Author – Kate Anderson ([email protected])
Rating - PG-13
Disclaimer – Don't own the characters. No money is being made from this effort.
Summary – After his surgery, Grissom wakes up Catherine's face. Is this the way it was supposed to happen? Is this the reality of consequence?
Pairings - Grissom/Catherine, Nick/Sara, Grissom/Sara
Author's Note - My sincerest apologies if this scenario has previously been written. I don't read much CSI fanfic, so I'm not entirely familiar with what is out there.
Also, I am a Grissom/Sara shipper, so those of the G/S persuasion need not run screaming from this fic! It will get better, I promise.
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She was looking down at him, a slight smile gracing her lips. The lips moved, but to Grissom, only a faint sound escaped. His first thought was that the surgery wasn't successful, and that it had only worsened the problem but then he remembered the doctor telling him there could be some minor post-op bleeding. Catherine, I can't hear you, he thought and tried to give his head a shake, to let her know. His throat felt rough and when he tried to speak, no words would come out.
Seeing Catherine, before and after his surgery warmed his heart, though he couldn't help but wish that it had been Sara there. She didn't know though, but Grissom had no doubt that had she known, she would have been there, probably fighting with Catherine to be first one through the door and at his side.
Another face appeared next to Catherine's. Grissom squinted at it, but didn't recognize him. His mouth moved, though he appeared to be speaking with Catherine and not to him. Grissom tried to concentrate on reading the man's lips, but he was still suffering the effects of the anaesthesia. Catherine nodded and disappeared from his field of vision. She reappeared a moment later with a pad of paper and a pen.
Sorry, she wrote. I didn't realize that you couldn't hear me. Pretty stupid, huh?
Grissom shrugged. His eyes felt heavy and he wished that she would just go away and let him sleep.
"Hey, either of you guys seen Grissom?" Sara looked between Nick and Warrick and got shrugs out of both of them. "And where's Catherine?"
Nick and Warrick exchanged glances and Nick licked his lips before replying. "She left a note, saying that she had some personal stuff to take care of. Warrick's in charge."
Sara frowned. "So both Catherine and Grissom have disappeared." she said, her investigator's mind trying to compile the evidence and come to a logical conclusion. "Grissom say where he was going?"
"Didn't tell me." Nick replied. "Cath's probably the only one who knows."
This left Sara with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Since her hasty dinner invitation to Grissom, she felt the distance between them growing. He tried to go about business as usual and pretend that it had never happened.
She supposed that she should take some comfort in the fact that he had acknowledged it. Sara...I don't know what to do about this...
Warrick was talking, outlining the case that she and Nick were being assigned to. Something about three DB's in the desert, or maybe it was four and they weren't in the desert. Maybe there were four DB's in a casino.
"I'll drive." Nick said. "Sara...Earth to Sara. Let's go!"
Sara gathered up the folders that had been placed in front of her and silently followed Nick out to the Tahoe. As Nick drove, she tried to concentrate on the report of one of their previous cases, but thoughts of Grissom floated into her mind instead, unbidden. "Do you think he's okay?"
"Who?" Nick asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Sara.
"Grissom. It's not like him to take off."
Nick gave a careless shrug. "I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he just needed a break."
"He been acting strange to you?" Sara asked, curious if his attitude as of late hadn't been limited to her alone.
"Strange with Grissom is sort of a relative term." Nick replied. Sara stared out the window, they appeared to be heading for the desert. Why couldn't anyone die in the city, in a nice air conditioned building? She didn't feel like standing in the desert for hours today. "Define strange." Nick said.
Sara shrugged. "Out of touch, I guess."
"No more than usual."
"Oh." Sara said softly. Perhaps it was just to her.
Can I bring Lindsey by? Catherine wrote and held the paper up to Grissom's face.
He shrugged. "I won't be here long." he replied. His voice had returned to him, but his hearing had not. It would be a while before the improvement, if there was to be any, would become evident. He was afraid that because he could barely make out his own voice that he was speaking too loudly and that the entire hospital would be listening on this one sided conversation.
