The Ghosts of Christmas Past

He sat by the fireside nursing a beer as he did every Christmas Eve. He hadn’t bothered to buy a tree or put up any lights or decorations. He wasn’t attending any parties or celebrations and he had politely declined the offer to spend Christmas with Catherine, Warrick, and Lindsey. He would rather drown his sorrows in a beer and a good case file, than spend time pretending he was happy. Because Gil Grissom wasn’t happy. His happiness, along with his Christmas spirit, had left with Sara in a lonely yellow cab five years before. Grissom took a sip of his beer and stared into the fire, lost in the memories of the first Christmas he had ever spent with her.

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Grissom settled himself into the chair behind his desk and grimaced at the mountain of paperwork piled there. He sighed and pulled the first sheet toward him, intent on getting some work done. Most of the CSI’s had the day off, it was Christmas after all, and he had volunteered to come in and hold down graveyard shift. He knew that most of his team had family that they could spend the day with and he did not intend to pull them away from that when he knew how precious little time they all got to spend away from the lab. He could handle any cases that came in. There was never that many anyway. It seemed that criminals took holidays too.

He had been working for about an hour when he sensed someone standing in the doorway watching him. He glanced up and was rather surprised to find Sara Sidle standing there. He smiled and waved her in.

“Hey, Sara,” he said as she positioned herself in the chair in front of his desk. “What are you doing here? I gave you the day off.”

Sara shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t have anything to do so I thought I would come in and help you man the fort. Besides, everyone knows that Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are slow days for crime. Seems that even hardened criminals take a day off every once in a while.” She looked up and grinned at him through her eyelashes. He laughed and shook his head in amusement. She settled back in her chair and watched him do his paperwork for a while.

“Grissom?” she said hesitantly after watching him for about 10 minutes “Can I talk to you about something?”

He looked up at her curiously, sensing that something had shifted. She was looking uncharacteristically shy and he frowned slightly, wondering what had caused the change in her demeanor.

“Sure,” he said, leaning back in his chair and giving her his full attention.

She looked down for a moment, biting her lip, and then glanced at him. “I…I’ve been having problems sleeping, lately. We’ve been getting a lot of cases that deal with abuse and sex crimes and…it’s starting to get to me. It’s Kay Shelton all over again. Every time I close my eyes, I can hear the screams of all the abused women and children we’ve been seeing lately and…I can’t stand it anymore. It’s driving me insane. How can I do my job, when I can’t get those screams out of my head?”

Grissom was shocked to see tears in her eyes. He had a sudden, crazy impulse to circle the desk and take her into his arms, but he managed to resist it. “I…I don’t know what to say, Sara. I had no idea you were having this kind of trouble. Have you considered talking to a PEAP councilor?”

Sara nodded and wiped her eyes defiantly, anger clouding her features. “Yes,” she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “I don’t want some councilor prying into my life, Grissom. That’s why I came to you.”

“I’m sorry, Sara,” he said softly.

Her expression softened. “So am I,” she murmured. “Look…forget I said anything. It’s no big deal.” Sara rose from the chair and walked to the door. She looked back at him a sad smile on her face. “Merry Christmas, Grissom,” she said softly and walked out the door.

Grissom stared at the spot where she had disappeared for a long time, trying to figure out where the conversation had gone wrong. Shaking his head he went back to the pile of papers on his desk and tried to focus on what he was doing, but, try as he might, he couldn’t bring his mind to focus on the paperwork. He looked absently around his office and spotted his favorite Entomology textbook sitting on a shelf. He crossed his office and took the book off the shelf and sat down to read, but even bugs could not take his mind off Sara. Rifling idly through the book, he stopped on Danaus plexippus, the monarch butterfly. He stared at the picture of the beautiful insect and then, suddenly, he knew what he could do to cheer Sara up.

