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Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
Sara felt her heart constrict. Her arms and hands started to tingle as adrenalin was release throughout her body.
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Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. If I did, Jorja would never have left.
A/N: The Leonard Cohen quote in this chapter is from the song “
O/U (Obviously unbeta’d).
The first thing Sara saw when she woke up was the lower part of Gil Grissom’s face. He was lying on his back, mouth slightly open… still fast asleep. Her head rested on his upper arm and her right arm and leg were thrown across his body. She touched his face softly. She didn’t want to wake him, but she just couldn’t resist trailing her finger down his face, ending up in the cleft of his chin. She wanted to stay like this forever.
Sadly, nature called so she carefully extracted herself and got off the bed. Grissom grunted and rolled onto his side, but did not wake up.
She made her way to the bathroom, careful not to trip over their shoes and clothes on the floor. She felt great - her body hurt in all the right places. She smirked, entomology was certainly not the only thing Gil Grissom was good at!
After obliging her bladder, she stretched her naked body all the way from her toes to her fingertips and took a quick look in the mirror.
Ho-ly Shit!
She looked unbelievably awful. Her mascara was caked around her eyes; beard burn covered her neck, chest and breasts; her lips were dry and cracked; she had two large hickeys on her neck and a rather alarming bite mark on her shoulder. And total bed head.
Shit again!
It was a good thing Grissom didn’t see THIS first thing in the morning (or afternoon). And that sticky feeling that felt so sexy in her post-coital haze? Now just felt well, sticky. And disgusting.
Fuck.
She really wanted to go back to bed and snuggle with her new lover, but she had the distinct feeling that if she wanted to keep him as her lover (and she did), she should probably get herself cleaned up.
Damn-it! She closed the bathroom door and stepped into the shower.
Grissom still hasn’t woken when Sara walked out of the bathroom wearing only panties, drying her hair with a towel. She checked the alarm, 4:57 pm, and then looked at his sleeping form on the bed. She smirked and rummaged through a small wooden box on the dresser, finding a belly ring and a barbell for her nipple, shaking her head slightly. She got the piercings a long time ago when she still lived in
Grissom woke up slowly. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the room with a frown. Something was different.
This was not his bedroom.
Oh.
Sara… Shit.
He looked at the bed next to him. It was empty. Why wasn’t she still in bed with him? Did she regret what happened? Oh god, did she not enjoy it? He thought back to that morning. No, everything was fine. He grinned, actually it was unbelievable. She seemed happy afterwards.
He got out of bed, looked around and bent over to retrieve his boxers. His body protested, loudly. The muscles in his back and thighs screamed in outrage. Shit, I’m too old for this.
‘I ache in the places where I used to play – Leonard Cohen.’ Sometimes he really wished he didn’t know an appropriate quote for every situation. He grunted and grimaced as he pulled on his boxers and wandered down the hall looking for his new lover.
She was standing with her back to him, apparently watching the coffeemaker make coffee.
OK Gil. Be nice.
This is Sara, not some random screw.
Be nice to her.
And for god’s sake don’t say anything stupid!
He took a deep breath, walked up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist, “Hey.” (That was nice, right?)
His voice was still husky from sleep. She leaned into him and covered his arms with her hands, “Hey yourself.”
He kissed her neck, “Hmmm.”
The elephant rolled its eyes, huffed and stomped off into the corner. If it had arms it would have crossed them across its chest in displeasure.
Sara turned around in his arms and tried to kiss him on the mouth, but he kissed her neck (again) mumbling, “Morning breath.” Eventually he pulled himself away and looked at her with a small smile on his face. Then his eyes went to her neck, “What the hell? Did I do that?”
Sara smirked and caressed his cheek with her hand, “No, it was my other bearded lover.”
“Hmmmffff”, he huffed and inspected her neck like it was evidence in a murder investigation. He pulled on her shirt so he could take a better look at the damage. She giggled because he was peering down the front of her shirt and she wasn’t wearing a bra (again). “Hey!” She slapped his hand away.
“I’m so sorry Sara,” he said with a sheepish expression, “I guess I got a little carried away.”
She wasn’t sure whether he was apologizing for the damage to her skin or for looking down her shirt. “I’m not complaining,” she trailed her finger down his chest, stepping forward to kiss him. He looked adorable with his mess-up hair and sleepy eyes.
He stopped her again, “Morning breath, remember?”
She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care.” She leaned forward and kissed his chest instead.
He moaned, “Should I shave my beard?”
She swiped her tongue over his nipple, “Don’t you dare,” and bit down… hard.
“Ouch!” “Jesus Sara!” He pushed her away, a mock scowl on his face and rubbed his nipple vigorously.
Sara wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “I think we should get *you* a nipple ring.”
“Yea, keep dreaming Honey.”
She grinned. He was still rubbing his nipple. It was the most adorable thing she had ever seen:
Gil Grissom;
wearing only boxers;
mussed hair;
sleepy eyes;
rubbing his nipple.
Oh god, she wanted that man.
In every possible way.
“Can I use your bathroom?” He wanted to get rid of his morning breath as quickly as possible so he could stick his tongue down her throat. Or rather, let her stick her tongue down his. He smiled at that thought.
He also wanted to get out of the room before he said something wrong and screwed this up.
“Yes of course,” she smiled. “You don’t have to ask.” “Oh, there are clean towels in the hall closet and there should be a new toothbrush in the cabinet in the bathroom.”
“See, you do care about my morning breath,” he kissed her cheek and then teasingly slapped her butt.
“Hey!” She scowled and shook her head as he disappeared into the bathroom.
She was surprised how relaxed he was. She’d been worried that he would freak out when he woke up, but everything seemed fine. She gave a relieved sigh. She poured some coffee and took a sip. Or maybe this was what just-laid-Grissom was like? She smirked. Well, then she’ll just have to make sure that he got laid often. She felt the heat spread between her legs as she remembered the way he made love to her.
She stood in the kitchen sipping her coffee and contemplating her last thought. Were they making love? She knew she was, but who knew what the hell was going on in Grissom’s head? They did not declare their undying love or make any promises to each other. But she never expected that. It was Grissom after all. All she ever wanted from him was to try; to try and see whether they could be happier together than they were apart.
Was he going to try now? She hoped so. Because she knew that if he went back on what happened this morning… that would be *it*. She would resign and leave Vegas, and Grissom forever. It wasn’t a threat or ultimatum and not something she would ever tell him, but it was the truth and Sara knew that without any doubt. If he said this was a mistake, no amount of vegetation or “from Grissom’s” could make her stay.
She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. So far he has given her no indication that he thought what happened was a mistake. He’s been sweet. She took another sip of coffee. He did offer to shave his beard, so apparently he intended to continue fucking her. Well, she grinned, she wanted to continue fucking him also. She shook her head, OK Sidle, enough with all the fucking already.
But she did, she really, really did want to push him up against the closest flat surface and fuck his brains out. She shook her head again, finished her coffee and went into the bedroom to pick up their clothes and change the bed sheets.
Grissom was standing in the shower, washing his hair with Sara’s shampoo. He was going to smell like her all night.
OK Gil. You did well.
He was nice, right?
Well, except for the ass-slapping. What was he thinking?
