Dr. Grissom never remembered to call her and she didn’t call anymore. On Christmas Eve, though, he received a package with no sender.
He unwrapped it with curiosity and inside, protected by balled-up papers, he found a framed print depicting three specimens of Cymindis: miliaris, homagrica and axillaris, each bigger colored image of a specimen had a smaller copy by its side drawn in black and white.
Dr. Grissom stared at it, surprised by that unexpected arrival, but appreciating its style – of which he knew the author – and the precision of its details. He knew where to hang it: there was some free space on a wall of his studio at home that seemed to have waited for that. He had been so entranced by the print, that he noticed the card accompanying it only some moments later. He pulled it out of a little envelope and a barely readable calligraphy showed up before his eyes: I hope it’s not a… He could not read the following word, but below it, he could easily read: Merry Christmas. Sara Sidle.
He suddenly remembered that he had never called her back and decided to not waste any more time.
“Hello?”
The voice of Miss Sidle came out of a hubbub and sounded insecure, like when you don’t know who’s talking on the other side of the line. For a moment, the Las Vegas CSI agent didn’t know how to introduce himself.
“Miss Sidle, I’m Gil Grissom,” he finally said, using a formal tone.
The girl’s voice greeted him, suddenly jovial. “Dr. Grissom!”
“I received the print you’ve sent me.”
“Oh, good. Is the glass intact?” the girl cared to know.
“Yes. Everything is ok.”
“Great, I was afraid it could break. I hope the frame is fine for you…I don’t know your taste, so I took the liberty to choose one myself.”
Dr. Grissom glanced at the frame which he did not even notice.
“Everything is fine. There is just one problem,” he then said. The girl was surprised and listened in silence. “I can’t understand what’s written on the card,” he explained, without awkwardness, but with a subtle amusement instead.
“Everything or something in particular?”
“Just a word, actually. I hope it’s not a...?”
The girl took a moment to remember.
“Oh, yeah,” she said finally. “Double. I hope it’s not a double.”
The entomologist was dumbfounded.
“Double?! It’s not possible that double is written here…” He drew the card closer to his eyes, but he still could not understand how the letters were organized. “Calligraphy is not your strong point, Sara,” he instinctively said, using a personal tone that conditioned the rest of the call.
The girl laughed. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”
“However, it’s not a double. I own other Jakob Sturm’s prints, but not this one.”
The girl told him that she had worked on the homicide of the owner of an antique stand at the San Francisco market and explained that she found the print among the articles of the stand.
“The belongings of the deceased should be gathered in a police storehouse or left to relatives,” Dr. Grissom pointed out, stopping Miss Sidle’s account with a rigid accent.
“I didn’t steal it,” she protested. “I paid for it, you know? What do you take me for?” Dr. Grissom didn’t answer. “When I saw it, I thought that you might like it,” Miss Sidle added with an adulatory tone.
“Actually, I do like it,” Dr. Grissom said, appreciating her slightly buttering him up.
Something, though, was still not clear to him, and the girl seemed to read his mind.
“At least, I hope this will work as an amends for that phone call…” she said with a bit of embarrassment.
Dr. Grissom stood thoughtful for a moment.
“I should have called you back, so I should be the one to apologize. I hope it was nothing very important…”
“No, nothing important,” she reassured him.
“I remember you having a pretty agitated voice…”
“It was nothing significant,” the girl repeated, this time with an elusive tone. “At least, nothing so critical to wake you up,” she added, without false modesty.
Dr. Grissom didn’t delve into the question further but felt that it had to be something intimately urgent to make her call him.
“Strangely, I fell asleep again soon after, so it was not a big deal,” he recalled with glee.
“This is a relief.”
There was a moment of stalemate, then. It was the girl who spoke again.
“So…tomorrow the big feast?”
“Bah! I don’t know…with much probability something will happen that would bring me to work,” Dr. Grissom answered as if he didn’t dislike that possibility.
“A classic…”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it, one way or another.”
“What about you?” he asked with honest interest.
The girl was delighted by his curiosity and laughed.
“Ah! I respect traditions.”
“Family lunch?” the man asked, feeling some kind of relief.
“Something like that, yeah. But most likely, it will happen like you—I will have to come to work…”
Dr. Grissom had the impression that the girl too would have preferred working rather than spending the day with her family.
“A classic,” he commented with an unstressed voice.
This time was a thoughtful silence that interrupted their conversation.
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Grissom,” the girl greeted him all of a sudden.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Sidle.”
→ from the fic Coffee is a man’s drink
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Listen we don't talk enough about how attractive much of a snack Grissom was in season one! That man would make me move states on the hope of something, anything with him... He would've had me at "Hi, I'm Gil Grissom." He would've been a killer at his seminar. I now sympathize with Sara even more. I would've been ready to continue hoping for five solid years... Also: pre-show fanfics I've read often depict a Grissom that is more akin to season five Grissom than season one Grissom--closed off. (There's some acknowledgment of course of how different he was when Sara first walks in.) This is a disservice. Man was a verily different guy!
I mean:
He smiles so much more! And he's so cute doing it! He's just chill and relaxed.
So much more involved with his people. Just his looking out for Warrick! Protective Grissom? Ready to go to bat for them! Warrick's gambling problem is really played out in ways you don't see the others' later issues playing out on screen. What we see later is him keeping them together, but where is that talk? That "I'm proud of you" that he give Rick?
Friends and Lovers (which I'm watching at the moment) as example: admits to guys who hit their wives being one of three things he got a real problem with (hello, Sara? Did you hear this?); almost beats up a drug dealer who's a potential suspect; and he's very chill at the rave and genuinely looks twice at a drugged up rave girl. Yet, the coroner calls him a tin man with a heart? Man was all heart!
*edited for grammatical errors
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