2004-05-13 - 4:12 p.m.

More of the Grissom's hands story that was an answer to a video challange at YTDAW

Chapter Two

Warrick entered Sara’s apartment tentatively. He hadn’t gotten much from Brass on the phone, just that he should respond to an “incident” at Sara’s address. Swatting away unsavory guesses at what he might find he grabbed his kit and hit the road.

He didn’t expect to find Grissom on the floor in a pool of blood.

“Make it fast. Just get him out of here.” Gil growled from his guard duty.

Warrick’s face registered shock and relief for a millisecond as he realized that the body on the floor did not belong to his supervisor. Then he nodded and got to work. After snapping a few initial photos he raised his eyes to Gil, “She alright?” Gil’s mouth twitched a hair before he answered, “Too soon to tell. Physically, I’d say yes.”

Another nod and Warrick returned his attention to the scene.

This is what made him perfect for the task. He was concerned but able to concentrate. No mothering instincts causing him to drop the camera and head for the bathroom door, and no fear of a misstep under Grissom’s watchful eye to slow him down. Warrick would never know how grateful Grissom was for his professionalism and his friendship balanced in perfect harmony, something he himself found difficult.

“Warrick…you might want to go with the body, avoid any…confusion, at the morgue. Positive I.D. Miles Grissom.”

“Right. Anything else?”

“Tell Catherine she’s working a double.”

When the last of the intruders were gone he turned his attention to the bathroom door. There was silence. No sound of water running, no sign of crying. This frightened him more than anything.

He knocked softly. “Sara?” Now his voice did not own her name, there was an apology inherent in the syllables. “They’re gone. Are you…” he wasn’t sure where to go with that, are you okay? Certainly not. “through in there?” was the best he could do.

A few very long moments passed and then her voice quietly answered, “Come on in.”

Sara sat on the edge of the tub draped in a terry cloth robe; she ran the tips of her fingers over the back of her head. “I’ve got a bump I think.”

“They’ll look at it at the hospital. We should go as soon as you’re ready.”

Her eyes got wide, “No. I don’t…I’m fine.”

“Sara,” gentle yet firm his hand on her elbow, urging her to her feet. “What would you tell a woman at a scene?” “My home is not a crime scene.” She had meant for it to be defiant but didn’t have the resources. Instead it was a plea.

His hand found the bump and he caressed it tenderly. “That’s not good. Did you lose consciousness at any time?” “No. I wish I had.” He lowered his eyes; so many things he wanted to explain for her but the need for medical attention superceded them. He leaned closer, meaning to comfort her but his warm breath against her cheek only reminded her of the attack and again the twins became one in the same. “NO!” She pushed him away before she could stop herself.

He tried to steady himself against the shower wall but it was slick with water and he fell.

“Crap…Grissom…are you okay?” She bent to check on him and her vision went dim. His hands caught her upper arms and lowered her slowly onto him. “Sara?” “Maybe, maybe the hospital’s a good idea.” “What’s going on, what hurts?” “Everything. My head, my arms, name it. Bending over was a bad idea.” “Lights go out?” “Little bit.”

He did the how many fingers thing with three successful answers. Looking at his hands seemed to send her further into retreat. “Sara?” “Hum?” “Look at my eyes.” She obeyed, and immediately her posture relaxed. “I’ll show you something else, look here, over my right eye, a scar,” He took her hand and let her finger trace it. “Gil. Scar.” She was quietly repeating it to herself. Then as if seeing him for the first time she noticed, “My God your face! Are you alright? Those bruises…” “Are days old, please can we go to the hospital now? I’d like to get your head examined.” She made a brief face, “You first.”

The light moment was short lived, but gave them both hope.

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