Of Life and Living: Chapter 6
Title: Of Life and Living : Chapter 6
Author: Laurelgardner
Rating: Goes to NC-17
Pairings: Grissom/Greg, Sara/Nick, Warrick/OFC, Catherine/OMC
Summary: Gil Grissom and Greg Sanders have resigned themselves to certain realities. All of that is about to change.
Author's Note: This story takes place five years after the events of season 5. A lot has changed in this time; Greg is a level 3 CSI and happily out of the closet, Ecklie is gone (ding, dong, the witch is dead!), Sofia is assistant director of the lab, Catherine is happily remarried and head of the Reno crime lab (but don't worry, she still plays a part in this tale!), Warrick has returned to night shift, and Nick and Sara are not only married but are heads of day and swing shifts, respectively.
Warnings: Happy story with a few dark themes. References to murder and child abuse, but hey, this is CSI. Nobody we care about gets raped, killed or pregnant, so no worries there. Mostly, this is a character study/romance with lots dialogue and eventually, sex.
Disclaimer: I am not worthy. *bows before the altar of CSI*
I'm sorry that this chapter is short and contains no Greg. The next installment will be long, Gregful, and should arrive shortly!
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“You want me to go in there?”
Fisted hands on the hips of her blue jumpsuit, Carol glared accusingly at Gil. Gil smiled back at her, amused. He was feeling some of his old bratty impulses returning to him as he peered down the slimy darkness of the drainage pipe.
“Yup,” he replied pitilessly. “Rank. I had to do the dirty work when I was a rookie. Now it’s your turn.”
Carol gave the tube the long hard look, frowning uncomfortably. “It’s not the dirtiness, it’s...oh, never mind. What am I looking for, exactly?”
Gil fetched tweezers and a tiny plastic evidence bag from his kit and handed them to her.
“Fibers,” he said. “Do you remember the fleece jacket our suspect was wearing when we brought him in for questioning?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see David’s clothes after he retrieved the body from this pipe?”
“No.”
“They had minute tears all over them. You see,” he said, shining his flashlight down the tube. “This pipe is old and poorly maintained. The metal lining is warped and the nails are exposed in several places. It was also a cold night when our victim was dumped here...”
“...so chances are good that he was wearing that same fleece when he was in there,” finished Carol.
“Fleece leaves good fibers,” said Grissom. “But they’d be easy to miss on our first look. It would be grounds to get us his DNA.”
“Wham,” said Carol. She sighed deeply. “Well, I hope you’re right, because I hate small spaces.”
She steeled herself for a moment, visibly, then crawled gamely into the drainage pipe.
“It’s really filthy in here,” she called back.
“Good,” Gil replied. “Think about that. And the evidence.” He knew that distraction could be a good way to deal with an uncomfortable situation.
He listened to the echoing sounds as Carol pulled herself along on her back. After a few minutes, she shrieked victoriously.
“Was I right?” he shouted to her.
“You were,” she answered. “We got him!”
“Not yet, but we will,” Gil replied. “Come on back, that’s all we need.”
Now he heard the sounds of her shuffling back toward him, a little more urgent now. But as he listened, the scuffling sounds suddenly became frantic, and it stopped moving closer to him. It sounded like she was flailing.
“Carol?” He stuck his head in the opening of the pipe. He couldn’t see her, but after a moment, he heard the sound of her breathing, fast and agitated; she was hyperventilating.
“Are you all right?” he called.
It was a moment for he heard her voice, very small and frightened.
“I’m stuck. Gil, I’m stuck!”
He shone his flashlight and saw her face, smudged and panic-stricken.
“Hold on!” he cried. “I’m coming.”
The fear he’d heard in her voice was enough to quicken his own pulse, but he kept his cool as he crawled in after her. “It’s all right, Carol, just close your eyes and breathe deeply, okay?”
“Okay.”
The pipe was actually not that small. In fact, it was just wide enough to him to maneuver around her once he’d reached her, and he discovered that the ankle of her pant leg had gotten wrapped around an exposed nail head. Cursing himself for failing to listen to her hints about claustrophobia, he untangled the cloth.
“It’s all right,” he said. “It was just a nail.”
She nodded, still gasping and sobbing a little. He took her hands and guided her carefully out of the tunnel, offering encouraging words as they went. He emerged first, stood outside the mouth of the pipe and pulled her into a sitting position on the edge.
“Panic attack,” he guessed.
Carol bent over and put her head between her knees. Still breathing hard, she nodded.