Grissom sat down, wrote a small note on an index car, and then stuck the card inside the book. Satisfied with his work he set off to find Sara. It took him a while, but he finally tracked her down in the trace lab, going over some results from a case she had been working before the holidays. He watched her work for a minute, smiling at the level of concentration she was giving the sheet of paper in front of her, and then cleared his throat to make his presence known.

“Hey,” he said. “Look…I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

She smiled, not quite meeting his eyes. “It’s ok,” she said with a shrug. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I forgive you.”

Grissom smiled and looked down. “I uh, wanted to give you this,” he said holding the book out to her. “I thought it might give you something else to think about when you have trouble sleeping.”

Her eyes widened as she accepted the gift, her fingers brushing his ever so slightly as the book changed hands. She pulled the book to her and ran her hand lightly over the cover, smiling at the picture of the ladybug on the front of it. She admired the gift for a moment, but suddenly she frowned and looked back up at him. His stomach plummeted.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, perplexed. “Do you not like it?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not that. I love it. Really, I do.”

“What’s wrong then?”

“Are you…are you sure you want to give this to me? I thought it was your favorite entomology book.”

He nearly laughed with relief. “It is my favorite,” he said, smiling again. “But…I think you have more use for it right now than I do. That book got me through many a sleepless night when I was in college. Now, I hope it will do the same for you.”

Sara smiled at him and he felt as though he had waited his entire life just to see that one smile. He found himself staring deep into her eyes and, for the first time in living memory, he didn’t look away. He didn’t know how long they stood there like that, but she eventually broke the moment and he pulled himself back to earth, feeling slightly punch drunk. He looked down, suddenly embarrassed.

“Well uh, I better get back to my office,” he said awkwardly, moving towards the door. Sara nodded and turned back to the lab report she had been working on before he came in. Grissom stopped at the door and looked back at her. She was humming a Christmas carol to herself.

“Merry Christmas, Sara,” he whispered. As he walked away, he saw her smile.

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Grissom took another drink of beer and stroked his beard absently. He hadn’t really shaved since Sara left. He had only ever done it because Sara hated the beard and hated the feel of it when he kissed her. He had shaved it for her. Without her, there was no point.

Sighing wearily, Grissom pulled a case file towards him and started reviewing the evidence again. The case had been solved and was about to go to trial. Grissom was going to testify against a man who had beaten his daughter to death. He went over the case file, anger building in the pit of his stomach as he saw the images of the abused little girl. She was only nine years old, dark haired and pale underneath the bruises and the blood. She looked a lot like he thought Sara would have at that age, bruises and all. He took another drink from his can and pushed the case file away. Tonight was not the night to deal with this. He turned his gaze back to the fire, thinking of Sara. He remembered the night he had gone to her apartment the first time. Though it was not Christmas, it was only a few weeks until.

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Sara smiled as she opened the door. She was holding a beer bottle, but he didn’t think she was drunk yet. He was grateful for that because he had come there to talk to her, to confront her, about her behavior towards Catherine and Ecklie. He waited for her to speak.

“Well,” she said, sighing. “If you’re here it can’t be good.”

“Can I come in?”

She considered him for a second and then stepped out of his way.

He looked around as he crossed the threshold. Her apartment was clean and tastefully decorated. He suspected this was because she spent so little time at home. As he came in she asked, “Wanna ask me if I’m drunk?”

He gave the bottle in her a hand a distasteful look, but continued into the apartment. “We both know that’s not your problem,” he said turning to face her. “I spoke to Catherine.”

Sara rolled her eyes slightly and came to stand in front of him. “Ecklie?”

Grissom nodded once. “He wants me to fire you.”

“I figured,” Sara said, sighing heavily. She looked down for a minute and then back up at him. “Can I get you anything?”

“Sure,” he said. “An explanation.”

Sara looked away, shaking her head. “I…lost my temper.” She moved away across the room.

“That seems to be happening quite a bit,” he said, watching her walk. “Do you know why?”

Sara turned around to face him. “What difference does it make?” she asked harshly. “I’m still fired.”

