Your Life Is Calling
Disclaimer: Don't own any part of CSI. Wouldn't it be nice, though? Sigh.
Spoilers: Playing With Fire, Butterflied and Bloodlines. Umm...I think that's it.
Acknowledgements: To Hazeleyes- thanks for the beta, sweetie. I'll always have your back, 'cuz you are the wind beneath my wings! Sniff ;)
A/N: This for the members who put me on their author alert and favorite author lists. (and you know who you are!) I was both humbled and inspired. Thank-you.
Grissom snuck a surreptitious peek at his passenger as he increased the Denali's heat level in a futile attempt to ward off the chilly atmosphere currently invading the vehicle. He was well aware the icy temperature inside the SUV had nothing to do with the cool, Las Vegas night air. Sara sat huddled to his right; her arms clasped protectively round her abdomen as she stared with unseeing eyes at the passing street life. They had driven in silence for the last fifteen minutes, ever since leaving CSI headquarters. Resigned and defeated, her reaction to their working together this evening had not been what Gil had hoped for. However, if he were completely honest with himself, he could hardly claim astonishment. Their last trip together in this very truck had been an unmitigated disaster. For this, Grissom blamed himself.
It had been one week and three days since he had retrieved Sara from the police station waiting room and driven her home. Gil winced at the memory of what had transpired after arriving at her apartment building and wondered, not for the first time, how things had gone so horribly wrong. Everything had started off well enough...
After thanking the officer, Gil caught his first sight of Sara as he walked gingerly into the waiting area. She was staring straight ahead, tension screaming from every pore and his heart almost exploded with the relief of seeing her safe. He stepped closer and eased into the seat beside her, but she still refused to look in his direction or acknowledge his presence and he sighed as the realization hit that she was becoming as adept at hiding from him as he was from her.
Without giving himself time to second-guess his actions, Grissom reached out and gently intertwined his fingers through Sara's, caressing her cool hand with the pad of his thumb as she stiffened in shock.
"Come on," he prompted softly. "I'll drive you home."
The gentle offer seemed more than Sara could bear; she dropped her chin and her tenuous façade crumbled as she slumped lower in her seat. When she made no move to get up, Gil knelt in front of her, ignoring the groan of complaint from his abused joints, and swept the hair from in front of her face before tucking it behind one ear. He felt his stomach clench at the sight awaiting him and his breath hitched as he tenderly flicked away the twin tears slowly making a path down her cheeks before grasping her hands in his own.
"Sara, honey. Let's go. We can talk on the way."
For the first time since he entered the room, Sara raised her eyes to meet his and Grissom nearly tumbled headlong into their shimmering abyss. He teetered a lifetime on the brink, feeling his soul being laid bare. Mesmerized and unnerved by the searing intensity of the moment, a distant quote floated back to haunt him.
'Beware gazing into the abyss, lest the abyss gaze back into you.'
A chill slivered down his spine yet he was incapable of looking away. It was left to Sara to break the enchantment of the spell. She slowly closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before opening them again to nod wordlessly. Gil recovered enough of his senses in time to pull her to her feet. Unsure of how much more he could take, he recoiled instantly from the delicious contact as their chests met briefly. The compulsion to kiss Sara was fast becoming overwhelming, and he clenched his jaw painfully in an effort to resist her gravitational pull.
'Don't do this, Gil' he admonished himself. 'Just be her friend, that's all you can ever be. Nothing's changed. You can't be the man she deserves, so stop torturing her! No matter how much you want things to be different- they aren't!'
Despite his protestations otherwise, he knew with certainty it was his own cowardice, and not any form of altruism, that held him back from Sara and everything she offered. The thought made him flinch. A bitter vetch of self-loathing and sorrow rose in his throat, but yet he still allowed himself the guilty pleasure of continuing to hold her hand while he guided her from the station and out to his waiting vehicle.
After getting Sara settled into the passenger seat, Grissom circled around and entered the driver's side to turn the ignition. They were exiting the parking lot when the need to feel her touch again became an irresistible force. Almost without his knowledge, his palm stretched out across the adjoining console and following a moment's hesitation, Sara slid an answering hand into his. With a sigh, he closed his fingers and resumed the circling strokes with his thumb. Glancing over at Sara, Gil caught the small flicker of a smile that crossed her face before it was gone and she returned her gaze to her lap.
