Easter Fever
By: Cindy
Email: sg1phileshipper@skynet.be; sara.grissom@skynet.be
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to CBS Productions, Alliance Atlantis, Anthony Zuiker and anyone else I might have forgotten. I make no money out of this fic. I'm just writing for fun, no need to sue me.
Rating: G
Classification: Humour/romance
Keywords: Grissom and Sara
Summary: A hot day and one very sick CSI
Archive: Fanfiction.net, my site. Anywhere friendly is fine as long as you drop me a line so I can pay a visit.
Spoilers: Nothing major I guess.
Feedback: Is extremely welcome. I'll keep flaming mails to light my Christmas tree next December.
Author's Note: This fic has a high fluff alert. I started writing and fell in a giant puddle of fluff. My brain stopped working and my fingers kept on moving over my keyboard. But hey, I love fluff, so I'm not complaining.
Dedication: To Xant, Ann and Ellesha. You know why
Easter Fever
CSI Headquarters, April 10th, 9.23 pm
Grissom looked up from the stack of papers he was working on when he heard someone walking down the hallway, coughing and sniffing loudly. Sara appeared in the doorway, her nose red and her eyes puffy. She looked at Grissom, a glassy expression on her face.
"You look like hell, Sara," Grissom offered, worry evident in his voice. "Why didn't you stay at home?" he said as he got up from his chair and walked over to where she was leaning heavily against the doorframe.
"Thanks for making me feel better, Grissom," she grunted, smiling slyly at him. Not a second later she was caught by his strong arms as her knees buckled. She started coughing, and Grissom steadied her with his hands on her shoulders.
"Geez Sara, didn't anyone ever tell you to stay home when you're this sick?" Grissom questioned, giving her a stern look.
"I'm sure there are many cases that need to be worked on out there. People tend to get crazy with this heat so I thought I'd come in and give you guys a hand. But I have to admit, I thought I would feel better once I was up for a couple of hours," she shrugged her shoulders innocently.
Grissom shook his head and gave her a disapproving look. "You're no use to me if you're dead on your feet. Go home and get some rest, it's probably the best cure for the state you're in," he said in a soft voice as he gently turned her around and walked her out of the office, his hand lightly resting on the small of her back. "Will you be okay to drive? I mean I don't want you crashing into a tree or anything," Grissom pondered.
Sara was not used to a caring Grissom, causing a blush to appear on her face. When he was concerned, it didn't go unnoticed by her, but sometimes she wondered if he really cared about her as a friend. Or was he just being the boss?
"I won't go crashing into anything. If I was able to drive here, I think I'll be able to drive back. Besides, I love my life too much and there's so much left for me to find out," she whispered hoarsely, her feet suddenly appearing very interesting. She couldn't meet his gaze, making him wonder what she was thinking about.
Grissom put his finger under her chin and they came eye to eye, Sara almost immediately breaking the contact. "What do you need to find out?" he asked.
Grissom could swear he saw Sara turn red, but then again it could be his imagination, or maybe she had fever. He put his hand on her forehead and Sara struggled to keep her eyes open at his gentle and cooling touch. "Go home, Sara, you're burning up. I'll check up on you after work, if that's okay," he offered shyly.
Sara gave him a small smile. "I think I'd like that."
"Come on; let's get you to your car." Grissom offered her his arm, which she took sleepily, causing a few people to give them odd looks on their way to the parking lot. When they reached Sara's Denali, Grissom took the keys dangling from her finger and opened the door.
"Thanks, Gris, but I'm not half dead you know," she joked, sliding into her seat and wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
"Just be careful, okay?" He tenderly laid his hand on her cheek and gently caressed her with his thumb.
"I will, don't worry," she replied, a small smile playing around the corner of her mouth. "See you in the morning?" she asked hopefully.
"I'll check up on you after work," Grissom promised, offering her a reassuring grin. He closed her door and waved at her before walking off.
Sara sighed and started the car. "You're a handful, Gil Grissom, a real handful," she muttered to herself while pulling out of her parking spot.
SARA SIDLE'S APPARTMENT, April 11th, 6.37 am
Grissom had been ringing the doorbell for about five minutes, when he decided to let himself in by picking her lock. He opened the door, and the apartment was quiet and dark. If he didn't know better, he would say she was out. But in the state she had been in earlier, he doubted that she'd gone anywhere other than her bed. Grissom softly called out her name, but no one responded. He made his way to her bedroom and softly knocked on the door, which was standing ajar. He pushed the door open, revealing Sara completely dressed on her bed in a tangle of sheets. He sat down next to her and shook her shoulders.
