Author: TriplePirouette PM
Sara meets Grissom's dog for the first time, and finds out why on Earth his name is Hank.Rated: Fiction K - English - Romance - Gil G. & Sara S. - Words: 1,883 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 11 - Follows: 1 - Published: 03-24-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4153514
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: Appellation Implications
By: Triple Pirouette
Category: Foof, post-ep
Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor and having fun... take pity...
Distribution: my site, , everyone else please ask first.
Summary: Sara meets Grissom's dog for the first time, and finds out why on Earth his name is Hank.
Author's notes: Just my hand at why Grissom would end up with a dog named Hank… Set sometime around season 5/6 at the cannon origin of the GS 'ship. Also, it has not been beta read. Also, though I do love animals I'm not all that familiar with the actual process of "rescuing" a dog, so please excuse any inaccuracies. It's just a little something that's been sitting on my hard drive- I've been writing a lot of Innocence and Beauty lately, so I wanted to remind everyone who I am…
Feedback please at: I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores...
"His name is Hank?"
Gil looked across at Sara from the driver's seat of his car, unable to completely read her expression. He was pretty sure that she was surprised and maybe even a little confused. "Yes." He turned off the car and pulled the keys out of the ignition. The car sat in front of Grissom's home, quietness pervading the air.
"Ok then." In the second that it took Grissom to watch Sara step out of the car, he wondered if the situation could possibly get any more uncomfortable. Not only was it the first time he was taking Sara to his house in a romantic setting, but she was going to meet his dog who, while being a wonderful animal, had an unfortunate name. He slowly extracted himself from the car, hoping for some kind of divine intervention: dread of her reaction, of her actions, only built up in him as he slowly followed her up the steps then led them to the door. This new facet of their relationship, this nebulous area beyond friendship, was so new and precarious that he found himself worried about every little thing, every word, every moment…
With a sigh and a smile, Grissom unlocked the door and pushed his way through. A short bark escaped the back room followed by the sounds of trotting paws before a large boxer made his way to the door, insinuating himself between Gil and Sara, and indulging in a brisk scratch behind the ears before sniffing around Sara's feet.
Sara smiled gently, unable to be mad at the gentle creature with the big eyes. "Sara, this is Hank." Gil said, bending down to give his dog a more proper hello.
Sara held her hand out and waited as Hank sniffed and then nudged it with his nose. His tail wagged back and forth happily as he gave her a sloppy lick then turned and trotted away. She watched him retreat from the room and looked down at Grissom with a smile. "He's sweet."
Gil pushed up off the floor and smiled back at her, standing a bit closer than they normally did. "Yeah, he's great."
"You said he's a rescue?" She stepped farther into the room, trying to look comfortable as she examined her surroundings: her first glimpse of his home in years.
"You could say that. Mrs. Thomas a few houses down has a couple of dogs and was talked into fostering him by a friend. Her ten year old son fell in love with Hank, but they didn't have enough room to keep another one, especially as big as Hank. A few months before, her terrier had gotten out and hid in my garage. She remembered that I'd said then how much I loved animals, but that I wasn't home enough to warrant having a pet, beyond the insects, that is." Grissom gently took Sara's hand and led her to the couch where they both sat as he continued and she listened in rapt attention. "She called and asked me to come meet the dog; said she had an idea. They didn't have the room or money to keep him, and I didn't have the time, but her son, Mark, swore up and down that he would take the dog on as his own responsibility. We worked it out that I'd adopt him, and Mark would do the lion's share of taking care of him when I was away or at work: walking him, bathing him, playing with him." Grissom shrugged. "It's actually worked out very well: Mark has something constructive to spend his time on and I don't have to come home to an empty house anymore. Hank gets the best end of the deal, though."
"That is possibly the sweetest story I've heard in a long time." Sara smiled and laughed a bit as the dog trotted back into the room, laying a slobbery baseball in her lap before sitting at her feet. She picked it up gingerly, examining the ball with a raised eyebrow.
"It would be bad for his teeth, except that he doesn't chew on it, just carries it around and I don't have the heart to take it from him. He stole it from Mark's room as a puppy and hasn't lost track of it since. He must like you."
