(no subject)
Title: Connections: Hodges
Author: Summer Reign
Rating: T
Spoilers: Everything.
Summary: Conclusion of the series. It's Hodges' responsibility to bring it on home. Hang on for a bumpy ride.
XXXXX
Once again, Gil Grissom pulled out his fountain pen and began to write:
My Dearest,
It's a shame that the only time I put pen to paper is when we are physically separated. I guess I'm not a 'love letter in the lunchbox' type of guy. It takes an ocean between us to get me to acknowledge my gratitude for what I have, and how very much I miss you.
But, as I once said, though far apart…thou art with me still...
Although, those actually were not my words, were they? I am excellent at finding the right quote to suit the occasion, though. And perhaps reveal more about what is in my heart than my own words could ever convey.
I never mailed that first letter, although I know you read it. I wanted you to. The reason I didn't send it, at the time, was…complicated. I was halfway through addressing the envelope when I was filled with the certainty that, when we were together again, I would finally tell you the things my note could only hint at. In my own words, not Shakespeare's.
Of course, I didn't. I didn't even have the courage to hand you the letter. Just left it in plain sight until you noticed it.
I probably will never send this one to you, either. But, I know you'll read it.
I'll make sure of it.
This time, no Shakespearean sonnet will do. Perhaps the words will be clumsy, perhaps there will be very few words involved. Nothing, at this moment, feels appropriate to fully express the depth of emotion you bring out in me. Perhaps it is demonstrated, during our most intimate times together. Perhaps not. Expressions of the human heart are still somewhat of a mystery to me. But, I do know this: loving you has uncovered a whole new dimension to the person I thought I was; the person I thought was fully formed and unchangeable. And, today, I believe a better man exists within me than the one you met over a decade ago.
For this, and so much more, I thank you. And will continue to do so...every single day of our lives.
XXXXXX
May, 2008
There was a box of roses, laying open in her lap, and a letter in her "good" hand.
Sara had a good hand now. Well, to be more specific, she had a good arm. But her hand was attached…so…
Grissom's mind was wandering again. Concentrating on inconsequentials was easier than examining the Big Picture. Even though the most important part of that picture was still there-in focus-and very much warm and alive, even after her encounter with a serial killer.
She was in a hospital bed recovering from surgery to repair her broken arm. One more day, and he'd be able to take her home. She had put a time limit on her stay. If she wasn't released within 24 hours, as her doctor had promised, she vowed to raise hell and go home anyway.
That was a good sign.
But, what would happen then?
He willed his mind to travel elsewhere, but one look at Sara's face and he was back, fully, in the here and now.
She had tears in her eyes. Very close to spilling over, if history was any indication.
He'd kill Hodges. Whatever smarmy, self-serving, officious words he chose to make Sara feel…
"I'm going to kill Hodges," he repeated-this time, out loud.
Sara looked up from reading. "Why?"
"He's making you cry."
"They are good tears."
"Good?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah," she said, putting the letter down on top of the box and lovingly running a finger over one of the petals. They were an unusual shade of coral. But, he didn't care about the flowers…
He had to ask. "May I read it?"
She looked as if she was about to turn him down and then changed her mind.
"Sure. Why not?"
Grissom took the letter, handwritten on thick, expensive stationary. One point: Hodges.
Dear Sara,
I wrote this in advance, knowing those little cards in the flowers shop just weren't big enough for me to say what I needed to say.
They tell me that visiting you, at this point, would probably not be a good idea. And they are right. You need your rest. But, I just wanted to let you know that I'm happy you are alive and on the road to recovery.
We once, in a teasing exchange, agreed that we were not really friends. But, that was then, perhaps? In any case, friends or not, you are someone I admire. Someone I'm sometimes jealous of. And someone I'm extremely proud to know. Hence, the nearly-orange roses (I looked it up in the Language of Flowers: orange signifies Pride)
You walked through hell and arrived on the other side. No one else I know would have come half as far. It showed strength, and fortitude, and a determination I've never seen in any one else. And…well, it might be trite…but, I hope you will soon be blooming brighter than the blooms on these roses.
Take care,
Your friend (of sorts…and it does take all kinds),
David Hodges.
Well, shit. Hodges, pain in the ass though he was, had the ability to sometimes surprise him more than anyone else in the lab.
He had joined in with the rest of their team and worked tirelessly when he found out Sara had been abducted. And was the first one to begin putting all the puzzle pieces together. He not only found out where Sara was located, he turned around-post-finding her (and, more importantly, post-finding out about them) and now sent her a note that made her cry, in a good way.
It did, indeed, take all kinds.
