Outlander Chapter 2
Title: Outlander
Author: Fromgrissom
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sara is a member of the most powerful family on the planet, but when Gil Grissom comes from the Outlands on the far reaches of the galaxy to negotiate peace with her uncle, suspicions grow and plots are created that will entwine their fates further than either would imagine.
A/N: Please be gentle with this fic! Seriously, it's the first time I've tried to do anything in this genre and any comments or advice would be very welcome. At the moment it's a stand-alone, but I'm thinking of extending it into a longer fic.
Chapter Two.
The door slid back silently to reveal a modestly sized room with two other doors leading off from it. Gil doubted he would ever get used to the cramped accommodation of the City. Still, the décor had an elegant simplicity about it and Gil could not help but be seduced by the technological luxuries that a stay in the City offered. The sharp lines of the furniture and the deep rich colours were a far cry from his humble farmhouse; no wonder they all thought him backwards. The wonder of going to a closet and finding clothes laid out for him in his size, voice-operated showers, and wrist tags were all so alien to him. Yet it was the culture of the City to which he was struggling hardest to adjust. Gil was distracted from his musings by the sound of somebody moving in an adjoining room.
“Welcome.” A slender girl in a transparent shift walked into the living area from one of the other rooms. “You do me great honour.” She bowed slightly. Gil tensed immediately. It was not the first time that he had been given access to a woman as part of some barbaric notion of hospitality, but it filled him with rage to think that such a beautiful young creature could be treated as disposable in this way.
“I have no need of you. You may go.” He told her gently, sure she would be relieved not to be forced upon by a man of his age.
“I do not understand.” She returned his gaze with big, uncertain eyes, clearly nervous. Heavens above, she was beautiful. Gil attempted to make himself clear.
“I do not need your services tonight, you are free to go.” Rather than looking relieved, the girl looked as if he had slapped her across the face.
“You think I'm a prostitute?” The look on the girl's face was enough to stay all of the possible answers that presented themselves to Gil in that split-second. At that moment the girl became obviously self-conscious about her attire, folding her arms across her chest in a gesture of modesty that would have been laughable if she hadn't looked to be a heartbeat away from bursting into tears. Gil raked an uneasy hand through his hair. He was not a man gifted with social ease, in fact he preferred to avoid those situations where politics and duplicity were necessary tools to advancement. Now though, he dearly wished he had an ounce of inter-personal skill to fix the unhappy mess he had somehow found himself in.
“What is your name?” He asked gently as led her to the lounge chairs and they sat.
“My name is Sara, and I have never been touched by a man.” The girl perched delicately on the edge of the seat, looking strangely defiant despite the rosy stain of mortification on her cheeks.
“I am Gil and I think you should explain to me exactly who you are and what you are doing in my quarters.” As weary as he was, Gil realised that a cultural blunder could have unforeseen repercussions, and he felt decidedly ill-equipped to handle the etiquette of releasing this woman from her duty with no lingering animosity.
“I am your haianha, I have been given to you as my sirahan. I can't leave. Neither of us can. At least not for a major moon week.”
“Woah slow down. I don't understand what you're saying. What do you mean we can't leave?” Gil's brow wrinkled in confusion. He didn't understand half of these City colloquialisms.
“Well tonight we have the Union of Bodies, and then at the end of one month is the Blessing of the Sacred Union.” The more Sara said, the more confused he became. Nothing she said seemed to make any sense. Suddenly one turn of phrase tugged at his memory.
“Wait, the Sacred Union... I've heard of that... That's a Council thing, right?”
“Yes only Council members and high-ranking outlanders may participate in the Sacred Union.” Sara confirmed, seeming excited that she seemed to be getting through to him.
“And I will be participating next month? Telson neglected to mention that.” Brass was going to have hell to pay for this information chasm that had gaped open right where he didn't need it.
“The Union begins officially next month.” Gil saw his opportunity to find out more information and seized it. The more he could find out from this woman before he let her go, the better. He hated surprises, especially on missions.
“So what will happen at the ceremony, this Blessing?”
“You and I will be united as a sacred partnership for the remainder of our mortal lives.”
“You mean we're getting married?” He asked, jaw dropping in incredulity.
“Marriage is for the lower-people, but yes, I suppose there are certain similarities.”
“I can't marry you, I don't even know you!” Inspite of himself, Gil started to panic. The pained look returned to Sara's big brown eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. This was beyond insanity.
“I have been hand-picked as the most compatible haianha for you.” She tried to interject.
