Title: Movie on a Night Off

Author: IrishDachsie

Pairing: Grissom/Sara

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: The author does not own CSI. No profit is being made from this story.

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Part XCVI

Grissom glanced at the clock as the doorbell rang. He looked into the smiling eyes of his son and grinned.

"I have a feeling that would be Greg…"

Holding Michael with his left arm, he walked to the door and opened it. He gave Greg a quick once-over and smiled as he stepped to the side and allowed the young man to enter the house.

"I see you dressed up for the occasion…"

Greg nervously fingered the collar of his orange shirt and motioned towards the giggling baby in his supervisor’s arms. "I see he’s all dressed up as well…"

Grissom chuckled as he closed the door and followed Greg to the couch. "His favorite pajamas…"

"Has nothing to do with your love of baseball, does it?"

The two men shared a genuine laugh as Grissom handed his son to Greg. Michael immediately stretched his legs, placing his small feet on Greg’s leg, and grabbed Greg’s collar.

"Standing already, little man?"

Michael giggled again as his eyes remained focus on the bright color of Greg’s shirt. Grissom stroked the boy’s fine hair before he sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

"He’ll stand there until he falls asleep as long as you’ll hold him. He loves that…"

Hearing the bedroom door close, both men looked towards the hall to see Sara walk into the living room. Grissom smiled and stood, grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

"Ready?"

Nodding quickly, she walked over to the couch and leaned down to place a kiss on her son’s head. "Be good for Uncle Greg tonight, okay Mikey?"

Michael answered by grabbing a loose strand of Sara’s hair and gurgling. Standing back up after removing the tiny fingers from her hair, she looked at Greg. "If you need anything…"

"I have your number, I have Grissom’s…and I’m sure the number for 9-1-1 is still functioning…"

She narrowed her eyes in mock-irritation and followed it quickly with a laugh. "Have fun…and don’t let him go to bed without Rusty…he’ll throw a fit later if you do…"

A few more quick instructions were given as Grissom pulled Sara out the front door. Greg smiled at the young Weevil standing on his lap as the door closed.

"Parents…"

Michael giggled and slapped at Greg’s shoulder.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom stood back from the body with a small jar containing a beetle. He smiled at Sara as she began the task of photographing the body and its surroundings.

"Make a new friend?"

Grissom raised an eyebrow at the detective and tapped the jar lightly. "Always. What did the boy say?"

Brass sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Says he was walking to his girlfriend’s house and stumbled across the body…literally." As Grissom silently questioned him, Brass continued. "Broke his wrist on that rock…"

"Any reason to think otherwise?"

Jim shook his head and shielded his eyes from the bright flash of the camera. "No…but, I have his contact information if needed later…"

"Hey Griss?"

Grissom turned towards the voice and tilted his head as Sara held the young woman’s hand up and shone her flashlight on it. "What did you find?"

"Chipped nails, dirt…rock…" She looked up at the hillside behind her. "I think she fell from up there…"

Grissom looked over his shoulder and motioned for David. "Take the body back and get started…"

He turned around to see his wife already halfway up the hill. "Sara!"

He handed the jar he had been holding in his hand to Brass. "There’s some jerky in the glove compartment…put a small piece of it in here and put him in the back…"

Brass held the jar out from his body and watched the Entomologist clamber up the hill behind Sara. Looking back down at the black beetle, he sighed. "Great…I’ve been demoted again…to bug sitter…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom sat in his office and stared at the specimen he had affectionately named Millie. As he watched Millie crawl over the chunk of jerky that Brass had placed inside, he smiled. If that’s a small piece, I’d hate to see what a lot would be to him…

He looked at the family portrait that had been framed and strategically placed on the wall. Glancing at his watch, he picked up the phone and dialled the number. As the answering machine kicked on, he thought how odd it was to hear his own voice over the phone.

"Grissom residence…we’re unable to take your call right now, leave a message…"

BEEP.

"Greg…you had better be there…and you had better pick up the phone…" He waited a second, and hearing a soft click, he smiled.

"Well, hi to you too. Of course I’m here…where else would I be?"

"Is he doing okay?"

"You know…I would’ve thought Sara would be the one calling to check up on him. Not…you…"

"Greg…"

"Oh, he’s fine, Grissom…"

Hearing a faint noise in the background, Grissom’s brow furrowed. "Greg…what are you doing?"

"Uh…babysitting…"

"No, Greg. What’s the noise?"

"Oh…that. The television…"

Quickly losing his patience, he took a deep breath. "Greg…what are you watching?"

"Music in it sounds like a porno, doesn’t it?"

"GREG!"

"Calm down, Griss…we’re just watching Robin Hood…"

"The Disney version?"

Greg rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah…you know…the one with the fox…I brought it over with me. And…good thing I did. He loves it!"

"I don’t even want to know why you have it…but…as long as he likes it…"

"I’m good with kids, Grissom. It’s only you that used to make me nervous…"

"Greg…what color is his hair?"