Sara handed the ball back to the boxer, who gently took it in his mouth and nuzzled her hand before retreating to his bed in the corner of the room, dropping the ball and laying his head on his folded hands. They both watched the dog, who in turn watched them in the silence.
Grissom decided in that moment that a preemptive strike would be best, to get the elephant in the room out even if he was tip toeing around the actual subject. "That's how he got his name, you know."
"The baseball?" She looked at his face and for a moment tension wavered between them. He knew about Hank the man, the ex-boyfriend, and she knew he knew. She'd been hoping to avoid this altogether, but maybe meeting it head on would be better. After all, she didn't want to have to break up with the man she'd been fantasizing about in secret for years just because his dog made her think of an ex-boyfriend.
"I asked Mark to help me name him. Since he'd been playing with the ball since the day he got there Mark wanted to name him Pitcher or Catcher. I suggested he think on it a little more; maybe pick a real baseball player's name."
"Hank Aaron." Sara said with a smile and more than a little relief.
Grissom laughed nervously. "Yes and no. Mark wanted to name him after Babe Ruth. I couldn't see naming him Babe under any circumstances…" He trailed off letting her imagine all of the implications of the name. "Babe was simply not a fitting name for him. After talking Mark out of Babe, much to the delight of his mother, he asked me who my favorite player was, and after hearing my answer he declared the dog to be Hank."
"And who can say no to that."
"I couldn't. At least, I couldn't say no with any coherent argument that would make sense to Mark." Grissom finally turned to look at her, his eyes begging for her to read the deeper meaning in his words. It would have been insanity for him to try to explain to a child that he couldn't name his joint custody dog after one of the best baseball players in history because it was coincidentally the name of a dubious ex-boyfriend of the woman for whom he secretly longed. "And so he became Hank, though he has yet to make an attempt at a home run with that ball."
"Well, he'll need a baseball bat for that to happen." Sara smiled, her words intended to tell him that she understood, and that she'd try to over look the oddity of it all. Grissom, however, was still serious.
"I know that it's odd, especially the timing of it all." He reached out and took her hand, his thumb gently stroking over the curve of her wrist.
"And yet, it's innocent." She squeezed his hand back. "It'll be weird at first, that's for sure, especially if this," she gestured between them with her free hand, "turns out the way I think we both want it to. But I think I can move past it." She smiled, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "It'll help if I imagine the alternative: you calling a hulking boxer Babe."
Grissom had the grace to laugh. "I think that no matter what, I dodged a bullet with that one."
Their smiles faded as the tension morphed from dissipating anxiety to gentle, then insistent, longing. They closed the distance between them slowly, the meshing of their lips still so new and novel that they both endeavored to savor and record every second of the kiss. Their lips parted for just a second to catch a breath before coming together again, but they jumped apart when a loud squeak broke the silence surrounding them.
Sitting in front of the couch was Hank, a rubber baseball bat toy in his mouth. He bit down and it dutifully repeated its squeak before he set it in Sara's lap, the rhythm of Hank's tail on the floor broadcasting to all that he was proud of the fact that he'd retrieved the toy she'd unknowingly asked for.
Sara picked up the toy and examined it with a smirk. "You think if I casually mention a baseball diamond he'll come back with jewelry?"
Grissom smiled and watched out of the corner of his eye as Hank cocked his head questioningly. "You could try, but with there being no diamonds around here he'd have to steal some. Then we'd have to report him." Grissom smiled, and then wrinkled his brow at Sara's serious expression. "What?"
"Oh, I'm just imagining Catherine lifting paw prints from a jewelry counter. Very interesting mental image..." Sara shrugged, then smiled as Grissom shifted closer, taking the toy out of her hands.
"You know, there was something I always wanted to say to Pedigrew..." Sara tensed, but tried to stay calm as she watched Grissom turn the toy over in his hands. "Get out of here!" He playfully ordered Hank as he tossed the toy in the general direction of his bed. Hank dutifully wagged his tail as did as he was told, collecting his bat and laying it next to his prized ball before taking a spot on his bed.
Sara smiled, gently grasping Grissom's face in her fingers and pulling it closer to her own. "I think I like Hank very much. And I think I like you even more."
Hank watched as they kissed then turned away, settling in for a nap. In his opinion they weren't using nearly enough tongue.