Author: Odoriferous

Spoilers: It's a post Bloodlines fic. Here's what I think should happen.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, people with more power do. I just borrow them from time to time and let them play. So don't sue.

Title:

Home is … where the heart is.

Grissom stood in the doorway as he listened to the officer recite the events of the night. His eyes were focused on the dejected form of Sara Sidle, who sat on one of the chairs in the LVPD waiting lounge with her head hung down.

"She blew .09. So technically she's over, but they just lowered the limit, so we cut her a break and didn't book her", the officer explained.

"We had to call her supervisor though."

Grissom nodded.

"Thank you, I appreciate the courtesy."

He felt a lot calmer now than when he had first gotten the call. All he wanted to know then was whether she was alright. His heart had started racing at the first mention of her name and he had thought of all the horrible things that might have happened to her. The vision of Debbie Marlin had crossed his mind for a brief moment, not to his own surprise. Vivid, violent dreams had been haunting him for a while, in which Debbie's face was replaced by Sara's and she lay on the floor, throat cut and lifeless. When the call came from the LVPD, he thought his worst dreams had come true. Standing in the doorway of the lounge, he felt his heart start to beat rapidly again. Different circumstances caused his palpitations this time. It was fear that gripped his heart, mingled with passion and a sudden wave of tenderness, as he stared at her slumping body.

She didn't look up as he approached. the fact that she sat up a little straighter, as if readying herself for a chastisement, was the only indication that she'd even noticed him. He sat in the seat next to her and took the opportunity to gaze at her for a short while. His eyes drifted towards Sara's hands in her lap. They shook a little, he noticed. He let his big warm hand envelop her much smaller delicate one and rubbed his thumb gently across her fingers and the back of her hand. Sara, however, still hadn't looked at him, but a tired sigh escaped her lips.

"Come on, I'll take you home", he said.

She lowered her head as if in defeat.

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Grissom stood up from his seat without releasing her hand. He crouched down in front of her and took her other hand in his. Her skin felt very cold and frail. Grissom stared at their linked hands for a while. There had been many times in the past, that he'd wanted to hold her hand. Many times in the past that he'd wanted to hold all of her. Just feel her against him, just for a while. But soon enough the realisation had come that that would be too much for him, and yet not enough. He'd lose himself in her and he'd never be able to let her go again. He just couldn't let that happen and so he'd moved away from her. It had been a simple plan. All he had to do was not pay attention to her anymore. Treat her as an employee and try to forget. It hadn't worked. She was a magnet for his attention as she sashayed through the lab's hallways with her confident stride, as she bent over the table to retrieve evidence, as she smiled… Oh, who was he kidding, it didn't matter what she did, she was always on his mind. It angered him. Or at least for a while it did. He was slowly starting to give up the fight. What was the use of fighting something you apparently had no control over? He couldn't forget her. But in trying to do so, he'd hurt her. He knew, because she smiled less these days. And how he missed that gap toothed grin of hers. It had been a long time since she'd really offered him an honest smile, one that reached her gorgeous chocolate brown eyes.

Then he noticed her eyes were trained on him. How long had he been staring at their hands, reminiscing? He smiled apologetically. She didn't smile back, she just stared at him as if he'd suddenly grown three heads.

"You ready to go?", he managed.

Sara nodded. Grissom gently pulled her up by her hands. When she stood up she was so agonizingly close to him, he could feel her breath against his skin. He released both her hands and closed his arms around her, pulling her into an awkward hug. Sara was momentarily stunned by his sudden advance and gasped slightly. Grissom drew his head back a few inches to look into her eyes. As he saw the tears welling up in them, he felt his own throat constrict and a sadness swept over him.

"Sweetheart", he whispered.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in the nape of his neck, letting warm salty droplets caress his skin and soak his shirt. A moment passed, but Sara quickly seemed to regain control over her emotions and she pushed herself away from him. Grissom wasn't quite ready to relinquish her yet and he kept her encircled in his strong embrace.

"Grissom, let go."

"I can't."

She looked at him with tired eyes.

"What?"

