Sweet Dreams
Summary: Overheard conversations get Grissom thinking. Answer to the Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided, with 1,000 words to fill in the rest.
A/N: Potential spoilers through Season 4. Thanks to Ann, Marlou and Burked for their beta services!
Disclaimer: Yes, I really do own CSI, and I like to torment everyone. And I have some nice beachfront property for sale in Arizona.
Rating: Let's go safe with PG – 13.

"I agree with Sara on this," Jacqui said, "chocolate is better than sex."

Grissom replayed the overheard snippet of conversation in his mind again, as if it would eventually divulge some inner meaning. On the surface, the comment was patently absurd. How could anyone believe chocolate was better than sex? The physical drive to procreate was one of the primal urges that allowed the species to survive.

Chocolate was just … well, chocolate – a bitter alkaloid made palatable by massive infusions of sugar and milk. True, it did cause the body to release endorphins, and it inhibited the breakdown of the neurotransmitter anadamide, resulting in longer periods of euphoria, but it couldn't compare to sex.

Sara must have been facetious. It was probably like those inane lists that people forwarded in e-mail. 'It's still good when it's soft', 'Size doesn't matter with chocolate', and 'It's okay to bite the nuts' were probably the main 'benefits' that could be claimed.

She had to have been joking.

The alternative was too painful otherwise.

It would mean all her other physical encounters had been … unsatisfactory. While the thought of Sara with another man was disturbing, the idea she'd never derived pleasure and contentment was even more so. She deserved to be happy.

After countless repetitions, the claim was as senseless as when he first heard the fingerprint technician relaying the comment to Greg. Once he walked into the lab, both techs had dropped the subject, knowing Grissom preferred them to stay focused on their jobs. Normally, this would have pleased him, but this was one conversation he wished they had continued. The timing or context could help explain the comment. They weren't going to talk about sex while he was present. Unfortunately, his reputation preceded him.

He'd spent a lifetime mastering the ability to remain distant from others, but lately he'd been considering the wisdom of it. He had not only ensured he was kept outside of the office gossip, but he'd ended up hurting Sara in the process.

If asked, he'd say it wasn't intentional. It might even sound honest. Deep down, though, he had his doubts. Had he hurt Sara, hoping she'd stay away? Grissom wanted to believe he wasn't that petty. Even if it had been accidental, Sara had been burnt by his fears. Could he ever convince her to have faith in him again?

Grissom shifted painfully as other pieces of overheard conversations drifted to the forefront of his thoughts.

"He is such a freakin' idiot! Look at the mess he got himself into this time. Gil did this to himself! What is it with you guys? Does the testosterone kill brain cells?"

Of course, that had been Catherine.

"Hey! Some of us are just slow learners! Gil, well, I don't think he knows he's in the wrong classroom. Yet." Snarkiness with a Jersey accent – had to have been Brass.

Grissom hadn't even asked them what he'd done to warrant that tirade. Even he wasn't that socially unaware. It didn't mean he liked being the subject of office gossip.

"Can you imagine living your life all alone? How does Grissom do it?"

"You don't know what Grissom does, man. Just 'cause he doesn't talk about it, doesn't mean it ain't happening."

Warrick's statement of the obvious to Nick had brought a brief feeling of paternal pride.

"You actually believe that?"

"Hell, no. He's tossed away his chances."

How sharper than a serpent's fang to have a thankless child! Chalk another one up to the Bard.

Had he really tossed away all his chances? There was only one way to find out. When Sara came back from vacation, he'd have to make a concerted effort to win her back. More than anything, Grissom wanted her to be happy. He'd do whatever it took to accomplish that. Yes, pleasing Sara would be his new goal.

"Mr. Grissom."

That voice was new. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the source of it.

"Mr. Grissom. I need you to wake up now."

Wake up? That might explain why he couldn't locate the speaker. With a groan, he forced his eyes to open, blinking at a white-hatted face in front of him. Nurse. Hospital.

Hospital? What was he doing in the hospital?

"Good morning, Mr. Grissom! We're so happy to see you awake! Here, take a sip of this!"

A Styrofoam cup of ice water was shoved into his face with entirely too much enthusiasm, but his throat was parched, so he gladly took a long sip.

"You just rest now." Rest? Didn't she just wake him up? "The doctor will be here in a few minutes. I'll see if I can find you some breakfast. Thank you."

Huh? Who had she thanked on her way out? Lifting his head, Grissom was surprised to find his room spinning somewhat haphazardly.

"Easy."

That voice he recognized.

"Sara?"

"Hey. Take it easy. Get some rest."

What was this odd insistence that he get rest? If it had been necessary, shouldn't they have left him asleep?

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"Why am I here?" he asked, surprised to find every muscle in his body in pain.

"Greg found you passed out in your office burning up with a fever."

"A bug? It's nothing," Grissom insisted, trying to sit up again, only to grab onto Sara when the room started rotating again.

"Three days ago. You're not fine. Lie back!"

"What do I have?" he asked wearily.

"Don't know," Sara said, shrugging as she held the cup of water to him. "Not family. Cath thinks you got an infection from tasting a piece of evidence? She was pretty pissed about it. Couldn't believe you were that dumb."

Grissom took the water, forcing his lips to move upward in an attempt to smile. Even they hurt. What had he contracted?

"Thanks. Why are you here?" When he heard the cup set heavily on the table, Grissom cajoled his eyes to open again. "You're supposed to be on vacation. They shouldn't have called you in to take over for me."

"Paul from days is covering for you."

"Oh." She was here by choice then? "Weren't you in California?"

"It's amazing. You can travel in both directions on the highways now."

"Why did you come back?" he whispered hopefully.

"Good question."

Wasn't he supposed to be winning Sara over? This probably wasn't a great start. "I'm glad you're here, Sara. It's nice to have a visitor. You shouldn't have ruined your vacation for me."

"The guys have been stopping in. And I'm still on vacation."

"It has to be boring, though. I'll have to make it up to you."

"Uh, yeah."

Grissom narrowed his eyes. Sara was definitely blushing. Why?

"Uhm, you were babbling something about that earlier," she said. "That's how I knew you were coming around. I got the nurse."

Inside, Grissom was smiling, despite his facial muscles deciding to go on strike. He must have been talking about his plans on showing Sara how much he cared for her, that he was serious about it. She probably didn't believe him; considering how he treated her, he didn't blame her for being hesitant.

"I was serious, Sara. What?" Why was she chuckling?

"I'm just wondering how you plan to show me chocolate is overrated."

How did he keep getting himself into these situations?

The End