And perhaps old Dave's "kind" was a lot different than he thought it was.
XXXXX
Paris, current time
"Hank, sit."
He really needed to get this dog re-trained. In an effort to give him a more normal life, after all the changes they had all been through, they had spoiled him rotten. And now, he wouldn't even sit to get a reward.
"Hank, sit," he repeated more firmly. "Or you won't get a cookie."
He almost laughed at his own words. Good thing he didn't have children. Well, not yet. Probably not ever. Although they never really discussed it.
God, he missed Sara. His lecture series was coming to an end and he was anxious to see her again. Even though she had been there, for a few days, just a couple of weeks ago.
He loved their reunions. Everything so fresh and new. Almost like when they first met. There was this…compulsion…to suck up every ounce of happiness they were afforded during these times because of the uncertainty of her schedule at the lab.
Amazing. He left a job he couldn't leave until he nearly had a nervous breakdown over the decision, and she went back. To find herself. To prove things to herself. And to him.
The fact of the matter was, Hodges had been wrong. And so had he. Sara had not really been ready to leave at all. She had been forced. Natalie…had lasting effects on her life. Yes, she had survived but her confidence in herself and the job she had devoted years to was gone. And what he hated more than anything else was the fact that she considered all her work as a CSI to be tainted by some personal "failure," because she no longer could view any case from the outside. She was now a victim. Not one who had lived through a traumatic event many years before but a "fresh" victim. And everything was raw and personal now.
But she wasn't ready to give up solving puzzles. Not when the biggest one: how the mighty Sidle had fallen, was still out there, unsolved.
She had a score to settle. With Natalie. With herself. And he felt…she was almost ready to consider it a complete success and move on.
In the meantime, he did his thing and prayed a lot. Keeping her safe was always the first thing he asked for.
Keep her safe. Bring her back to us.
The only things, really, he asked for.
"Hank," he called and the dog lumbered over to him. And sat. "Good boy." Progress. He gave the dog the cookie that was nearly crumbling in his hand.
And then he walked over the computer. For his own treat. With any luck, there'd be another email in there from Sara.
Hey, Bug Boy!
You know, I totally hate these nicknames but I'm told that's what you do when you get hitched. You show your love by renaming your spouse something extremely silly like Cookie, or Snookums or Tushy-face. I settled for Bug Boy.
Feel loved?
You should. I've been thinking about you all day. It's embarrassing, really. People catch me with these stupid grins on my face and they know it's not my usual modus operandi. And I'm pretty sure they know how to put 2 and 2 together by now (although…given their past record with Grissom-Sidle math…maybe they just think I had a personality transplant… and am not thinking dirty thoughts about my husband).
But, aside from all that…
I hope you're not feeding Hank too many cookies. It took me days to get him back in shape the last time…and I'd rather spend my time in more productive ways. Like making you very, very happy, while replenishing my daydream material.
Nothing new here. Well, not really. Murder, mayhem, the usual. I think, maybe, I can get away next month. Ecklie has a candidate they are seriously considering as a full time member of the night shift. And, if that happens, it will only be a matter of time before I can fade out of this job. Maybe our grant will be closer to being funded?
We'll see.
Anyway, I'm missing you terribly now. We are in and out at all hours of the night AND day for this case, so I won't call today but I'll try and call tomorrow.
Be good.
Love, Mrs. Bug Boy (okay, I just made myself slightly nauseous!)
P.S. Just how do you feel about golf?
Golf?
Why would she be asking about golf? Strange.
Speaking of…
There was another email in his in box. He sighed when he saw who it was from and clicked on the link.
To: SpouseofSidle
From:
Re: You must call me!
I hope you are reading this, completely confused. Because that would mean my theory is wrong. And never have I hoped to be this wrong in my entire existence.
You see…I don't know how to say this. Because, well, if I am wrong, there is a strong chance that I will end up looking foolish but, if I'm not…well, it won't matter. And it's imperative that I find out that I'm wrong. Even if you will, perhaps, think less of me.
We are friends, after all. So, I know you'll trust this comes out of my deep, abiding regard and respect for our relationship.
I need you to call me so I can hear your voice. Because an email could be…fabricated, but your voice…well, I'd know it anywhere. And, you see, this whole situation makes no sense. It simply doesn't. I have the highest regard for Sara, as you know, but…she HAS you, you know? She waited years for you, per the rumor mill. You quit the job that was your life for her. Traipsed through the rain forest to get her and married the girl! I overheard her telling this tale to Greg, myself.
And…she's just sitting here. Absolutely content. Goes off once in a while, allegedly to visit you, but who knows? And she has this self-satisfied smirk on her face, from time to time. Which is…nothing short of frightening, frankly.