He wiped a tear from her cheek, but made sure to keep his other arm around her body, ensuring his hold on her. All of a sudden he was afraid of letting her go. Ironic it was, after trying to push her away for more than a year.

"I don't want to lose you."

"I'm fine, Grissom."

"I know."

"I made a stupid mistake and I'm sorry." She paused.

"I know this must be embarrassing for you, having to pick up an employee at PD."

Grissom shook his head.

"I don't care. All I care about is that you're alright."

Sara couldn't quite believe her ears. She'd figured he'd be angry and cold towards her. It would have fit his recent demeanor towards her well. Instead was showing her more gentleness than ever. This wasn't helping her resolve in any way. She'd made a pact with herself to forget this man before it destroyed her. Why did he have to be so kind now? It was too late. Or wasn't it?

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"I'll pick you up tomorrow to come get your car from the impound", Grissom said as they walked to his Denali.

"It's fine. You don't have to do that. I'll take a cab into work and then I'll pick up my car after I get off", Sara said.

Grissom sighed.

"You're not working tomorrow, Sara."

She stopped dead in her tracks and glared at him.

"Sara", he stated exasperatedly, "This is not a negotiation. Take a couple of days off. Hell, you could take the rest of the year off, with all the overtime you put in."

"Are you ordering me to take a vacation?", Sara asked incredulously. Her eyes were hot with anger and frustration.

"Yes."

"Fine. Take me home."

She was too tired to argue with him. For a moment she'd been ready to believe that this instance would be a turning point. His gentle response to her little personal crisis had fuelled the hope of regaining their previous comfort level. It angered her that just a touch from that man could sweep her off of her feet and launch her right back to square one of her master plan designed to get over Grissom.

They both got in the car without exchanging another word. However, Grissom didn't start the car. He turned to look at Sara, but she was gazing unseeingly out the window at the early morning. His hand on her arm made her jerk around. It took every ounce of self restraint not to yell 'what?' at him. She pursed her lips.

"Sara."

"What?", she said quietly.

"I'm concerned about you, that's all. I think you need a break. Everyone does from time to time, you know. No matter how tough they are."

"If you're concerned, let me come to work. It's what I want."

"Maybe it's not what you need, though."

"Don't you tell me what I need", she replied acidly.

Her words caused Grissom to flinch. He paused, weighing his words in his mind.

"I realize I haven't been in tune with what you need. I…", he stuttered.

Why was it that he could never find the words, when everything in his head was so clear. Why did this woman leave him so tongue-tied?

"Save it, Grissom. I don't want to hear this again. You've made yourself abundantly clear."

"I don't think I have, Sara."

Sara shook her head in disbelief. This was the last conversation she wanted to have right now. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

"Will you look at me?"

Grissom reached out his hand to gently turn her face towards him.

"I'm sorry", he said so honestly it made her want to believe him.

"What for?"

"Everything. For being a jerk, for trying to convince myself I could just ignore this thing between us."

"This thing, Grissom?"

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you?", he grinned.

Sara grinned right back, in spite of herself. She felt like she should be mad at him, but his gorgeous blue eyes staring at her made it impossible.

"Have you finally figured it out then?", she enquired tentatively.

"From my end, I have. You, I don't know."

"I told you before, I know what to do about this. It's you who never wanted anything to do with me."

It felt like a cold hand grabbed his heart when he heard her words. It was hard to believe that she thought he didn't want anything to do with her. Surely, she couldn't think that?

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. I got the message."

"No, no", Grissom said anxiously.

"I…It was just hard for me to come to terms with it. I tried to fight it, but now I realize I can't. And I shouldn't, because it's not fair to you. Or to me for that matter."

"Define 'it'."

Grissom chuckled at her unrelenting effort to objectify this strange attraction between them. Then his tone became serious.

"I don't know what I should call it. I've never felt this way before."

Sara swallowed hard. This was what she'd wanted for so long, to hear him acknowledge his feeling towards her. Even if it led to nothing. She just needed confirmation that she wasn't imagining things. That she wasn't just crazy in love.

"I don't know when it started exactly. This attraction has probably been slumbering in my mind and my heart from the very first time I saw you."

Sara reached out to touch his hand that lay between them. He grabbed her hand as if it were his lifeline.