"Michael’s? Or…Robin’s? Because…Robin doesn’t technically have hair…he has fur…but, it’s a reddish-brown color…"

"Michael’s hair, Greg!"

"Dark brown…"

"Good, make sure it stays that color…"

Greg laughed loudly into the phone. "I’ll see what I can do about that…hey, listen…he’s getting tired, so I’m going to go put him down now…"

"Don’t forget…"

"Rusty…I got it, Griss…trust me. Tell Sara I said hi and we’ll see y’all when you get home…"

"Okay…just…thanks." He hung up the phone quickly, feeling somewhat more relaxed having spoken to the young man.

"How is he?"

Grissom jumped slightly and looked towards the door to see his wife leaning against the doorframe with a grin on her face.

"Huh?"

"How’s Cubbie?"

"Weevil is fine…"

Her grin widening, she walked around his desk and sat on the corner. Leaning towards him slightly, she rubbed his shoulder. "I knew you’d end up calling. What are they doing?"

He leaned into her touch and didn’t bother attempting to stop the smile forming on his lips. "Watching Robin Hood…apparently Michael loves it…"

"We’ll have to find it for him then…"

Grissom nodded, his eyes falling to the folder placed on his desk. "What did you find out about Allie Butler?"

"Looks like a complete accident. Went out for a jog…fell over the edge, hit her head on the rock when she landed at the bottom. She tried to stop her fall though…broke a few nails. The grit we scraped out from under her nails matched the sediment from the hillside…"

She handed him her analysis and smiled as he looked over it before adding his signature to the bottom. He closed the folder, slid it into the "Out" box, and leaned back in his chair.

"I told you it would be a boring night…"

"Hey…I’m having fun. Make the most of what you have…"

He looked at her suddenly and returned his chair to its original position. "Hey, you know…we could take a quick break…and…go tell Weevil goodnight…"

"Gil…Greg is doing fine, I’m sure of it…"

"Who says it has anything to do with Greg?"

She shook her head slowly as her smile resurfaced. Taking his hand, she pulled him up and led him out the door. "Just to say goodnight…"

"Of course…"

She chuckled as she heard his soft mutter. "His hair better be brown when we get there…"

Part XCVII

 She chuckled lightly as he slowly slid the key into the lock. He turned to look at her, his eyes holding a silent question.

"Trying to sneak in on them?"

He shook his head as his brow furrowed in slight annoyance. "No…if Weevil’s asleep, I don’t want to wake him…"

He pushed the door open, thankful that the hinges didn’t squeak. He was pulling the key from the lock when he heard a soft gasp. He immediately turned his head towards the sound. Then, just as quickly, he followed her gaze into the living room.

He exhaled softly and followed Sara as she walked towards the couch, careful not to wake the two boys. He smiled as she retrieved the camera and snapped a quick picture.

Greg had apparently fallen asleep while watching television. He was stretched across the leather sofa, lying on his side. Mikey’s soft cotton blanket covered the leather in front of Greg’s body. The baby’s head was cradled in the crook of his right arm, his left was lightly, yet protectively, draped over the boy. Clutched in his tiny hands, Rusty rested against Michael’s chest.

Grissom knelt beside of the couch and gently smoothed his son’s dark hair. He chuckled softly as Greg’s arm tightened around the baby’s body as he attempted to lift the sleeping boy into his arms.

Greg’s eyes snapped open as he felt the warm body slide from his arm. His heart raced as the image of Michael falling to the floor ran through his mind. Not hearing the sickly thud that he had been expecting, his eyes cleared to see Sara smiling down at him. He shifted his gaze to the left to find Grissom holding the sleeping baby with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Greg quickly sat up and smoothed his shirt down. "Sorry, I guess I fell asleep…"

Grissom offered the young man a smile. "Easy to do when he dozes off…" His eyes found his wife. "I’m just going to put him in the crib…"

She gave her son a gentle kiss on his head. "I can do it…"

Grissom shook his head as he smiled sweetly at her. "My turn…you did it last night…"

Greg stifled his chuckle as he watched Grissom leave the room after making sure that he had Rusty as well as Michael. He suddenly realized that it was dark outside. "Sara…what are you doing here?"

Sara laughed lightly as she sat down beside of him. "We live here…"

Giving her an exasperated sigh, he turned to look at her. "No, I mean…"

"Gil just wanted to say goodnight to Michael…"

"Oh…okay."

"And to make sure that his hair wasn’t blue…"

Greg’s eyes widened briefly until Sara laughed. He relaxed and joined in with her, leaning back into the sofa.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He was driving back to the lab when her cell phone began to ring. Quickly pulling it from her belt, she reached over and turned the radio down before she answered it.

"Grissom."

He grinned broadly. It didn’t matter how many times he heard her answer the phone with her married name…it always made him smile.

"What?"

He turned to look at her, concerned by the tone in her voice.

