~AWAKENING ~

By Anansay

April 19, 2003

He stood behind her. She could feel him barely touching her. They were staring at the same spot: the sun just peeking over the horizon. It had been a busy shift, their bodies ached from withholding the tension and their minds screamed for release. As Sara and Grissom had walked out of the building – he behind her, it just happened that way – they had both walked to their separate vehicles, heads down low - too heavy to lift even to bid each other good rest at home. But when Grissom had raised his head to speak to Sara, he had stopped and stared at her. Confusion lit on her face until she realized he had been staring past her. When she had turned to look, nothing could pull her face from the sight before them. The sky was taking on a light pink hue from the sun's emergence. And as they had stopped to watch, Grissom coming up behind Sara, the sun had begun its rise, showering everything with its rays of light. They had stood there, mouths gaping and eyes wide and watering.

His hand came around to rest on her hip, just a light caress – a connection between two people who had just witnessed one of nature's most awe inspiring moments of purity. And then his chest was against her back and they were touching. His other hand landed on her other hip and then his breath could be felt on her neck. They stood that way, watching the sun make its presence known, washing away the grime of the night's uncouth activities.

It is said the sun sings its way past the horizon, a small diminutive song that can only be heard by those who truly take the time to stop and listen and hear it. As Sara's eyes closed on their own, its melodious notes came to her, long sonorous tones of immense weight, with trilling ones surrounding it, creating a spectrum of sound that forced its way past her tense body and settling itself with her soul; her body ringing with its harmony.

"Do you hear it?" came Grissom's whispered voice right by her ear.

And his throaty voice only added to the symphony playing in her head. She nodded. "Yes…"

His arms tightened around her, holding her to him in a gentle embrace, like long lost lovers. And then his lips drew near and before she could register it, they were touching her skin and sending sparks through her body. They wrapped around her earlobe, gently sucking it into his mouth as his hand came around to rest on her abdomen, his fingers splayed as though to maximize the contact.

Her eyes closed as the sensations overtook her and she leaned into his lips, wanting for it never to end. Her hands came to rest over his, holding him there, keeping that frail connection steady. His lips were driving her senses away, leaving her raw - feeling and responding. Her breathing quickened as her heart began to race in her chest. The vein throbbed in tempo, speaking an ancient form of morse code as his tongue traced the faint creases of her neck down to her collarbone. Thoroughly lost in the sensations coursing through her body, Sara was unaware of the small groan that escaped her lips, but which went straight to Grissom, causing his own heart to skip a beat before resuming a more presto rhythm, his fingers pressing into Sara's hips as he turned her body toward his.

She turned in his arms, opening her eyes and finding his were pools of passion as he gazed at her from the nakedness of his soul in yearning for hers. There was no more denying that which had always been present but never acknowledged. It was laid bare before them in the glory of the morning sun's rays hitting them with the force of a god's firm hand. Grissom stared into Sara's eyes - his walls now too heavy to bring back up - and he stared like a pauper begging for a crumb of stale bread. Her hand came up and caressed his cheek, her fingers trailing along his skin before leaning into him and brushing her lips across his. In an act begotten of years of repression, his lips parted and his mouth took possession of hers like a thirsty man gulping madly from a fountain of fresh water. He tasted and he took, his tongue mounting an ever-increasing tango with hers. His hands wrapped around her waist held her to him with such vehemence as to almost crush her slight frame to his muscular body, endeavoring to keep her there with him forever. Her fingers were in his hair, his curls wrapping tightly around them as though these too were part of the master plan to keep her there with him, every fiber in his body alive with the desire to never be without her.

She could feel the heat and the trembling in his body and it only served to heighten her already inflamed soul to evermore fiery heights. Her body pressed into his, molding itself as though to create a seamless fusion, like the last piece to a puzzle that allows the picture to sit in comfortable completeness. He was that which made her life complete, just by being in her life, a part of it, she was more whole than at any time in her life. And at this point, the wholeness felt only more whole, more complete, more exquisite.

And then, abruptly, the pieces fell away as he pulled back. Her eyes popped open. There was fear and apprehension on his face and at once her heart was a stone in her chest: heavy and dead. Confusion, puzzlement and then sadness crept into her being.