'Well, it's not much- but it's a start.' He mused hopefully
With any luck, they'd be able to put this whole fiasco behind them and maybe, just maybe, get back to the friendship they once had. God, how he missed that! How he missed HER- the smile that would tighten his insides every time, her sly wit and sharp intellect. And her eyes, those coffee bean eyes that always saw too much, especially when it came to him. He'd learned to hide from those eyes. Now, everything wonderful about her had somehow dimmed or been diminished in the past few years. Grissom questioned how much of Sara's present predicament could be laid at his door and was ashamed of the honest answer that came to him- too much. If she only knew how close he'd come to capitulating on so many occasions, but the knowledge would do neither of them any good. He couldn't have her. There were too many ifs- IF he wasn't her boss, IF she wasn't so much younger, IF she didn't scare the hell out of him. It would never work, and when she left- as she inevitably would, she would take every reason for living with her. But tonight- tonight he could have her, bask in her company and know that just once, he'd been there when she needed him. It was all he would permit himself and it would have to do. Gil had long ago learned there was a difference between what he wanted and what he could have. So there it was, he'd made up his mind and nothing was going to change it.
Gil Grissom should have paid attention to God laughing.
The traffic was light and they made it to Sara's apartment in short time. The ride had been filled with a silence borne of two people lost in their own thoughts. Grissom cut the engine and wondered what the hell to do next.
'Please God, just don't let me blow this.' He silently begged.
Gil lifted their joined hands, giving them a little jiggle to get Sara's attention and she quickly flicked him a glance before she went back to worrying the stray thread hanging from her shirt.
"Hey. You ok?"
"Yeah." She huffed out on a sigh. It was the first syllable Sara had spoken to him since he had walked into the station.
She smoothly disengaged her hand and straightened her shoulders before turning slightly in her seat to face him.
"Is this the part where you tell me what an idiot I am?" she bit out accusingly, her posture rigid and geared for battle.
It took all his hard won self-control not to smile at her show of spirit. Instead, he drew back his head and cocked it in surprise before asking,
"Do you want me to?"
Perplexed, she shook her head slightly.
"Well...no. Not especially."
"Then I won't,"
"So long as you know it, that's good enough for me." Gil said with a straight face.
Sara searched his face in confusion, then finally noticed the slight twitch of Grissom's lips and choked out a startled gasp.
"Oh, you are just so funny!" she charged sarcastically.
"Sorry. Bad joke. I'm afraid I'm not very good at this. I was trying to defuse the tension a little." He explained apologetically.
Gil gave her a small smile to soften the rebuke before admonishing, "But you did have that coming."
"Okay, so maybe I did." She agreed unsteadily before turning her head to gaze out the front window.
"Sara, can you tell me what's wrong? Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head mutely.
Grissom could make out the glimmering image of tears pooling in her eyes reflecting back at him from the windshield and reached out a gentle hand to turn her chin back to him.
"Hey, hey. What's this?"
"I'm so sorry about this. All of it," Sara whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry you had to be called. I never would have.... I didn't think I was..."
The urge to hold her was so strong; he ached with it. But he knew if he put his arms around her now, all his resolve would turn to dust and he'd never let her go. Gil settled on cupping her face in his hands and wiping at the falling droplets with his thumbs.
"Oh Sara... Honey, I know you didn't. And I'm not sorry they called. You hear me? I'm not. I'll always be there if you need me. You can always call me. You know that, don't you?" he asked huskily.
"Yes, I know that." Sara smiled shakily, and bringing her hand up to cover one of his, she leaned her face into its embrace.
Warning bells began sounding their alert inside Grissom's head and he eased his hands away to sit back in his seat. If Sara was aware of the war raging in him, she gave no outward sign of it; while he took a couple of steadying breathes, she busied herself opening the console to retrieve a few of the tissues kept there. Sniffing adorably, she dabbed at her face and nestled back into her side of the truck.
"Just promise me- never again. Okay, Sara? My heart can't take another call like that."
"Believe me. This will NEVER happen again!" Sara snorted forcefully.
"I believe you."
The simple statement brought Sara's head round in his direction and she eyed him with contemplation.
"Hey. You're being awfully nice to me. What gives?"
"It's in my programming to be nice occasionally. Makes me appear more human." Gil answered with a wry smile.