He looked down, trying to find the right words. “It makes a difference to me,” he said softly, looking up and meeting her eyes. She’s beautiful, he thought suddenly. Even when she angry and confused.

Sara looked down and then sighed slightly. “I have a problem with authority,” she began. “I choose men who are emotionally unavailable.” She gestured towards Grissom. Her words cut through him like a knife. “I’m self destructive…all of the above.” She looked up at him, a challenge in her eyes.

“Have you ever gone a week without a rationalization?” he asked her, sounding a bit harsher than he had intended. He could still feel the sting of her comment towards him.

She looked away,then fixed him with a piercing glare.

“It’s from ‘The Big Chill’,” he said, his voice softening. “One of the characters explaining a basic fact of life. That, uh, rationalizations are more important to us than…sex even.” She had sat down while he was speaking and he looked down at her, trying not to smile. She looked away.

“I am not rationalizing anything,” she said defensively. “I crossed the line with Catherine and I was insubordinate to Ecklie.” She looked up at him, defiantly.

Grissom nodded again. “Why?” he asked, watching her carefully.

Sara looked away again. “Leave it alone,” she said, shaking her head.

Grissom raised an eyebrow. “No, Sara.”

She looked up at him, anger in her eyes. “What do you want from me?”

“I wanna know why you’re so angry,” he said softly.

She looked at him for a moment and then stood up. “Fine,” she said, sighing. “Fine. I’ll tell you. You may have to let me go after this, but whatever. I’m past caring.”

Sara walked over to a chair and sat down, drawing her knees up to her chin. Grissom followed her and positioned himself on the couch. He leaned forward and watched as she sat there, letting her take her time. He sensed that what she was about to tell him was not going to be easy to discuss or hear. Her face clouded as she sat there and he had the sudden desire to reach out and place a comforting hand on her arm. Instead, he waited.

“My…my mother killed my father,” she said. Grissom felt shock ripple through him, but he didn’t speak. “I was nine years old and…I saw it happen. She stabbed him in my room. I was hiding in the closet because I knew that they had been fighting again. They were always fighting.” She paused and took a shaky breath.

“It’s funny,” she began again, not looking at Grissom, her voice thick. “The things that you remember and the things that you don’t. You know?” She paused for a second. “There was a smell of iron in the air. Cast off on the bed and wall. There was this young cop puking his guts. I don’t remember the woman who took me to foster care,” she added, shaking her head and looking at Grissom. She looked away again. “I can’t remember her name. Which is strange, you know, ‘cause I couldn’t let go of her hand.”Sara paused again.

Grissom shook his head and tried to think of something to say. Shock was still rippling through him and he started to speak twice before something finally came out. “Well,” he said softly. “The mind has its filters.”

Sara ignored him. “I do remember the looks,” she said, nodding. “I became the girl whose father was stabbed to death.” She looked at Grissom. He watched her, trying to comprehend how she must have felt.

“Do you think there’s a murder gene?” she asked suddenly. There was something like fear in her eyes. Grissom considered his answer carefully.

“I don’t believe that genes are a predictor of violent behavior,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Sara shook her head. “You wouldn’t know that in my house,” she said thickly. Tears were glittering in her eyes. Grissom had the urge to comfort her again. “The fights, the yelling, the trips to the hospital…I thought it was the way everybody lived.” Sara’s voice cracked and Grissom could feel his heart breaking for her.

“When my mother killed my father,” she said, her lips trembling. “I found out that it wasn’t.”

Grissom watched Sara fight back tears. She sniffed and put her hand on her forehead, fighting against the emotions, but it was too much. He watched as she broke down and began to cry. His heart broke again and he wished that he could do something, anything to ease her pain. He reached out and took her hand. She clung to his hand as though it was her only lifeline. He couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain.

“Sara, I…” Grissom looked at her, at a loss for words. She was crying harder now and he decided, suddenly, that he was done playing games where Sara was concerned.