He stared at her like a deer caught in headlights, fear on his face, immobilizing his body. His hands dropped to his sides as though her skin were a hot iron singeing his hands. He blinked and swallowed, looking away from her and then back again.

"We'd… better be getting home…" he said, the words pushing through his lips as though they were the hardest thing for him to say.

Sara licked her lips - she could still taste him - and folded her arms over her chest in an unconscious gesture of protection. "Uh… yeah." But she didn't move; and neither did he. Giving him one last confused questioning look, she bowed her head and spun on her heels and headed to her car as fast as her legs could take her.

Grissom watched her go with a mounting feeling of chaos building in his head, and solidifying into a migraine. His mind went over what had just occurred and he tried to apply some sense of logic to it all, but it eluded him like a shadow at night. He couldn't grasp any reasoning behind his actions. It had just seemed so natural to lean down and kiss her like that. And then… she had turned around and he'd seen that look of passion in her eyes.

That look of passion… for him? It was a thought he had not really given much attention. He really didn't know what she thought or felt. He climbed into his own car and slammed the door. Grabbing the steering wheel he rested his head on it with his eyes closed and took a deep breath. He knew he had to get home soon and get to his medication before the migraine decided to overtake his life for a while. With shaking hands, he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.

He had sequestered himself so totally in his work of late, preferring the logical solitude of studying cases. It wasn't until just now that he realized it wasn't the work that had beckoned such intensity from him, but that it had provided a convenient escape and hiding place to keep him away from what he'd felt growing inside him: an attraction to Sara. Before he could take that final step with her and openly declare his deep affection - and love for her? - he had pushed her away and hid behind work, a safe place to hide - no one could accuse him of slacking in that department, the workaholic that he was. But it was only a cover; that realization hit him with a force that nearly blinded him and his foot reached for the brake pedal to avoid a collision as his mental vision cleared.

He pulled off to the side of the road and took deep breaths to let his heart stop racing and come to a more even tempo. He'd been hiding from her all along. All those cases he'd handed out, it wasn't just happenstance that he and Sara hadn't worked one together in so long. He'd tried to tell himself excuses through it all, and he actually believed them! That was the scariest part of all - he'd believed his own lies! That she needed to work more with the others - needed to learn to work with the others; that she needed to learn to work solo; that he was needed more at the office than in the field; that he didn't want her to find out about his hearing that way. So many excuses… so many lies. He continued driving toward his place, his migraine urging him onward.

And this morning, the sun's rays seemed to strip the lies away and reveal the truth finally, allowing him to express his true feelings and emotions. And without a second thought, he'd followed them, as though blinded by the light of the sun's truth rays. Or finally seeing.

He pulled into his own parking space and nearly ran toward his door, jamming the key in, yanking the door open and then slamming behind him - which was not a good idea at the moment. He found the pills and with shaky hands poured himself a couple and downed them with water. Then he lay on his couch - feet propped up on the armrest, arm over his eyes - and tried to rest his weary muscles.

But his heart kept hammering in his chest, and his mind kept bringing back images of her in his arms, of her lips pressed against his, her body against his. And his head wouldn't stop pounding. He sighed and rearranged himself on the couch and tried again to rest, but nothing worked. Finally, his body exhausted from work and his mind exhausted from keeping her images from it, he fell into a fitful sleep, populated by images and sounds and feelings of her as she danced a wanton waltz through his mind.

~*~

Meanwhile, Sara sat on her couch staring unseeing at the television, herself trying to get Grissom from her mind. Her confusion was a total body experience. He was paramount in her mind and no matter what she did, he was always there: his eyes, his smile, his lips - soft and yielding and yet strong and demanding. She took a quivering breath and ran her hand over her face. It was a fluke, she needed herself to believe it. Another harrowing shift and two people found themselves needing to feed off each other in ways they'd never attempted before. And yet… a part of her knew it was very out of character for Grissom to do such a thing as he'd done. She'd seen the passion in his eyes, she'd felt the way his arms wrapped possessively around her body pulling her to him as his mouth ravaged hers --

She jumped from the couch and went to her window, whipping it up and sticking her head. The cool morning air hit her face like a slap, bringing her harshly back to reality. Taking great gulps of the crisp air, she tried to force her own heart to slow down, not entirely liking the tingling feeling in her fingertips and her toes, and the light-headedness that hadn't left her since the parking lot outside of CSI headquarters.