"Sara," he tried, but he didn't get a response. He touched her forehead and she was burning up. "Sara, wake up please." Sara's eyes fluttered open for a second and she mumbled something incoherent, before shutting her eyes again. Grissom put his hand on her forehead. "Geez, Sara, you have a high fever," he mumbled as he took the phone off the hook. He dialled Catherine's number and she answered on the fourth ring.
"Willows."
"Cath, it's Grissom."
"If you're calling me at home, something must be wrong Gil," she stated.
"I'm at Sara's and she's got a high fever. I sent her home tonight because she was as sick as a dog. I can't seem to wake her up. Do you think you could come over and help me out here?" he pleaded.
Catherine could hear the worry in Grissom's voice and it was not like Gil Grissom to worry over nothing. "You're the former coroner Gil, I'm pretty sure you know what to do," she confronted him.
"Of course I know what to do Catherine," he grunted into the receiver. "Give her fluids, get her temperature down, stuff like that," he growled into the phone.
Catherine swallowed and tried to stifle a chuckle escaping her mouth. "What do you need me for then?" she asked curiously.
Grissom groaned. "Do you need a picture here?" he blurted. "I just need a woman," he said without thinking.
"I'm sure you do, Gil," she chuckled. "I'll be right there." She hung the phone on the hook, smiling as she shook her head. She wondered if Grissom realized what he had just said.
Grissom heard the click of the phone and proceeded to the bathroom in search of a washcloth. He held it under the cool water and returned to Sara's room. He held it against her forehead and Sara stirred. She mumbled something and shifted closer to where Grissom was sitting.
About twenty minutes later he heard the front door open. "Gil?" Catherine's voice travelled through the quiet apartment and he heard her walking into the living room.
"I'm in here, Cath." Grissom's voice was a little shaky and Catherine could perfectly imagine that he was a little scared. She walked into the bedroom and found Grissom sitting close to Sara, her head in his lap and a washcloth pressed against her forehead. Grissom looked up at Catherine and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess she must be cold. She just shifted closer to me as soon as I sat down," he explained.
Catherine nodded and carefully approached Sara. She touched her forehead and looked at Grissom. "She has a pretty high fever. Do you know how long she has been like this?" she asked.
Grissom swallowed hard and gently brushed Sara's cheek with his thumb. "She was sick when she came in, so I sent her home. But her condition wasn't as serious as it is now." His worried blue eyes bored into hers, concern written all over his features.
"Don't worry Gil, she'll be fine," Catherine said, laying a comforting hand on his arm. "But we need to get her fever down."
"I know; that's why I called you. I can't exactly bathe her, can I?" he said with a small smile.
"I guess not," she grinned at him. "Can you stay with her while I get the bath running? And we need her to drink something fever reducing," she finished. "I'll go run the bath now. Will you be okay?" she asked.
"Lukewarm," he said.
"Huh?" Catherine shook her head in confusion.
"The bath has to be lukewarm," Grissom explained.
"Oh," she smiled at him. "I knew that. I do have a daughter you know," she explained. "Do you think you can wake her?" she asked as she left the room and headed to the bathroom.
Grissom looked at Sara and then at Catherine's retreating form. "I don't know, but I can try." Grissom tenderly caressed Sara's hair, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Catherine, when she walked back into the room. "Sara? Can you hear me?" Sara stirred and her eyes fluttered open.
"Grissom...," she said, her voice sounding very weak. "What's wrong?" Her throat sounded raspy and dry. She swallowed hard. She turned her head and noticed Catherine standing in the doorway. "Did something happen?"
Catherine approached her and sat down on the other side of the bed, Sara following her with her eyes the whole time. "Are you feeling okay, Sara? You have a pretty high fever."
"I don't feel too well. I'm cold and hot at the same time and I can't stay awake." She turned her head and locked eyes with Grissom. "Did you call Catherine?" she asked.
Grissom gave her a lopsided grin and looked at his hands. "You were pretty hot when I came in. I knocked several times, but you didn't answer. I got worried and let myself in. I've been trying to rouse you since I came in, but you wouldn't wake up."
"It was you then, I thought I was dreaming." She gave him a weak smile. "I'm okay Gris, don't worry." She accepted the glass that Catherine handed her and emptied it in one gulp. She looked back at Grissom. "Really, I feel fine."