"Come on, Gris," Sara rolled her eyes wearily. "I know you're not a robot."
Her gaze slid away from him to focus on a far away place before continuing slowly.
"I mean, I admit there was a time when I thought you didn't feel anything..." Sara paused to let out a sigh. "But now...."
"But now?" Gil prodded while his pulse thrummed wildly in his ears.
Aware he was balanced precariously on a slippery slope, Grissom's heart had started hammering with excruciating speed, but the temptation to slip behind those eyes and learn her thoughts was too great to ignore.
"Now...Now, I think maybe you feel too much. More than most people, anyway. More than you know what to do with. So you shut it down and put it all away."
She turned her head to face him and smiled whimsically, then softly whispered; "Only problem is- someday, somehow...Somethin's gotta give. And that loss of control...that's what scares you the most."
She'd nailed him, just as Gil knew she would. Looking down, he was shocked to see white knuckles clutched fiercely around the steering wheel. He gingerly unclenched his hands, flexed them a few times and then carefully placed them on his legs. Grissom could feel Sara watching him closely, measuring the effect of her words. Sucking in a quick breath, he stared intently at his cuticles in an effort to collect his wits.
'Be careful what you wish for.' Gil reminded himself and huffed out a faint chuckle.
"So, how did you get so smart?" He teased weakly.
"Oh, I'm not so smart," Sara shrugged ruefully, while fiddling with a tissue. "If I was, I never would have...well, I wouldn't have done a lot of things."
They shared a peacefully quiet moment, which had Grissom pondering the deeper meaning hidden in her last statement. That was, until Sara swiveled abruptly in her seat. There was urgency about her, as though she was afraid of losing her nerve.
"Gris, why didn't you have dinner with me?"
Gil's brain screeched to a halt and he could do nothing but gape in bewilderment.
'Sweet Jesus! Not again!'
Every time Grissom thought he knew where a conversation with Sara was going- in a flash she would shift gears, and leave him scrambling to keep up. He couldn't have been more stunned if she'd told him she was an alien from the planet Zordon! Her expression of anxious expectation mixed with a dash of hope, was sending rivers of panic flooding through his veins. Sara was frantically searching his features, seeking an answer- seeking a way in, and he had had no time to man the battlements. God, what could he tell her? How could he explain to her what he could barely convince himself of? Dread was gradually filling his heart like oozing cement. He was going to blow this- he just knew it! Casting his mind back to that awful time, Gil thought of everything that had gone wrong, everything that he'd been unable to deal with--the lab explosion, Greg's brush with death, Sara's injuries and her subsequently careless behavior, Cavello crawling all over him. Then there was his hearing; it had all come to a head at once. She had invited him to dinner just as he was preparing to confront his worst nightmare. Should he tell her? Should he tell her that he'd scarcely made one life-altering decision when she'd offered him another?
'Tell her!!' an inner voice screamed. 'Tell her everything! For God's sake, she's waiting! Now!! Say something now!!'
"Sara," he blurted. "Sara, I couldn't do it. I was going--."
He never got the chance to finish. The sudden flash of anger across Sara's face stopped him dead in his tracks. Her hissing intake of breath ran his blood cold.
'Oh God, what have I done now?'
He'd stepped on a landmine. A landmine named Sara. And she did exactly what landmines do- she exploded right in his face.
"You couldn't do it?" she echoed bitterly, her voice rising. "You couldn't do it! Of course! How could I forget?...God, I'm such a fool! I should have believed you the first time! But I thought maybe, maybe this time you were letting me in!"
Sara was very nearly vibrating with controlled fury and Grissom still hadn't a clue what was happening.
"Sara -"
"NO! I'm done! You hear me? Done! I'll never be good enough!" she choked. "I'll never be worth the risk, will I?"
"Sara, what are you talking about?!"
"I was there, Gris! Behind the glass. I heard everything!"
Gil was grasping at straws. 'Glass? What glass? What the hell is going on??'
His puzzled confusion only seemed to push Sara to the breaking point. With a frustrated snarl, she began wrenching at the door handle. She almost made her escape before Grissom realized her intent and snaked out a hand to restrain her.
"Wait!"
"Careful, Grissom!" Sara spat with venom, looking down to where he held her wrist in his grasp. "You're not wearing your latex gloves!"
