Gil Grissom watched the ambulance pull away, and for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, a full breath passed through his lips. The sound of his exhalation was joined by another and without thinking, he knew it was Sara Sidle. Turning his head to look at her, the rest of his colleagues started walking towards their cars. Only Sara hung back, crossing her arms and taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Her gaze was focused on the almost-grave, and she was visibly shaken.
Without thinking, Grissom crossed to her and pulled her into his arms. The look of surprise on Sara's face was almost comical and he let out a laugh despite himself. A smile appeared on Sara's face and a giggle escaped her lips. Soon the two were laughing for the first time since they got that envelope. The laughter died down and it was replaced with an uneasy silence in which Grissom and Sara backed away from each other. Catherine called Grissom's name and Greg called Sara's. The boundaries of their relationship were set back to their normal positions. They turned away from each other and started walking towards the cars. Grissom couldn't help but turn around surreptiously and watch her walk back. When Greg put his arm around her and Grissom saw that she made an attempt to shake it off, there was a flash of jealousy, followed by an undeniable sigh of relief.
Grissom knew from that day on, he would fall asleep on his desk and visualize every one of his CSIs in that predicament. However, that night the only CSI that entered his dreams was Sara. Sara wincing from the light. Sara taping her last words and putting that gun dangerously close to her. The sigh of relief that was emphatic enough to make him lightheaded when she shot out the light. The tears that came to his face when the ants bit her tender flesh. Her screams. It was always her screams that got him angry, sad, and scared at the same time in a bubble of fierce emotion that threatened to erupt from his lips in a keening cry.
Grissom jerked awake with a cry and a pain in his palms, realizing a moment later that he had been clenching his fists. He opened his hand slowly in front of his face in the light of the afternoon. The little half-moon indentations from his nails were deep, and he discovered one mark was bleeding. Groaning, he swung his legs to pad over to the bathroom. Taking a couple squares of toilet paper, Grissom pressed it into his hands and sat hard on the closed toilet seat. His elbows rested on his knees and his head hung in the aftershocks of the nightmare. If it didn't happen, he would be able to shake it off and reassure himself that it was just a fantasy. The horror that it had actually happened to one of his CSIs kept him on edge.
With an almost painful realization, he decided he couldn't wait anymore and neither could she. Carpe diem. Watching Nick on that screen made Grissom realize how potentially perilous this job was. It was the catalyst he needed. He needed to… needed to fix things.
Still clutching his makeshift compress, he picked up his cell phone and dialed her number without thinking. It rang only once and Sara answered with a half-hidden panic in her voice.
"Sara. I'm not calling to tell you anything bad," he reassured her.
"Nick's fine! Cath and Warrick too?"
"They're fine. I just… need you right now." The words had come easily and that ease scared him.
A long silence passed before Sara spoke again. "Do…Do you want me to come over there?"
"Yes." The answer was out before he had a chance to think about it. Any hesitation on his part was ignored by the adrenaline rush he felt.
After "see you soon"s, Grissom and Sara disconnected.
Grissom threw on the first pair of jeans he found and threw on one of his t-shirts from the bug fair. He didn't think Sara would mind. Even though she hated bugs, she wouldn't begrudge him of something he loved, the exact opposite of what he had done for the past five years.
The doorbell rang and Grissom almost ran across the apartment to answer it. The door opened and an obviously red-eyed Sara stumbled across the doorway into his arms. With a smile, he realized for the first time, he reached out to her with open arms.
"Hey."
"Hey."
The embrace was all they needed. Sometimes, when you were able to read someone, actions are all that's needed. And Grissom had finally become an open book.
Lifting her head from his chest, she suddenly found her lips meet his. It was one of the most amazing feelings ever, this feeling of everything being put back in its place. They broke apart and Sara wore the biggest smile known to mankind.
"It took a near-death experience," she said thoughtfully.
"Your near-death. At least in my nightmare," he admitted.
Her smile turned to a flirty smirk. "I'm in Gil Grissom's dreams? Pinch me, I think I'm dreaming." The smirk turned into a look of surprise when she realized he had done just that. "Grissom, I know you're a man of science, but that was somewhat rhetorical!"
The two laughed. "Only you would use rhetorical in a normal sentence," he remarked quietly.
"I'm a word nerd. A geek."
"No, you're my geek."
He pressed his lips to hers and knew that the feeling was mutual.