"What’s the address, Brass?" She grabbed a pen from the console and scribbled down the information quickly. "No…Grissom and I are closer. We’ll take it…be there in about five minutes…"

She hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

"Sara? What is it?"

"1210 Thompson Drive. Male DB…Brass is there…"

Feeling that there was more to it than what she had told him, he reached over and gently squeezed her hand. "Sara?"

She swallowed and glanced at him before returning her eyes to the windshield. "His name is Allen James and…you should turn here…"

Grissom made the requested turn before shooting her a confused look. "Allen James?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yeah…suspected abuse. Found dead by his older brother in his crib. Swelling, bruising…Brass said there is some scarring…"

Grissom hadn’t heard anything past the word ‘crib’. His voice was shaky as he made the turn onto Thompson Drive. "How old is he?"

"Four months…"

He screeched to a halt behind the line of police cruisers and stared at his wife. "What?"

"The others were following up their evidence…we were closer." She turned to look at him. "We can do this, Grissom. We have to…he deserves that much…"

"Four months? How old is the brother?"

"Eight." She squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. "Come on…let’s see what we can do…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Brass walked up to the two investigators, his left hand rubbing his neck. "This one…it’s bad, guys…"

Grissom stared at the house. "It always is bad, Jim…"

Brass nodded as Grissom glanced at his wife before focusing his eyes on the detective. "What’s the prelim here?"

"Allen James, four months old. Definite signs of long-term abuse…well, as long-term as it can be when he’s four months…" Brass glanced at the officer talking to a young boy. "Jesse, the eight-year-old brother, called 911 when he couldn’t wake the baby to feed him…"

Sara’s mouth dropped open. "To feed him?" As Brass nodded slowly, she continued. "Where are the parents?"

Brass shrugged his shoulders. "Not here…"

Sara’s eyes darkened. "The parents left their eight-year-old son to take care of his four-month-old brother…in the middle of the night…"

Grissom laid a gentle hand on Sara’s arm. "Calm down, honey…"

She glared at her husband. "Sometimes…I hate this job…"

Grissom took a deep breath as he looked into her eyes. "I know…so do I. But, we do have a job to do…"

Her eyes softened slightly as she nodded her understanding. "Okay…"

"I’m going to start processing the body…question the brother and then meet me inside…"

She nodded and walked off in the direction of the boy. Brass sighed heavily as the two men watched her.

"Gil…I’m sorry about this."

"It’s part of the job, Jim…let’s go…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sara knelt in front of the obviously distraught young boy. "Jesse?"

Tears fell from his dark eyes as he lifted his head to look at her. "I’m in trouble…"

She resisted the urge to pull the boy into her arms. "No…no, you’re not in trouble, Jesse."

"When Dale comes back, I will be…"

"Who is Dale?"

"My stepfather." The words were said quietly as another tear rolled down his cheek.

"Where’s your mother, Jesse?"

"At work. Dale told me that Allen was my brother and I had to take care of him while he was gone." His hand wiped his face. "I’m going to be in trouble."

Sara fought back her own tears as she sat down in front of the boy and took his small hand into hers. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Allen was crying. I tried to keep him quiet. Dale gets mad when Allen cries too much. I sang to him. That’s what Mom does when he cries, she sings to him. So, I sang to him."

"What did you sing?"

"Row, row, row your boat…"

Sara smiled at Jesse. "I bet he liked that…"

"It’s his favorite song. I sing it to him a lot."

"What happened after you sang to Allen?"

Jesse wrapped his thin arms around his abdomen and rocked himself gently. "Dale told me to shut up. He said he’d get Allen to go to sleep. He pushed me out of the room. Allen cried real hard for a few minutes. Then he went to sleep. When Dale came out of Allen’s room, he said I had to take care of him because he was going out. He told me to make sure that I fed him later."

Sara’s heart wrenched in her chest. "Do you know where Dale went?"

Jesse shook his head slowly.

Sara smoothed down the boy’s hair and motioned to an officer. "Officer McCoy is going to stay here with you while I go inside and check on Allen, okay?"

"Who?"

McCoy sat down beside of Jesse and smiled softly at Sara. "He knows me as Joe, don’t you?"

Jesse smiled and moved closer to the officer. "You stayed."

Joe put his arm around the boy. "Told you I would…"

Seeing that Jesse was okay with McCoy staying with him, she stood and made her way into the house.

Part XCVIII

Grissom walked into the small bedroom and stopped just inside of the door. He felt his heart race as he looked at the tattered crib sitting against the wall. Taking a deep breath, he moved to the side of the baby’s bed.

His heart seemed to stop as he stared at the battered body lying crumpled on the dirty sheets. He methodically slipped his hands into the latex gloves before sliding the side of the crib down.

"My God…"

His voice was no louder than a choked whisper as he lightly ran his finger across the deep bruise on the boy’s chest. His eyes examined the still body, stopping when they found the small circular scar on the inside of the baby’s knee.

