Part 11/?
"Jim, what happened out there?"
Brass frowned at Grissom, not understanding what he
was referring to.
"At the crime scene. How did the mother gain access
to a sealed scene? Sara shouldn't have been put at risk
like that; none of us should have."
"Grissom." Catherine overheard his last statement as
she walked down the hallway and deliberately called
out his name to break the impending confrontation.
Catherine watched the two men; the air around the pair
literally sizzled with tension.
He looked up, surprised to find her standing there.
"Where is she?" Grissom looked past Catherine, his
hooded eyes searching for Sara.
Brass took this as his cue to leave. "I'll talk to you
later, Gil."
Grissom nodded his head distractedly, pushing aside
his concern about the lack of crime scene control.,
keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Catherine.
"I convinced her to lie down in the briefing room for
now." Catherine turned on her foot and waited a
moment for Grissom to follow. "Warrick went with
her. She saw the interview with the kid."
Grissom sighed and inclined his head slightly towards
Catherine as he said softly, "How did she take it? Is
she okay?"
"Physically? She's got a scaphoid fracture, whatever
the hell that is. Doctor says she'll be fine. By the way,
you were right about her hearing. She's got tinnitus
from the gunshot. It should clear within a couple of
days - a week at the max.." She stated the facts
succinctly, her tone softening the bluntness of the
words and her hands flowing in a smooth dance as she
spoke.
" Oh, and she has a headache. Although, she claims
that she had that before she went to the crime scene.
Emotionally? I don't think she's good. I was going to
take her home, but given the time, I think you should."
Catherine ran through the details quickly as they
walked together. Her last words stopped Grissom in
his tracks.
"Me?"
"Yeah, you." Catherine faced him and her eyes
challenged him to take up the opportunity; either to
talk with Sara or at least to take care of her for today.
"Our shift is virtually over. I need to go home to
Lindsay."
Grissom nodded, understanding not only her
responsibility but also her need. After dealing with a
case like this, you wanted to draw your family close
around you, to assure yourself that you were safe from
the evil that inhabited the streets you tried to protect.
Catherine was right, it was time for him to take
responsibility and ensure that Sara was going to be
okay.
"Here, give this back to her." Catherine took Sara's
watch out of her pocket and dropped it into the palm
of his hand. "Ask the right questions and you may
find the answer you have been looking for."
"With a broken watch?" Grissom raised an eyebrow,
confused by what significance the watch could
possibly hold.
"Sara mentioned that it was a reminder - a reminder to
pay attention. Gil, she's having nightmares."
"I know. She told me."
"She did? When?"
"When we investigated that guy who shot and then
dumped his wife's body in the mountain; Scott
Shelton. She was having trouble sleeping, putting
herself in the place of the victim."
"I don't think that's it; not this time." Catherine shook
her head to emphasise her words. "She called out the
name Naomi several times before she woke up with a
scream. I think it's much more personal."
"So, how do I deal with it? I can't just ask her."
"You're going to have to work it out. Sara trusts you.
You've got history which will serve in your favour. If
it's personal, she'll open up to you more than me.
Trust your instincts. It works with your cases - why is
it so difficult for you to do the same with Sara?"
Grissom fingered the watch, running his thumb over
the cracked and scratched face. He'd noticed Sara
wearing the watch previously, the loose band falling
over her latex gloves frequently at a crime scene.
"Because it is Sara," he thought to himself, the skin on
his thumb catching slightly on the rough watch face.
Catherine watched him silently, knowing that an inner
struggle was taking place. "I'll go and get her bag."
<><><><><>
Warrick sat on the couch in the break room, silently
channel surfing as he watched over his sleeping
colleague. It had surprised him when she had offered
no resistance to Catherine's suggestion and even more
so, that she had actually fallen asleep.
"Hey man, what's with watching TV? There's work
to be done," Nick said, his voice booming in the
silence.
"Shhh." Warrick whispered, pointing towards the
sleeping form on the opposite couch.
"Wow. She's sleeping. Greg provide you with some
valium?" Nick chuckled as he dropped down on the
seat beside Warrick. "Seriously, what's the secret?"
"Have no idea. She crashed as soon as she laid
down."