Jerking away, she slammed the passenger door and sprinted toward her building as though the devil himself was giving chase.
"Sara!!"
He was out of the truck to follow her when all the tumblers fell into place... Dr. Lurie- the Debbie Marlin case, his exhausted confession in the interrogation room. The full implication of Sara's words hit him with the force of a tsunami wave.
"GODDAMN IT!!" he roared and pounded his closed fist on the roof of the Denali.
The strangled sounds of his ragged breathing filled the air as he paced furiously back and forth. Would they ever stop tearing at one another? Leaving behind wounds that were invisible to the eye, but bled nonetheless. He felt sick. Gil stopped and roughly tossed his weight up against the driver's side door, slowly beating the back of his head on the roof. He could feel a migraine building but couldn't summon the effort to care. Lights illuminating an apartment above him caught his attention. Sara. He turned his gaze to the starlit sky and gathered his strength. He had to see her, had to explain. A combination of hope and yearning propelled him forward. Grissom took several purposeful strides until a simple question stumbled him to a standstill.
'What could I say to fix this?' he bemoaned.
Gil grasped the answer with dawning horror. Nothing. He could say nothing. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Nothing had changed. He still couldn't have her. Everything was as he always knew it would be. Grissom thought of his old life, a life before loving Sara, and wondered if he would ever find solace there again. Numbly, he turned back to the truck, climbed in and started the engine. If his vision was misted, he pretended not to notice. Putting the Denali into gear, Gil drove away.
It had been one week and three days since he retrieved Sara from the police station and now she was avoiding him like an infectious disease. And he was letting her. Until tonight. He and Sara were the only two left without an active case when the call from Brass had come in. If Gil hadn't taken Sara with him, it would only have meant more grist for the lab's rumor mill. And the mill had been working overtime for the past week as it was. Luckily, he'd managed to keep Sara's near arrest from becoming public knowledge but their strained relations had been noted, cataloged and dissected by everyone, from Catherine to the day shift janitor. Now, they were on their way to a suspicious explosion at an abandoned warehouse in one of the seedier industrial areas of Las Vegas. As far as Grissom was concerned, they couldn't get there fast enough. The toxic silence was rubbing his nerves raw.
He pulled the Denali in beside several of the other emergency vehicles already parked on the dry scrub surrounding the damaged warehouse and turned it off. The truck had barely rolled to a stop before Sara leaped out, grabbed her kit and was gone. 'This' was getting worse by the minute and Gil still didn't know what to do about it. With a despondent sigh, he slipped out of the vehicle to retrieve his crime kit from the back. Up ahead, he could see Sara already waiting beside Jim Brass. When Grissom joined them, she subtly turned away to survey the crime scene. Brass caught his eye and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Shooting daggers, Gil frowned a warning and shook his head. After sending him a satirical smirk, followed by an 'I hope you know what you're doing' shrug, Jim let out an exaggerated cough to get Sara's attention.
"Okay children, this is what we got. Explosion ripped through this warehouse approximately forty-five minutes ago. Previously owned by Webster Imports, it's now abandoned. No known cause of the explosion, no outward sign of arson."
"Chemicals?" Grissom asked.
"None that we know of. We've got the city on the line, checking for records or permits."
Sara puckered her face in concentration, and then posited "What about drugs? I've read that abandoned buildings are often used as havens for meth-labs. Could this be gang related? Maybe a turf war?"
Impressed, Gil avoided looking her way. He'd rather extract his own liver than try to give her a compliment right now. Her mood was less than receptive.
Brass, on the other hand, was more verbal. "Very good, Sara. One gold star for CSI Sidle. The department has had this place on a watch-list for about a year but could never come up with anything concrete."
Jim leaned toward Sara with a conspiratorial smile. "Scuttlebutt is, they were getting tipped off about potential raids."
"So, when can we go in?" Gil demanded a little more curtly than he had intended.
Sara shot him a look of surprised reproach, but Brass wasn't fooled. His knowing grin was proof of that. Jim's easy relationship with Sara had always been a source of envy for Grissom, and today was no different. Especially today.
"Hard to say. We're waiting for clearance from the city engineers. The place has been groaning pretty good, so they've got their 'bot in there right now."
"Their 'bot?" they asked in unison.