He suddenly felt nauseous. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he was able to stop the scream before it escaped his lips.

"Jim…"

"I think it’s pretty much cut and dry…don’t you?"

"This poor child…what he must’ve had to endure." He turned his darkened eyes towards the detective. "Who else lives here?"

"The mother, Helen, and her boyfriend, Dale. Helen is at work…we’ve sent a cruiser over to pick her up. Dale is…apparently AWOL."

Grissom stood and stared at Brass. "I want to talk to the mother…and…find the boyfriend."

A loud gasp turned his head towards the door. "Sara…"

He rushed over to her, positioning his body between her and the crib. "The stepfather…"

Grissom held her in his arms and looked down at her. "Stepfather? There is no stepfather…"

"Jesse said Dale is his stepfather…"

Grissom nodded. "The mother is being picked up. They’re looking for Dale. You and I are going back to the lab, turn the evidence in…and then we’re going to talk to a…Helen James…while Robbins finds the actual cause of death."

Grissom relaxed his hold on his wife as he spoke. She took the opportunity to push away from him and rush to the crib. "Sara!"

"Oh my God…"

She reached a gloved hand into the crib and touched the boy’s head. She choked back a sob as she looked over his small body. She felt familiar hands gently pull her back.

"How could someone…how could a person do this?"

"I don’t know, Sara…I just don’t know…"

"Why didn’t the mother stop it? She had to have known! How could a mother NOT know about this? How could she let it happen?"

Grissom led her out of the room and motioned for David to go inside to collect the body. "We’re going to find out everything, Sara. You know we will."

"And…what happens to Jesse? He’s only eight…"

"Come on Sara…" He pressed his warm hand against the small of her back and walked her to the Tahoe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They stood outside of the interrogation room as Brass talked to Helen James. Grissom watched his wife carefully, mentally choosing the right words to say to her.

"Sara…"

"Gil, I’m not going to go ballistic, okay? I just…I need to know why she let him die."

He sighed heavily as he rubbed her back gently. "At the first sign of you losing your control, I’ll send you out of the room. We can’t…"

She interrupted him quickly. "I know. Let’s just…go, okay?"

He allowed his eyes to travel slowly over her face before meeting her eyes. He exhaled softly and nodded his head. Opening the door, they walked into the room where Brass was staring silently at the mother.

Grissom took the seat directly across from the woman as Sara sat down in the chair to his right. Sara stared into the red-rimmed eyes of Helen James and took a deep breath.

"I…I never wanted…this to…happen…"

Grissom leaned forward and folded his hands together on the table. "Mrs. James…"

"Ms…I’m not married…"

Giving her a brief nod, Grissom continued. "Ms. James…Allen’s body shows signs of long-term abuse." He pulled a picture out of his folder and pushed it across the table. "Do you know what that circular scar is?"

Tears began to flow down her face. "I told him not to…not to smoke around the baby…"

Sara bit her lip as Grissom leaned back slightly. "Him?"

"Dale…I was always telling him not to smoke around Allen…"

Sara released her lip and leaned forward. "Ms. James, this scar didn’t come from your boyfriend smoking in the vicinity of your son."

The woman glared at Sara. "What are you trying to say?"

Sara took a deep breath and pushed another picture across the table. Helen gasped as she looked at the photograph of Allen’s chest. "What caused this bruise, Ms. James?"

"I…I don’t know…"

Grissom cleared his throat softly. "Ms. James, it looks to be evidence of a physical blow to your son’s torso."

"He…he was choking. Dale smacked his chest to…clear his airway…"

Grissom stared at the woman sitting in front of him. "And the bruising around Allen’s mouth and nose?"

"I don’t know…"

Sara gripped the pen in her hand. "Why are you protecting him, Ms. James?"

The woman’s eyes widened in what could only be considered as shock. "What?"

Brass shot Grissom a look of concern.

Grissom watched his wife as she calmly spoke to the woman. "Your son…your four-month-old son…was being abused by your boyfriend. Jesse, your eight-year-old son, was left in a house alone in the middle of the night with his dead brother and told to take care of him. And you’re going to try to tell me that you didn’t know all of this was taking place?"

Another flood of tears fell from Helen’s dark eyes. "Dale didn’t mean to hurt him…I know that…"

"Ms. James…your son has scarring from cigarette burns on his legs."

"That was an accident…the cigarette fell and…and it landed on Allen…"

Brass interrupted quickly. "Ma’am…evidence is telling us that a cigarette was crushed out on Allen’s skin. It didn’t just…fall. Would you like to try the truth now?"

Helen stared at the detective and sat back. "I love him…he would never do anything to intentionally hurt the children…"

Grissom tilted his head and looked into her eyes. "Ms. James, Allen is dead…from months of abuse. And…it wasn’t intentional?"