And…well, here goes. I must spell it out.
You and I both know how smart she is. She really could pull off the perfect crime. Perhaps the reality of living with you was different then the dream.
Aw, hell! The fact of the matter is, I fear for your health and safety. No, I fear for your very life!
Call me! I will not rest until I hear your voice!
Deepest Regards,
David Hodges
Grissom sat, with his mouth wide-open, and stared at the computer screen for a full minute. Then he burst into laughter. Hank ran over to his side-this time, without even waiting for his bribe.
XXXXXX
The next night, Grissom was laying back on the couch-his absolute favorite spot when it came to talking with Sara on the phone. She was telling him all about the latest case, he was just listening to the enthusiasm in her voice.
"Oh," he interrupted. "Before I forget, why were you asking me about golf?"
He listened to her laugh and his heart felt a bit warmer in his chest. "Oh, nothing. We had a case and Greg asked me how you felt about golf. He feels that it's a game you'd enjoy…but, I just couldn't answer him because I just didn't know. I guess it's one of the two or three things we haven't discussed."
"We've had more pressing concerns. For the record, I don't like it."
"No?"
"No. It's a bit too dull for me."
"Okay, I'll tell him."
"Wait! I forgot something else. Is…" he swallowed a moment. The things he had to do…"Is Hodges around?"
"Um…yeah. In the lab. Right across the hall. Actually, I think I just caught him staring at me."
"Well, could I … speak with him a moment?"
"Sure. But, why?"
"It's…complicated. I'll tell you later."
"Oh…kay. Hang on a minute. And, in case he hangs up or we get interrupted by work…"
"I know," he said, pressing his ear closer to the phone, "I love you, too."
She smiled into the phone and he waited while he heard her walk out into the hall. The one advantage of almost losing his hearing was he memorized the sounds of almost everything in the lab. He could honestly identify exact locations by simply…listening.
"It's Grissom…he'd…uh…like to talk with you?"
Sara sounded so bewildered that he had to stifle a hysterical laugh.
He could hear the phone being passed and heard Hodges officious voice, even though his hand was probably muffling part of the cell phone, "Sara? Some privacy, please?"
"I'll need my phone back when you're done," she said, in a voice that was laced with pure, unadulterated warning.
"Of course," Hodges said. "…and thank you." Grissom heard Hodges remove his hand from over the cell phone. "Gil?"
"Well, it's not the Ghost of Christmas Past, I'm happy to report."
He heard the sound of Hodges laugh and was suddenly…irritated. Breathe, he told himself.
"Oh, I know that. I apologize for over-reacting."
"You accused my wife of murdering me and hiding my body. Did you ever, perhaps, think of just calling the Sorbonne?"
"Well, no, I didn't," he said, and Grissom knew he was taking a moment to ponder this simple solution that had somehow escaped him. "I guess I was too busy trying to figure out how she did it. But, today, I realized that she didn't…well, you know…"
"I know. But, how did you figure this out?"
"Well, you know….women. Sidle…always had this…I don't know. Softness, I guess, when she spoke about you. It was almost imperceptible at times but it was there. And when the phone rang a half hour ago and she answered it, I knew it was you and that you were alive and well. I could tell…from that softness that came over her again. It's quite nice."
"Yes, I'm aware of that, too. So, conspiracy theories can stop now?"
"Absolutely," he said. Then added, "You're not going to tell Sara, are you? Because, really, she could pull off the perfect crime and she does have a temper…"
"She's not out to kill you, Hodges. She has better uses for her time."
"Good. And…speaking of good, it's very good to hear your voice. Even if you aren't dead."
"Thanks. I think."
And, with that, Hodges regaled Grissom with 10 minutes of chatter before Grissom begged off using the old "recharge my phone" excuse.
Some things, never changed.
XXXXX
In a supreme moment of stupidity (one I've regretted probably more than any other in my life), I once implied that I needed more than the safety of knowing I was not alone in the world. I think (no-I know) I was trying to manipulate you into staying in town, at a time when you just couldn't.
I miss you. But, I find myself walking down the street and just…smiling. Perhaps like one who is just short of being completely demented.
Because I'm thinking of you. And know you are thinking of me.
I think of where we were, and where we are now. Relationship-wise. I think of commitment; of a life-long vow.
And, this knowledge may not be everything, but…the security it brings is quite wonderful.
And, for this moment in time, it's exactly what I need.
