DISCLAIMER: Don't
own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters
in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!
RATING: T for Teen
SPOILERS: Post Ep for S11XE05
WORD COUNT: 2360
PAIRING: GSR
SUMMARY: Grissom takes inventory before moving on to the next phase of
his life.
A/N: There was
just something about the end scene of "House of Hoarders" that kicked
the plot bunny back to life…
REVIEWS: Reviews are
the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one,
THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten
your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.
ALL THE MARBLES
He
supposed it had always been this way, but he never imagined he could accumulate
so much stuff in just a year.
Cleaning out his meager office in the Sorbonne had proved a much larger task
than he envisioned when he started sorting through the drawers of his desk. Now
on his fifth box, Grissom was finally ready to accept the truth. Sara’s right, I am a pack rat.
One box was filled with nothing but research notes detailing the various
experiments he had conducted during his tenure. Another box contained the
overflow, and a few composition books of notes from his work in Costa Rica. He
was trying to reproduce some of the results from the rainforest in a controlled
lab environment, and needed both sets of notes to compare his successes and
failures in a third set of notes.
After many years of research, he was beginning to see the value in keeping
notes digitally. Sara walked away from nearly two years in the rainforest with
nothing more than a laptop and an external hard drive. If nothing else, he
should consider it his responsibility towards reducing paper production on
several continents.
Sealing the fifth box, Grissom realized he had two complete boxes of specimens
and slides, and had yet to start on his personal papers and effects. There were
also the lesson plans and the lecture notes he needed to finish preparing for the
associate professor taking over.
By the time he glanced at his watch again, it was well into the afternoon and
creeping up on the evening. He looked up from his lecture notes on the rates of
decomposition in varying climates and barometric conditions, and released a
heavy sigh. There was still so much work left to be done, but his time there was
drawing to a rapidly approaching close.
He clapped his hands together and startled Hank into standing, “All Right.” He
pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose and looked at Hank. “We’ve
got to knuckle down here, buddy.” Hank stepped forward to brush Grissom’s hand
with his muzzle. “All of this stuff has to be out of here tonight.”
Hank seemed unfazed by his words, so he stroked the boy’s head and scratched
under his chin which got him another scent rub before Hank went back to his bed
next to the office door. “Yeah, I know… My mess, my job…” He had to chuckle
when Hank dropped his head down over the edge of the bed and snorted lazily at
him. “You’re as bad as Sara.”
He carefully organized the lecture notes and lesson plans in a file box. He
still had more than a week before it all had to be at the printer’s for the
next term. That left all the other ephemera he had collected in a year’s time.
With great care he bubble-wrapped the antique test tube and beaker set he had
found in a little shop outside of Paris. The hand-blown glasswork globe a
student had given him after his first term was packed in a special box to
protect it from breaking. Each of the Jasper frogs which lined the front of his
desk were wrapped in tissue paper and placed in a small box. And he was equally
careful with the glass-boxed Iolana iolas, Nymphalis antiopa, Cupido osiris and Anthocharis
euphenoides. They would make wonderful additions to
his collection, whenever he had a chance to hang it again.
He and Sara had been living out of travel cases and makeshift dwellings for two
years. Grissom was afraid he’d forgotten what it was to have a real home
anymore. And he still didn’t know where home was going to be. Their research
grants had finally come in and the foundation was picking up the remaining
budget for their project.
Sara was supposed to be working out the details of their living arrangements,
and all Grissom really knew was that they were going to be together again. It
was actually all he cared about.
While it was true their relationship was unconventional, and more than strong
enough to handle the miles between them, he was ready to close the gap and end
their geographic separation. What made it even better was the fact that they
were on the same page about his conclusion. Sara was just as anxious as he was
to occupy the same continent, house and bed. She was also anxious to get away
from the world of forensic investigation once more.
Initially, she went back to help Catherine and to relieve her boredom as they
waited for the grant paperwork to make its way through the proper channels. But
Grissom knew there was a deeper reason behind her decision. Sara had to prove
to herself and everyone else that the job hadn’t destroyed her, that she was
stronger than anything it could throw at her. She had to prove it hadn’t beaten
her, and that she could still be C.S.I. Sara Sidle. But more than that, she
needed to prove she could leave it, on her own terms, when the time came.