He was surprised that he actually pulled it off. He didn’t feel as uncomfortable or nervous as he expected. Maybe it was just because he hasn’t had time to think about what happened yet? He got out of the shower and dried off. He rested his hands on the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. Was he really going to do this? Was he *really* going to try to have a relationship with Sara? He looked down at his chest and saw the faint bite mark still visible around his nipple. He inspected the rest of his body. On his back he saw several scratch marks and some bruising, apparently from Sara grabbing his back in the fervor of their encounter.
She did that to him. He felt an irrational sense of pride that in the throws of passion, Sara Sidle left marks on his body. As he did on hers.
He wanted more of that… and to feel her body shuddering beneath his again. He wanted to wake up with her. He thought about the way she looked at him afterwards. Oh god. He stared at himself in the mirror. Gil if you hurt her now, you’ll never be able to forgive yourself.
And neither will she.
The truth was the decision to have a relationship with Sara was made the moment he kissed her. He knew that. So what now? What did she expect from him? Did she expect some kind of commitment? He had no idea.
Get a grip Gil!
Just try to get through today without making a total mess of this.
One day at a time - that’s your new mantra.
And for god’s sake try to relax.
And be nice!
He found a new toothbrush and brushed his teeth vigorously. A goofy, toothpaste covered grin formed on his face. He had no idea where this was going, but right now he wanted to go out there and kiss Sara. And possibly much more. He took a deep breath, left the bathroom and went into the bedroom to put on his clothes. The bed was made and his clothes were neatly laid out on it. He pulled on his pants and shirt and joined Sara in the kitchen.
She was reading the newspaper and having another cup of coffee, “Help yourself to the coffee.” “Do you want something to eat? We could order in.”
He poured himself coffee then leaned on the counter in front of her, “I’ll skip the food if I could get a kiss.”
Sara smiled, put down the paper and put her arms around his neck, and kissed him senseless. “Hmmmm. Minty fresh.” Then she went back to reading her paper, trying not to laugh at the look on his face. His face was flushed and she was pretty sure he had a hard-on.
Grissom stared at her. He always suspected that she would be a good kisser, but jesus! He wondered whether he could come just from kissing her. Probably not, but he was pretty sure he could talk her into trying. They were scientists after all.
He cleared his throat and took a seat next to her sipping his coffee, trying to look innocent, “What time is it?”
She looked at the clock on the microwave, “Nearly six thirty.”
“Damn. I have to work tonight.”
“I know.” She looked at him over the top of the paper, “Do you have an extra set of clothes in your car?”
“No, I have to go home to change.”
“Hmmm,” she seemed to be considering his answer. Then she stood up, took his cup from his hand and put it down on the counter. She put one arm around his neck, leaned over and kissed him while putting her other hand on his crotch. Hmmm, definite hard-on. She gripped him through his pants and squeezed, “Well, then we better make this quick.”
Grissom gulped.
The elephant groaned and wished to be both deaf and blind.
Sara opened his zipper and slipped her hand inside his pants. Then she gave him a sugar sweet smile and lowered her head into his lap.
He ended up taking her against the wall, her long limbs wrapped tightly around him.
The next day Sara rubbed Bengay on his aching knees.
Then she straddled him.
Grissom didn’t worry about his knees ever again.
Sara never did to begin with.
The elephant was still traumatized and trying its hardest not to think about Grissom’s knees at all.
~ The End ~
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A/N: That’s it. Hope you enjoyed it.
BTW Bengay is equivalent to things like Deep Heat or Icy Hot.
Chapter 2
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Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. If I did, Jorja would never have left, and if she did she would be back by now.
A/N: I hope everybody will get the thing with the elephants, and specifically what Grissom’s elephant represents.
Once again, the idea of Sara with body piercings first intrigued me when I read fics by Vegawriters, specifically chapter 2 (What the Butterfly Saw) from the Into the Looking Glass series.
This is not a songfic but it was influenced by Leonard Cohen’s music. Let’s face it, his music just screams SEX. If you are not familiar with his music, I highly recommend “Take this waltz”, “Dance me to the end of time”, Waiting for the miracle”, “A thousand kisses deep”, “Famous blue raincoat”, “I’m your man” and “Tower of song.”
O/U (Obviously unbeta’d).
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On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallways where love’s never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand…”
~Leonard Cohen –Take this waltz
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Grissom knocked softly on Sara’s door. She opened the door with a wide smile and waved him inside. He followed her into the kitchen and started getting breakfast ready. They chatted comfortably about nothing in particular.
The elephants greeted each other with a silent nod; they’ve known each other for a long time and no words were necessary. The human pair sat down at the kitchen counter and ate their bagels, drank their juice and generally enjoyed each others company.
Sara was in an unusually good mood. They’ve moved to the sofa and she was smiling and gesturing wildly with her hands, explaining an outrageous (in her opinion) article she read in the newest forensic magazine. “You will not *believe* what these people are saying,” she said and laughed. And for a split second Sara Sidle forgot all about her strained relationship with Gil Grissom.
About her resolution to be just friends.
About letting go.
And about getting her heart broken…
over and over again…
for five very long years.
She put her hand on his forearm and sensually drew two small circles with her thumb before she realized what she was doing. She froze. Oh Shit. They both looked down at her hand and just like that, the air around them became charged.
Oh Shit (again).
Grissom’s eyes shifted from her hand to her eyes, and then to her mouth.
That very fuckable mouth.
His breathing suddenly increased. Her wide smile vanished as he continued to stare at her. At that moment Grissom knew two things for sure:
One - he wanted nothing in this world more than to kiss Sara Sidle;
and two - if he crossed that line now and pretended afterwards nothing happened, he would loose her forever.
So he leaned forward and kissed her. Yes, just like that.
Her lips were incredibly soft. At first she didn’t respond at all. Then she moaned and kissed him back. Her hand on his arm gripped him tightly while the other hand snaked around his neck, pulling him towards her. He immediately kissed her harder and in no time he was probing with his tongue, trying to deepen the kiss.
Two years later, as Sara was lying in a hospital bed after her ordeal in the desert, Grissom would hold her hand and admit that when she opened her mouth and their tongues touched for the first time, he became lightheaded.
They continued to kiss passionately (Sara was not at all shy about shoving her tongue in his mouth) and he pushed her back until she was lying on her back with him halfway on top of her. Both her hands were now in his hair, while his one hand was holding onto the back of the sofa to keep him from crushing her, or tumbling onto the floor. They were breathing heavily through their noses now and eventually Grissom broke the kiss. They stared at each other, practically gulping air. Sara was surprised (very) and concerned about how he was going to react to what just happened.
She knew that this was the moment of truth.
Grissom looked at her swollen lips and flushed face. He smiled and gave her one, two, three quick kisses. He could feel her smiling against his lips. He laid his head on her chest and she hugged him to her body, softly stroking his hair with her hand. They stayed like that until their breathing returned to normal. Was this really happening?
Eventually he lifted his head and smiled again. He shifted up a little and started nuzzling her neck. She turned her head to expose more skin as he slowly worked his way along her neck. When he bit down on her flesh she couldn’t stop her rather load moan; or the way her lower body pressed against him. Sara moved her hand down his back and slipped it under his shirt to touch the bare skin of his back. He shuddered and pressed his hips against her. She could clearly feel his erection pressing against her hip.