"Whatever you say," Grissom didn't seem too convinced and looked at Catherine. "Is the bath ready?" he asked.
Catherine nodded. "Yeah, it should be fine by now," she said as she helped Sara up. "Come on Princess, let's get you in the tub," she ordered.
"But I'm too cold to get in the tub," Sara protested weakly.
"I know you are honey, but we need to get your temperature down," Grissom explained, not realizing he had called her honey in front of Catherine.
Catherine didn't comment on Grissom's slip of the tongue, she just raised her eyebrow. "What?" he asked confused.
"Nothing," she grinned. "Just gimme a hand, will you?" she asked, directing him to the other side of Sara. She wasn't very heavy, but since she was barely able to walk, Grissom's help was more than welcome.
Sara sat down on the side of the tub and looked up at her two friends. "What?" she mumbled.
"Do you need a hand undressing?" Grissom asked.
"Are you offering?" she quipped, earning a chuckle from Catherine and a grunt from Grissom. "Because if you are, I'm not saying no," she smiled at him.
"Just get in the tub, Sidle," he ordered, closing the door behind him. He let out the sigh he had been holding and sat down on her bed. He could handle a healthy Sara, but a sick Sara got his defences down and he wasn't really sure if he could handle that. He fell back on the bed and groaned.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
When Sara and Catherine emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, Grissom was still lying on Sara's bed, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. Sara snickered at the funny view. "I thought he never slept," she grinned.
"Oh, he does sleep," Catherine said matter-of-factly. "He just can't sleep without his bugs," she giggled.
Sara stopped in her tracks and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "How do you know that?" she asked, failing to keep the jealous tone out of her voice.
"Easy there Tiger," Catherine muttered, holding her hands out in defence. "He babysat Lindsay a little while ago and she was asleep in his room. I went to get her and she was holding this cute Ladybird in her hands."
"So?" Sara asked in confusion as she sat down on the bed. "And that is weird, because?" she questioned.
"That Ladybird didn't belong to Lindsay," Catherine whispered, walking over to the other side of the bed, making a move to shake Grissom's shoulder.
"Don't," Sara said adamantly. "Leave him," she finished, falling back with her head on the pillow.
Catherine raised her brows. "You gonna take advantage of him while he's sleeping?" she asked.
Sara mumbled something and shook her head. "At this moment, I don't exactly give a damn who's in my bed. I'm sleepy, my head hurts and I just wanna close my eyes," she whispered hoarsely.
"And you just want a warm body to cuddle up to when you get cold," Catherine finished with a huge grin on her face. "Gil is gonna love this when he wakes up," she warned her.
Sara turned on her side, her back to Grissom and closed her eyes. "He'll probably be gone when I wake up, so I don't care," she yawned.
"You're so lucky Greg didn't come over to visit you," Catherine whistled amused.
"What?" Sara asked sleepily.
"Never mind," Catherine whispered and walked back to Sara's side of the bed. "Take another Tylenol when you wake up," she ordered.
"Yes mom," she saluted and closed her eyes. She heard Catherine shuffling her feet and walking over to the door. "Hey Cath," she opened her eyes.
"Yes?" she asked, turning back to face Sara.
"Thanks," she answered shyly, her eyelids growing heavy again.
"You shouldn't be thanking me," she pointed her finger to the sleeping Grissom. "You should be thanking him," she explained.
"I know, "she yawned loudly. "And I will thank him," she turned on her other side and closed her eyes.
"Sweet dreams, Sara," Catherine whispered and softly closed the door behind her.
Sara mumbled something and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep the second her eyes were closed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Gil Grissom woke up a few hours later and yawned. He tried to stretch, but failed, a heavy weight was draped across his body. His lazily opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. 'Wait a second,' he thought. 'This isn't my apartment.' He stared at the ceiling for a second before it dawned on him where he was. It wasn't really where he was that was bothering him, it was the person he was with that was causing him the inability to think straight.
Sara Sidle lay draped across his chest, her hair tickling his nose and her arms around his shoulders. She was almost on top of him and she was shaking slightly. It was then that he noticed they were lying on top of the covers.
He waggled a little without waking her and managed to get under the covers, pulling her with him. She let out a contented sigh in her sleep and moved even closer to him. Grissom smiled slightly and put his arms around her. He gently touched her forehead and it was much cooler than it had been a few hours earlier. He curled an errant lock of hair around his finger, before putting it behind her ear.