When the time came, she was more than ready. Unfortunately, he had to wait
until the end of the term. It was probably the longest nine weeks of his entire
life. Knowing everything waited for him half a world away, made those final
weeks pure, gut-wrenching torture. But he made it through, and in less than
twenty four hours, he and Hank would be on a plane to Chicago to meet Sara.
With a great sigh of relief, Grissom slipped the last of his lecture notes into
the briefcase and fed the strap through the buckle. He half-smiled at the worn
leather case and remembered when it was given to him. It was that first
Christmas after Sara came to Vegas. She had been very nervous about giving him
the oddly wrapped package, and thinking back on that day and the way her
worried smile crept up in the corners of her mouth, always warmed his heart.
She had stumbled upon the case at an antique shop and was compelled to purchase
it for him, because she remembered what a mess his previous case had been in.
It was many years before he told her how much that case meant to him, and why
after most of his life he was finally able to retire his father’s leather
briefcase.
Hank patiently observed his master’s walk to the door, with only an occasional
twitch to show his anticipation. Grissom
turned back to look upon the remains. A few boxes, some trinkets, papers and
the memories were all there, but now it was time to leave. Heaving another deep
sigh, he shook his head and turned again for the door. He slowly turned the
knob as he shored up his grip on the case handle while Hank grew more anxious.
With a silent wink at the door, the corner of his mouth turned up to see his
canine companion nervously waiting to see if it was time to leave.
Finally giving the poor dog a reprieve, Grissom patted the side of his leg and
Hank instantly jumped to his feet to meet him at the door. Pulling the lead
from his jacket pocket, Grissom fastened it to Hank’s collar as the anxious
dog’s nails tapped on the tile floor. And just as he was about to leave the office,
he spotted the bowl of marbles sitting atop the empty bookshelf. Chuckling to
himself, he took the bowl down and dumped the wide variety of shooters out into
his jacket pocket, switched off the light and left Paris behind.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
With boxes stacked on virtually every square inch of the first floor in their
red-brick, two-flat, Grissom had never before felt more at home. Chicago was
the last city he ever imagined they would be working out of, but Sara had
fallen in love with it after he had taken her to a ballgame at Wrigley. And
while the housing market in Vegas had been a trial for them, it was perfect
timing for picking up this old Chicago charmer. And the Logan Square house was
ideal for them to live and work in the same space. The selection of
international flights out of O’Hare also meant they could fly to anywhere on
the globe without trouble. Chicago truly was a perfect fit for the Grissoms.
He was busy trying to figure out which boxes were from which move when he heard
a large truck pull up out front. Their house sat at the corner of a diagonal,
which put it closest to the street and all of its noise, but it also afforded
them a decent backyard which he planned to turn into a patio oasis. He could
give up the grass and live closer to the street if it meant he could build a
small greenhouse in the back.
Just as he discerned from Spanish writing on the sides that the stack of boxes near
the hallway had come from their bungalow in Costa Rica, he heard the loud clang
of the moving truck door being thrown open. Apparently their furniture and the
rest of their boxes had finally arrived from Nevada. He was about to take the
first three boxes of his research notes to the back bedroom that was to be his
office when Sara came in through the front door talking to someone behind her.
“Thank you very much for the offer, but it looks like they finally figured out
how to get the truck into the city. I was beginning to think I’d have to get the
furniture in a piece at a time from the movers’ parking lot in Oak Lawn.” Sara
said to the perky blonde woman walking into the house with her.
“Trust me; I know exactly how that goes.” The woman spoke with a slight accent
that Grissom was trying to place. “We had to wait three whole days past the
delivery date for those guys to deliver our stuff from Waycross. Thought I was
going to lose my mind without my nice big TV for my shows. Those people just
don’t understand how much we need our stuff when it’s promised to us. And they
certainly don’t care, either.” She stopped dead in her tracks, and that was
when Sara turned to find him standing there at the entrance to the long
hallway.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sara turned from Grissom to the woman and began her introductions.