“Damn it, woman, this is absurd!” He roared at her. Tears spilled down Sara's cheeks, reining in the worst of his ire. Common sense told him that she had had as little choice in this as him. “I'm sorry.” He whispered with the small amount of sincerity he was able to muster.
“I have never known a man be tricked into the Union before. In the City it is one of the highest honours that can be bestowed upon an Official.” The defiant look in Sara's eye had returned and Gil would have suspected a healthy dose of sarcasm in her words if he hadn't known better. A woman could be publicly disciplined for talking back to a man here in the City.
“Right then, I just need to explain to Telson that there has been a huge mistake, and then he can put an end to this insanity.”
“My uncle is the one who chose me for you, so it is unlikely he will recant. Besides, he is not a man to be informed of his own mistakes, no matter how grave they may be.” The defiance had disappeared from Sara's countenance, replaced with a gentle concern that unnerved Gil even more.
“Telson is your uncle?” He asked, his mind making several connections at once as Sara nodded her confirmation. This was a woman of incredibly high standing, and one who had the High Controller's ear at that. She was right about his temperament too. The more he thought about it, the less chance he realised he had of getting Telson to undo what he himself had created. “I need to talk to Brass.”
“We're not supposed to leave until the week is out.”
“But by then it will be too late.”
“You mean to end our union?” She asked fearfully.
“Trust me when I say that a beautiful young woman like you does not want to be stuck with an old man like me, and an outlander at that.” Gil tried to sound as reassuring as possible. “Somehow I will put an end to this madness, and then you will be free.”
“Women in the City are never free, and their value comes entirely from their Union. If you leave then I will be looked upon as little more than what you first presumed me to be.” This stopped him in his tracks.
“But I haven't touched you!” Frustration filled every word. How had his life been turned upside down in the last fifteen minutes with no warning whatsoever?
“No, but I have been given to you and you dishonour me by your rejection.” Again Sara's tone was carefully measured, not giving too much weight or feeling to the words lest they taken for impertinent. Gil could sense that she was not trying to be melodramatic; she was merely stating the truth. He cleared his throat, hating to be the cause of pain to such a beautiful woman.
“I'm sorry, the last thing I wish is to bring you dishonour, but if there is a way out of this then I must take it.” She only nodded sadly in response.
“The pads still work. You can contact your friend that way.” Sara picked one up from the lounge table and extended it to him. Gil took the proffered piece and stalked into what appeared to be the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He sat on the bed and quickly ran his finger across the screen, stabbing at the appropriate information until a connection was made and then he transferred the image to the larger screen on the wall.
“Gil, it's about time you checked in. Telson give you a grilling, did he?” Brass sounded distant and his image kept pixelating and then returning to normal.
“This isn't about Telson.”
“What's wrong, Gil? You've got that look in your eye.; the one that makes three galaxies between us seem too close.”
“They've arranged a marriage for me.”
“Haha, you old dog, it's about time you settled down.” Brass was mollified a little by Gil's face. “What, is she not a looker?”
“She's...” Beautiful, sensitive, wise. Words escaped him. He had known from first glance that she was too good for him, even when he had thought she was a prostitute. “...young.”
“How young?” Brass's jaw clenched in sudden anger. Gil knew he had seen things that would give the average enforcer nightmares. There was a reason Brass had such a fierce reputation amongst criminals.
“Not like that. She must be legal, but only by a couple of years.” Gil was quick to put his friend's mind at rest. On screen the man's face relaxed into a grin.
“Well then, enjoy it. Live a little.” The grin had turned into an irritating smirk and Gil started to despair of any sort of aid.
“I'm not about to force myself upon an unwilling woman, Jim.”
“One look into those baby blues and I'm sure there'll be no forcing at all.” Gil, could feel Brass warming to the subject and desperately tried to change tack.
“She's Telson's niece.” This new information had the desired effect. The mirth vanished from Brass's face instantly.
“You need to be careful, Gil. Don't tell her anything. Don't trust her. She'll be Telson's girl through and through. We can't afford to have her spill our secrets.”
“I don't intend to tell her anything, but how long until you can get me out of this mess?”
“Get you out? Gil, fate has done what our plans could not. We can use this girl to get information on Telson. You're weeks ahead of schedule.”
“So you suggest I marry the girl for the sake of my planet?”
“If you can't or won't, then you'd better think of a good reason for stalling the wedding until we can get the information that we need. I need to go now, Gil, update me when you can.” The screen winked out and Gil let out a tremulous sigh as he faced the blackness.
