Disclaimer: I have no rights to CSI or any Damien Rice songs.
She lay there for a minute to relish the comfort of her bed and then opened her eyes. She was still alone in her apartment. She turned and stuffed her face into her pillow and let the tears stream.
And then she reached over to the nightstand. She speed dialed number one.
"Grissom...Hello? Hello?"
She sniffeled twice before putting her face up to the phone, "Hey, Grissom."
"Sara? Is everything okay?"
Sniffle, "Just fine."
"Honey, are you crying? Hold on, I'll be right over." His voice was so full of concern that it made her cry a little bit harder.
"Grissom? Grissom?" Too late he had hung up.
She laid there another minute until she realized that Grissom was coming over. Oh, God! Grissom was coming over. She jumped out of her bed and threw a tank top, sweatshirt, and pajama pants on. She went to the bathroom and checked that she was presentable.
She found it a little funny that she was going to tell the man she was just fantasizing about that she didn't mean to call him. It was just a mistake.
She waited in her living room kitchen area that made up her apartment. He was there in five mintues.
He knocked, "Sara?"
She opened, "Hey."
His eyes looked for any physical maladies, "Are you okay?"
She nodded, "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to call you. I must have hit the button accidentaly."
He looked harder at her, at her face, "You were crying."
She took a tiny breath, "Look, I'm sorry I called you. It was not intentional."
"Are you sure?"
Sniffle, "Yeah." Her throat had started to close up. She nodded enthusiastically.
"Okay. See you tomorrow, then," He smiled warily, and turned to walk down the hall.
She leaned against the door, willing him to open up to her, longing for him to come inside and hold her. Her fantasies that she had long time persued now just made her upset and full of melancholy. Her eyes burrowed into the back of his skull.
Before he stepped on the first stair, he turned. Her eyes were staring right at him with such desire, such love, such dissapointed sadness that it broke his own heart to leave. She was crying, he knew it. He wanted so badly to know what made her ache like this. He turned back to the stairs and stood there. She hadn't gone inside.
She was waiting for him to leave. She was waiting for him to leave her again. He took a step forward and turned around. She watched him. He took tiny tentative steps forward, as if to not scare an animal.
He could see the tears in her eyes when he reached her front door again.
"Hi."
"Hey," She returned softly.
"Can I come in?"
She nodded, "Yeah."
She opened the door and they both went inside. Sara was hugging herself around the torso. He took in her deep purple walls and all the stuff that was around. It was so warm and welcoming.
He stepped in further.
"You look tired," He told her over his shoulder.
She smiled sadly at him. Too bad he couldn't see it.
He walked over to her stereo by her computer, flicking through the cd collection she had aquired. He put one in. A song Sara didn't really remember wound softly aroud her. Grissom came back over to her, and intwined their hands. His other hand went to her lower back, pulling her in closer to him. Her other hand wound aroud his middle.
We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
The moved in centimeter steps in slow circles.
We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
She listened to the music and buried her face into Grissom's neck. He felt as the slow hot tears meld into his skin. His hand ran across her back, soothing her as best he could and holding her closer.
He felt as the tears came faster, and her breath grew more ragged. She gulped in air and sobbed it out. Several tears rolled out of the corner of Grissom's eyes.
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
The song played over and over, on repeat, until her breathing calmed down and he knew she was ready for some sleep. He led her to the bedroom, and saw by the already mussed sheets that she must have already been there once today. He gently tugged the sweatshirt from her.
She looked up at him, ready to be hurt again when he walked out of the door.
Instead he pulled his own shoes off. And socks. And jeans. He walked over to the other side of the bed and turned down the sheet, sliding in himself.
He wrapped his arms around her. She moved closer to him, pushing her face into his chest. They both drifted off, but not before Sara could hear the small, "I Love you."
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
That night Sara went into work feeling emotionally exhausted, but in a warm, fuzzy place. She kept replaying everything again and again. She would have thought it was a dream if she hadn't found the letter in her locker.
The boys were joking around and asking what everyone did over their weekend and she opened her locker to a white envelope with her name scribbled oh so sweetly on it.
She opened it and found a small length of paper. 'It's not that we're scared, it's just that it's delicate'
She had such a smile on her face that she can't remember having ever before. She had to close her locker, take a deep breath, and see her love in his perfect setting.