Apparently the geek mind-melt also applied to their more intimate thoughts because at this stage neither one of them doubted that they were going to end up in bed together.
Sara pushed lightly against his shoulder to make him look at her and gestured in the direction of the bedroom with her eyes. Grissom smiled and nodded. He pushed himself up off the sofa, took her hand, pulled her up and waited for her to lead the way. He was fully aware that he was grinning like an idiot.
If either of them thought that it was strange that all of this was happening in near total silence, they didn’t mention it.
Neither did the wide-eyed elephants.
Sara allowed him to pull her up. Then she looked him straight in the eyes, let go of his hand, crossed her arms in front of her body and unceremoniously pulled her shirt over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Grissom thought he was going to have a heart attack. Either that or his pants were going to explode. She smiled and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bedroom.
“Hey wait a minute!”
Sara’s heart skipped a beat. No! Please god, no. Don’t let him get scared now.
Please…
She swallowed and slowly turned around to face him.
He was still holding her hand, “What is that?” He was looking in the general direction of her stomach.
She looked down, “What?”
“That,” he reached out and touched the small piece of plastic in her navel.
“Oh, it’s … to, ah… keep the piercing open… you know. It’s small, so people can’t see it through my shirt… at work I mean.” She thought he meant why she was wearing the small clear plastic retainer in her navel instead of something more ornate.
What he meant was – what the hell! … Sara Sidle has a pierced navel?
“You pierced your navel?”
“Yes.” She smirked and put her free hand on her hip, “You have a problem with that?”
He was still touching her navel, “No.” Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he looked up at her face, “Uhmm… do you have any other piercings?”
Sara considered him for a moment. Then she slowly lifted her hand to her left nipple, “As a matter of fact, I do.” And she started to rub the nipple between her thumb and forefinger. I kid you NOT!
Grissom’s eyes flew to her breast. He slowly moved his hand from her navel to her left nipple. He pushed her hand away and proceeded to touch her nipple and the small retainer that was impaled there. How did he not notice that earlier?
He pulled on her nipple, inspecting it with the same expression he had when he just discovered a fascinating piece of evidence. Sara moaned. She was getting very aroused. And impatient.
“Come on.” She turned away from the hand on her breast and pulled him towards the bedroom.
Grissom’s mind was spinning. Piercings?
A nipple piercing no less!
But… but… her ears weren’t even pierced!
Jesus.
Focus Gil! Sara… right in front of you… without a shirt! FOCUS!
He came out of his funk and reached out with his free hand to touch her bare back, sliding his hand down her neck and moving south. When his hand reached the small of her back Sara’s knees buckled and he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He started kissing her shoulder and she reached her free hand back and entwined her fingers in his hair. He continued kissing her shoulder and neck, his hand on her bare stomach moved down, lingered in her navel, then he slipped it between her legs. Sara moaned and bucked against his hand. He contemplated pushing her up against the wall and taking her right there, but she broke free and pulled him down the hallway, to the bedroom.
As soon as they were through the door Sara turned around and kissed him passionately. Then she broke the kiss and started unbuttoning his shirt in earnest. She was frowning with concentration, biting her bottom lip. Her hands were shaking. He rested his hands on the bare skin of her hips, above her jeans. Then his hands slid up, over her ribcage and he allowed his thumbs to caress the bottom of her naked breasts. He moved his hands up, over her breasts and started kissing her chest with fervor.
Her hands stopped what they were doing, her head fell back and she moaned from deep in the back of her throat. He moved his kisses downward and took her pierced nipple in his mouth. “Oh god,” Sara moaned, “Oh god.” She could feel her underwear getting wet.
Eventually she pushed him away and quickly slid free the last button of his shirt, pushing it off his body and started kissing his smooth chest. As she moved her kisses to his belly, she undid his belt and pulled down the zipper of his jeans. She pressed her hand against his bulge and then stepped back a few paces until the back of her legs touched the bed. Grissom watched as she slowly reached down, unbuttoned her pants and pushed down her zipper little by little. She swayed her hips teasingly and pushed her pants down all the way to her ankles. Then she sat down on the bed, leaned back on her elbows and lifted up her feet with a smile.
It took him a while to pull his eyes away from her ladybug panties and start unlacing her boots so he could remove her pants. While he was unlacing the second boot, she rubbed her bare foot against the bulge protruding from his unzipped pants.
He looked down at her ankle and slowly stroked the tattoo he had just uncovered. He swallowed, “How long have you had this?” He was stroking the inked skin wistfully.
“What? The tattoo?” She paused her ministrations against his bulge, twisted the leg he was holding to look at her ankle.
He nodded and continued to trace his fingers over the artwork adorning her skin, “Yes.”
Sara frowned, “A long time. Before I came to Vegas.”
He let go of her foot and started pulling off her pants, “Yea, I know before you came to Vegas. I saw it, remember?”
She looked at him curiously, “Before Vegas? You did not!” She nudged him with her foot.
He picked up her foot again and stroked sensually up and down her calf, “Did too.”
“When?”
“The Forensic Academy Conference.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, “You were wearing a skirt. Remember?”
She frowned, “Why was I wearing a skirt?” She hated skirts and dresses of any kind. They made her feel vulnerable.
He chuckled and took off his own pants and shoes, “I don’t know, but you were. And I saw your tattoo.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her, “Come here.” She kissed him slowly and deeply and pulled him on top of her as she fell backwards on the bed. Sara could not stop herself from running her foot up his leg and he used the opportunity to slip one leg between hers, spreading them. His one hand was in her hair while the other was kneading her breast. They continued to kiss and touch each other lovingly.
He broke the kiss and looked down at her in wonder, “God Sara, you are so beautiful.” He leaned forward and started kissing her chest. He rubbed one nipple between his fingers, pulling periodically, while he covered her other breast with his mouth. Sara was moaning and grinding against his leg. He could feel that her panties were soaked and she was spreading her wetness all over his thigh. Oh god, he wasn’t going to last.
Eventually he started kissing further down her body (lingering at her navel… again!) until he reached her underwear. He looked up at her and then pulled it down, using the opportunity to slide his hands down the outside of her legs. She sat up and with his cooperation, she removed his boxers. Grissom was sitting totally naked on his knees between her legs and she was palming him, gripping and stroking him. He couldn’t help himself. He groaned and started pushing into her hand. She licked her lips and leaned forward to take him in her mouth, but he stopped her, “Honey, if you do that this party will be over before we get to the best part.” He motioned with his head that she should lay back. Sara quirked an eyebrow, licked her lips and lay back, pulling him on top of her again.
He kissed her neck (what was it with him and her neck?) and his right hand slipped between her legs. He also pushed his leg between hers to keep them spread, and slipped his fingers between her folds. A low groan escaped her throat. His finger dipped into her opening and he spread her wetness to cover her clit. Sara was pushing against his hand and moaning loudly. He slipped two fingers into her and pumped slowly.
She couldn’t believe that Gil Grissom, entomologist extraordinaire as finger fucking her!
“Oh jesus,” she moaned, “Fuuuuck.” She was rocking against his hand trying to push his fingers deeper. He teased her clit with his thumb as he continued to move his fingers in and out, causing her movements to become more and more frantic. Her eyes were shut tightly, her mouth open and she was making small sounds at the back of her throat.