Enforcer Nato had one eye on the time as he made his final rounds, hoping he would be able to finish early. He wasn't normally one to bother with the comings and goings of the upper echelons of society, but no sane man would refuse a week of merry-making and celebration laid on at their expense. Nato glowered at an unlucky junior coming the other way, hoping to avoid being delayed. The tactic seemed to work and the boy shied away; Nato's robust form reinforcing the grimace. Ignoring the groans and wails of the Rehabs, Nato checked them off one by one on his pad. Two had been shipped off during the day, no longer subject to the abject misery of the holding cells, no longer subject to any emotion to be precise, but perhaps it was better that way. From the daily reports, he estimated that five more would be gone by the end of the holiday.
Suddenly a commotion from the other end of the corridor caught Nato's attention. He nearly growled in annoyance at the familiar sounds of a newly admitted Rehab that called him back to his station. So much for getting away early. Junior Anders had received the newly sentenced prisoner and stood waiting for orders.
“Name?” Nato stared in disgust at the woman in front of him, if indeed she could be called that. He assumed that she was around fifty, although she was in such a state it was hard to tell. Her bones protruded sharply wherever they stuck out from the rags she wore, her brown hair was matted and wild, and she stank to high heaven. Her large brown eyes seemed almost vacant as they stared past him. Maybe there would be six to move on this week.
“She doesn't speak.” Anders was struggling not to gag at the stench coming from the Rehab. Nato took pity on him, and quickly filled out the cursory details onto his pad. Neither of them had any desire to drag this admittance out.
“Take her to Cell 5453.” He programmed Anders' wrist tag and watched as he tried to herd her away without breathing in through his nose. Chuckling to himself, Nato logged his final figures for the day, grateful to be out of the graveyard of humanity that was Rehabilitation Holding C-184 for a few precious days.
The woman blinked at the sudden harsh artificial lighting of Cell 5453 and felt her exhausted body slump down the wall. Convulsions shook her body, and she pulled her bony knees towards her. A movement next to her drew her attention, and she tried to force her eyes to focus. A grubby, hairy man, who had little more meat on him than she did, gave a loud hawking cough into his filthy sleeve, as he slid to the floor next to her. The woman recoiled from him, but when he offered her a packet of dry supplement her ravenous hunger got the better of her.
“I'm Sarin.” The man supplied. The woman supposed she should return his offer of friendship. He had given her food after all. Besides, she figured she could do with someone with inside knowledge of this new Holding.
“I'm Laura.” Her smile looked more like a wince of pain.
Author: Fromgrissom
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sara is a member of the most powerful family on the planet, but when Gil Grissom comes from the Outlands on the far reaches of the galaxy to negotiate peace with her uncle, suspicions grow and plots are created that will entwine their fates further than either would imagine.
A/N: Please be gentle with this fic! Seriously, it's the first time I've tried to do anything in this genre and any comments or advice would be very welcome. At the moment it's a stand-alone, but I'm thinking of extending it into a longer fic.
Chapter Two.
The door slid back silently to reveal a modestly sized room with two other doors leading off from it. Gil doubted he would ever get used to the cramped accommodation of the City. Still, the décor had an elegant simplicity about it and Gil could not help but be seduced by the technological luxuries that a stay in the City offered. The sharp lines of the furniture and the deep rich colours were a far cry from his humble farmhouse; no wonder they all thought him backwards. The wonder of going to a closet and finding clothes laid out for him in his size, voice-operated showers, and wrist tags were all so alien to him. Yet it was the culture of the City to which he was struggling hardest to adjust. Gil was distracted from his musings by the sound of somebody moving in an adjoining room.
“Welcome.” A slender girl in a transparent shift walked into the living area from one of the other rooms. “You do me great honour.” She bowed slightly. Gil tensed immediately. It was not the first time that he had been given access to a woman as part of some barbaric notion of hospitality, but it filled him with rage to think that such a beautiful young creature could be treated as disposable in this way.
“I have no need of you. You may go.” He told her gently, sure she would be relieved not to be forced upon by a man of his age.
“I do not understand.” She returned his gaze with big, uncertain eyes, clearly nervous. Heavens above, she was beautiful. Gil attempted to make himself clear.
“I do not need your services tonight, you are free to go.” Rather than looking relieved, the girl looked as if he had slapped her across the face.
“You think I'm a prostitute?” The look on the girl's face was enough to stay all of the possible answers that presented themselves to Gil in that split-second. At that moment the girl became obviously self-conscious about her attire, folding her arms across her chest in a gesture of modesty that would have been laughable if she hadn't looked to be a heartbeat away from bursting into tears. Gil raked an uneasy hand through his hair. He was not a man gifted with social ease, in fact he preferred to avoid those situations where politics and duplicity were necessary tools to advancement. Now though, he dearly wished he had an ounce of inter-personal skill to fix the unhappy mess he had somehow found himself in.