XXXXX
To: SpouseofSidle
From:
I know it's only been days since my last email. You know, the one I thought you might not be around to read (LOL-that's laugh out loud, in case you didn't know. I overheard Catherine tell Sara that you are notoriously unsavvy in computer lingo. Which, I find hard to believe, knowing you as I do, but I thought I'd hedge my bets and spell out the acronym for you).
In any case, I am doing this as a gesture of friendship. This email, in general. Not the computerese course.
Shortly after non-murder-Gate, I began to think about your relationship. With Sara, I mean. How can you not want to be together? I, myself, am in the midst of working out a relationship, of sorts. Inspired, I might add, by your actions in regards to said /Mrs. Grissom. And I want to be with this lady more than...well, more than I want to be in the lab. And, since you and I have had so much in common, in the way we approach people and situations, I really examined this puzzle.
You see, because of the economy (and a very wicked sense of humor on Catherine's part, I suspect) I have sometimes been put out to do field work. So, puzzle solving of the human kind has now become somewhat of a new, forced-upon-me, hobby.
In any case, I thought of Sara, in particular. It was hard not to notice that, at times, pre-marriage, she was clinging to you like a barnacle on the bottom of a ship. So, How could she be content with the way things are now?
Well, I decided to ask her. Well, after getting several rather colorful suggestions about what I could do with that particular line of inquiry, I pushed her to the point of revelation. And, I can assure you, it was unintentional, as I could tell from her reaction.
She got sort of exasperated and finally blurted out, "Grissom doesn't like to be smothered," and the expression on her face was...telling.
I have no clue what this means, but I thought you should know.
The girl thinks you need your space. That's the conclusion I've drawn. And...well, mano y mano? A little word of advice, my friend. No matter how independent the woman--I think-once in a while, they kind of like a bit of the caveman to shine through. Even if it's against everything within your academic soul.
So, that's it.
I promise not to accuse your wife of murder (well, unless they find my body tomorrow...and then you can do that. LOL! )
And, for my own sake, I'll drop all further interrogations.
Best,
Dave
Grissom could feel his blood pressure reach the boiling point.
Ass-kissing, know it all, budinski of a jackass!
He began to type.
To: .lvpd
From: Spouse of....
Sidle.
When Sara left him...
that first time.
Grissom took a deep breath.
It was difficult.
Taking a breath was difficult at that time. Everyone was so worried about him. And he wanted them to just back off. Be normal. There was no other way of ever getting through it.
And there Hodges was...being...normal. Or as normal as "Dave" ever got.
And he just was a friend, as unlikely as it seemed. Played a game with him, got his mind off of things. Let him know that he was there, if he needed him.
He didn't.
He needed Sara. And, frankly, if the the advice "Dave" was now handing out had come earlier, he might have saved himself nearly a year from hell. But, who was he kidding? Grissom wasn't ready to hear it at the time.
Hodges was right. Academics...spent too much time up in their heads. Sara had much more of a handle on balancing things like that.
Grissom took a chance once. Left everything behind and went to get the girl.
And it worked out beautifully.
Maybe, it was time to go all caveman again.
Damn that Hodges.
XXXXX
Grissom was tying the belt to his robe when he approached the bed.
She tackled him before he could fully sit down.
Uh-oh. He knew what that meant. One look around confirmed his suspicion. His letter was opened and lying on the nightstand. He knew she would straighten their sheets after their … reunion. Hiding the letter between them and the mattress was a very good idea.
"You," she said, kissing him warmly on the neck, "are incorrigible."
"Now, my dear, I'm sure you'd like to reconsider the use of that particular word, given the circumstances."
"How many of these letters are you going to keep writing and never mailing? Is it the post office? Do you have a beef with them? No stamps? What?"
"I like to see your reaction after you read them. I'd never experience that if we were an ocean apart."
She sat back on her haunches and watched him as he made himself more comfortable, stretching out full-length, on his back.
"You're an odd man."
"I know. But, you married me...so, you're not exactly normal yourself."
"True," she said, leaning forward to kiss him quickly and grimacing a bit. "Bad for the back," she said, and stretched out next to him.
She looked at the ceiling for a few moments.
"Okay," she continued. "So, now, we're both unemployed. What next?"
Grissom smiled. He did take Hodges' advice (although he'd never admit that to anyone, least of all, old Dave himself). He finished his commitment at the Sorbonne and was on a plane in less than 2 hours, with his dog in tow.
He had one goal in mind when he came back into the lab. He didn't look to the right or left of him as he set out to achieve it, but marched right into Conrad's office.
"I told you you could borrow my wife. Not keep her."
"She's a brilliant investigator, Grissom," Ecklie said, stopping to frown, no doubt from a sense of deja vu over the words he just used.