"Allen cried a lot…Dale has bad nerves…"

Sara placed her palms on the table and glared at the mother. "So, that gave him the right to burn, hit, and smother your son? How could you sit by and let it happen over and over? Babies cry…it’s part of it. That’s their way of communication…"

"I love him…"

Sara stood up and exhaled forcefully. "You know what? I love my husband, but if he ever hit our son out of anger…I’d take my son and leave. As much as I love my husband, my son’s safety is paramount."

Without another word, Sara walked out of the room. Grissom watched the door close and then turned his eyes back to Helen James. "You knew what was happening, Ms. James. You could’ve taken steps to stop the abuse, but you didn’t. That makes you an accessory."

Grissom stood, glanced at Brass, and made his way out of the room as Helen James began crying hysterically.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He found Sara in his office staring at the family portrait on the wall. He closed the door behind him and walked over to her. She jumped slightly as he startled her with his gentle touch on her arm.

"Gil…I just…had to get out of there."

"I know, honey. She’s being charged as an accessory…they’ve found Dale Lombard. He was playing the slots down at Four Queens."

"Nice…he kills a baby, leaves a child alone…to play slots…just…fucking…nice…"

"Sara…"

She turned her glistening eyes towards him. "I don’t want to see him…I can’t."

He nodded in understanding as he pulled her up and into his arms. "Jesse was taken to Olive Crest…"

"At least he’ll have a chance now…"

He stroked her hair as he felt her tears soak through his shirt. He swallowed as a tear slipped from his own eye.

"Gil?"

"Yes?"

"What…happens to Allen now?"

Grissom sighed heavily. "With the only family being his brother, the state will have his body taken care of…"

"Gil…"

"Unless…someone offers to pay for his cremation or burial…"

She offered him a weak smile, which he returned. "Cremation would probably be better in this case…at least that way, his body will finally be…free…"

Grissom nodded and wiped her tears away. "I’d already spoken to Al about it…I wanted to talk it over with you first."

"I love you." It was a simple statement, whispered softly in the safe confines of his office.

He returned her sentiment with a gentle kiss. "Let’s go home, Sara."

Part XCIX

The steam bellowed out of the shower as Grissom opened the glass door and stepped inside. He stood under the hot spray and placed his palms on the cooler ceramic tile. He dipped his head down slightly, allowing the water to run down his back over his tired muscles. Though he tried not to think about the disturbing case they had gone through that night, Allen James’ image kept invading his mind.

He sighed heavily as he reached for the shampoo and snapped the lid open. As he squeezed the thick, golden liquid into his hand, he smiled. Baby shampoo…my baby’s shampoo.

He quickly lathered his hair and rinsed the suds from his curls. As he reached for the bar of soap, his smile widened. 99.4% pure…still not gentle enough for Weevil’s skin. Johnson & Johnson is making a fortune. Shampoo, baby bath, baby lotion, baby powder. I need to remember to pick up a bottle of Soothing Vapor Baby Bath…he had a slight cough yesterday.

He stood there for a few moments, taking a deep breath as he realized that Allen would never feel a loving parent’s hands rubbing the mild lotion into his sensitive skin. He’s not in pain now…he’s happy now. He allowed that thought to push its way to the front of his mind as he washed the soap from his body, along with the bad memories of the day.

He quickly turned the water off and stepped out onto the bathmat outside of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he quickly dried his body and slid into the clean boxers and sweatpants that Sara had placed on the countertop for him.

As he ran the brush through his wet hair, he smiled as he heard the familiar giggle coming from the living room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He stood in the doorway between the hall and the living room, smiling as he watched Sara play with Michael. The baby giggled happily as she tickled his ribs before lifting him above her head.

"It’s a bird, it’s a plane…no…it’s…Super Weevil!" She lightly spun around as she made the sound of an airplane.

She laughed as the boy’s hazel eyes widened as she dipped her arms down. "Oh no! It looks like…AHH!…a…crash landing!"

She plopped down onto the couch, still holding Weevil up. As she lowered him to her chest, he giggled loudly and kicked his legs.

"What? You want to do it again?" Lifting him back up, she grinned at him as she brought him back down quickly. She laughed as he let out a tiny squeal of delight.

Bending her knees, she sat Michael up on her stomach and leaned his back against her thighs. She ran her fingers through his dark curls with one hand as his tiny hand wrapped around the index finger of her other hand. She brushed the back of her hand across his soft cheek and smiled.

"Oh, I love you Mikey…"

He responded with a soft coo.

"You are such a wonderful mother…"

She looked up to see Grissom leaning against the doorframe, grinning at her. Michael’s head turned quickly in the same direction, hearing his father’s voice. He bounced excitedly against Sara’s thighs and offered Grissom a huge grin.

"And…I think our son is a ‘daddy’s boy’…" She chuckled as Grissom reached down to pick Mikey up.

He gently nudged her legs, requesting for her to make room for him on the couch. "No…he’s just…a happy boy." His eyes locked with his son’s. "Aren’t you, buddy?"