Suddenly she grabbed his hand to stop his ministrations. After a few deep breaths she whispered huskily, “Enough… enough.” She pulled his hand to her mouth and cleaned his fingers with her tongue, watching him carefully all the time.
Grissom loved every part of Sara but her mouth has always been the part that could make him harden unexpectedly (and at inappropriate times). Seeing her lips around his fingers and feeling her tongue lick them clean, he felt his blood rush south. Jesus, she was going to be the death of him. When she proceeded to kiss him deeply, he could taste her and he thought he had never tasted anything so wonderful. He desperately wanted to go down on her, but Sara has had enough of foreplay. She leaned over and opened the drawer of the bedside table.
She fumbled around a little, and then held up two condom packages, “Any preference?”
“Lady’s prerogative.”
She tossed one back in the drawer and he took the other one from her and rolled it down his engorged member.
She was lying on her back and he leaned forward and covered her body with his. He kissed her tenderly. His erection was pressing between her legs. She grasped him, gripping and pumping a couple of times before positioning him at her opening. They looked into each others eyes as he slowly penetrated her. A sound like a sigh escaped Sara’s throat. He was stretching her, filling her up and… it felt perfect.
He paused once he was fully sheathed, then he pulled out and thrust hard, as deep as he could, grunting loudly.
“Fuuuuck,” Sara groaned and held on to his upper body tightly, fully open to him. He held his position, not moving, “Uhhhh, you never answered me.” His voice was husky and he barely got the words out.
“What?” She begged, desperately wanting him to move.
He started pumping, slow and deep. “The uhhh… tattoo.”
“Jesus… not now.”
She grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him into her harder, lifting her pelvis, “More…” He started thrusting into her more forcefully.
She was moaning and mumbling something at every stroke, but he couldn’t make out the words. In the following days and weeks he would learn that Sara had a filthy mouth in bed, but for now he was too focused on the way it felt to push into her, again and again.
He was losing control, grunting as he thrust harder. She was clutching at his back leaving marks, lifting her hips to his every stroke, trying to get him deeper… deeper. He felt incredible inside her; she could swear her toes were curling every time he pushed into her. She could feel her orgasm building and she slipped one hand between their bodies and flicked her clit. “Oh god. Fuck. Uuuhhh. Ffffuuck. Ohhh…. Guhhh… Ffuuuuuuuck.” She groaned something unintelligible, and he felt her spasm and clench around him, wave after wave. He slowed his thrusting, allowing her orgasm to wash over her. She was desperately trying to keep her eyes open so she could see his face; to know that he was the one that made her come; the one still inside her. The look on her face as she continued to whisper, “Fuck, oh Fuck,” and the way her muscles were shuddering and still sporadically gripping him were stripping away his control.
He started moving again and felt his release coil in his lower body. The last semblance of control disappeared as he picked up the pace, slamming into her. Fucking her as hard as he could. He bit down on her shoulder (he would be slightly embarrassed the next day to see the marks he left on her), and pumped deep and hard, once, twice…
He came, hot, hard and very loudly; a guttural, primitive sound from deep inside his being. A few more stuttering pumps and he was done. He slumped forward, gasping for air, crushing her body with his. Sara didn’t mind. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him tightly to her.
Mine.
Both were still breathing heavily. Once he regained control over his limbs he looked into her eyes and kissed her softly, “You OK?”
“Hell yea,” she chuckled huskily. She raised her hand and caressed his face adoringly, “yea” she whispered.
Grissom had never seen any woman look at him with the total adoration Sara was at that moment. He felt his chest constrict and his breath catch in his throat. Leaning forward he kissed her tenderly for several minutes.
Eventually they stopped kissing and he slipped off her, removed the condom and went to the bathroom to dispose of it. Sara laid back, a serene expression on her face. She looked and felt properly and utterly worked over. No words of love have been spoken. No promises about the future have been made. But there was not doubt that love has been made and their relationship was changed forever.
Grissom returned from the bathroom, also looking a bit worse for wear and they got under the covers. She thought that she should probably go clean up a bit, but truthfully her wet and sticky body was a delicious reminder of what just took place. So she gave him a kiss on the shoulder and draped her body over him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
He was just about to drift of to sleep when he heard, “Griss.”
“Hmmm?”
“Is it too early to say that I really love your dick?”
He snorted and chuckled at her outrageous comment, “No, I’m sure my *dick* is very happy to hear that.”
Grissom would soon learn that Sara found it endlessly amusing that he was easily flustered by her outrageous post-coital remarks. She also liked to tease him mercilessly every opportunity she got. But those quirky details (that he secretly adored) concerning an intimate relationship with Sara were still to be discovered. At this moment they were drifting off to a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms, smiles on their faces. And for one perfect moment, everything seemed right with the world.
The two elephants looked at each other, stunned. One nodded slightly, turned around and sauntered into oblivion. The remaining elephant looked at the two sleeping figures, frowned and shifted its weight morosely from one foot to the other.
TBC
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A/N: I was trying to stay somewhat in the canon universe, so there weren’t any declarations of love. According to WP, season 7 was about Grissom realizing that he loved Sara. And in several interviews both WP and JF refer to Grissom and Sara’s intimate relationship as an affair, so I treated it as such since this is just the start of their relationship.
Chapter 1
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Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. If I did, Jorja would be contracted to CSI for the next 10 years (at least!).
A/N: Yes, there are elephants. But don’t worry it’s not as weird as it sounds.
This is NOT a songfic. However, there is a bit of a long quote from a song at the beginning. The lyrics were just so perfect that I didn’t want to cut it down, but just skip it if it irritates you.
I’m not a writer at all, and English is not even my first language, so I apologize in advance for the bad grammar. If you spot something that is really irritating, let me know and I’ll correct it. O/U (Obviously unbeta’d).
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“Baby, I've been waiting,
I've been waiting night and day.
I didn't see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
I know you really loved me.
but, you see, my hands were tied.
I know it must have hurt you,
it must have hurt your pride
to have to stand beneath my window
with your bugle and your drum,
and me I'm up there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
…
I dreamed about you, baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light.
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
…
Ah baby, let's get married,
we've been alone too long.
Let's be alone together.
Let's see if we're that strong.
Yeah let's do something crazy, …
~Leonard Cohen – Waiting for the Miracle
In the months since her near DUI, Sara has been focusing on getting her life in order; and that meant dealing with two big issues - her unhappy past and; the fact that she wanted to screw her boss (badly). As her PEAP counselor suggested, she had told Grissom (that’s the boss) about her past. OK, so she couldn’t honestly say that she would have told him if he hadn’t pushed her into it after her blow-up with Catherine and Ecklie (and he played dirty with the whole, “it matters to me” thing!). But still, she did tell him. As her supervisor, she should have told him years ago, but as the object of her affection, she tried to hide that part of her life from him… and everybody else.
It has become painfully clear to her that she had let her romantic feelings for Grissom damage their working relationship. So, once her counselor convinced her that she had to tell him about her past, she started to let go of her hopes of ever having a romantic relationship with him. It didn’t mean that she stopped loving him (or wanting to jump his bones); it just meant that she had stopped *dreaming* that one day they would be together. She has made her peace with it.
