A/N: For the Unbound challenge. Need... sleep... can't... think of wittiness...
Update: Many thanks to OjosVerdes for the whole beetle thing... a fellow nitpicker ;). Then came the dilemma: keep it like that? Since it's from Sara's point of view, she's not likely to be exact in her thoughts. Or change it, to reflect her intrest in Gris, and how she bothers to learn things about his passion? So I reached a middle ground. Rejoice in the middleness or three simple letters that encompass all.
Author: Rachael
Rating: Let's stick with PG13, to be on the safe side.
Pairings: G/S
Disclaimer: I asked for the rights to CSI for my birthday, but, alas, it's come and gone and no CSI. Still holding out for Christmas though, until then, not mine.
Cause and Effect"Just close your eyes", he said. "This shouldn't hurt too much."
Sara flinched as the tweezers touched the back of her leg, as cold as only medical equipment could be. She spun around to look at the little black bug trapped between the points of the tweezers, wriggling. She only got a second's peek before Grissom held it up to the light, staring at it and basically ignoring everything else.
"Well... what is it?" Sara demanded, holding a cotton pad to the back of her leg to stop the bleeding. The bug had had just enough time to get a good hold in her skin before becoming Grissom's latest wondering. "I think I deserve to know what just ripped off half of the skin on my leg."
At first he didn't show any signs of answering, or even that he'd heard. After a few minutes, though, he spoke.
"It's a tick. Dermacentor andersoni to be exact. Rocky Mountain wood tick." His eyes focused on her face for a moment, and, inexplicably, Sara could hear her heart beating in her throat.
Maybe I'm coming down with something. I don't know how long it was on there; it could have been sucking my blood since yesterday. In fact, she thought, glaring at the long grass at her feet, there could be more.
She swatted unconsciously at the back of her legs, bringing her knees up to her chin so that her feet were on the chair and, more importantly, out of the grass.
His eyes slid back to the tick for a second before he turned around and sorted through his kit, looking for something. Sara felt a rush of indignation. He was looking after the bug before her? One of his CSIs? Her, of all people? Clamping down on her unruly thoughts, she checked her wound. She was concentrating so hard, she jumped when an antiseptic wipe and a bandage entered her line of sight. She looked up and took the wipe, rubbing a bit harder than intended, causing the wound to start bleeding again.
Hoping that Grissom had turned back to his bug, she held the pad against the bite again. No such luck; Grissom's mild voice spoke beside her.
"Why don't I take you back to the Tahoe and help you with that?"
Eyes to the ground, as some sort of excuse she muttered, "I'm not so big a fan of ticks myself." She rose and hop-skipped to the van, trying to evade the slightest possibility of any more bug bites. Grissom grabbed his kit and a loose jar before hurrying after her.
He managed to catch up to her about ten feet from the vehicle- literally. As he approached, she stopped and fell sideways, in an almost world-weary way. Before she lost consciousness, he heard her mumble something, but the words were lost as he half-carried, half-dragged her to the Tahoe. Holding her prone form against the side, he opened the back door and tried to carefully lay her stretched on the back seat. Unfortunately, she chose that moment to come to and began moving around, throwing Grissom off balance. He landed heavily on top of Sara, nose hammering into her ribs a few inches above her stomach.
Stunned, he lay there for a few seconds before Sara's feeble wriggling brought him back to his senses. He could feel her diaphragm expanding and contracting against his forehead, shallower and weaker than it should have been. Ignoring his body's unconscious resistance he forced himself up, trying to focus on anything but the feel of her beneath him. Propping himself against the back of the front seat, he reached his free hand out to feel her head. It was warm, very warm. She had a fever.
"Shit," he breathed. He felt her curl up beneath him, sending tingles through his body. She groaned, a weak, pathetic sound. Almost wriggling out of the backseat, he managed to get back out without crushing her and almost ran to the driver's side, taking out his cell phone as he did. Three rings were an eternity to him, and by the time Catherine picked up he was in the front seat and starting up the Tahoe.
"It's Grissom. Sara's sick with something and I'm taking her to the hospital."
He tuned out her murmurs, listening to Sara's laboured breathing. Turning around, he saw she was shivering. He hung up and shifted the SUV into gear, then stepped on the gas.
Motion. Something moving at her feet. White. Green. Something at her head. Black. A hand on hers.
Voices. Low murmurs. Getting louder...
"... thankfully, the fever has receded, but the rash will be there for a few more days. She will be very weak for a while, and she may have red eyes as well, but I think it's safe to say she'll come out of it no worse for wear.
Spasmodically, she twitched, alerting Grissom of her return to consciousness. He drew his hand back quickly.
I wish he would have kept his hand there...
Where did that thought come from?
Musing to herself in the privacy of her head, she gradually realized that three sets of eyes were focused on her. The doctor and the nurse retreated and left her alone with her supervisor.
"You got Rocky Mountain Spotted fever from the tick, and I almost thought..." he began, but stopped. Sara, still spacey, cut in.
"I thought it took longer for that to show." She said.
"Your immune system was taking a beating from all the sleepless nights." He said in an even voice. "At least you got a few good nights' sleep now."
"How long have I been in here?"
"Four days," he said.
Something didn't sound quite normal about his tone. "Were you here the whole time?"
"I... left to get food. Catherine took over. The experience will do her good."
Sara started to grasp some wild thought through the fog of her brain, but Grissom beat her to it.
"I need to get back to the lab. Get better, Sara."
He got up and left her, quite literally, with her mouth half open.
She muttered, "Okay, I guess that's settled then."