Sara draped her legs over Grissom’s lap as Grissom placed Weevil between Sara’s leg and the back of the couch. A giggling Michael slapped at Sara’s leg as Grissom’s hands rubbed her ankles.

He looked into her dark eyes as his hand slipped under the leg of her pants and rubbed her shin. "How are you?"

She smiled lightly. "I’m okay. Playing with him helps." She chuckled as Michael looked up at Grissom and squealed. "How are you?"

"Watching you play with him helps…"

Grissom lifted her legs, slid out from underneath them, and carefully stood up. Reaching down, he picked the baby up and walked over to the cushioned blanket spread across the floor. After laying him down on the blanket, he turned on the lighted activity center and chuckled as Michael reached for Mickey Mouse.

Returning to his seat, he pulled Sara’s legs back to his lap and resumed his tender caresses of her skin. "Sara?"

She turned her eyes from their son and looked into the darkened blue eyes of her husband. "Hm?"

He swallowed lightly. "I would never…never do anything to hurt you or Michael…"

She sat up quickly and reached out to touch his face. "God, Gil…I know that…"

He nodded slowly. "I just…I wanted you to know…"

She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I love you…"

His hand slipped around her waist as he held her tightly against him. "I love you too…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She walked over and picked up the baby who had fallen asleep to the soft sounds of the ‘Mickey Mouse March’ that had been playing on the activity center. Giving Grissom a smile and a nod of her head, she turned down the hall and walked towards the nursery. Grissom quickly followed her.

Together, they made sure their son was comfortable and safe in his crib. Flipping the baby monitor on, they gazed at the sleeping Weevil before slipping out of the room and pulling the door three-quarters of the way closed.

She tugged on her husband’s hand, leading him to their bedroom. She closed the door behind them and leaned her back against it. He watched her carefully as she slowly unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing.

Looking back into her eyes, he licked his lips as the question rose to his blue irises. She smiled as the garment dropped from her shoulders and fell to the floor.

"I’m sure, Gil." She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. "It was a rough night for both of us…and…right now, I just need to feel you…" She took a step towards him as she dropped the bra. "I need to feel how much you love us…"

She stopped directly in front of him, placing her palms against his warm chest. Her lips pressed against his collarbone before she looked into his eyes. "I need you, Gil…"

His fingers brushed down her sides, stopping only he reached the waistband of her jeans. She groaned lightly as he grabbed her hips and pulled her tightly against his half-naked body. Her subsequent moan was muffled as his mouth covered hers.

His hand moved in between them and unbuttoned her jeans. As he slid the zipper down, his tongue dove into her mouth. As he eased his fingers between her jeans and flesh, his mouth moved to her neck. His teeth nipped lightly at her skin before his tongue licked a path to her breastbone.

His eyes opened suddenly as she pulled out of his arms and took a step backwards. She licked her lips seductively before offering him a bright smile. Her eyes fell to his sweatpants as she slowly shed her jeans. She grinned as she stood before him, her nude form captivating him.

"Babe?"

"Hm?"

She chuckled softly as she stepped back towards him. She ran her finger over the obvious bulge covered by the dark blue fleece. "You plan on keeping these on?"

"Huh?" His eyes darted towards hers. "Oh…"

His slightly trembling hands slid his sweatpants and boxers down and off. He sat down on the bed as he kicked his clothing out of his way. His right hand stroked his erection twice before he released it and motioned for her to come to him. His eyes soaked in her beauty as she sauntered to him. Reaching his left hand out, he took hold of her hip and pulled her in between his legs.

Placing a soft kiss on her abdomen, he tilted his face upwards and stared into her eyes. His fingertips traced small circles on her hips before his hands slid around and cupped her firm ass. He felt her muscles quiver slightly as he ran his tongue across her stomach, pausing to dip the rough muscle into her navel.

Her hands gently pushed on his shoulders, tipping him backwards. "Sara…"

She silenced him with a kiss as she moved onto the bed beside of him. He followed her lead as she rolled onto her back, tugging on his arm in a request to move with her. He broke the kiss as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Hey…"

"Please…Gil…I need you now…"

He gazed into her eyes as he dipped his finger into her slick folds. He groaned as he felt the moisture there. Realizing his intentions, she pulled his hand away and grinned as she wrapped her lips around his finger. As she released the digit, she licked her lips and reached up to run her fingers through his hair.

"Foreplay…can wait…"

He inhaled sharply as she bucked her hips up towards him. "It’s called…foreplay…for a reason…"

Reaching between their bodies, she grasped his hardened flesh and guided it into her hot depths. "Then…oh, God…we…uh…we can have…afterplay…oh Gil…"

His chuckle was smothered in his throat as her inner walls tightened around him, pulling him deeper into her. A deep moan escaped his throat as she pushed her hips into him again. He pulled back until the head threatened to pop out, and stayed there.