“Come here, Sara,” he said gently. He tugged on her hand and pulled her next to him on the couch and then put his arms around her. She buried her face into his shoulder and continued to cry. He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, trying to soothe her, all the while thinking that something had never felt so natural or so right. She fit in his arms perfectly.

After a while, she managed to get control of her tears. She took her face out of his jacket and looked up at him with her red puffy eyes. He had never seen such a beautiful woman in all his life, but he was shocked when she suddenly pulled away from him.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said, jumping off the couch as though it had burned her. “I…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Grissom shook his head, trying to clear it. “Sara, it’s…”

“No, Grissom,” she said, standing next to her coffee table. She ran a hand through her hair. “I…we…no. This can’t happen. I can’t risk this. You’ve…you’ve hurt me too many times.” Tears began falling down her face again. “I can’t stand another disappointment,” she whispered brokenly

Grissom felt like he’d been run over by a semi. “Sara, I…” He didn’t know what to say to her. He had finally realized something. He loved Sara. He had loved her for longer than he could remember. He had hurt her, yes, but it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He had been trying to protect her. He rationalized that he was too old for her, that he had too many character flaws, that he was too set in his ways. But standing there, seeing the hurt and the disappointment written on her face, he realized that he had been wrong. Yes, he was older than her and, yes, he was flawed, but…it didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was Sara. She was his youth and the counterbalance to his flaws. She would show him new and exciting things that he had never known before. She was his ticket to happiness, to life…to love. And suddenly, Grissom knew what he had to do.

He crossed the room in three long strides and came to a stop directly in front of Sara. He took her face and neck in his hands, forcing her to look at him

“Have you ever gone a day without a rationalization?” he asked her.

A hurt expression fluttered across Sara’s face. “Let me go, Grissom,” she said, trying to push his hands away.

He ignored her words and her actions. “I haven’t,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “But you know…” He moved his face closer to hers and could see the tears clinging to her eyelashes. “I think that today…” He brushed her tears away with his thumb. She stopped struggling to break his hold. “Is an excellent day…” Their faces were only inches apart. He could feel Sara’s pulse quickening under his fingers. “To stop making them.” He stopped moving and stared deep into her eyes. “I love you, Sara,” he whispered.

She smiled up at him and then snaked her arms around his neck. “You always have,” she said and pulled his lips to hers.

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Grissom rubbed his eyes wearily. That had been nearly eight years ago. It hadn’t been long after that that Sara moved in with him. His biggest fear had been that they would grow tired of one another, since they also worked togther, but that never happened. They were so well matched that they could spend practically every hour of every day together and never once consider doing otherwise. Grissom loved the small feminine touches she added to his house and his life. He started eating healthier, he took better care of himself, and he smiled more. Sara even improved the quality of his work. He was never happier in his entire life and he sensed that Sara, too, was happier than she had ever been.

Then came a string of brutal cases . A man started killing young women all over Las Vegas. The women were abused, raped, and then killed at the hands of the man the press dubbed “The Holiday Hellraiser”. He killed one woman a week, for 12 weeks leading up to Christmas. They finally caught up with the guy a week before Christmas and Grissom had the satisfaction of the putting the psycho away for life. Grissom, however, noticed that in the week after, Sara’s happiness was only a shadow of what it had been before. He tried cheering her up in every way he could think of. Nothing seemed to work. And then, he had a brilliant idea.

Grissom smiled at the memory of that Christmas day, six years before.

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Grissom smiled as he walked into the townhouse carrying a bundled up blanket.

“Sara?” he yelled down the hallway. “Sara? I have something for you.” She yelled that she’d be there in a minute. He smiled and placed the heavy bundle on the couch and waited for her to join him in the living room. It had been a long Christmas Eve night for him at the lab and he couldn’t wait to show Sara what he had picked up on his way home from work. He smiled as the bundle moved slightly. Sara walked into the room just at that moment.