I'll bring her by your place then.
He let out an involuntary sigh. He hated the attention. Catherine should be at work with Nicky, Sara and Warrick, not here with him. He was fine, the crime scenes were not. "Fine." he said finally.
Catherine nodded her approval of his answer. How ridiculous. He was willing to let her young daughter know of his problem and yet his colleagues, and Sara, knew nothing. I'll see you later. Catherine scribbled.
Grissom nodded and laid his head down on the soft pillow. Catherine leaned over him and pressed her lips to his forehead. The physical contact shocked him. His intimate contact with women had been so few and far between. Lady Heather had been the last, and her touch had been surprisingly gentle for a dominatrix as she moved him in ways that he had not known he could be moved.
Catherine smiled at him and tucked her pad of paper back into her purse. Then, with a slight wave, she vanished out the door.
"Hey," Nick said. "Isn't that Catherine over there?"
Sara looked up and followed Nick's line of sight. "What's she doing here? I thought you said she was taking the day off."
"That's what her note said." Nick replied and stood up. He brushed the sand off his pants and waved Catherine over.
"What have we got?" Catherine asked. She surveyed the scene in front of her, noting the sour expression on Sara's face.
"Looks like a triple homicide." Nick replied. "Sure should use your help if you're up to it."
"No problem." Catherine replied. Sara looked at her, trying to catch a glimpse into the older woman's mind, and learn what was going on in there. It wasn't like Catherine to beg out of the job, and then show up later, ready and willing to work.
"Is Lindsey okay?" Sara asked, wondering if it was possibly related to her daughter.
"She's fine." Catherine replied.
"Then what?"
Nick glanced over at Sara from behind the camera he was holding. "Drop it." he mouthed. Sara shook her head.
"Hey Cath," Nick said suddenly. "Could you go take a look over there? I think there might be tire tracks."
"Sure." Catherine replied and gathered up an evidence kit. She gave Sara a small smile and headed in the direction that Nick had pointed.
"What did you do that for?" Sara hissed. "You know what's going on, don't you. And you don't me to know."
"Look Sara..."
"Don't 'look Sara' me, Nick. If there's something going on, don't I have a right to know?"
Nick let the camera fall around his neck. "You didn't hear it from me, but Doc Robbins said something about Grissom going in for surgery."
"Surgery!?" Sara exclaimed. "Is he sick?"
Nick shook his head. "No. It's his hearing."
"Hey, you're right!" Catherine yelled over. "There are tire tracks over here! Looks like two sets of 'em!"
"Hearing..." Sara murmured and watched Nick as he walked over to Catherine.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sara demanded. She stood at the foot of Grissom's bed, with her hands on her hips.
Grissom stared at her, trying to make sense of her muffled words and the movement of her lips. "I don't understand you." he said loudly.
"You don't need to yell." Sara huffed and moved closer. "Why didn't you tell me." she repeated, this time slower. "I had to find out from Nick who heard it from Robbins."
"Because I knew that you would overreact." Grissom replied. Short and simple; it was the truth.
"Overreact?" Sully repeated, sounding for all the world like a parrot. She threw her hands into the air. "Is this why you said no?"
"What?" Grissom stared at Sara, wondering if what her lips appeared to have said was really what she said. "No, Sara. This is not why I said no."
Sara sat down on the edge of the bed, looking somewhat defeated. Her shoulders slumped forward and she sighed. "You said no because you really don't want to be with me?"
Grissom furrowed his brow, trying to make some sense of Sara's mumblings. "I need to see your face when you talk to me, Sara." he said, in what he hoped was a quiet voice.
Sara looked at him. "I have to go." she said and stood up. Somehow, Grissom knew that wasn't what she had said. As Sara darted toward the door, Catherine appeared, holding a small, folded piece of paper in her hand.
"Sara, hi." Catherine said and flashed a smile.