Yea, keep telling yourself that Sidle.
Well, at least she was trying.
It hasn’t been easy. Seeing his close relationship with
First of all she wanted to repair their working relationship. Even before she told Grissom about her past, she tried to clear the air by telling him why she came to Vegas (for him of course). Although she did not go into his office that day with the purpose of telling him that exactly, the opportunity presented itself and she took it. She wanted Grissom to know that he could relax around her. She wasn’t going to let her personal feelings for him sour their working relationship anymore. She was letting him go.
She was trying to change her whole perspective about their relationship. Yes, she was still in love with him, but she wasn’t going to let that dictate her life and decisions anymore. He was a good man. At least she fell in love with a good man. That made her smile. God knows, she has been in love with some jerks over the years. So they were never going to be together in the way she hoped. So what? Shit happens every day. She was determined to be mature about the situation and to at least *try* to be friends with him. The bottom line was - she really liked him (yes, really). And she knew he liked her too (he did!), and despite all the sexual tension and unrequited love issues, they used to be good friends.
And at last they were becoming friends again. After her DUI, Grissom had become markedly more pleasant towards her at work (meaning he didn’t pretend she was invisible anymore). He paired them together on cases and their working relationship became comfortable.
Once she told him about her past they started working on their relationship away from work.
He started coming around to her home some mornings for breakfast - always unannounced. Sara chuckled and shook her head slightly. God was that man afraid of commitment or what? After the Adam Trent incident their breakfasts together became a regular occurrence.
She knew he was checking up on her. That was OK. He was being a good friend and boss and she was determined to keep her personal feelings (wanting to push him up against the closest wall and have her way with him) out of it and enjoy his friendship and their new camaraderie.
Besides, she had a bigger issue to deal with. The events of the last year have made it crystal clear to her that she had to find a way to deal with her past. She has ignored it for too long. Since she moved to Vegas she has spent all her emotional energy on her feelings for Grissom. She knew that if she wanted to keep doing this job, she would have to find a way to deal with the proverbial elephant in the room, before it was too late. Now that she was feeling relatively secure in her friendship with Grissom and their working relationship was comfortable, Sara was determined to focus all her energy on putting the large pachyderm to rest once and for all.
Despite Sara’s best intentions her relationship with Grissom was about to take and unexpected turn, distracting her from the restless mammal. In just a little more than two years her neglected companion was going to come out of the shadows and hit her like the proverbial ton of bricks (or average sized elephant), throwing her life into total disarray. But that is a story for another time. On this Sunday morning Sara Sidle was driving home feeling content and at peace with herself, looking forward to her night off and possibly, breakfast with Grissom.
Grissom was sitting in his office, finishing up the last of his paperwork before going home. As he started putting away his stuff, he contemplated going to Sara’s for breakfast. He could hardly believe how much their relationship has changed since her near DUI. After that incident and her disregard for her safety dealing with the pipe bombs, it had gotten through his thick skull (at last) that Sara was struggling. He made an effort to pair them together on cases, and they were working together comfortably again.
Of course soon he became distracted by
Then one day she sauntered into his office and told him she moved to Vegas for him. Just like that! It always amazed him how open Sara was about her feelings for him. She basically told him she had romantic feelings for him, but that she realized that they were inappropriate. He did not WANT her to feel that her feelings for him were inappropriate!
No matter how many times he had told himself the very same thing about his feelings for his former student and current subordinate.
But he never wanted HER to feel that way.
She interrupted him when he tried to suggest that they should do something together, saying “It’s OK.” As she left the office he realized that Sara just told him that she had given up on a relationship with him. She was letting him go. He didn’t want to be let go! It left him feeling defeated and depressed. Not only did he loose his team, he also lost Sara’s affection. And the worst thing was - he didn’t even put up a fight; not for his team and not for Sara. Maybe that was why, a week later he was so willing to risk his job to save hers. He wasn’t going to let Sara disappear from his life without a fight. He grew some balls.
As it turned out, the whole incident between Sara and Catherine would be the beginning of a serious change in his relationship with Sara. He didn’t know what he expected when he went to her apartment that day. She seemed determined to loose her job and he just couldn’t mesh this self-destructive streak with the Sara he thought he knew. He wanted to find out what the hell was going on with her.
He got much more than he bargained for.
It occurred to him afterwards that during all those times he chastised Sara for getting too emotionally involved in cases, it was actually a miracle she could function at all. On some level he thought that Sara would make up some lame story about what was going on with her. His half expected her to blame everything on their non-existent relationship. And to start with she did. But when he pushed her she told him the truth.
And he suddenly wished that their non-existent relationship WAS the real reason for her behavior.
He should have known better than to think that someone like Sara would be this disturbed by something that was anything less than unbearable. He should have known Sara better.
So, he made a decision. He was going to be there for Sara. He was going to be her friend. Regardless of their romantic feelings for each other, they always LIKED each other - from the very beginning. Their relationship broke apart because he did not know how to deal with the fact that he wanted to rip her clothes off every time they were in the same room. It wasn’t a serious problem when he still thought his fantasies about Sara were unattainable. Yes, he was jealous when he found out she was screwing that EMT. He even reacted unprofessionally. (It was a good thing then that he didn't know that Hank was hardly the first and certainly not the last of her Vegas lovers.) But it did confirm his belief that despite all her flirting, she had no serious romantic feelings for him.
Of course then, in typical Sara fashion she walked up to him and asked him out to dinner. To “see what happens.” And he suddenly realized that his wet dream was an actual possibility. He was terrified. He was literally scared out of his mind. He knew he could not take the professional and emotional risks required to make that fantasy a reality. So he pushed her away. Coward! It was easier for him to not be around her all the time - less temptation.
But the image of Sara trying desperately not to cry (and failing) while she told him about her past did something to him. His heart broke for her. He wanted nothing more in the world than to take her pain away.
He, god-damn-it, nearly cried himself. Yes, the man without feelings got a lump the size of Goliath beetle in his throat!
He swallowed the lump in his throat and vowed that he was going to do everything in his power to repair his friendship with Sara. He was going to be there for her, damn it! He was determined that he would be her friend, without giving in to the temptation to turn it into something more. He was nearly 50 years old for God’s sake! He could keep his dick in his pants if he had to!
It only occurred to him much later that Mark Twain really knew his way around the rivers in
And so it began. He started showing up at her apartment after shift (unannounced) with bagels and fresh juice for breakfast. Sometimes they would talk about work, sometimes they would just sit around reading the paper (and most times he would sneak a peak as her shirt rode up when she reached for the glasses on the top shelf). It was going well. They were becoming more comfortable around each other. He never stayed long. He didn’t want his mind to wander too much while being in such a relaxed atmosphere alone with her.
He *did* find it a little disconcerting that Sara seemed to have gotten over her feelings for him. She did not give him any meaningful glances and did not try to make more of their time together. It seemed that she truly has let him go. He should have been happy about that, but every time he gave her an opening for some innocent flirting and she didn’t take the bait, he felt a knot in his stomach.