“Sherry, this is my husband, Gil. He’s been on box patrol all morning, or he
would have come out earlier.” Grissom smiled when she turned away from the
woman enough to plead with him using only her eyes. Socialization was not a
strong suit for either of them, but it still made him grin to see her trying so
hard. “Gil, this is Sherry from next door.”
Grissom returned his boxes to the closest stack and wiped his hands off on the
handkerchief barely hanging out of his pants pocket. “I apologize for my hands,
but some of these boxes were packed and shipped under less than ideal
conditions.” He held his hand out to her and she accepted it. “It’s very nice
to meet you, Sherry.”
“Oh, don’t worry about the dirt. I’ve managed to stay married to my husband for
fifteen years and the man is always getting into something dirty. I don’t think
he’s actually happy unless he’s making some kind of mess.” Grissom laughed at
her remarks, and was glad to have such a friendly neighbor. “I was telling your
wife that I was upset I’d missed y’all looking at the place before since I was
out of town for work, and when Ham...that’s my husband, Hamilton...told me the
place had finally sold I was hoping I’d be in town when you got here. And thank
goodness I was. Your lovely wife might’ve gotten herself into a world of
trouble with those uppity people across the street, otherwise. Not that I have
anything against them personally, but they were awful to the last folks that
lived here...the ones that did all the renovating on this house. Anyway, they
were always calling the inspectors and complaining about the work trucks.
Hopefully they won’t give you any trouble with that moving van out there.”
Nodding, Grissom only offered, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. They won’t be here too
long, since we really don’t have that much furniture to start out with. You
wouldn’t happen to know a good used office furniture place around here, would
you?” He thought if he gave her something to be helpful with, it might lead the
way to a pleasant relationship with the new neighbors.
“Me? No, we’ve lived here more than a year, but I’m just home so little right
now, I’d probably get lost going to the corner market.” Sara laughed along with
the joke. “No, I don’t, but I bet Ham either knows someplace or someone to help
you out. Soon as he’s done with the lawn I’ll ask him for you.”
“The lawn?” Grissom’s eyebrow twitched up at the term.
“Well, Ham calls it a lawn. I call it a well-trimmed patch of weeds the
neighborhood dogs keep watered.” Another round of laughter passed amongst them.
“I’m convinced the man’s religion is tied up in blades of grass, or something.
Actually tried to talk me into letting him get a great big gas powered lawn
mower for about twenty some square feet of grass. I told him that since he’s
retired he can spend his time pushing one of those manual things over four feet
of grass all day if he wants to.” She shook her head in disgust before going
on. “And you know what that man did? He went out and bought himself the
biggest, shiniest push-reel mower they got, just to spite me.”
Sara jokingly chimed in with, “Well, you know, you can’t keep the boys from
their toys.”
“Isn’t that the damn truth?” Grissom tried not to join in their laughter, but
his restrained grin gave him away and Sara gave him a wink to show that she had
seen it. “Well, I better go check on him and make sure he hasn’t mown off a toe
or something, and I’ll let you get back to your boxes. But please, if you need
anything at all, don’t even try to hesitate, and just come on over, anytime. We
moved up here the same as you, because we just fell in love with this city. And
we don’t have a soul around that’s connected to us, so we know what it’s like
starting completely over with folks. If we can help you two from making some of
the same mistakes we made, then that’s what we’re here for, all right?”
Sara took the hand she was offered and smiled at the ineffably cheerful woman.
“Thank you very much. You’ve been wonderful, and once we’re all settled in,
you’ll have to come over for dinner sometime.”
“Oh, after hearing about your husband’s kitchen exploits, I’ll be looking
forward to that one. And just you remember...anything you need, just come on
over. Ham’s always home and he’s got every tool under the sun. He also needs
something to distract him from tearing up another wall in my house.”
Sherry shook her finger at Grissom, singling him out for her final
statement, and he recognized that her speech was more of an invitation than
anything else. He dutifully nodded and accepted her challenge. “Well, all right
then...” She poked her head out of the door to get a look at the movers. “Looks
like those boys are finally ready to start unloading the truck. I’ll leave you
both to it, then. Take care, now.”