"Yeah, latest thing. A version of it's been used in bomb disposal for years. It's like a little remote-controlled ATV, hooked up to a video thingamahjiggy so they can see inside. Saves them risking human lives 'til they know it's safe."
Interested, Sara stepped closer to Brass. "So, this could tell us if there was anyone left in there?"
The mocking wink Brass sent him over Sara's shoulder had Grissom contemplating the various methods for disposing of a dead body.
"Yep. Nobody so far, but the sweep isn't done yet." He answered, leaning a little more into Sara's personal space.
Taking the bait, Grissom strode over, grasped Sara's elbow and tried not to wince when he felt her stiffen.
"Okay, Jim. Thanks. We'll be checking the perimeter. Let us know when we have clearance." He ground out with taut professionalism.
"Will do." Came the laughing reply.
Gil had only guided Sara a few steps when she shrugged off his grip on her arm and continued to walk on ahead without a backward glance. He slowed to a stop and watched her go.
"Gil?"
He turned back to face his friend. "Yeah."
The detective smiled warmly and winked again. "Hang in there, buddy."
Grissom gave him a wan half-smile in return. Maybe he wouldn't kill him after all. "Thanks, Jim."
Brass briefly nodded before pivoting away to speak one of his officers, leaving Gil to go in search of Sara.
He found her in front of the yellow crime scene tape; her kit was already opened, and she was in the process of putting on her gloves. Dropping his case beside Sara's, Grissom fished out a pair for himself and cringed in memory.
'The only time we touch other people is when we're wearing our latex gloves.'
He snapped them on with more force than necessary and ignored the pain.
"You ready?" Gil rasped.
Sara nodded and they both flicked on their flashlights to begin walking along the perimeter line. They had been at it for about ten minutes when Sara abruptly cocked her head and swung her flashlight in the direction of the building's side door.
"Grissom? Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" he asked, bringing his beam in line with hers.
"Sounds like it's coming from in there." She directed
The faint echo of what could be cries for help carried out to them on the night air.
"Gris, I think someone's trapped inside!" Sara exclaimed in alarm.
"Wait here," he ordered. "I'll get an officer."
No sooner had he turned and hailed one of the men standing by the patrol car parked a short distance away, when he heard the soft thud of something hitting the ground. It was Sara's flashlight. Looking back up, he saw her racing at break-neck speed towards the side entrance
'Oh God! She can't be!' he froze in disbelief.
"SARA!! STOP!!" he shouted at her retreating back. "SARA!! WAIT! DON'T GO IN THERE!"
But it was too late. She had flung open the door and disappeared inside. Gil ducked under the yellow tape and started tearing after her. He only got five paces when a pair of steely hands grabbed him from behind. Grissom spun round to rid himself of the hindrance and came face to face with the officer he had called over.
"Get off me!!" he snarled at the younger man, trying to loosen his grip.
"SIR!" the officer barked, not giving an inch. "Sir! I can't let you in there!!"
"Let go!! I have to get her! It's SARA!!" Grissom bellowed in frustration, as if the policeman should understand the significance of what he was saying.
The two men were still scuffling when Brass came running to intervene.
"Whoa! Whoa! Henderson, I got it! Stand down."
Henderson dropped his hold and Jim stepped between them as Gil made to lunge around him.
Brass blocked his efforts and snapped, "GIL! Getta hold of yourself!"
The sharp command was like ice water sluicing over him. Grissom blinked and struggled to push back the panic that threatened to consume him.
"It's Sara, Jim. She's in there and maybe someone else too." He choked out hoarsely.
"I know. I heard- the whole place heard." His friend said meaningfully. Jim softened his tone before adding, "We'll get her, Gil. But you know yourself, we can't let anybody but rescue personnel in until it's cleared."
He nodded morosely. "Okay, so when will they be ready?"
"They're suiting up right now."
Nobody was prepared for the ominous rumble when it came. Gil stood paralyzed with horror as the foundation of the warehouse began heaving from its moorings with a thunderous crack. More splintering crashes shot forth like gunfire and, as if in slow motion, the listing structure imploded in on itself with a deafening roar.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Grissom screamed in agony. "SARAAAAAA!!"
This time it took both Brass and Henderson to tackle his writhing body to the ground. He was still calling her name long after the cacophony of the building's collapse had faded into silence.
TBC