And then Adam Trent happened. Grissom didn’t like thinking about what happened in that hospital. Since then, his breakfasts with Sara have become more frequent until they were having breakfast together nearly every day. AND he was staying longer and longer. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing that exact spot where Adam Trent pushed the pottery shard against her neck. It was becoming harder and harder (no pun intended) for him to not wipe the remnants of cream-cheese off her lips with his thumb.
Lately he has found himself jerking off in his shower every morning after their breakfasts together.
A VERY bad sign.
Grissom was thinking that maybe he should skip their breakfast today. He always knew that spending time alone with Sara away from work would test his self-control. Sara seemed to have gotten over her feelings for him and he had to admit that it was probably the best thing for her. She has suffered enough because of him.
But tonight was Sara’s night off and they never got together on mornings after one of them was off. So, if he didn’t go this morning, he wouldn’t see her until Monday night’s shift. He grabbed his jacket and locked his office.
Bagels-with-cream-cheese and Sara.
How could any mortal man possibly resist?
TBC
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Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
A/N: After I posted Passion Gap, this came to me while walking to work. So I thought, what the heck, I’ll post it. Unbeta’d.
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Grissom’s eyes begin to focus again as he slowly and reluctantly returns from the images playing in his head, to be confronted with the very real image of Sara looking directly at him. She has turned her head, and now her left cheek is resting on her knees. Grissom clears his throat, shifts in his chair and returns to his crossword puzzle.
Since Sara woke up this afternoon, she's been feeling strange. Just a few minutes ago she suddenly realized what this feeling was. She had that heavy, languid feeling one feels the morning after great sex. Despite what her colleagues think about her general lack of diversions and “a life”, she did have a reasonable sex life (reasonable, that is for a single workaholic on the night shift). Of course never with anybody remotely associated with law enforcement or her job. She learned her lesson with Hank. The peculiarity of her feelings this evening were that she did not have great sex last night. In fact she did not have any sex in the last couple of weeks.
She takes a sip of her coffee and turns her head to the right, resting her cheek on her knees. Grissom is sitting at the table looking at her, but apparently not really seeing her, because he doesn’t look away. Grissom. She smiles to herself. She wonders what it would be like to wake up next to his naked body the morning after a night of great sex. And make no mistake, it WILL be great sex. What would it feel like to lie with their legs entwined, facing each other while she slowly slides her hand down his smooth chest, to his stomach and beyond? Would he mind when she takes a detour from planting wet kisses on his neck to slide her tongue into the cleft of his chin before kissing him deeply on the mouth despite her morning breath? Would he keep his eyes open when she straddles him and use her hands to brace herself on his chest as she slowly lowers herself onto him?
But mostly she wonders whether he will ever give her the opportunity to find out.
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Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
Grissom looks up from his crossword. Peering over the top of his glasses he can see Sara over Catherine’s left shoulder, sitting on the couch against the wall. She has her knees drawn up to her chest and her feet on the couch. Her chin is resting lightly on her knees, and she is holding her coffee with both hands, staring intently into the cup. Not for the first time, Grissom wonders what it would feel like to let his hand trail up her naked leg, all the way from the sole of her foot; lingering just a little behind her knee; moving higher and higher until he can feel her heat radiating against his hand. He shifts a little in his chair, takes a quick look around the room to make sure everybody is still occupied with their own diversions.
He speculates whether she would moan as he traces the length of her spine with his fingers, allowing the palm of his hand to spread out over her lower back, sliding down and down, between her legs. Would he moan when he encircles her ribcage with his hands and allows his thumbs to trace the underside of her naked breasts?
But mostly he wonders what it would feel like the first time he presses his tongue against that little gap between her teeth.
A/N: This is the final chapter. Hope you like it. Thanks so much for everybody that commented. This story was my very first try at fan fiction. Unbeta'd.
They did not speak more than a few words all the way to the hospital and back. She parks in front of the house, walks around the car and helps him out. The doctors gave him a cane and told him try to stay off the foot as much as possible. He limps awkwardly towards the house, unlocks the door and goes inside. Sara follows a few steps behind. Grissom makes it over to the couch, sits down and puts his injured foot on the coffee table. For the first time he notices the empty spaces previously occupied by Sara’s belongings.
“You need anything.”
“No. I’m fine.”
She starts cleaning up the mess on the kitchen floor. He wants to tell her that he will do it later, but he needs time to come up with something to say to stop her from leaving again. So he lets her clean the floor while he racks his brain for the right thing to say. Once she’s finished, she unlocks the doggie-door to let Dog in. They locked him out to prevent him from accidentally stepping in the glass. Apparently Dog switched loyalties in the last couple of days, because he walks up to Sara and nuzzles her palm with his nose, totally ignoring Grissom.
“Grissom?”
“Yea?”
“I’m really sorry. About earlier. I did not mean to …” Her voice trails off. She takes a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.” Grissom nods, “It’s OK”. She was obviously uncomfortable, shuffling from one foot to the other. She looks about ready to bolt. Grissom takes a deep breath. When in doubt talk about work, “So I guess you got that job in
“Yea.”
“Missing persons?”
“Yea.” She pauses and clears her throat, “I need at least the possibility of finding the victims alive. I know that won’t always happen, but at least I’ll start every job looking for a live person. I can’t start every day looking at dead bodies anymore.”
Grissom nods. He wants to keep her talking, keep her from leaving. He wants to ask her where she’s been all this time. Why she didn’t contact him. Why exactly she left in the first place. But mostly he’s terrified that if he lets her walk out the door this time he will never see her again. He decides to focus on the future. Hopefully he’ll get a chance to ask about the past later. In all the time they were together he has never initiated discussions about their feelings, but these are desperate times, “Are you happy Sara?” She looks appropriately startled that he would ask such a thing and for a moment he thinks that she wasn’t going to answer. But then she looks down at her feet and says, “I can never come back to Vegas, Griss.”
“What if I came to
“I once asked you to come to Vegas. And you did.” She nods, but doesn’t say anything. He wants to get up and go to her, but his foot hurts like a son-of-a-bitch, so he stays on the couch. “Sara, do you still love me?” She swallows, “Me loving you is not enough.”
“What about me loving you? So much that I’ll leave Vegas, my job, everything to be with you? Is that enough?” She is watching him carefully. “Sara, I know there are things we need to talk about, things we need to work out. Please, let me do this. Let me come with you.” He is starting to panic now. “Sara, if you don’t love me anymore I’ll accept it,” he can’t quite make it through that part without his voice breaking, but he presses on, ”but if this is just a matter of geography, please let me come with you and let both of us be happy. I want to be with you.” He is slightly out of breath. He sits back on the couch. He doesn’t know what else to say.
She is quiet for a while before saying, “You can’t leave your job…” He interrupts her, “Sara, I told you...” “Wait, let me finish.” She takes a deep breath. “Maybe we can start with you coming to visit me.”
“When?”
“When we can both get a few days off.” She barely gets the last word out before he blurts out, “I can get time off anytime.” Sara shakes her head and he sees the corners of her mouth turn up slightly. She slowly walks over and joins him on the couch. Dog trots behind her and flops down on the floor at her feet. Grissom tentatively takes her hand. They sit together quietly for a while.
“So when can I visit?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Sara!”
She take a deep breath, “Griss, how can you ever forgive me?”