Sara walked to the doorway and waved her out. “Thanks, for everything, Sherry.”
Grissom moved up to stand behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. Sara
responded by leaning back into him. “She was certainly a...lively person.”
Sara sighed with laughter at his assessment. “No, she’s wonderful, but
yeah...that’s a lot of energy, for sure.”
“It does prove one thing to me, though.” He slipped his hands down from her
shoulders and wrapped his arms around her.
She snuggled into his embrace with a casual acceptance that warmed his heart. “What’s
that?”
“That we were right not to get that condo in Lincoln Park.” He gestured to the
tree lined street and the varied collection of brick and stone two-flats. “We
never could’ve afforded this in Lincoln Park.”
“And in such an affluent, status driven part of town, I seriously doubt we
would’ve found neighbors like the vivacious Sherry and the long suffering Ham. Or Bernie the retired postman.” He could feel Sara’s laugh
through her body.
“Bernie?”
“Yeah,
he caught me getting out of the car, and wanted to know if we’d taken the mail block
off the house yet.” She chuckled again before going on, “Apparently the local
postmaster only goes through the neighborhood once a month to see which houses
have been foreclosed on, or have new people in them. So, he wanted to be sure
we were getting our mail before, and I quote, ‘that lazy son of a biscuit makes
his way back around.’”
Grissom couldn’t help it, as he joined her laughter. “Well, all right then.”
“And when Bernie found out I was going to be teaching at DePaul, he wanted me
to know that if we have any questions we could ask one of the grad school kids
he rents the upstairs apartments to. Because they are ‘pretty smart when they
aren’t listening to that lousy rat music of theirs.’”
Grissom had to agree with Sara about the neighborhood. On first glance, he had
wanted to find something in Lincoln Park. It was clean and well maintained, and
in perfect proximity to everything they had come to Chicago for, but the
property values were reflected in that fact. So, Sara, in her infinite wisdom,
started looking for something at little farther out into the city, and with a
touch more blue in the collars of its residents. Logan Square really hit the
mark.
Much of the city’s praise is given to the bungalows common throughout, but Sara
had fallen in love with the lesser known two-flats. She liked the idea of
having a self-sufficient apartment upstairs for their living space, but also
enough room to work or maybe even entertain on the main level. And the garage and
basement afforded them some extra wiggle room for projects and storage. It took
her less than twenty-four hours to convince him that the Lincoln Park condo was
a mistake, no matter how much they both loved the idea of keeping things simple
and clean.
Sara told him it was time for them to put down roots. They had both been nomads
for far too long, and they needed a home instead of just another house or
condo. She wanted to have a little piece of earth she could always fall back on
when the world became too much for her. A place where they could work together
to make it their own, and where, if someone were to ask, “Where do you call
home?” she wouldn’t hesitate to name it. He’d had that as a boy, but he suddenly
realized Sara had never gotten to experience that for herself,
and he wanted to be the one to give it her, so he immediately gave up on the
condo idea.
Watching from the hallway all afternoon as Sara directed the movers from one
room to the next Grissom likened her to a general in battle. While he sorted
through boxes of notes and personal items, she was hard at work picking a strategic
location for every single item brought through their front door.
In one box, he stumbled across a few of Hank’s toys from Costa Rica and
realized that the wily mutt must have hidden them as they were packing. Grissom
was anxious for Hank’s arrival, but he was currently being spoiled rotten by
Nick, because Sara was concerned he would worry himself sick with the movers
and all the new smells if they brought him out too early. And he had to admit,
it was much easier to get everything sorted out when Hank wasn’t underfoot and
inspecting everything he did.
As Sara wandered close to him, he asked, “So, when’s the boy being delivered?”
She put a loving hand on his shoulder and smiled at his canine discovery. “Day after tomorrow. Nick and Mandy are flying out with him
for the weekend.”