She stopped and fixed her gaze on the bundle. Her eyes flicked back and forth between Grissom’s smile and the trembling blanket and she frowned.

“What is that?” she asked him cautiously.

He smiled and folded his arms across his chest. “You’ll just have to open it and find out.”

Her eyes were dark with misgiving as she cautiously approached the couch, giving the shivering blanket a wide birth.

“It better not be some kind of insect or reptile,” she said hotly, never taking her eyes off the bundle.

Grissom laughed. “Come on, Sara,” he said, feigning hurt. “You know me better than that.”

Sara smiled, but didn’t say anything. There was still doubt in her eyes. Grissom got up and pulled her into his arms. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and looked down into her eyes.

“You trust me?” he whispered.

She smiled and gave him a tender kiss. “Intimately,” she said, winking at him. He laughed again and led her the rest of the way to the couch. She studied the bundle of blankets for a moment and then prodded it sharply. The package whimpered. Sara couldn’t contain her smiles now. Grissom watched her, pleased that his gift was making her so happy.

“Oh no,” she said gleefully. “Don’t tell me you got us a…” She unwrapped the blankets and yelled happily when a puppy burst out of them and starting yapping at her loudly. She picked the dog up and held him close to her face, where the puppy wasted no time in covering her face with slobbery kisses. Sara giggled like a little girl, wiped her face off with her sleeve, and sat down with the puppy in her lap. The puppy promptly curled up and laid his little head down on her leg and went to sleep. Grissom moved over and put his arm around Sara. She was still smiling.

“Thank you,” she said happily. “Hank’s gorgeous.”

Grissom frowned. “You’re welcome, honey, but why Hank? He looks more like a Bruno to me.”

Sara smiled mischievously. “I have a feeling this little guy is going to be under my feet all the time, just like Hank was. It seemed like a good name for him.”

Grissom laughed appreciatively. “Hank it is then,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Sara.”

Sara turned and gave him a long, sensuous kiss. He was breathless when she finally pulled away. “Merry Christimas,” she whispered, setting Hank down on the couch and grabbing Grissom’s hand. “Let’s make it even merrier.” She pulled him toward their bedroom. “Love me,” she said. And he did.

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Grissom took another long drink from his beer. That was the last Christmas they had spent together before Sara walked out on him. A few months after he had given her Hank, she had been kidnapped by Natalie and left for dead. He had been forced to reveal their relationship to the team over the course of their rescue efforts and, as a result, Sara had been forced to move to swing shift when she returned to the lab. He knew that something with her wasn’t quite right after that, but he was under a lot of stress at work and they seemed to see less and less of each other. He still loved her and he knew that she loved him, as she proved every time they got a moment alone together, but something still wasn’t right. He surprised her with a proposal, hoping that their upcoming marriage would give her other things to focus on and bring her out of her slump, but his plan failed and she ran. He understood why she had left, but it didn’t make the pain any more bearable.

Grissom only talked to Sara three times after she left Las Vegas. The first time was the same night she left. He called her and begged her to come home, but she refused. She also refused to tell him exactly where she was. He was disappointed, but he tried to be understanding for her sake.

The second time he talked to her, she told him that she was in an airport in San Francisco and that she was going to go visit her mother. He wished her luck and told her to call him if she needed him. She promised that she would.

The last time he had talked to her had been nearly four months after that. She said that she was still in California and that she was doing better, but she wasn’t ready to come home yet. When he asked where she was, she didn’t answer. Instead, she told him that she wouldn’t be able to call him for a while and that she was truly sorry. The conversation had ended with her telling him she loved him. He hadn’t even had the chance to tell her the same when the line went dead. It was then that he sunk into a deep seated depression that he had never managed to climb out of. He hadn’t heard from her in nearly five years.

Grissom drained the rest of his beer and sighed. It looked like it was going to be another sleepless night and he settled himself down on the couch and flipped on the TV. Grissom did not usually watch TV, but it gave him something to do when he couldn’t sleep, so he found himself seated in front of the glowing box with Hank and a beer almost every night since Sara’s last phone call.