“For what?”
She rolls her eyes. “For leaving you! For disappearing for three months!”
“I’ve done much worse.” He stops her when she tries to interrupt. “Sara, I told you I’d wait for you. You waited for me for years. Three months was nothing.”
“Really?” Sara suppresses a smile. “So if I said I needed more time you would be OK with that?”
For a moment a look of sheer panic crosses his face before he realizes that she’s teasing him, “Honey, I nearly lost my mind.” Sara lifts her free hand and touches the side of his face softly, then whispers, “Me too.”
He’s tracing small circles on her hand with his thumb “What time is your flight?” She looks at her watch. “Left 45 minutes ago. I’m sure I can get another one tomorrow.” He grins at her and says quietly, “Why don’t you stay here tonight? You can take the guestroom.” Sara raises one eyebrow, chuckles softly and nudges him with her shoulder, “Why would I want to stay in the guestroom?”
Grissom laughs. “Are you sure you won’t let me move to
She smiles. “Maybe we should leave the life-altering decisions until after the painkillers wear off”.
“I didn’t take the painkillers.”
~The End~
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A/N: OK, so I know you are thinking,” What? That’s it? No explanation of why Sara left and where she was?” I felt that the readers should only be privy to the same information as Grissom. And I wanted Grissom to sacrifice everything for Sara without logical explanations. I wanted him to make a decision without having all the facts. Choosing with his heart, not his head.
You might also wonder how the title applies to this fic, since it’s not actually about killing Sara. The title has to do with what Sara fans have been going through the last few months with Living Doll/Dead Doll and Sara’s current uncertain future. It just feels to me that Sara is constantly in danger of being killed off. I guess the point with this fic is, “Yea OK, give them angst if you have to, but they better have a happy ending. And no killing Sara!”
GSR forever!
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
A/N: At last, a slightly longer chapter. Unbeta’d.
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He received a text message from her 30 minutes ago, “Done Left key in kitchen S.” He stared at it for a while. He found it hard to believe that this is what they’ve become. Incomplete sentences and absent punctuation. God, he hates text messages. He slowly gets up and makes his way out of the office to his car. He’s taking the night off. He needs it. He feels like shit and looks worse.
He unlocks the door to his house and takes a deep breath before entering. He’s not sure he’s adequately prepared to face the house without everything Sara. Dog doesn’t greet him at the door. Maybe he is still in the backyard. Or did Sara take Dog? Technically he was her dog. Although he never listened to a word she said and followed Grissom everywhere. Still, he was her dog. Grissom doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. He drops his kit on the floor next to the door, keys, wallet and small change on the table to his right, jacket on the floor. He kicks off his shoes and walks into the kitchen, puts ice in a glass and fills it to the brim with his favorite Scotch. He takes a large gulp, then presses the cold glass to his forehead and closes his eyes.
“Headache?”
Grissom drops the glass, swings around and stares in the direction of the voice. The glass hits the edge of the counter, then the floor and shatters into hundreds of pieces. Glass, ice and expensive Scotch all over the kitchen floor. Grissom could not care less about the kitchen floor. Or the whisky. In the dim light he can see her outline on the couch. Dog is lying next to her with his head in her lap. Grissom takes a step towards her. A string of foul language that would make a sailor cringe escapes his mouth as he steps into a large piece of glass. Sara sits frozen on the couch.
Then she jumps up, nearly causing Dog to tumble off the couch onto the floor and starts walking quickly in the direction of the door, head bent, not looking at Grissom. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to say goodbye. I’ll go. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She sounds frightened. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have stayed. I’m sorry Grissom. I’m going. I’m so sorry.”
“Shut up Sara! Just shut up.” Grissom is yelling. Dog jumps up and runs through the doggie-door. Sara freezes with her hand on the doorknob. “I stepped in a piece of glass,” he says more calmly.
“Oh. Oh!” She turns around, “Are you OK?”
“No Sara. I’m not OK. I’m bleeding all over the kitchen floor.”
Sara flips on the light and slowly walks towards him. Grissom forgets all about the bleeding and just looks at her. Her hair is slightly shorter and she didn’t straighten it. She looks healthy and … tanned? She doesn’t meet his eyes but concentrates on weaving through the pieces of glass, until she stands in front of him. She kneels and looks up at him, “May I?” He nods. The gently takes his foot in her hand and indicates he should bend his knee so she can inspect the bottom. “I’m going to remove the glass.” She leans closer and pulls out the glass. “It’s bleeding pretty badly. Do you think you can make it to the couch?” She stands up, puts her arm around him and helps him to the couch. Without saying a word she disappears down the hall to get the first-aid kit from the bathroom. She returns, kneels next to him and proceeds to remove his sock and clean the wound. Grissom doesn’t say anything. He can’t take his eyes off her. Sara sits back, “I think you need stitches.”
“I’m sure a bandage will do.”
“No Grissom. You need stitches!”
“Sara!”
“Just for once listen to me! I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Sara, I’ll be fine.”
“Oh for God’s sake Grissom, just get in the car!”
TBC
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
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Grissom enters the house and Dog greets him excitedly at the door. He sighs (Grissom, not Dog). He opens the back door so Dog can run around the backyard and fills his bowls with food and water. He really should take him for a walk in the park or at least install the doggie-door Sara bought before she left. Somehow he just doesn’t have the energy. He pours a drink and slumps down on the couch with another heavy sigh. On the coffee table is the forensic journal Sara was reading the evening before she left. Still with a Post-it marking her place. He picks it up and flips through the pages. He really should start packing her things.
He wonders what Sara has been doing for the last three months. He’s had no enquiries from prospective employers about her. As her supervisor for seven years it is unlikely that anybody would hire her as a CSI or in a related field without contacting him first. He doesn’t really think that Sara wants to work as a CSI anymore. But where is she? He knows that she had some money saved, but that cannot last for ever. At some stage she will have to find a job again. He gets up to pour himself another drink. As he returns to the couch he sees the light on his answering machine flashing. When Sara first left, his heart skipped a beat every time he saw that flashing light. But as every message turned out to not be her, he stopped paying much attention to his messages. He absentmindedly presses the button and returns to the couch nursing his drink.
“Hey.” He lifts his head and stares at the machine. [pause] “It’s me. Sara. Uhm… I guess you’re not home. OK. Uhm… [long pause] OK. Bye.”
He jumps up and replays the message several times. What? That’s it? No number where he can contact her? No address? No, “How are you? Sorry I disappeared for three months.” Nothing! That’s it? He slams down his palm on the table, grabs the machine and throws it across the room. It hits the kitchen counter in spectacular fashion. Grissom sinks to the ground and drops his head into his hands. He doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this. He hasn’t had a proper meal or a good night’s sleep in weeks. No, months. He is rapidly working his way through his entire collection of single malt. He sighs. He suspects it won’t be long before it starts affecting his work. He stares at the remains of his answering machine, scattered across the floor and wonders whether he will be able to salvage the tape.
**************
Two days later he receives a call from the Missing Persons Division of the FBI in
The next day he is out at a crime scene when his phone rings. He hasn’t slept for 36 hours. The display shows a
“Hey.”
“Sara?”
“Yes.”