Why had Grissom suddenly given in at that particular time? Given in… now where had that thought come from? Given in to what? Wasn't it sheer selfishness to assume that he shared the same infatuation for her that she did for him? She tried to push the thought from her head but it kept finding little loop holes in her rational and popping up here and there.

She decided she couldn't live with the mystery like this. One kiss does not a relationship make, but it did mean something. Nicky had never kissed her, Warrick neither. Only Grissom…

Sara… so many unanswered whys…

Since I met you…

I have you…

I need you…

I want you…

With a determined sigh, she slapped her coat around her body, grabbed her keys and left, slamming the door behind her.

~*~

Arriving at his condominium, she paused for the first time since leaving her place. She realized with a sickening thud in her chest that she'd never been in his place before. For the three years that they'd worked together, not once at he invited her over for even a measly cup of coffee. Nothing truly personal had ever occurred between them - until that morning. And here she was, about to knock on his door and demand an explanation. Was she truly in control of her own sanity? Why not just leave and chalk it up to a moment in time, best left in time and forgotten?

She turned to leave, but found her feet wouldn't obey. Her mind didn't want to be here, but her body had other ideas. She stared around herself and wondered just where things were going to lead after this? Could she really just walk away and forget all about… this morning? The Kiss? It tore at her heart to think a crack had opened and she'd been allowed to peek inside and now she was about to turn away and try to forget what she'd seen and felt.

She was a person who valued order and organization in her life. Things had always been planned to happen to happen the way she'd wanted them to, from where to place her teddy bears as a child to eventually being accepted at Harvard and acing her program. There was a need to know where things were going to go, and how they were going to happen. And this was one of them.

Bracing herself for whatever lay in story for her beyond this door, she raised her fist and knocked.

~*~

With a groan, Grissom rolled over, taking his arm from his eyes and squinting at the light streaming in from the window above his couch. Nobody ever knocked on his door at this time. All this neighbors knew he worked nightshift and slept during the day. With a sigh and another heavy groan, he rolled off the couch and stumbled to the door, pulling it open before checking the peep hole. He wanted the other person to see that they'd disturbed him, maybe then they wouldn't stay long and he could get back to sleeping… and dreaming. No! not dreaming… was dangerous. Dreaming meant her.

The door resting open in his hands, he opened one eye and glared balefully at the intruder. Only to have the other eye snap open in surprise and his body to straighten subconsciously.

Sara was at his door and by her stance he determined it wasn't a social visit. She stared at him with a mixture of apprehension and determination, and he surmised he could guess the reason why.

"Uh… won't you come in?"

"Yes." She strode in with a purposeful gait, her eyes darting here and there, belying her stoic attitude. He watched her cross his living room floor and then turn around and face him. He closed the door and went to his couch, plunking himself down into in a graceless manner.

It was then that Sara noticed his attire: shirt partly undone and out of his pants, shoes and socks off, his hair unkempt as though… he'd been sleeping. She suddenly felt guilty for not considering that he might have been able to sleep, even though she couldn't. She lowered her eyes and wrung her hands together, suddenly at a loss for words to adequately describe her being here.

"Have a seat." Well, that was as good a start as any, she decided and joined him on his couch, though far enough away for her to keep what composure she still had left. "What can I do for you?" The coldness of his question caught her further off guard; she bit her lip.

"Uh…" she started, not meeting his eyes. Just what was she doing here anyway? :Yo, Griss! Just why did you kiss me this morning?: Yeah… right. Like that would accomplish anything! "What happened this morning?"

Now it was Grissom's turn to look away, feeling the blush slowly creep up his face. Yep, just as he'd thought, she came for answers. Answers he didn't have.

"This morning… uh… that was… something."

Sara turned to look at him. "Well, at least you and I agree on one thing. It was something alright. I'd like to know what kind of something it was… to you." She added the last part as a sort of pointed request. He looked at her, then just as quickly looked away again. How could he explain to her when he himself had no explanation that would satisfy himself? He'd given in… it was all he could come up with. But he couldn't tell her that. Never.

He took a deep breath and got up off the couch, his hand automatically going to his head: his migraine wasn't completely gone.

