"Playing the Waiting Game" - Keija.
PG, CSI, Grissom/Sara, Spoiler Alert: Invisible Evidence. A possible take on Sara's thoughts during 'that' scene in IE.
It started out as a theory, as an experiment.
She'd acted out theories with the others before, she'd acted out theories with Grissom before, but this felt different. Because he felt different to her now, not just because of the beard, and their relationship felt different. She hadn't considered before how much of Grissom's reticence with her over the last year could have been down to his failing hearing, until he came back to them acting more like the Grissom he'd been when she first arrived in Vegas. She couldn't deny how much it had hurt when she found out he was gone, gone for an operation that she hadn't known he needed. She'd always been convinced that the connection she felt with Grissom would alert her to any serious problems ... but the problems had been there and she'd been too wrapped up in herself and her own feelings to notice.
She'd had to wait for Catherine to tell the team what was happening and how long Grissom would be away Ð that had caused her no end of emotional angst. She was angry with Grissom for not telling her what was happening to him, angry at herself for not noticing, angry at Catherine for being the one that Grissom told; even if logically she knew Catherine had needed to know, since she was the one taking over while he was gone. She'd been angry about that too, even if only briefly. She got along much better with Catherine these days and they were friends, but Sara didn't like letting Catherine be the boss. Warrick had pulled her to one side over it once or twice and eventually Sara had stopped redirecting all her anger towards Catherine and started focusing back on her job.
Now he was back with a different look and a different attitude and she didn't exactly know how to react. She'd been struggling to find the right words to say; she hadn't found them and now he was standing so close to her, his hands gripping her wrists as she mock-struggled against him, she the victim and he the aggressor. Only she didn't feel like a victim and he didn't feel like an aggressor; they felt like Grissom and Sara, trapped in the next step of their eternal dance. Words, she thought desperately, I should be speaking words. She searched her mind, scrambling. What was the next sentence? Oh yeah ...
"He put his hands on the sheets for leverage." Her voice was unsteady. Please Gris, she prayed silently. Do not pick now to start being able to read my mind. He was so close and her skin was tingling where his fingers gripped her wrists. Now he was letting go; she was afraid to let him stop touching her, but she was more afraid of what would happen if he didn't.
She couldn't resist him, she never could.
His hands travelled downwards, coming to rest against the sheet on either side of her body. Oh god, this isn't better, she thought desperately. She'd thought it would be easier to manage the feelings running through her body if he wasn't touching her, but the movements of his hands had brought his body even closer to hers and when she turned her head his face was only inches from hers, his eyes drawing hers magnetically and keeping them there.
"Like this." His voice seemed lower, rougher.
Ohhhh yeah. Like that. Sara let her thoughts wander, indulging in a moment of having Grissom all to herself without any of the others around. It was their moment and even the lab ceased to exist. The intensity of her feelings overwhelmed her and she had to do something, say something, before she gave in to the desperate urge to kiss him.
Freeing herself slowly from the position they were in, she began to babble about her application form, using the words to place some distance between them. She hadn't forgotten the sting of his rejection when she invited him to dinner, or the sadness and hurt his silent disappearance from the lab had caused her. She'd made enough moves and her confidence in his feelings still wasn't at an all time high; he had to make the next move. It was something she needed from him and she was prepared to wait for him to give it to her.
She'd gotten good at playing the waiting game.
She could wait a little longer.