"I know that. But she's done here. Understood?"
It was understood.
And, though Sara was shocked to see him, the little dimpled smile she gave him told him she understood (and approved), as well.
He took her hand and then gathered everyone else and took them out for breakfast.
And, as always, there was laughter and camaraderie and ...a slight melancholy.
Things had changed. They would never be able to relive some events in any other way except through their memories.
And, yet, there were new memories waiting to be made. And every second counted.
And he said as much, although probably not in any kind of an eloquent manner. Still, the hidden message was loud and clear.
I love you all but...
Me, man. Sara, woman. Mine. Taking home...now.
"What are you smiling about?" She asked as he lay in bed, grinning to himself.
"The future."
"Ah. The one where we are soon going to be sharing our dog's food?"
"Hardly. I...have a seller for the condo."
She sat up, sharply.
"You do? Are you kidding me?"
"Nope. When I talked to the leasing agent for our apartment in Paris, they asked me if I knew of a real estate agent here. They needed a property for a rich client who loves Vegas. I...told them about ours. Showed them a few snapshots of us around the house...and...sold it. Full asking price. The French-very impulsive people. So, you see, we can move, get a slightly less expensive home in California and...even begin research. On our own dime, before our grant goes through. If you're still interested, that is."
He never knew exactly what she was thinking when she looked at him that way. All he knew was, her looks did things for his ego that nothing else could.
"I'm interested," she said softly. "I heard what you said to Ecklie, by the way. Hodges told me. He 'just happened' to be passing by the office. He told me you were 'virtually Neanderthal."
Grissom rolled his eyes. Hodges...was...Hodges.
And, in this case, the guy wasn't half bad.
"I know how you feel about such things but...I missed you, Sara. And, as selfish as it may sound, I want to be with you more than I want you to continue this...solo journey."
She shrugged. "The journey has been completed for a while, I guess. I just...I don't know. You've always been kind of a lone wolf. So have I, but I have wanted the company more than you seemed to, at times. And I thought if I just sat around and did nothing but wait for our project to begin, you might get bored with me."
"Never."
She stared at him a few seconds more and, apparently satisfied with the veracity of his response, she settled back down next to him.
"I'm glad you went in there to Ecklie. You know, he's been stalling for quite some time. You'd think he'd be happy to get rid of me. I've never been his favorite person."
"Maybe not. But he does recognize your worth as a worker. And, ultimately, that reflects on him."
"I guess. So...we begin again?"
"Yup."
She placed her hand on the side of his face. A little twinkle came to her eyes and she repeated the words they had said just short of a year before.
"I, Sara, take you, Gil..."
He smiled. It wasn't the first time she repeated that particular vow. She loved that line...closet softy that she was.
It was highly appropriate.
They were saying goodbye to Vegas. As it should have been from the beginning. It wasn't a rejection of anything, but an attempt to move forward. To start again. A new exciting journey, with just the two of them.
Hank barked suddenly. Grissom laughed.
" I swear that dog is psychic," he told Sara, and she looked at him quizzically.
A new exciting journey...with just the THREE of them...
"I am part of all I have met," he thought, not for the first time. Okay.
Perhaps there was no such thing as just the three of them.
Because they were carrying around the love and blessings of all those people who had been a part of their lives for so long. And leaving behind their love and blessings to each and every one of them. Until they all got together again, in one way or another.
He felt Sara sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"I loved your letter, by the way," she said, and he squeezed her gently. "Although, I love you even more."
He closed his eyes.
Over a decade ago, he would sometimes lie in bed and try not to dream of a younger student who attended one of his seminars. And her big brown eyes and wide smile would haunt him.
He was on his way to being "settled." He didn't need this complication. Because, he knew, on some level, Sara wasn't just a complication. She was a change of life. And nothing could be scarier to a man like him.
But, he was also a man who had a roller coaster addiction.
Grissom heard the slow, steady breath of his sleeping wife and the nasal snore of his over-cookie-filled dog.
Okay. It wasn't hurtling down the Kingda Ka, but...
Sometimes it was the little thrills in life that made it all worthwhile.
XXXXX
The End.
XXXXX
A/N: Well, I have never written a story over the course of an entire year.
Shame on me. But, it's done. It's been a bit difficult reconciling my romantic ideals with the rather odd turn CSI decided to take this year. They have had so much opportunity to make it special...and they didn't. But, what else is new? If they did everything we expected them to...us ff writers wouldn't be so frustrated and have a deep desire to make things "right." Or, as "right" as we can, given the circumstances.
Anyway, thank you for your patience with me on this one. I appreciate every single one of you who take the time to read my writings and ramblings.