"I was just leaving." Sara mumbled and continued with her hasty retreat.
Catherine cocked her head in the direction of the door. "What's up with her?"
"Mad that I didn't tell her sooner." Grissom replied.
Catherine pulled up a chair and settled down on it. She passed the folded paper over to Grissom. He took it and examined it. "It's a card, from Lindsey." Catherine said, rather unnecessarily. Grissom had never thought that Catherine was an artist, but she certainly didn't draw like an pre-teen girl and draw hearts above her i's.
"She wanted to make you one on the computer, but we were out of paper." Catherine said, almost apologetically. "All we could find was this construction paper and some pencil crayons."
"Tell her that I said thank you." Grissom said and carefully placed the card on his bedside table. "They're letting me leave tomorrow."
Catherine nodded. "I spoke with your doctor on the way up. He says that you're making excellent progress."
"I've always been a quick healer."
"I think," Catherine said and then paused for a moment. "I think it might be better if you were to stay with someone. At least for the first week." She held up a hand. "I know what you're going to say, you're fine. You'll be fine."
Grissom nodded; she had taken the words right out of his mouth. "I can look after myself."
"Stay with Lindsey and I." Catherine said. "We'd love to have you. You need to rest, Gil. You and I both know that if you're alone, you won't."
Catherine's eyes were piercing and Grissom felt himself shrinking under her gaze. "I don't need special care, Catherine. I had inner ear surgery, not abdominal surgery."
In response, Catherine pulled a piece of paper from her purse. "I did some research," she said. "According to this, you should take at least a week and spend it at home. You need to avoid any heavy lifting and keep water out of your ears. And you might suffer from dizziness."
Grissom nodded, he knew the facts. "I guess you're not leaving me with much of a choice."
"You got it." Catherine said and tucked the paper back into her purse. "I'll come by tomorrow to bring you home."
"Whoa, Sara. Take a breath, calm down!"
Sara abruptly stopped her raging and looked at Nick. "I'm sorry," she said shaking her head. "I shouldn't have dumped all of this on you."
Nick took a sip of his beer, letting the warm liquid slide down his throat. "Hey, it's okay, Sara. I was just concerned that you might pass out from lack of oxygen. I'd hate to have to explain that."
Sara took a small sip of her own beer, but then slammed the mug down on the table. "I just thought that we might have a chance, you know. Here I was, standing out on a limb and he wasn't even interested."
Nick frowned. "I wouldn't say that, I've seen the way he looks at you. It's just Grissom, you know, socially inept, even more than you."
"Hey."
Nick chuckled. "It's true. I don't think I've ever seen two people so married to their work as you and Grissom. Always thought that you'd make a good couple."
"You want to dance?" Sara asked suddenly. "I love this song."
Nick wasn't stupid, he knew what was happening. Sara was hurt and she was, in her own way, coming onto him. "Sure." he said. He should have said no, but then he would have been a fool.
He took Sara's hand in his own and led her out onto the small dance floor. A few other couples were on it, looking much more comfortable than both he and Sara were feeling. Nick awkwardly placed a hand on Sara's waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"This is nice." she murmured, burying her face on Nick's shoulder. Maybe she had been going after the wrong guy all this time.
Nick slid his hands up Sara's back and touched her dark hair. He felt his body respond to the movement of her hips against his. She was every investigator's wet dream, Nick wasn't going to kid himself about that. "Sara," he whispered. "I think we should go now."
"Your place, or mine."
A strangled chuckled escaped Nick's lips. "Well, I thought I'd drop you off at your apartment and then I'd go back to mine."
Sara clung to him as though he were her last hope of not drowning. "I'm not drunk, you know. I know what I'm doing."
Nick looked into Sara's eyes and knew that she was lying. For one, she was drunk and for another, she had no idea what she was doing. "I don't think so, Sara." Nick said softly. He grabbed her hand that was creeping its way down his back and pulled off the dance floor and out of the bar.
