Kinky

Chapter Five

Anne had insisted that Sara get at least a few hours sleep before she went round, and Sara surprised herself by obeying. She crawled between the sheets of her bed and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. It was no new thing for her to lay waiting for sleep, wondering how it was that everyone else in the world seemed to find it so easy. They just closed their eyes and then… something. Somehow they magically dropped into sweet repose, completely taking for granted the simplicity of the act. She used to think that there was some trick that she’d missed out on. Something she was supposed to say or do; a magical incantation that she had never learnt. She was nine when she heard that bad people didn’t sleep well at night. It slotted in so neatly with the self image her parents had nurtured in her that it had remained a foundational belief well into adulthood. Even now Sara didn’t often bother going into her bedroom, preferring to sprawl out on the couch with a book until sleep finally caught her, as if to convince herself her lack of sleep was out of personal choice.

Today was different though. As she breathed in the clean smell of the sheets, she reran some of the Grissom moments of the week, one of her favourite pass times. Although she knew all too well that nothing would ever happen between them, Sara loved remembering the little looks, the throwaway comments, holding those moments close when she needed comfort. She had told herself not to overanalyse Grissom’s request for her to spend some time with his mom, and had since spent every available opportunity doing just that. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he was nervous when he asked her. Plus the look of pure hatred that he’d shot at Thayer had slipped past his usual mask of indifference. And the way he had looked at her when she’d agreed. The look in his eye; it was one that she hadn’t seen for many years, not since San Francisco. With that lingering thought in her mind, Sara was surprised to feel her eyelids drooping as sleep claimed her quicker than it had in many months.

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Sara arrived at Grissom’s house for the second time in three days with a swing in her step. She felt refreshed from her nap and was looking forward to spending some more time with Anne Grissom. She had never thought of herself as lacking a mother figure in her life before now. Her childhood experiences told her she wasn’t missing out on much and years as a CSI had only reconfirmed her suspicions. Anne was different though, she thought to herself as she opened the door. There was something so calming about her, so genuine. Grissom has given Sara a key as Anne wouldn’t be able to hear the doorbell; a fact that she studiously trying not to read into, but still she felt nervous entering his house unannounced.

She found Anne in the living room looking through old photo albums. Sara caught a faraway look in the other woman’s eye, but as soon as she began to analyse it Anne registered her presence and her face closed up in a frustratingly familiar way.

“Hello, Sara.” No trace of the previous wistfulness remained. “I’ll make us some lunch.” Sara followed Anne into the kitchen. She had been surprised last time at how much she had enjoyed the impromptu cooking lesson. It had evoked long suppressed memories of her mom and various other foster mothers. There was something so homely and warm about it, that she found herself losing herself in the simple cutting tasks that Anne assigned to her. A gentle, easy silence enveloped them as they worked and Sara found herself wanting to sigh the pleasurable sigh of lazy days and coming home after long journeys.

“So how has work been?” Anne said finally. “Gilbert tells me the killer is still on the loose. He doesn’t like to talk about work at home all that much. It seems to make him so sad; sometimes I wonder why he does it at all.” She gave a tight smile, as if she felt she had shared too much. Sara’s mind was reeling. She knew how Grissom got about the odd case, but she had never thought of it affecting his personal life. One thing had become clear to her in the last few days; whatever past arrogance had led her think she knew Grissom, and knew what was best for him, had been greatly mistaken. She felt that she had learnt more about him in these five days than in the previous five years, and yet somehow loved him all the more for it. After all how could you truly love someone until you knew them?

“We’re having a Christmas party for the night shift.” Sara finally hit upon a subject that was safe for them both, and was rewarded with the bright smile that lit the older woman’s face, revealing the beauty that was once unmistakeable.

“I know, I told Gilbert that it would make sense to host it here.” Sara watched on in wonder as Anne dished up perfection in omelette form. It all seemed so easy, simple ingredients, simple procedure, hell she made more complex mixtures in the lab, yet despite all that Sara could have sworn that cooking was at least ninety percent witchcraft.

“Really? That would be great…except… Did Grissom actually agree to that?” Sara asked cynically. Grissom and parties did not go well together in general. A party he couldn’t leave? Now that would be worth seeing.

“I didn’t ask him.” Anne winked at her and Sara chuckled. They took their plates into the dining room to eat. It felt nice. At home Sara would sit on the couch to eat, if she bothered at all. Sitting at the table, sharing a meal, such basic elements that she hadn’t even noticed were missing from her life until she met Anne. It felt like she was sharing something with her, creating a bond between them. Then Sara took a bite of her food and forgot all thought that had gone before it. God damn, she had forgotten food could taste this good. She tried to stifle the moan of appreciation, but the grin on Anne’s lips showed it was unnecessary.

“I was wondering if you would help me organise everything for the party?” Anne asked as they ate, her blue gaze holding Sara’s gently but firmly.

“Anne… I don’t know… Organising a party? Social events are really not my strong point. You’d be better off asking Catherine.” Sara did not want to refuse the woman anything. In a few short days she had come to regard her as a friend, one of the very few she had made since coming to Vegas, she did not want to lose her friendship. In fact if it weren’t that she had managed to pick on the one thing that Sara could not seem to master despite all her efforts, social interaction, she would have agreed in a heartbeat.