"Do you remember?"

"Vividly", Sara replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"It was a Thursday, first class of the day. It wasn't my first guest lecture, but I was anxious because I wanted to impress you Harvard kids. You probably couldn't tell, but I was nervous as hell that day."

"You were impressive", Sara said with a smile on her face. She hadn't let go of his hand and he had no intention of removing his from hers as he continued reminiscing.

"You sat on the second row, smack in the middle. You wore a white shirt with red flowers on it and your hair was curlier back then."

Grissom smiled at her.

"You were very eager to learn, kept bombarding me with questions. You surprised me, caught me off guard even. But it was refreshing. I'd done a number of guest lectures before, at several Ivy League schools, but I couldn't seem to pass on my enthusiasm to the students. Most of them were just grossed out by the first mention of maggots, I guess."

"I can tell you, it wasn't your fault, cause you were a very devoted lecturer."

Sara squeezed his hand to punctuate her statement.

"Thanks."

They both fell silent for a moment.

"Sara", Grissom said, just liking the sound of her name on his lips. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to really taste her on his lips. He dismissed the thought. When he felt Sara's gaze on him, he blushed a little.

"Griss, we're still in the parking lot. Didn't you say something about taking me home?"

"I vaguely remember saying something like that", he joked as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Are you very tired?", Grissom asked as he turned onto the road.

"Huh?"

"I mean, would you like to have breakfast with me, or do you really want to go home?"

"Breakfast sounds nice", she replied, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in her brain that said she was operating on way to little sleep.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Trust me?"

Sara thought about it for a brief moment.

"Yes", she then said with conviction, "I trust you. Now tell me where we're going."

"Home", Grissom said and he glanced at her with a nervous smile gracing his features.

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"This is your home", Sara said as she got out of Grissom's Denali and followed him up the steps to his townhouse.

"Very observant, Miss Sidle."

"It's been years since I was last here."

"I'm painfully aware of that, dear", Grissom replied, only half joking. Even his oldest friend Catherine had called him on it once. In a heated argument she'd basically told him he was a sorry reclusive who was too afraid to let anybody into his life and would rather sit alone in his hermetically sealed home than take a chance and reach out to someone. Grissom couldn't argue with that. But he was trying to change. Maybe opening up to someone wasn't all that bad, especially if it was to someone he cared deeply about.

"Just make yourself comfortable, I'll start breakfast", Grissom said to Sara as they entered his house.

Grissom's place was in fact a townhouse, but it looked more like a loft. It had high ceilings and an open plan design. The walls were all white and grey, but most of them were covered with display cases, housing numerous butterflies and other insects. All of the specimens were labelled with their Latin appellation. The man truly was an entomologist pur sang. A leather couched sat in the living area, in front of it a glass coffee table on which at least a year's worth of forensic journals lay. Sara laughed internally as she perused Grissom's home. He was so predictable. It was funny how that warmed her heart.

"Blueberry pancakes ok for you?", Grissom called out from the kitchen, his voice pulling her from her musings.

She walked to the breakfast bar which served as a divider between the kitchen and the living area. She sat down on one of the bar stools.

"Sure."

"Can you make us some coffee, while I get the pancakes going?"

"Yes, sir", Sara said, smiling as she stepped into the kitchen. It was a rather narrow space and Grissom had to step back to let her pass. They bumped into each other awkwardly nevertheless, which made them both laugh nervously.

"Coffee's in the cupboard."

"Right."

"Not much has changed here", Sara told Grissom as she poured water into the coffee maker.

"I like it this way. It's one thing in my life I can count on, that when I get home everything is exactly the way I like it, exactly the way I left it. No surprises."

"Some people might say that's boring."

"Some people might say that's stable."

"Oh well, semantics", Sara replied. The smirk on her face told him she was kidding.

"Are you here to make trouble for yourself, Miss Sidle?", Grissom said with a mock serious expression.

"Hey, you abducted me."

"You watch yourself, Missy."

Grissom waved his spoon in front of her to punctuate his statement, effectively casting droplets of dough on her face and shirt.

"Hey!"

Grissom couldn't help but laugh at her indignation.

