrate through him.
"Is there really a part of you that believes that? That we were together back then?"
"In an objective sense, I understand it, no we were not together. But on the other hand…" He smiled at the thought as he spoke now, "The minute I saw you this feeling rushed over me that I had never experienced before. A feeling, years later, I'd learn to label as love."
Her soft breath came through the phone, he could picture her face, the pursed lips trying to conceal a bashful smile. "Years is right." She jabbed and he could see her smile now on the back of his lids.
"I admit I am a slow learner in some key aspects of life."
"I felt it when our hands touched that evening." She admitted, "Before that I just thought you were kind of cute."
There was a long comfortable pause again. A quite space to just occupy the other's presence. She would be the one speak through the void, she added, "I still feel it, even from this distance. I want to be near you, and when I can't … your voice I can settle for."
"I too."
"You have a migraine?"
"How did you—"
"You just pinched the bridge of your nose... I uh, can just tell. I refilled your migraine medication a few weeks before I left. Check the medicine cabinet."
"Thank you, darling."
"Have a good rest." She nearly whispered before the line went dead.