Her eyes fluttered open and stared at him in confusion. "Please…"

He smiled as he leaned down, capturing her earlobe in between his lips. "What…do you want?"

Her nails clawed at his back as his hand held her hips still. "Don’t…tease…me…"

He gently licked her helix, allowing his hot breath to skim across her ear. "Is that…what I’m doing?"

She attempted to move her hips upwards, but his hand gripped her tighter. "Asshole…"

"I love you…"

"Please…Gil…just…"

Her rambling sentence died in her throat, replaced by a lust-drenched scream as he slammed his hips into hers. Her left hand tangled in his hair as her right gripped his back tightly. His lips danced over the sensitive flesh from her neck to her shoulder, his tongue dragging back over the path his lips had just taken.

He increased his pace with each thrust, her moans became louder each time he brushed across her g-spot. His lips placed a tender kiss on her ear.

"I love you…so much…Sara…"

She grunted his name in reply as she matched his thrusts with an equal ferocity. Her hands moved down his ribcage as he continued to plunge into her. He lifted his upper body up so that he could look down at her. He smiled as he saw the red mark on her shoulder. His smile widened as he felt her contract around him.

"Come…come for me…Sara…"

She screamed his name as her hot juices flooded over his heated flesh. Her inner walls squeezed him tightly, almost…painfully. He let out a primal groan as he erupted inside of her. He stopped his motion almost immediately as he felt her muscles shudder violently once again.

He collapsed on top of her, his breath hot and heavy in her ear. Her hands roamed across his sweat-covered back, holding him to her chest. He felt her chest rumble as she tried to speak. He halted her attempt with a kiss.

He smiled down at her as he surrendered her lips. Her trembling fingers raked through his hair as she tiredly returned his smile.

"I love you too, Gil…"

They rolled onto their sides, facing each other. The sound of the heavy, peaceful breathing of their son lulled them into sleep.

Allen James slipped into their dreams as a healthy, happy little boy.

Part C

Four months later, Michael O’Brien Grissom was seven months old and crawling like a fiend. He had started at five months and hadn’t slowed down one bit. Baby gates were placed strategically through the townhouse, effectively turning the three bedroom home into a huge playpen.

Grissom sat on the couch and laughed as Michael crawled across the floor, chasing a baseball that his father had rolled. As his son’s small hands grasped the white ball between the red threads, he grinned up at his father. "Mine!"

"Actually, Weevil…that one is mine…"

The boy shook his head and laughed as he clutched the ball tightly against his chest. "Mine!"

Grissom reached his hand towards the dark-haired boy. "Give Daddy the ball…"

Michael’s brow furrowed in that distinct Grissom manner. "No…" His voice was soft, but determined.

"Mikey…"

"No. Mine."

Grissom tried to hide his smile as his son held the baseball possessively in both of his small hands and attempted to crawl away. He cleared his throat softly and lowered his voice.

"Michael O’Brien Grissom…"

Mikey stopped suddenly and looked at his father with the expression on his face that clearly asked why his father had called him by his full given name. Grissom laughed and walked over, quickly plucking his son from the floor and prying the ball from his hands.

Michael’s eyes narrowed, his bottom lip quivered slightly, before his eyes began to glisten. "Mikey…don’t cry…"

Grissom sighed as a tear fell down his son’s face just as the piercing wail escaped his trembling lips. He dropped the baseball onto the couch beside of him and grabbed the plush replica that was resting on the end table. Holding it in front of the crying boy, he spoke softly.

"Here you go, Weevil…here’s your baseball…"

A small hand pushed the ball away. "No!"

Grissom sighed heavily as Mikey wiped the back of his hand across his face. "I think someone needs a nap…"

As Michael cried louder, Grissom nodded his head and stood. As he made the journey over the baby gates towards the hall, Mikey grasped the plush baseball that Grissom was holding and sniffled. "Mine…"

Grissom chuckled as he placed his son in the crib. "Yes, that one is yours. You take a nap and when you wake up, I’ll teach you the fundamentals of baseball…"

"Gil…he’s seven months old…"

Grissom turned towards the sweet voice lingering in the nursery doorway and grinned. "I’m well aware of his age, Sara…but, it’s important to start things like this as early as possible…"

She shook her head and chuckled at her husband. "How was your night?"

"Nice…and quiet. He slept most of the night. Apparently he didn’t inherit insomnia from his mother." He offered Sara a bright smile. "How was your night?"

"Busy…served a warrant, solved the case, arrested a couple of people." She walked into her husband’s warm embrace. "I missed both of you…"

He kissed her lips softly and smiled. "We missed you too…come on, I’ll fix some breakfast…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With the breakfast dishes cleared from the table and placed in the dishwasher, he ushered her off to the bedroom. "Gil…"

"You need to sleep…I’ll watch Weevil, you rest. When he wakes up, we might go to the grocery store…"

Sara yawned as she sank onto the bed. "Grocery store, huh?"