“I thought it would be something we could do together. I enjoy our talks so much and this would be the perfect excuse for us to spend some more quality time together.” Sara was fast realising how hard it was to say no to Anne. If Grissom couldn’t do it, what chance did she have? Besides, it wasn’t as if she was loathe to spend more time with Anne. Far from it.

“That would be lovely.” She agreed with a polite smile, inwardly promising herself that she would not let Anne Grissom down. This would be a party to remember.
“Good. I’m glad. Hopefully this will give Gilbert a chance to get to know you on a more personal level, as a woman as well as a scientist.” Anne gave a grin that spread a red blush across Sara’s cheeks. The younger woman desperately tried to maintain her cool.

“Anne…” She started in warning. Anne immediately threw up her hands in mock surrender.

“Pay no mind to the wishes of a frail old lady.” Sara looked at her for a whole beat before relaxing. She was definitely a smart one, that Sara Sidle. Not one to take people at face value. She was going to be the hardest one in her plan to control, Anne thought with some pride. It only made her more certain that she was the one.

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Grissom told himself he had no choice but to call Sara in, it had nothing to do with needing to find out exactly what had happened between Sara and his mom. Those two were as thick as thieves and it was not sitting well with him at all. Sure he had been the one to suggest that they spend more time together, but this party idea that had been all but thrust upon him stank of meddling and womenfolk. It was definitely time to call an end to this unlikely partnership before he found himself up to his neck in their plots. He had almost certainly let Sara in too far as it was. He couldn’t trust himself around her without the rigid roles and rules that held them apart at a safe distance, dictating their speech and behaviour with no room for emotion or feeling.

He felt a momentary twinge of guilt when he caught sight of Sara’s tired face that quickly vanished when he took in her sleep tousled hair, only to be replaced by precisely those feelings their work environment was supposed to suppress.

“Five DBs. Two male, three female. Looks like some kind of wife swapping party gone wrong.” He didn’t trust himself to make small talk just yet. It was definitely safer to talk shop. Sara set her kit down with an audible sigh.

“I thought Nick was on call.” Her voice was precariously balancing on the knife edge between tight annoyance and all-consuming Sidle rage.

“I don’t need Nick.” Sara never knew what to say when he did that. It was Grissom’s most frustrating talent that he could always seem to say exactly the right thing without giving himself away in the slightest. She shook her head lightly behind Grissom’s back, realising all her anger had gone. He never stuck around long after a comment like that.

“Five victims; fits with the pattern, unusual to have an odd number for a swingers party though.” Sara began to print a cocktail glass that contained the five wedding rings of the victims, following Grissom’s lead and sticking with shop talk. “Five gold rings. Seven days to go…”

“Traditionally the twelve days of Christmas run from Christmas Day to the sixth of January, Epiphany, when Christians celebrate the wise men arriving at the stable to worship the baby Jesus.” Grissom didn’t look up from the body of the girl he was photographing as he spoke. Having called her out at 3am on her night off, he now appeared to be doing his level best to ignore her entirely.

“Smart doesn’t necessarily mean educated.”

“True, but deadly doesn’t necessarily mean smart either. The killer has given us our first real lead.”

“Well five rings and five bodies at a party designed for couples… I’m going to say the missing husband.” Sara replied without missing a beat. Grissom’s face lit with pride and something else. He loved working with her. Theirs was a connection unlike so many people he worked with. It was like one mind wrestling with itself to find the answers. As quickly as the moment had descended, it was abruptly burst by Grissom’s pager.

“Catherine.” He muttered to himself. Clearly she was too self-important to ring him anymore. She had been lying low since her eruption in the staff meeting. Grissom had satisfied his conscience by checking the break room. She wasn’t there, so now it was down to her to find him. Sara looked at him sympathetically, which raised his level of irritation for reasons unfathomable. He ignored her to continue processing the scene, suddenly regretting his decision to call her out tonight. The weather-beaten battlements of his defences that had served him for decades were crumbling like silt wherever she chanced to lay her hand.

“So your mom said you guys are hosting the Christmas party.” Grissom cleared his throat in irritation. He was really not in the mood for small talk.

“It would appear so.” Sara’s lips twisted into an amused smile and Grissom found he was returning it in spite of himself. “Mom’s worried that I find it hard to make friends.” He said with a wry smile, slowly letting his irritation fade.

“It must be nice to have her around for a while, especially for the holidays.” Sara said almost wistfully. Grissom found himself wondering for the thousandth time what her upbringing had been like. Not the big things that she’d shared with him, but the small insignificant details that created a person.

“Well she does make a mean egg nog.” He responded lightly, not wanting to spoil this fragile moment was he was wont to do with so many he shared with Sara.

“So I’ve heard. She told me about the time you drank three cups of the stuff, serenaded the party with ‘White Christmas’ and then passed out on the couch. All at the tender age of eleven.” The light pink that flushed Grissom’s cheeks was possibly the most adorable thing she had ever seen. It took every ounce of self restraint that Sara had not to kiss him full and hard.

“What else have you ladies discussed?” He still looked slightly ruffled, but he was fast regaining his composure. Sara’s mind immediately leapt to Anne’s interrogation the first time they had met. Her hundred watt smile didn’t fool either of them as she gave her weak reply.

“Oh, you know… Girl talk.”