LA To Las Vegas

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Kate came back to her motel room, the place she'd hardly call a home after having to give up her apartment. She plopped herself in a worn down chair and put her feet up on the table. The clock on the wall in front of her told her it was almost one in the morning. Somehow her Saturday night had taken her all the way to Sunday morning. She was completely screwed. To be fair, she knew it would catch up with her eventually. All of it. She sighed deeply as she pressed her fingers to her temples. She felt a wicked headache coming on.

Where she'd go from here, she hadn't a clue. She'd made several bad choices during her time here in California. Too many women, not enough sleep, and one case that she was far too desperate to solve. That was the one that had really bit her in the ass. She'd have to pack, which was a joke because what could she possibly want to take from this place? Her plants, pressed flowers and books were the only things of any importance to her.

Tomorrow there would be no trace of her ever having been here. She'd do a deep clean before she left, floor to ceiling, and put this chapter of her life behind her. But she couldn't focus on any of that now. Kate closed her eyes, craving the blissful ignorance of a sleeping mind and that's when her phone rang.

Kate groaned and fumbled for her cell on the table before reluctantly opening her eyes and taking her feet off the table to reach it. "What now," she wondered aloud.

"Yeah," she answered, leaning back and closing her eyes again, far too annoyed to be any more polite than that.

"Nice to hear from you too. How's California treating you?"

Kate's eyes shot back open, and she sat straight up at the realization of who that voice belonged to. She almost couldn't believe it. "Gil, is that you," she asked, suddenly perking up, her budding headache all but forgotten for the moment. "I didn't recognize your number. California has run me ragged. I think I've overstayed my welcome."

"I heard," Gil said on the other end of the line.

"Oh, so this isn't a courtesy call," Kate teased. "You have an agenda. Alright, come out with it. How can I help the incomparable Gil Grissom?"

"That depends, do you want a job," he offered.

Kate was struck dumb for a moment. "A job," she asked, as if she had somehow managed to hear him wrong.

"I know what happened out there with the—"

"Anderson case," Kate finished for him. She heard those damn words in her sleep now. "Right. And you're what? My knight in shining lab coat?" If she were being honest, she'd almost had enough of the job. Crime scenes, murders, maybe that wasn't her thing after all. Then again, she couldn't see herself doing anything else. What would she be, a florist?

"Yes," she found herself saying automatically. "If you're serious, I'll take the job."

"See you Monday then," Grissom said, and Kate could almost see the smirk on his face. Despite herself, she was smiling too.

Kate hung up, feeling the headache again as it lingered towards the back of her head, threatening to hit her full force when she least expected it. She had to sleep. Maybe just four hours, then she'd pack, clean and get the hell out of California.

Her alarm clock jarred her awake, now at five. She must have been out the second her head hit the pillow because she didn't even remember setting the alarm. Her headache now a distant memory, Kate rose, stretched, her off white tank riding up as she raised her arms. She shook off the remaining sleepiness that fogged her head and got to work. She hung and placed her plants in the bed of her truck, carefully piled her books of pressed flowers and leaves in her backseat, and after putting aside a pair of jeans and navy blue tank, she folded the rest of her clothes in one big heap and put them in the back as well. Now to clean.

Being a CSI made her an expert in deep cleaning. Though it wasn't really a CSI's job to clean the scene, it's where she got her start into the field. She'd had a part time job at sixteen, and then on through the end of college, cleaning up crime scenes, so by the ripe old age of twenty eight, she knew what she was doing.

The place was spotless by the time she finished, though it took her much longer than she'd wanted. She'd burn what she no longer needed when she got around to it, starting with the dart pierced photo of her ex, Gretchen. She didn't want to think about that woman ever again if she could help it. She couldn't blame her for everything that had gone wrong in LA, but Kate always had the sneaking suspicion that Gretchen had been the start of it.

Maybe she'd spark her lighter now and get rid of all the bad karma that even a picture of her seemed to carry. Going outside, Kate flicked open the lighter she still carried, though she'd given up the habit of smoking years ago. It had really only ever been a phase for her, but the flame calmed her to look at every now and again, so she'd kept it. As the photo took on the flame, Kate watched the picture curl in on itself, taking the image of Gretchen's dark brown hair and steely grey eyes and turning it into nothing more than ash. She dropped it when the flame came too close to her fingertips, bidding it good riddance.

The trip to Vegas lasted her until a little after her usual lunch time, so with her stomach growling, she called up Gil to meet him for a bite, and, if he was agreeable, a favor. Frank's Diner, he had told her. He'd meet her there in twenty minutes.

Kate had remembered the place from the last time she'd been in Vegas for a convention. She and Gil had ducked out of the convention a bit early, both already having done the presentations they'd came to give, and Frank's was where they'd gone. It took a couple of tries to remember where it was located, but she didn't get too lost. Only a couple of minutes late. She walked inside to find Gil already at a table, waiting for her. She walked over and slid into the booth across from him.

"Almost thought you were going to stand me up," he teased her.

"Never. Just because you stood me up three years ago, doesn't mean I'm out looking for payback. I don't hold grudges, Gil." Kate paused for a beat "Not for that long anyway," she added with a smirk.

They laughed and talked, catching up on the highlights of the past three years. Speaking on the phone twice a year really only covered the basics. Then as their plates emptied, Kate realized that time was closing in on her if she was going to ask for that favor.

"The reason I wanted to have lunch, besides to catch up, of course, is that I sort of need a favor." Gil smiled like he'd been expecting as much. "Is there any way you'd allow me to stay at your place," Kate asked, eyes pleading. She hadn't had the time to make living arrangements, surely he'd know that. She was resourceful though, she'd find something soon enough, but in the meantime, she preferred not to be homeless. "Promise not to overstay my welcome. I'll be out in a month, tops. You won't even know I'm there."

Gil gave a single nod as Kate left the money and tip for their bill on the table. "So I can stay," she asked for clarification.

"You can stay. One month. That's the extent of my hospitality."

"It isn't," Kate stated. "It's the extent of time you can tolerate someone being in your domain, but nonetheless, I appreciate it. So, shall we go home?"

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⏰ Ultima actualizare: Jun 07, 2021 ⏰

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