Sara wrapped her arms around herself as the night air hit her bare skin. "I lied," she said, shivering in her tight blue t-shirt. "I am drunk."
"You sure had me." Nick said. "Come on, let's get you home." He mentally cursed himself for letting her drink so much - it wasn't fair to her and wasn't fair to him. Sara grabbed him again, as he led her to his vehicle. He tried to shake her off as though it were something he did all the time, and shoved her into the passenger's seat. "Behave." he muttered and slammed the door shut.
"I can carry my own bags." Grissom stated loudly. His hearing had improved slightly overnight but not enough to allow him to properly assess noise levels.
Catherine raised her eyebrows in a look of defiance and continued to carry the bags out to her vehicle. "Lindsey wanted to throw you a party, I talked her out of it."
"Thank you." Grissom said, shuddering at the mental image of Lindsey placing a silly paper hat on his head and proclaiming him to be 'cute'. He liked Lindsey, really he did, but more in the way that someone might like an overeager puppy.
"It'll be good for her," Catherine said. "To have a male figure around for a while. I'm worried about her."
"Is she not handling Eddie's death well?" Grissom asked.
Catherine threw Grissom's bags into the backseat of her vehicle and opened the passenger's door for him. "Ah, therein lies the problem. I think she's handling it a bit too well."
"Oh, I see." Grissom said. "Well, I'm sure that in time, she'll come to terms with it."
Catherine nodded and pushed her hair back, over her shoulder. Grissom buckled his seatbelt, relieved that Catherine didn't see it fit to lean over and do it for him. He was silent on the drive to Catherine's place, only the faint whispers of life and the slight ringing in his ears keeping him company.
Lindsey had parked herself outside, waiting for her mother's return. She jumped up when she saw them pull into the driveway. Grissom braced himself in much the same way one would if a dog wanted to hump your leg. "Hi Grissom." Lindsey said, slowing and carefully enunciating her words. "Mom said that you can't hear very well."
Grissom nodded. "It'll get better, soon."
"That's good because there's a girl that I know, and she's deaf. She looks very unhappy most of the time, and I think it's because she can't hear everyone talking and laughing. Laughing is good." Lindsey said sagely.
Catherine handed her daughter a bag. "Take this inside to the guestroom, okay?"
Lindsey nodded and hurried inside with the bag. "Sorry," Catherine said. "I told her not to overwhelm you, but you know Lindsey..."
Grissom nodded, though he really did not know Lindsey. Every time he had seen the girl, she had seemed quiet, withdrawn and almost sullen. This girl was almost the exact opposite. "I bet she's a real handful."
Catherine grabbed another bag and failed to stop Grissom from taking one as well. They walked slowly to the house, Grissom was feeling slight dizziness and the flowers seemed to be spinning. He found himself resting a hand on the house to keep himself from falling over. "Hey," Catherine said, dropping her bag and putting both hands on him. "You sure you were okay to leave the hospital?"
"Just dizzy." Grissom said. "Let's not keep Lindsey waiting." He took his hand off the house and carefully went through the doorway.
Sara awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a sour taste in her mouth. "Oh god," she groaned and rubbed a hand over her face. She stood up and promptly fell back down to the bed.
"Shit." she said. "Shit, shit, shit."
The events of the previous day were starting to come back to her. Learning about Grissom's surgery, drinks with Nick, hitting on Nick, Nick driving her home with her hands all over him. It was a miracle that he hadn't driven them off the road.
She tried standing up again and found the floor much more solid this time. Her feet felt like there were concrete blocks tied to them and she thumped across the floor and into the bathroom. Her reflection greeted her with red eyes and puffiness. "Yuck." Sara muttered. She turned on the shower taps and as the water warmed up, she threw off her clothes.
Sara found herself almost dozing off in the shower numerous times. Once the water finally became too cold to bear, she turned off the taps and after wrapping a towel around herself, she stepped out, drying her feet off.