"I'm sorry. Here."

He grabbed a towel to help her clean up. Sara moved to take the thing from him, but he refused.

"Let me."

Grissom gently wiped the hardening dough from Sara's cheeks and neck in slow strokes, lingering a little longer than absolutely necessary. He stared into her eyes and she gazed back, getting more anxious with every second he spent in her personal space.

"There. All better. And I apologize."

"You don't look sorry", Sara replied as she stared into his grinning face.

"Well, I am."

"Mm."

"You know, I could throw your shirt in the washer, it'll be clean before breakfast is over."

"Oh, so first you abduct me, then you attack me with dough and now you expect me to strip?"

They both burst out in frantic laughter at the idiocy of the situation. They seemed so comfortable together all of a sudden. It was a little unnerving and yet reassuring at the same time. Maybe the key to this situation was that they needed to relax, Grissom thought. Maybe they could build a new kind of trust and move on, leaving all their worries and their pain behind.

"Seriously", Grissom said when they calmed down, "You can wear one of my shirts. Come on."

Sara followed Grissom, but lingered in the doorway to the bedroom, not quite sure if she should go in there. It was probably hard enough for that man to invite someone into his home, let alone that they'd invade his bedroom. 'When was the least anyone was in that room, anyway?', Sara wondered. She quickly dismissed the thought. Imagining Grissom with someone else, making love, was too much for her heart.

"This ok?"

He held out a white short sleeved shirt.

"It's fine, thanks."

"You can change in here. The washer's in the laundry room at the end of the hall, just drop in there, when you're done", he said as he walked out.

Closing the door behind her, Sara glanced around Grissom's bedroom, analysing the room like it was a crime scene. It was an occupational hazard, she knew. Sunlight filtered through Venetian blinds. A queen sized double bed stood against the right wall, covered with anthracite coloured sheets. Very manly, very sexy, Sara thought, immediately banning more lascivious images from her brain. More journals lay on the nightstand on the left side of the bed. So Grissom slept on that side, Sara automatically figured. She mentally shook herself. No more of that, just change your shirt and get out of here.

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Grissom's words hitched in his throat as Sara reappeared in the kitchen. There was something incredibly alluring about seeing her in his shirt. The fact that the black color of her bra shone through the sheer fabric of the shirt a little, contributed nicely to that.

"Pancakes 'bout ready? I'm starving."

"The coffee's ready and there's a plate on the counter, so you can get started if you want. I'm just going to cook up a couple more."

"Nah, I'll wait for you."

She sat down on a stool facing Grissom's back. He poured more dough in the pan.

"Smells great. I didn't know you cooked."

"It's just breakfast. But I really do cook well, too. You should come around for dinner some time", Grissom said without turning around, apparently very focused on his blueberry pancake in the pan.

"Right", Sara replied, positively amazed. Was that an invitation?

"That was an invitation, you know."

Grissom turned around to gauge her reaction.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. Would you like to have dinner with me?"

She made a show out of playing like she needed to debate the issue, taking her time to answer.

"Is it too late?", Grissom asked worriedly.

"Well, I think it's a little too early for dinner, don't you?"

Grissom looked at her smiling face, uncomprehending. Then it hit him.

"Oh. Funny."

He smirked at her.

"I'd love to." She sighed. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

"Can we make a fresh start? You and I?"

Grissom took her hand.

"I don't know", Sara replied honestly, staring at their hands again.

"Sara, I know I've hurt you in the past. And I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. But I want to make it up to you. If you'll let me."

"So you want to forget all that happened."

"No. I just want to show you that it can be different. I made mistakes before, mistakes that I can't change now, but I'd like to try and compensate for them."

Sara raised an eyebrow at him. Conveying a meaning that he understood very well.

"You know, we'll start with dinner. We can take it from there. See what happens. How does that sound?"

"Like something I've been longing to hear for a very long time."

Grissom grabbed her other hand.

"I know."

Her brown eyes locked with his bright blue ones.

"I'm a little slow sometimes", Grissom said apologetically.

"A little."

Her smile was so sweet it made him want to kiss it. And that is exactly what he did.

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TBC?...

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