Grissom pulled the sheet and blanket up over her torso. "Yeah…"

"Teaching him the fundamentals of shopping as well?"

Grissom narrowed his eyes playfully. "No…it’s just easier to pick up women if you have a cute baby with you…"

Sara chuckled softly as her eyes closed. "I’ll…kick your…ass…"

He grinned down at his wife and brushed his fingers through her hair. "I’m sure you would…"

He quietly exited the room, checked in on his son once more, and then made his way into the living room. He picked up the blue journal-type book that was resting on top of the entertainment center for easy access. He smiled as he read the first page.

Michael O’Brien Grissom

August 17, 2003

He flipped through the pages as he picked up the pen he once used solely for crossword puzzles. Now it was used by both him and Sara to record the events of their child’s life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sara smiled as she opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. Realizing she had slept for five hours straight, she tilted her head and strained to hear anything other than silence.

The house was quiet, the only sound coming from the filter on the fish aquarium that they had bought for Michael. "Hm…they must’ve actually gone shopping…"

She padded barefoot into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. She stared at the contents for a brief moment before pulling out a jar of pineapple juice. She poured the cold liquid into a glass and gulped it down quickly.

Though she wasn’t really hungry, she had the munchies. Grabbing a box of Wheat Thins, she walked back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. She smiled as she saw that her husband had been writing in Weevil’s baby book again. She picked up the book as she tossed a few of the small crackers into her mouth.

Not really understanding why, her eyes focused on the date. She stared at the date for a few moments before realization finally dawned on her. She groaned lightly as she confirmed the date with the calendar hanging on the wall and then rushing to the computer and hovering the mouse’s cursor over the time displayed in the lower right corner of the screen. Finally convinced that the date was correct, she ran her fingers through her dark hair.

"Shit…"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hearing the Tahoe pull into the driveway, she went outside to help him bring the purchases inside. He grinned at her as he handed Michael to her and grabbed four of the bags himself.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did…" She looked around him into the interior of the vehicle. She looked at his face and smiled at the look of confusion she found there. "No women worthy of picking up?"

He offered her a lopsided grin and shrugged his shoulders. "You think I’m stupid enough to bring them home? I dropped them off a couple of blocks down the road…"

She playfully slapped his arm as he turned and made his way up the walkway to the front door. She followed him into the kitchen and placed Michael in the highchair as she grabbed a jar of sweet potatoes from one of the bags.

Grissom automatically handed her a blue plastic-coated spoon over his shoulder as he heard the seal on the jar pop loose. "What do you want for dinner tonight?"

She shrugged her shoulders lightly as she slid a spoonful of sweet potato puree into her son’s open mouth. "Not really hungry…whatever you want is fine…"

He turned around and looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just not hungry…"

Grissom’s gaze shifted to his son as Michael began to blow sweet potato raspberries at him. He shook his head slowly as he pulled a baby wipe from the box and wiped the boy’s face quickly. Looking down at his shirt, he sighed as he saw the orange-yellowish stain on the cotton material.

"I’ll be back in a minute…" Sara acknowledged him with a nod. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Think about what you want for dinner, okay?"

She returned his smile and offered him a wink before she pushed another spoonful of the baby food into Michael’s mouth.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Grissom glanced into the mirror and grinned as he saw Sara’s reflection beside of his. "Where’s Weevil?"

"Playpen…" She watched him carefully as he washed the remnants of the stain-removing agent from his hands.

"Have you decided on what you want for dinner?"

"Really, Gil…I’m not hungry…"

His eyes met hers in the mirror. "Are you sure that you’re okay?"

"I’m positive…seriously, I’m just…"

A tiny cry for her attention interrupted her sentence. "Ma-ma!"

They exchanged a loving smile before she turned to go to their son. She hesitated in the doorway and turned back around. "Gil?"

"Yeah, honey?" His voice was slightly muffled by the wet, thick cotton washcloth that he was using to wash his face.

"Would you prefer a boy or a girl this time?"

His scrubbing motion stopped abruptly. Letting the cloth slide off of his hands and into the sink, he turned at stared at her. "What?"

They stared at one another for a moment before they both began to smile lightly. "When did…when did you find out?"

"While you were out…I made a quick trip to the pharmacy down the street. Things weren’t…adding up…"

"How long?"

She shrugged her shoulders as her eyes shone with amusement. "I suppose that’s for Dr. Herrero to tell us…"

"Ma-ma! Da-da! MINE!"

"I better go see what he’s gotten into that he thinks is his…don’t be too long, okay?"

She left him staring after her, his voice unable to work at the moment. His smile widened as he listened to his wife and son in the other room.

"No, Mikey…that’s Daddy’s…"

"Mine!"

"Michael…give it to Mommy…"

"No…"

A shrill giggle resonated through the house as Grissom swallowed and shook his head gently. Taking a deep breath, he exited the safety of the bathroom and made his way down the hall to his family…a family that would, in a few months, be one person larger.

~ End

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