“What is your name?” He asked gently as led her to the lounge chairs and they sat.
“My name is Sara, and I have never been touched by a man.” The girl perched delicately on the edge of the seat, looking strangely defiant despite the rosy stain of mortification on her cheeks.
“I am Gil and I think you should explain to me exactly who you are and what you are doing in my quarters.” As weary as he was, Gil realised that a cultural blunder could have unforeseen repercussions, and he felt decidedly ill-equipped to handle the etiquette of releasing this woman from her duty with no lingering animosity.
“I am your haianha, I have been given to you as my sirahan. I can't leave. Neither of us can. At least not for a major moon week.”
“Woah slow down. I don't understand what you're saying. What do you mean we can't leave?” Gil's brow wrinkled in confusion. He didn't understand half of these City colloquialisms.
“Well tonight we have the Union of Bodies, and then at the end of one month is the Blessing of the Sacred Union.” The more Sara said, the more confused he became. Nothing she said seemed to make any sense. Suddenly one turn of phrase tugged at his memory.
“Wait, the Sacred Union... I've heard of that... That's a Council thing, right?”
“Yes only Council members and high-ranking outlanders may participate in the Sacred Union.” Sara confirmed, seeming excited that she seemed to be getting through to him.
“And I will be participating next month? Telson neglected to mention that.” Brass was going to have hell to pay for this information chasm that had gaped open right where he didn't need it.
“The Union begins officially next month.” Gil saw his opportunity to find out more information and seized it. The more he could find out from this woman before he let her go, the better. He hated surprises, especially on missions.
“So what will happen at the ceremony, this Blessing?”
“You and I will be united as a sacred partnership for the remainder of our mortal lives.”
“You mean we're getting married?” He asked, jaw dropping in incredulity.
“Marriage is for the lower-people, but yes, I suppose there are certain similarities.”
“I can't marry you, I don't even know you!” Inspite of himself, Gil started to panic. The pained look returned to Sara's big brown eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. This was beyond insanity.
“I have been hand-picked as the most compatible haianha for you.” She tried to interject.
“Damn it, woman, this is absurd!” He roared at her. Tears spilled down Sara's cheeks, reining in the worst of his ire. Common sense told him that she had had as little choice in this as him. “I'm sorry.” He whispered with the small amount of sincerity he was able to muster.
“I have never known a man be tricked into the Union before. In the City it is one of the highest honours that can be bestowed upon an Official.” The defiant look in Sara's eye had returned and Gil would have suspected a healthy dose of sarcasm in her words if he hadn't known better. A woman could be publicly disciplined for talking back to a man here in the City.
“Right then, I just need to explain to Telson that there has been a huge mistake, and then he can put an end to this insanity.”
“My uncle is the one who chose me for you, so it is unlikely he will recant. Besides, he is not a man to be informed of his own mistakes, no matter how grave they may be.” The defiance had disappeared from Sara's countenance, replaced with a gentle concern that unnerved Gil even more.
“Telson is your uncle?” He asked, his mind making several connections at once as Sara nodded her confirmation. This was a woman of incredibly high standing, and one who had the High Controller's ear at that. She was right about his temperament too. The more he thought about it, the less chance he realised he had of getting Telson to undo what he himself had created. “I need to talk to Brass.”
“We're not supposed to leave until the week is out.”
“But by then it will be too late.”
“You mean to end our union?” She asked fearfully.
“Trust me when I say that a beautiful young woman like you does not want to be stuck with an old man like me, and an outlander at that.” Gil tried to sound as reassuring as possible. “Somehow I will put an end to this madness, and then you will be free.”
“Women in the City are never free, and their value comes entirely from their Union. If you leave then I will be looked upon as little more than what you first presumed me to be.” This stopped him in his tracks.
“But I haven't touched you!” Frustration filled every word. How had his life been turned upside down in the last fifteen minutes with no warning whatsoever?
“No, but I have been given to you and you dishonour me by your rejection.” Again Sara's tone was carefully measured, not giving too much weight or feeling to the words lest they taken for impertinent. Gil could sense that she was not trying to be melodramatic; she was merely stating the truth. He cleared his throat, hating to be the cause of pain to such a beautiful woman.
“I'm sorry, the last thing I wish is to bring you dishonour, but if there is a way out of this then I must take it.” She only nodded sadly in response.
“The pads still work. You can contact your friend that way.” Sara picked one up from the lounge table and extended it to him. Gil took the proffered piece and stalked into what appeared to be the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He sat on the bed and quickly ran his finger across the screen, stabbing at the appropriate information until a connection was made and then he transferred the image to the larger screen on the wall.