If she remembered correctly, and she wasn't sure that she was up to trusting her memory, then she wasn't on the schedule until tonight. That gave her the entire day to wallow in her misery, which was just great, of course. She threw on a pair of old sweats and a ratty t-shirt, not bothering to even run a brush through her hair. "You look terrible, Sidle." she muttered.
As Sara was getting ready to flop down on the couch to begin her day of misery, the phone rang. Sara stared at it as though it were a foreign entity. It was probably Nick, calling to see how she was doing. "Hello?" Sara said.
"Hey Sara," It was most definitely not Nick. Unless Nick had some changed his voice to sound suspiciously like Catherine's. "It's Catherine."
"Hi Cath," Sara said wearily.
"I just wanted to let you know that Grissom's staying with me for a while and I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight?"
"Excuse me?" Sara said. A dinner invitation from Catherine was like the Pope propositioning you for sex.
"It was Lindsey's idea, actually but I think that Grissom's feeling bad about the whole not telling anyone thing and well, a dinner might be a good way to smooth things over."
"I have to work tonight." Sara said, grateful that she had an out.
"I checked the schedule, you're not on until 11:00. That gives us plenty of time." Catherine said insistently.
"I don't know Cath, I'm not really good with the whole socializing thing."
"It's Grissom, Lindsey and I, Sara. I would hardly call that socializing."
"Well..." Sara said hesitantly. "I guess so. What time should I be over at?"
"Let's make it six?"
"Six it is." Sara said and then hung up the phone without even bothering to say a good bye. She let her head fall back against the cushion and groaned. "Way to go, Sidle." she muttered. "You're finally getting your dinner with Grissom. Too bad Catherine and Lindsey will be there as well."
Grissom sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine that he found on the coffee table. He wasn't interested in the subject matter, How To Get Your Perfect Swimsuit Body!, he was using it more as a shield. Catherine would occasionally wander up to him and ply him with an offer of food, or drink. This time when she appeared, he half expected her to open his mouth and forcefully stuff a piece of toast down his throat. Instead, she settled down on the couch beside him.
"We're having company for dinner." she said with a smile.
Grissom raised an eyebrow and wondered if he'd read that correctly. "Did you say company, for dinner?"
Catherine nodded. "Sara. I thought maybe you two could smooth things over. It seemed a little tense in the hospital room when I arrived. There isn't anything going on between you two that I should know about, is there?"
"Of course not." Grissom replied.
Catherine smiled again, more because she didn't know what else to do than because she was pleased with the response. "Well, now that you know, I guess that I should get something cooking...or maybe I'll just order in..."
Catherine stood up and wandered away, mumbling to herself. Grissom picked up the magazine again and began to skim through the articles once more.
Time seemed to pass more slowly than it should have. Grissom grew tired of Catherine's magazines and longed for a juicy forensic journal. He was tired of hearing only muffled sounds and it was beginning to frustrate him. Lindsey was attached to the computer, playing some colourful game. Grissom paused and peered over her shoulder, trying to make some sense of the multicoloured flashing. Lindsey had her tongue peeking out from between her front teeth as she concentrated on moving her pointer just so.
The knock on the door was an almost welcome reprieve from the immense boredom. Catherine zipped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel, looking for all the world like a housewife. The image startled Grissom a bit, shaking up everything he thought he knew about her.
Grissom stayed back as Sara entered. He examined her, noting how utterly exhausted she looked. Catherine took her jacket and hung it up in the closet and Sara kicked off her shoes by the front door. She saw him, hanging back and smiled at him, as if letting him know that she was alright, he could approach her. He did so slowly, taking small steps.
"Hi." Sara said, once he grew close enough to be able to fully read her lips. It was interesting, he could hear more of Sara's voice than he could of Catherine's.
"So, staying here for a while?" Sara asked.
Grissom nodded. "She's keeping me tied up."
Sara raised a surprise eyebrow. "Oh, well I hear that you're into that kind of stuff."