"She really must be hurt."
"Cath only mentioned a fracture. I think it's
exhaustion."
"Miss 'let's work three days straight' Sidle?" Nick
asked him, incredulously.
"Good point. Maybe Greg did slip something into her
drink."
Grissom entered the break room, his eyes questioning
as he found Nick and Warrick both sitting on the
couch opposite Sara.
"She's okay, Griss. She's just sleeping," Warrick
reassured him.
Grissom watched as she slept. It wasn't the first time
that he had caught her asleep, although it was the first
time she had adopted a more comfortable position. It
still wouldn't be as comfortable as her own bed. He
leaned over her and brushed his hand against a stray
lock of hair, the softness delicate against his rough,
calloused fingers. "Sara."
No response. Crouching down, he tried again, saying
her name a bit more loudly this time and running his
hand down the side of her face. "Sara."
She looked up at him groggily, her eyes slipping shut
again.
"Sara, c'mmon." Grissom shook her shoulder gently.
"You need to go home. Sleeping here is not an
option."
Her eyelids fluttered open again, narrowing as they
absorbed his presence in front of her. "Grissom?"
"Yes, Sara. How about I take you home?" Grissom
gave her a small, uncertain smile.
"Comft'ble here," she slurred, curling herself up into
a tighter ball, closing her eyes once more.
"No, you can't sleep here, not tonight." He shook her
shoulder again, forcing her to open her eyes again.
"Slept 'ere plennie of times."
"Hmm, well, maybe I'm changing your sleeping
habits." Grissom watched her for a moment, her
lethargy unusual. "What painkillers did they give
you?"
"Dunno... but, they're good."
"So I've noticed." Grissom pulled out his cell phone
and hit the speed dial. "Cath, what pain meds did the
hospital prescribe?"
"I don't know. She's got a bottle of painkillers in her
jacket. Why?"
The sound of her voice resounded loudly in the room.
Grissom turned around to find Catherine placing
Sara's bag on the table, cell phone in her hand.
"Sara's almost out cold," Grissom said, his voice
tinged with concern. He fished through the coat
hanging over the end of the couch. He turned the
bottle in his left hand until he could read the label. "I
know what the problem is now, Catherine," Grissom
told her with a small shake of his head.
"Care to let us in on the secret?" Nick interjected into
the two-way conversation.
"Sara takes antihistamines. It's increased the sedative
effects of the Doxolene in the painkiller. She's going
to sleep for quite a while."
Warrick frowned, pondering the statement. "Since
when?"
"Huh?"
"Since when has Sara had allergies."
"Years... pollen," Grissom told him, distractedly. It
worried him that she had not thought about the
interaction of the two drugs. Sara was more careful
than that; had always double checked any medication
that she was prescribed. In actual fact, he recalled
how difficult it was to get her to take anything other
than her antihistamines.
"Grissom, she needs to go home," Catherine reminded
him, softly. She moved alongside him and handed
him Sara's bag and keys.
"Warrick, can you give me a hand getting her out to
my car?" Grissom bent down beside Sara again,
intending to wake her enough that he would be able to
get her into his car.
"Griss, don't." Warrick touched Grissom's shoulder
lightly, stopping his hand from reaching out and
giving their sleeping colleague a gentle shake. With a
swift swoop of his arms, Warrick easily scooped Sara
up
into his arms, her weight causing him less exertion
than one of his weight workouts.
Grissom expected a protest to emanate from the
quiescent figure. He was surprised when she only
snuggled in closer and mumbled about being cold.
Something about her actions made him feel lost in a
sea of emotion. He wished that he had thought to pick
her up rather than try to wake her; to have had the
height and the guile to have completed the action as
swiftly and with the confidence Warrick exhibited.
"Gil, your car keys?" Catherine asked, looking at him
inquisitively.
Grissom quickly wiped any emotion from his face.
Catherine had an intuitiveness that defied definition.
He really didn't need her on his case about Sara any
more than she already was. Catherine was a romantic
at heart and... 'Where did that come from?' Grissom
thought as he dangled the keys to his car in his hand
and followed the entourage out to the parking lot.
End Part 11/?