Smoldering Desires

They were coming apart like the frayed edges of a quilt that had seen too many washings and not enough care. Some edges were thread bare, some still had bits of love attached, but mostly the covering was in a shambles.

The former triad of leadership - Gil, Catherine and Brass - had been reduced to a duo. It was all they could do to keep their heads above water.

Catherine and Brass were stressed beyond recognition as they tried to manage There was no supervisor for night shift, and Ecklie wasn’t sure he could find one anytime soon. Even if he hired someone from the outside, they would still be short staffed. Warrick tried to help Catherine by keeping an eye on Lindsey. Nick took up Warrick’s slack with his grandmother. Greg was in charge of keeping an eye on Sara.

He had emptied his bank accounts. Brass flagged Gil’s passport and credit cards. He didn’t expect much for his effort. He was not disappointed. Eventually he was able to convince the FBI to flag his social security number by pointing out that they didn’t want to loose track of the country’s top entomologist. If he opened new bank accounts or made any major purchases it would show up. Brass held out hope that the other man would make a small mistake.

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He found her curled into a child sized ball somewhere between sleep and emotional exhaustion.

He looked around the small bedroom. Intelligent eyes landed on a wine glass. The bottle beside it wasn’t empty and for that, he was grateful. He knew she was drinking more than she let on. Until this moment, he glossed it over, telling himself that she needed to relieve a little stress. The man she loved for most of her adult life had disappeared.

Tough as nails Sara Sidle had given up and Greg could not blame her. In the course of two months she had experienced that healthiest romantic relationship she had ever had only to be dumped unceremoniously. Said lover then disappeared and left no trace of where he had gone.

He looked at her curved form. He reached for his cell phone as he edged out of the room.

“I need back up. I am at Sara’s. I can’t do this by myself,” he whispered hoarsely into the phone.

Sara was not the only one that struggled with tears. None of them had understood how much they loved irascible, difficult Gil Grissom until he wasn’t there.

As his life was examined in retrospect, each found that he was not uncaring and aloof. Even before his disappearance he had protected them, and loved with genuineness and honesty.

He didn’t say much. That wasn’t his way.

He protected. He got them help when they needed and gave them friendship when it counted.

He rescued them from casinos, bars, police stations and themselves. He did not judge or harass. He believed in each of them without question and always stood just over a shoulder with a little smile and a nod.

Stories were passed around in the group.

Warrick
He nursed me through a horrible break up.

Nick
He went with me to buy a new car and got the dealer to knock off five thousand.

Greg
He took me to buy my first suit.

Catherine
He taught me how to invest in the stock market and he slept on my couch after the divorce.

Brass
I slept on his couch when she left me.

Sara
He sang to me as I fell asleep.

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Sara was thin. Thinner than they had ever seen her. She sat on her couch wrapped in a blanket that still smelled like Gil.

Her hollow, vacant eyes flitted from Greg to Catherine.

“What did I do this time?” She mumbled sadly.

Catherine did not have time for niceties these days. There was too much to do and little time. “How much are you drinking?”

Sara shrugged. “Couple of glasses of wine a day, more or less. On my days off more.” She didn’t have the energy for lies.

Greg was relieved to hear her speak. She said so little these days.

“Is this a problem for you, Sara?” Catherine asked coolly.

“I am sure it is,” Sara said dejectedly.

Suddenly her skin felt hot and sticky and she shed the blanket. Catherine took everything in finally, landing on her remaining substantial part, her slightly rounded belly.

Greg sucked in air. How had he missed that?

“You are pregnant,” Catherine said not knowing what else to do but point out the obvious.

Sara leveled her with a vacant gaze. “Not for long. One way or another, I won’t be much longer. Fetuses don’t like alcohol, or so I am told. Whatever the case, I have an appointment Saturday morning.”

She talked numbly. “I started spotting last week. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I figure the baby is mostly gone. I couldn’t keep Gil. I couldn’t keep our baby. What the hell is wrong with me?”

Her fingers snapped nervously in the air.

“Sara, you could still be pregnant. There are all sorts for reasons for spotting. Twenty five percent of all women who go on to deliver healthy babies experience spotting the first trimester.”

Some of the shadows receded from Sara face. “You aren’t just making that up?”

“No sweetie I had spotting with Lindsey’s. Hell, had spotting and was high at least six weeks of the pregnancy. We have got to all stop living like we will never see Gil again. If he walks in the door right now and sees how much weight you have lost Greg’s going to be in a lot of trouble.”

Greg and Sara both let small laughs as the pictured Gil reprimanding Greg for not taking proper care of Sara.

“Maybe I hurt him to much already.” Sara sniffed weekly.

Greg sat next her on the small loveseat, both slender frames sitting comfortably in the indentations they created over the past week. He put one arm around her shoulder.

“Sunshine, there are pregnant women in Paris and Italy that drink a bottle of wine with lunch. This is kid Grissom-Sidle. You think a little wine is going to hurt him? He’s got brain cells to spare. So his IQ isn’t 160. One fifty will do.”

Tears poured down her pale face as she laughed at Greg. Catherine nailed her with serious eyes.

“Sara we need to get you some help.”

“I know.”