Before Grissom could formulate a reply, Catherine appeared wearing a huge smile. "Dinner's ready." she said and clapped Sara on the shoulder. "Hope you like lasagne."
Sara frowned. "Oh, I don't eat meat..."
"I know," Catherine said. "It's vegetarian. Lindsey, wash your hands for dinner!"
"In a minute..." came Lindsey's mumbled reply. "I just have to finish this level."
Grissom followed Catherine and Sara into the dining room. You and me, and the devil makes three... he thought as he was seated between the two women. Though which one was the devil was up for debate.
"Looks great, Cath." Sara said with a genuine note of honesty in her voice.
"Well, dig in everyone." Catherine said. Grissom half expected her to clap her hands as she said that. She didn't, thankfully, but she did watch everyone as they lifted out a piece for themselves, with a huge grin on her face.
"Oh hey, Sara. There you are. I was startin' to think that you might not show."
Sara gave Nick the best glare that she could muster on such short notice. "Why wouldn't I show?"
"Well, you know. You were pretty out of it when I left you at your place last night."
Sara flopped down in a chair. "I just had dinner with the happy couple." she muttered.
"The happy couple?" Nick repeated dumbfounded.
"Grissom and Catherine. He's staying with her for a while, until his hearing fully returns. They invited me over for dinner so that I could watch them shamelessly flirt over lasagne that was too runny."
Nick rolled his eyes but was stopped from replying by Warrick strolling in, carrying a pile of folders. "Well boss, what are our assignments?" Nick asked.
"Apparent drive-by shooting." Warrick replied and gave the address and details. "Nick, you and Sara can check that one out."
"Great, love to." Sara muttered.
Warrick leaned over to Nick and whispered, "What's up with her?"
"Guy trouble." Nick replied. "I can hear you." Sara muttered. "I'm not deaf."
"Hey, before you go," Warrick said. "Either of you two know when Catherine's coming back to work? And by that I mean, not just randomly showing up at crime scenes."
"She's babysitting Grissom." Nick replied. "According to Sara anyway."
Warrick frowned and ran a hand over his hair. "Damn. I pity her."
Sara was standing up, tapping her foot impatiently. "Let's go." she said and stared at Nick.
"The body's not getting any deader."
"The longer we wait, the more contaminated the scene gets." Sara said and disappeared out the door.
"So, that was nice." Catherine said. Grissom dried the last dish and put it away in the cupboard. "Don't you think so?"
"Sure, I guess." he replied and hung the towel up over the oven handle. He smoothed out the creases and faced Catherine again. She yawned and then gave him an embarrassed, apologetic look.
"All that cooking really has worn me out." she said.
"Get some rest."
"Same goes for you." Catherine said and touched Grissom's cheek with the tips of her fingers. "You look pretty bagged yourself."
Grissom shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I slept too much in the hospital."
"Promise me that you won't run off into the night if I go to bed?"
"Promise."
Catherine smiled and then before Grissom could process what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. He froze with the contact and stared at her, trying to understand her motives. "Good night." she said softly.
He couldn't reply. The muscles required for speech had up and abandoned him. Catherine sashayed out of the kitchen, leaving Grissom to grab the counter for support.
He eventually found his way into the living room and back onto his seat on the couch. He pulled through the pile of magazines again, eager to read anything to take his mind off what had just happened. Near the bottom of the pile, he discovered a magazine that he had missed reading earlier. It appeared to be some sort of alternate science journal.
Intrigued, he flipped through it, noting the articles on telepathy and the possibility of alternate worlds.
In understanding the concept, think of this: For every decision that you have made, there is a world in which you made the opposite choice. For instance, if you chose to not call in sick to work this morning, there is a world in which you picked up the phone and made the call.
The possibility fascinated him. It would mean that somewhere, there was a Grissom who had accepted Sara's dinner invitation. A Grissom who had informed Sara of his hearing problem. A Grissom that had not been greeted by Catherine's smiling face after the surgery but by Sara's.