“I didn’t realize they were coming out as well.” Grissom was surprised, and
perhaps a little disappointed they wouldn’t be spending their first weekend in
the new house alone.
Sara walked away from him as she spoke over her shoulder, “Just worked out that
way... One of Mandy’s roommates from college is getting married and the wedding
is here, and Nick thought it would be less traumatic for Hank this way.”
“Don’t you mean less traumatic for Nick to have a safety net in case the
wedding festivities get to be too much for him?” Grissom
quirked a brow with his question.
“Yeah, that too.” Sara chuffed at his joke. “He also
wanted to see for himself that we were actually staying put for a while.
Something about not believing it until he saw the proof for himself.”
“Then
I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already subscribed to the paper and put in the
forwarding notices.” He smirked at his own clever comment as he continued to
sort through the box.
As Sara passed him again she kissed his cheek and said, “Always thinking
ahead... I knew there was another reason I keep you around.”
His head popped up with a quizzical expression on his face. “What was the first
reason?” He turned to find Sara staring back at him with a look that would’ve
melted the resolve of any man and he smiled bashfully. “Oh
yeah, right.” She started to walk back toward the living room when he
added, “My keen sense of direction.” He was rewarded for his effort by Sara’s
burst of laughter. Grissom lived for the sound of Sara’s laughter.
They worked that way throughout the afternoon and into the early evening, until
the movers brought the final item to their bedroom and Grissom had paid them
for their pains. By the time he walked back inside, Sara was already unpacking
the things for the closet.
He walked up behind Sara and stilled her arms with his hands before leaning in
to speak into her ear. “Let’s take a break and get some dinner from that little
cafe we saw two blocks down. We can have a nice walk, clear our heads, and I know you haven’t eaten since this morning. What
do you say?”
“I say...I knew I married a smart man for a reason.” She turned her face to his
until he could feel the smile growing on her cheeks. “You get the jackets,
while I wash up?”
“As you wish.” And with that she went into the
kitchen.
Grissom reached into the closet and grabbed Sara’s supple leather jacket and his
favorite charcoal wool one, and then walked for door. He laid Sara’s over his
arm, but when he lifted his up to do the same he noticed that it appeared
heavier than it should. He quickly inspected the pockets and discovered a large
collection of marbles. His discovery made him smile, and triggered a mad search
through a few of the Paris boxes he had left in the hallway.
That was how Sara found him when she emerged from the kitchen. “What in the
world are you doing now?”
“Found it!” He marched into the living room with a stone bowl clutched in his
hand over his head. “I think this will convince our cynical friend much better
than the newspaper subscription.”
Sara chuckled at the sight of him and asked, “What are you talking about? How
is a bowl, while very nice in its own right, going to convince Nick of
anything, other than the fact that you’ve lost your mind.”
“Like this...” He placed the bowl on the bookcase she had located by the front
door and then reached deep into his jacket pocket to retrieve the marbles.
Sara’s laughter increased as he emptied the vast assortment of shooters out
into the bowl with a proud smile splayed across his face.
Laughing and shaking her head, Sara said, “I’m really glad you found your
marbles...but how is that going to work on Nick.”
He strode up to her, her jacket opened to slip on and she turned into it for
him. Wrapping his arms tightly around her once he settled the leather onto her
shoulders, he offered, “I’ve got all the marbles right here...why would I ever need to leave?”
Sara turned from his embrace and quirked her brow when she said, “Not quite.”
Walking over to the bowl, she reached into the pocket inside her jacket.
Producing a very large Indian Swirl shooter marble, dark and opaque with a
brilliant royal blue, red and white swirl circling the sphere, Grissom
instantly recognized the vintage marble. He had been giving out shooter marbles
to his protégés for many years, to impart a lesson about handling the strain of
the job, but Sara’s had been special. Hers came from his own
private boyhood collection of marbles. And that particular Indian Swirl had
been his favorite shooter.
He watched as she gently placed the piece of his childhood on the top of the
pile. “There... Now you’ve got ‘em all.”
Grissom stepped forward and met her at the door, taking her hand in his. With a
soft and loving smile he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss
to the back before he said, “I most certainly do.”