Silence. “Uhm,… I’m calling to ask whether it would be OK if I came by the house tomorrow to pick up my stuff?”
“You’re in Vegas?”
“Flying in tonight.” [pause]
“How long are you staying?”
“Just a couple of days to pack my stuff and get it shipped. I can get the movers to pick up the boxes day-after tomorrow…. So is that OK?”
“Yes. Fine. You still have your key?”
“Yes.”
“OK. Just leave it on the kitchen counter when you’re done.”
[long pause] “OK. Uhm…Bye.”
“Goodbye Sara.”
TBC
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
A/N: Sorry, this is a short chapter. Unbeta’d.
He’s growing his beard again. Well, not so much growing it, as he stopped shaving. It suddenly occurred to him that there was no statistically significant correlation between catching criminals and well-groomed facial hair. He is also spending more and more time at work. Right after Sara left, he spent as much time at home as he could. He was afraid she would come home and he won’t be there. He even took a few days off. Now he spends every possible moment at work. If it wasn’t for Dog, he would probably just sleep in his office and not go home at all. He is considering finding a new home for Dog. Maybe he should put an ad in the newspaper?
Things are going well at work. Criminals are being caught at an impressive rate. His paperwork is up to date. Does it really matter that he is miserable? In the big scheme of things, what does one more broken, middle-aged hart matter? People have stopped asking him about Sara. He suspects that they realized that he had no better idea about where she was and what she was doing than they did. It is entirely possible that she contacted some members of the team. Maybe Greg or Nick. He has no idea, and he’ll be damned if he is going to ask.
A couple of weeks ago he seriously considered looking for her. At least then he would know that she was OK. But what if he ruins his last chance by not giving her what she apparently needs? To be away from Vegas and him. She did not explicitly say that she was not coming back. She has not sent for her belongings. All her things are just as she left them. Maybe she hasn’t made up her mind yet. Maybe she just needs a bit more time. So, he gave her more time.
Today, for the first time since Sara left nine weeks ago, he’s angry with her. She could at least let him know that she was OK. Even if their relationship is over, he still cares about her. They’ve always cared about each other. For all he knows she is lying dead in a ditch somewhere! She could at least give him some peace of mind. She at least owes him that much! She didn’t even tell him why she left.
Maybe it is time to start packing her things.
TBC
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
The bedroom is dark and the only sound that can be heard is soft snoring. Grissom is lying on his back, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. A sudden loud snore makes him blink and tilt his head to look at Dog, taking up half the bed. Sara’s half. He sighs and stares back at the ceiling. He wonders how it was possible that two such bright people could not agree about a name for a dog. They had to resort to calling him Dog.
It has been 6 weeks since Sara left. The first week after she left he was doing fine. He kept telling himself that she did not leave because of him. It was work that drove her away. Look, all her stuff was still here. She’ll be back. She could walk through that door any minute now. She just needed a break away from work. Just like he needed his sabbatical. Nothing to worry about. Time off would do her good. She loved him. He knew she loved him. When she came back, maybe she could go back to school, get that PhD. And they will be happy and everything will be fine. She just needed some space. This is also what he told the rest of the members of the night shift. Yes, Sara did resign. She is taking some time off, away from Vegas. She has been through a lot. YES, of course she’s coming back!
The trouble started about ten days after she left. He was getting ready for bed and was trying to remember the last time they made love. And no matter how hard he concentrated, he could not remember. He could remember the time and place. The Wednesday before she left, the bedroom. But that was it. He could not remember the details. Of course it is a sad fact that people rarely know when they are making love to someone for the last time while they are doing it. So he did not particularly try to remember it while it was taking place. But still. He wished he could remember.
For the next few days it kept nagging at him. But he was still doing fine. The real problems started fifteen days after Sara left. He was lying on his side in bed, again trying to remember the elusive Wednesday night. He was mentally flipping through their favorite sexual positions, to see whether any of them jogged his memory. He smiled. Sara was adventurous in bed, but she liked to be able to see his face during sex. He thought it was sweet. It is no coincidence that there are several mirrors placed strategically throughout their house. Suddenly he frowned and turned on his back. No, she used to like seeing his face. Lately she was more inclined to not look at his face. When did that start? After she was kidnapped? He thought the change was because her broken arm made some positions awkward. But now he realizes that it started before that. After their “misunderstanding” about Heather? He suddenly sits up in bed. No, it first started after he returned from sabbatical. But over time she reverted back to watching his face. It was after Heather that she again stopped watching his face. That was also around the time Sara started referring to sex as fucking instead of making love. Grissom got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. He rubbed his hand over his face a few times. How could he have missed that? He poured himself a stiff drink and sat down on the couch.
He took a few sips and stared at nothing in particular. Maybe he is overreacting. Yes, that was it. Sara would have discussed it with him, if something was bothering her. Right? No, he knew very well that that was not necessarily true. She was hurt by the whole Heather fiasco and after they smoothed things over, she would probably not want to bring it up again. How could he have been so stupid? Of course her leaving had something to do with him! Oh God, she is not coming back, is she? Grissom got up and started pacing. He did not even know where she was. He had no idea. He had no way of contacting her. Her cell phone was lab property and she turned it in with her badge and gun when she resigned. Of course he could find her through “unofficial use of lab recourses”, but he did not think Sara would appreciate that. She left this way for a reason. If she wanted to contact him, she knew where to find him.
He slowly made his way back to the bedroom. Dog was still fast asleep on Sara’s side of the bed. Grissom sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and then slowly got under the covers and stared at the ceiling.
That was four weeks ago. Grissom has not had a good night’s sleep since. He looked and felt like shit. People at work have started commenting about the dark circles under his eyes and his general unhealthy appearance. Both Catherine and Brass have tried to corner him and talk to him about what is going on. Just about everybody has tried to get Sara’s contact information from him.
Six weeks! And still no word from Sara.
TBC
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did there would be no need for fly-overs.
A/N: OK, this is my first ever fan fiction. I'm not a writer at all, but this scene just kept popping into my head.
“No.”
He takes a seat next to her on the couch. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
They are silent for a while. He takes her hand, weaving their fingers together.
“I’m leaving.”
“CSI?”
She nods, and for the first time meets his eyes. “Vegas.”
He looks at her for a long time before responding.
“I see.”
Grissom shifts, clears his throat. “Are you coming back?”
Sara is still looking straight at him. Without blinking she says, “I don’t know.”
Silence engulfs them. After awhile Grissom clears his throat again and asks. “Can I come with you?”
For a moment she stares at him, but them she looks away. He sees the small shake of her head.
After another long silence. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure.”
Silence and darkness surrounds them once more.
“When are you leaving?”
“I was just waiting for you. To tell you. To explain.”
She turns to look into his eyes once more.
Then she gets up, untangles their hands and disappears into the bedroom. She re-appears with a large dufflebag slung over her shoulder. “I’ll let you know what to do with the rest of my stuff.”
He nods.
She walks to the front door, opens it.
“Sara.” She stops. Turns around and watches him walking up to her.
He smiles, for the first time since entering the house. “I’ll wait for you.”
She nods. He sees a small smile on her lips (or maybe he is imagining it). She turns around, walks out the door, closing it softly behind her. He hears her footsteps disappearing. “I love you”, he whispers (too late).