Disclamer: tis a cruel, cruel world where i get to own nothing...
heres just a little something i threw together. tell me if ya like it. tell me if ya hate it. tell me anything.
There she sat out back behind the lab on a couple of old crates. The smoke twirling up in thin wisps form her cigarette. She just stared out over the cold empty parking lot. It had been an excruciatingly hard case. Girl cried rape. Sara trusted her. Liar. Never trust a liar. But if Sara had known she was a liar, she wouldn't have trusted her.
He left the building. He and everyone were feeling that last one. Rape was always hard to deal with but when someone tried to pull the blanket over his eyes, it made him mad. Grissom only needed to clear his head, get some air, then he had paperwork and overtime calling his name. But then he saw her. Sitting there alone. Smoking. He knew Sara had quit. He made her. But she didn't look like a quitter now.
He approached her silently and sat down on an accompanying crate.
"I thought you quit." Grissom asked softly. Which surprised Sara. She expected him to be angry at her for smoking and for getting too involved in that case.
"I did." She responded as if she weren't really there. Grissom reached over and plucked the cancer stick out of her hand. Her head and eyes followed it, and her mouth opened as if to say something, to protest her stolen addiction.
But to Sara's surprise, instead of stomping it out, he took the cigarette and placed it in his mouth, then gave his own puff of smoke.
"That was a rough one. For all of us, Sara." He breathed. "I'm not going to say it because I think you know. Plus it would be hypocritical; I was overly involved as well."
Sara looked over at him and smiled. Leave it to Grissom to say precisely the right thing or precisely the wrong thing, and right now it was the first.
"Thanks Griss. That means more to me than any lecture. Ya know, I give myself such a hard time anyway. When you yell at me on top of that it just makes me mad at you. I appreciate that you're here." She said.
Grissom moved closer to Sara and wrapped his arm around her waist.
"Sara I'm not lecturing you. But please, give me your pack. You know you're just looking to a substitution. Something to take away the pain. Please Sara, if you die, it would kill me. Maybe…could you find a nonfatal diversion?" his stormy ocean blue eyes were pleading softly.
"Like what? What could I choose that would qualify as 'nonfatal'"? Sara questioned, the words rubbed her the wrong way a little bit. Even though he had said it wasn't a lecture, it sure sounded that way. Except for the ending…but that must be 'I'm hiding my real feelings' Grissom, whom she was very familiar with.
"How about me?" Grissom replied so softly he couldn't hear himself.
"You?"
With a shy smile he murmured "I'll try not to kill you…"
His smile was returned and as the two stood up their arms still wrapped tightly around each other, Grissom felt Sara slip the cardboard box, missing only one cigarette, into his pocket.