“Gil, it's about time you checked in. Telson give you a grilling, did he?” Brass sounded distant and his image kept pixelating and then returning to normal.
“This isn't about Telson.”
“What's wrong, Gil? You've got that look in your eye.; the one that makes three galaxies between us seem too close.”
“They've arranged a marriage for me.”
“Haha, you old dog, it's about time you settled down.” Brass was mollified a little by Gil's face. “What, is she not a looker?”
“She's...” Beautiful, sensitive, wise. Words escaped him. He had known from first glance that she was too good for him, even when he had thought she was a prostitute. “...young.”
“How young?” Brass's jaw clenched in sudden anger. Gil knew he had seen things that would give the average enforcer nightmares. There was a reason Brass had such a fierce reputation amongst criminals.
“Not like that. She must be legal, but only by a couple of years.” Gil was quick to put his friend's mind at rest. On screen the man's face relaxed into a grin.
“Well then, enjoy it. Live a little.” The grin had turned into an irritating smirk and Gil started to despair of any sort of aid.
“I'm not about to force myself upon an unwilling woman, Jim.”
“One look into those baby blues and I'm sure there'll be no forcing at all.” Gil, could feel Brass warming to the subject and desperately tried to change tack.
“She's Telson's niece.” This new information had the desired effect. The mirth vanished from Brass's face instantly.
“You need to be careful, Gil. Don't tell her anything. Don't trust her. She'll be Telson's girl through and through. We can't afford to have her spill our secrets.”
“I don't intend to tell her anything, but how long until you can get me out of this mess?”
“Get you out? Gil, fate has done what our plans could not. We can use this girl to get information on Telson. You're weeks ahead of schedule.”
“So you suggest I marry the girl for the sake of my planet?”
“If you can't or won't, then you'd better think of a good reason for stalling the wedding until we can get the information that we need. I need to go now, Gil, update me when you can.” The screen winked out and Gil let out a tremulous sigh as he faced the blackness.
Enforcer Nato had one eye on the time as he made his final rounds, hoping he would be able to finish early. He wasn't normally one to bother with the comings and goings of the upper echelons of society, but no sane man would refuse a week of merry-making and celebration laid on at their expense. Nato glowered at an unlucky junior coming the other way, hoping to avoid being delayed. The tactic seemed to work and the boy shied away; Nato's robust form reinforcing the grimace. Ignoring the groans and wails of the Rehabs, Nato checked them off one by one on his pad. Two had been shipped off during the day, no longer subject to the abject misery of the holding cells, no longer subject to any emotion to be precise, but perhaps it was better that way. From the daily reports, he estimated that five more would be gone by the end of the holiday.
Suddenly a commotion from the other end of the corridor caught Nato's attention. He nearly growled in annoyance at the familiar sounds of a newly admitted Rehab that called him back to his station. So much for getting away early. Junior Anders had received the newly sentenced prisoner and stood waiting for orders.
“Name?” Nato stared in disgust at the woman in front of him, if indeed she could be called that. He assumed that she was around fifty, although she was in such a state it was hard to tell. Her bones protruded sharply wherever they stuck out from the rags she wore, her brown hair was matted and wild, and she stank to high heaven. Her large brown eyes seemed almost vacant as they stared past him. Maybe there would be six to move on this week.
“She doesn't speak.” Anders was struggling not to gag at the stench coming from the Rehab. Nato took pity on him, and quickly filled out the cursory details onto his pad. Neither of them had any desire to drag this admittance out.
“Take her to Cell 5453.” He programmed Anders' wrist tag and watched as he tried to herd her away without breathing in through his nose. Chuckling to himself, Nato logged his final figures for the day, grateful to be out of the graveyard of humanity that was Rehabilitation Holding C-184 for a few precious days.
The woman blinked at the sudden harsh artificial lighting of Cell 5453 and felt her exhausted body slump down the wall. Convulsions shook her body, and she pulled her bony knees towards her. A movement next to her drew her attention, and she tried to force her eyes to focus. A grubby, hairy man, who had little more meat on him than she did, gave a loud hawking cough into his filthy sleeve, as he slid to the floor next to her. The woman recoiled from him, but when he offered her a packet of dry supplement her ravenous hunger got the better of her.
“I'm Sarin.” The man supplied. The woman supposed she should return his offer of friendship. He had given her food after all. Besides, she figured she could do with someone with inside knowledge of this new Holding.
“I'm Laura.” Her smile looked more like a wince of pain.