* * * *
He wanted to call for medical assistance, but Carol insisted that it wasn’t necessary; she’d been down this road before, she said, and knew what to expect. He let himself be persuaded, but kept a wary eye on her as they drove back to the lab. She was still a little shaky, but seemed stable. By the time they’d returned, cleaned up, and changed out of their dirty clothes, she was back to her normal self.
“I feel like an idiot,” she said, peering up at him from her seat on the locker room bench.
Grissom stood with his back to the lockers and shook his head. “No. But you should tell me about things like that,” he said. “I never would have made you go in there if I’d known this would happen to you. I’m sorry.”
Carol made a frustrated gesture with her hand. “I never thought it would. I mean, small spaces bother me, but I haven’t had an attack in years.” She laughed. “I just...wasn’t expecting to get stuck. It freaked me out.”
Grissom nodded slowly. “All right. But I want you to take the rest of the shift off.”
Carol opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, the locker room door swept open and in burst Warrick.
“Here you are,” he said to Carol, his voice both urgent and gentle. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “What happened to you? I heard something about uh...a panic attack?”
“Yeah,” said Carol, smiling slightly. “It happens to me sometimes. There’s really no reason for it.”
“Are you okay? What happened?” The concern in Warrick’s voice had not been eased even by Carol’s easy tone.
“I was viciously attacked by an exposed nail head in a drain pipe,” Carol joked. She glanced at Gil. “But it was okay. I had a Grissom-in-shining-armor there to rescue me.”
Gil blinked and straightened his stance self-consciously. Warrick smiled at the joke and at Gil, then returned his attention to Carol.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” she said to him. “I’m fine. Thanks for coming.”
“Hey, no problem,” he said, hugging her tightly.
“Mmm,” she murmured into his shoulder. “I’m so glad I was smart enough to fall in love with someone at work.”
They separated and Warrick stood up, still holding her hands. “I should get back to work,” he said, “but only if you’re sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, Warrick,” Carol insisted. “Except...my boss thinks I’m not well enough to finish my shift.”
Warrick quirked an eyebrow at Grissom. “Does he.”
“You’re his friend,” Carol pleaded. “Talk to him. We just found the case-breaker, too.”
They both looked at Gil expectantly, and finally he rolled his eyes. “All right,” he said, “but you have to take it easy, and if you have any problems, you go home, all right.”
Carol promised that she would, and Warrick seemed satisfied. He kissed Carol’s cheek and left the locker room. Carol, however, kept staring thoughtfully at Gil after he’d left.
“What?” Gil asked.
“It surprised you when I said Warrick was your friend, didn’t it?”
“What makes you say that?” countered Gil.
“Your eyebrows went up,” Carol said simply. She stood up and closed her locker. She leaned in towards him. “You’re not that hard to read,” she whispered. She stood back and smiled at his look of confusion, then reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s catch us a scumball.”
She turned and lead the way out of the room, a spring in her step as she walked. He stared after her a moment, bemused. It was always strange to be scrutinized, especially when he wasn’t expecting it. He thought about what she’d said and felt it was a little off the mark. Still, she’d given him pause, and that was worth noting.
He shook his head, then followed her.
* * * * *
(recorded in the office of Dr. Ellen Greene)
GREENE: You want to talk about it now.
GRISSOM: Yes.
GREENE: What changed your mind?
GRISSOM: Watching...a friend of mine with the woman he’s dating.
GREENE: And what did you see?
GRISSOM: They fit.
GREENE: They’re good together?
GRISSOM: Yeah. And I felt...sad, I suppose.
GREENE: Does that surprise you?
GRISSOM: It’s different from what I usually feel.
GREENE: And what’s that?
GRISSOM: I don’t know...bitter.
GREENE: Aha!
GRISSOM: Mmm.
GREENE: That’s very telling, Gil. when do you get bitter?
GRISSOM: When I see people in relationships that are damaging.
GREENE: But when you see friends of yours in a relationship that does work, you feel sad. What do you suppose that is? Third-wheel syndrome?
GRISSOM: Mmm-hmm.
GREENE: Does that mean you’d like to be in a relationship?
(pause)
GRISSOM: I’d like to. I’d like to try it once, because I never have! I’ve never been in love, I’ve never been...committed...I’ve never had anything you could really even call a relationship. For the first time in my life, I’m not terrified by the idea, but now...I think it’s too late.
(pause)
GREENE: Wow, Gil. I think the floodgates are officially open.