Grissom watched TV for three hours, absently stroking Hank’s head. He had just started to nod off when a loud knock on his door, jerked out of his sleep. He rubbed his eyes and stood, swaying slightly and trudged to the door. He opened the door, intending to tell the person on the other side to go away, but the words died on his lips. His heart nearly stopped beating.

Sara hadn’t changed much in the five years since he had last seen her. Her dark, brown hair still fell elegantly to her shoulders, framing her beautiful face and her brown eyes still radiated intelligence and love out at him. He reached up a hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, wondering if she was really standing there in front of him. She caught his hand and pulled him close to her. He buried his head in her hair and breathed in deeply, smelling her shampoo. It drove him crazy, just as it always had and he pulled her closer, wanting to feel her body near his. She laughed when she realized what he was doing and slapped his arm playfully. He pulled back a little and took in her features, drinking in the sight of her like an addict deprived of his drugs. She smiled as he watched her and he noticed that it was not quite the same smile she had had before. There was something missing. He smiled too when he realized what it was. There was no shadow to her happiness. There was no underlying sense of pain. It was just pure happiness. That, to him, was worth every second of pain he had endured since she left and he felt a tear slip down his cheek.

“It’s been a long time,” she said, reaching up and wiping the tear from his cheek. He trapped her hand, loving the feel of her skin against his. He still did not trust himself to speak. She smiled again.

“I never meant to hurt you, Gil,” she said. “I had to leave. I never would have made it if I hadn’t.”

He nodded, finally finding his voice. “I know, Sara,” he said softly. “I never blamed you. I just watched and waited, knowing that you would come home when you were ready. I’ve never stopped loving you Sara. I never will.”

Now it was his turn to wipe a tear from her cheek. She pulled him to her again and he kissed her forehead, but then just stood there, his arms around her. There would be time to catch up on lost kisses later. Right now, he just wanted to hold her. They stood there on the stoop for a long time, neither wanting to break the moment. Eventually, though, Sara sighed and pulled away from him. He looked down at her and she bit her lip, suddenly looking nervous.

“There’s something I have to show you,” she said. “And it can’t wait.”

She turned abruptly and headed towards her car, which he noticed was still running, beckoning at him to follow her. He slipped on a pair of sandals that were sitting near the door and followed her down the walk to the curb. She put her hand on the latch for the back door of her car, but stopped and turned to him before pulling on it.

“Before I open this door,” she said, biting her lip again. “I just want to say that I’m sorry I never told you…” She tugged on the handle and slowly started pulling the door open. “But it would have made my departure that much harder and…” His eyes widened as she moved aside. “I didn’t want you to worry any more than you had to.” His mouth was hanging open as he finally saw what was in the backseat of the car. Sara smiled and reached into the car, pulling the occupant out and setting them down in front of him. “Gil Grissom, meet Jenna Marie Grissom.”

Grissom fell down to his knees in front of the little girl who was looking up at him inquisitively. She was about four years old and had bright, clear blue eyes that were the exact same color as his. The rest of her features, however, were all Sara, right down to the gap in her front teeth. He felt tears running down his cheeks as he tucked a lock of Jenna’s dark hair behind her ear. Jenna smiled up at him and used her tiny fingers to wipe a tear off his cheek. He took the child’s hand in his and then pulled her to him. He never thought he would ever have a child of his own and the joy of finding that he did was indescribable. He already loved her with all of his heart.

As he held Jenna close to him he looked up at Sara. She was smiling and crying, just like he was and he beckoned her over. She bent down next to him and Jenna and wrapped her arms around both of them.

It had been nearly five years since Sara left, but, as he knelt there holding Sara and Jenna on that Christmas Day, it was as if those five years had never happened. Grissom had finally gotten his ultimate Christmas wish. He had a family and he was, for the first time in his life, truly happy.


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