"Migraine?"

He shut his eyes to allow the pounding to settle again. "Yeah… it started… this morning." The last part came out before he realized the full implications of such a statement.

This morning? Sara thought. It was what she'd needed to hear. This morning had given him a migraine, certainly not the kind of response a person would have if it'd been a wanted thing to happen. She rose from the couch. "I'm sorry, Grissom. Sorry I bothered you. You were obviously sleeping. I'll… uh… I'll see you at work tonight." She hurried to the door, just wanting to disappear from his sight forever. Her embarrassment was reaching monumental proportions.

"Sara, wait!" Grissom called to her. She stopped at the door, unable to move, unwilling to see his face.

He reached her in a few steps, his hand grabbed her arm. "Don't go. You don't understand. This… morning didn't give me migraine… at least not why you think."

Her head turned slightly at his words but she still refused to face him. Her breathing had quickened, partly in her zest to be gone, and partly in response to his request that she stay. Certainly, if he regretted this morning, he'd have let her leave. "Look, I'm sorry for coming over. I shouldn't have. We both need our sleep. This morning was… a momentary lapse of reasoning… on both our parts."

"Was it?" his soft voice asked.

"Wasn't it?" she countered.

The silence that came from him was heavy with unspoken meaning. "No."

Her head came up as her mind digested that one small little word, whispered so quietly she almost didn't hear it. She turned around to face him, her eyes slowly coming around to meet his - and she caught her breath. He was staring at her - his eyes so full of emotions their colour was darkened to a midnight blue. His hand came up and rested on her face, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her lips.

"I can't lie to you," he said, looking at her lips before returning to her eyes. "This morning did mean something to me, only… I can't explain it. It was something… I'd wanted to do… for some time now." Sara couldn't tear her eyes away from him, his hand was creating havoc with her senses. "And… it just seemed… right."

"Grissom…"

"Shh…" His breathing was ragged now, and his thumb was still on her lips, as were his eyes. He advanced his body toward hers and she trembled. The memory of being against him came back in full force and she heard herself moan as her eyes closed. Then his lips were on hers, gentle and caressing. And his hand went to the back of her head as his other came around to her waist. Hers were on his chest, feeling his heart pounding steadily against her palm. The urgency of the moment - the not wanting it to end again - took over and they deepened the kiss, forging to depths that had only been hinted at this morning. Grissom groaned against her lips, pulling her tightly against him. She could feel his arousal against her and her hands traveled to his curls, wanting to keep his lips against hers.

He backed her up against his door and pressed himself into her harder, needing to feel her entire body against his. For so long he'd repressed these feelings and now they were coming out and nothing could stop them. His intense admiration, infatuation and love for the woman who had started out as a student and then a co-worker had only grown over the years. But he'd kept it hidden, tucked away inside his shell, hoping against hope that it might peter away some time into nothing and he wouldn't have to deal with it. But now it was out and there was nothing he could do but follow it wherever it should take him.

He didn't know where. Nor did he care. The only thing Grissom knew was that he wanted it to be with Sara. He never wanted to be without her. She was his reason for being; had been for the longest time. Longer than he dared think about. Whenever he needed a boost, he would call her. Later, it had become merely a thought: an image of her smiling face, or a memory of her voice to keep him going; personal communication had become strained of late, he knew. She'd been getting too close, he'd been letting too much seep through. He was showing. So he'd pushed her away. Now she was here, in his arms. And he wasn't letting go.

He kissed with as much abandon as he felt, giving in to everything within him. And she responded in kind, offering him her all, no reservations. It was a pivotal moment for them both, having yearned with no return for such a long time.

With great difficulty, Grissom pulled away from Sara, their hearts pounding, their breaths tremulous, their hands shaking on each other. He looked into her eyes and saw what he'd hoped would be there: a crossing of boundaries. He held her face in his hands, glorifying in the fact that he could now look deeply into her soul with no superficial excuses marring the moment. He felt his heart would burst if he continued being basked by her glory; he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

"God, I love you…" he heard himself saying.

Her hands caressed his face and her eyes closed as his words sunk into her being. She sighed a quivering sound and brought her lips to his in a gentle brush, and then smiled. "I know, Grissom… I know."