Grissom didn't know how long he had been watching her, but he was surprised when she opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Hi," she whispered sleepily.
"Hey," he said gently, while he kept looking at her.
"How long have you been awake?" she asked curiously.
"Long enough," he admitted.
"And you're still here?" she concluded.
Grissom narrowed his eyes. "Where else would I be?" he asked confused.
"Home?" she asked sadly.
"Why would I be home?" he questioned, tracing her cheekbone with his finger.
She swallowed hard and tried to control her fast-beating heart. "I figured you'd be gone when I woke up," she explained.
Grissom shifted nervously. "Did you want me to be gone?" he asked, hurt obvious in his eyes.
"No," she whispered softly. "But I was so sure you would be," she finished.
"I've done some pretty stupid things in the past, but I've decided I'm gonna quit being stupid," Grissom stated matter-of-factly. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Actually, I feel pretty good," she stretched out to prove it.
"I think you should stay home tonight," Grissom answered gently.
"I'm fine Gris," she said.
"How can you be so sick one day, and have nothing the next?" he asked confused.
"Severe case of hay fever," she answered truthfully. "I have one of those every year if I forget to take my medication," she said sheepishly.
"Sara, you should have known better," Grissom said sternly.
"I know," she grinned sheepishly. "I was so wrapped up in the Walden case, I forgot," she admitted.
Grissom shook his head and smiled disapprovingly. "How many times have I told you that you work too much?" he questioned her.
She put her hand over her mouth and faked a deep thought. "You must have told me every month," she said.
"You're so bad," he muttered as he started tickling her.
Sara giggled loudly and slapped his hand away. "Stop that," she said seriously.
"Sorry," he grinned sheepishly, but didn't let go of her hand. He intertwined her fingers with his and smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he whispered hoarsely. "You scared me for a while."
She blinked a couple of times and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She could handle being around Grissom and hiding her feelings, but not when he was being this caring. "Thanks for everything, Gris," she whispered.
"You're welcome," he said as he got up from the bed and held his hand out to her. "Can I make you something to eat?" he asked, pulling her to her feet when she put her hand in his.
"Sure," she got to her feet and gave his back a confused look when he didn't let go of her hand. "I have some great microwave food," she quipped.
"I'm sure you do, but I can cook," he said proudly.
"I'm sure you can," she grinned at him as she sat down at the island in the kitchen. She watched him with a smile on her face as he rummaged through her fridge and produced various vegetables he had brought with him earlier. He smiled at her confused look. "It's magic," he grinned.
"You didn't have to buy me stuff," she said.
"I know, but you were so sick last night. It's the least I could do," he defended himself.
Sara swallowed and stared at his hands cutting the vegetables. "Do you care about me?" she asked bluntly.
Grissom stopped chopping the tomato, and turned around. "Yes," he said honestly. "I care about you a lot Sara. Although I may not always show it," he explained. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her response, but she left it at that.
Half an hour later, they were sitting side by side at the kitchen island, eating in silence. Sara cast a sideways glance at Grissom, and he turned to her. One side of his lips curled and he put his fork down. "You're dying to ask me something, so shoot," he muttered.
Sara shook her head and continued eating. She smiled at him when he kept on staring at her.
He nudged her with his elbow and she finally put her fork down. "Just ask Sara," he chuckled.
"This is delicious," she said as she pointed to her food.
Grissom took her hand when she started to put some more food in her mouth. "You're dying to ask," he grinned.
"What?" she said innocently.
"Don't play games Sara," he grumbled. "I wasn't asleep when Catherine left last night," he admitted.
"You weren't?" she grunted her teeth. "Great," she mumbled under her breath and pulled her hand free from his grasp.
"Wait here," he said as he got up. "There's something I need to get," he explained and smiled at her confused look.
He came back a minute later, and was hiding something pretty big behind his back. Sara got up and walked to him. "What are you hiding?" she asked with a silly grin on her face.
"Nothing," he replied as he took a few steps back from her. "Stop there Sidle," he ordered when she was only a few inches away from him.
"Okay," she said, giving up easily.
Grissom smiled at her and produced a beautiful Ladybug from behind his back. He gave it to Sara and grinned. "That's for you," he said.
She swallowed back some tears and smiled thankfully. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Not as beautiful as you honey," he said honestly. "Happy Easter, Sara." He tenderly kissed her cheek, his mouth lingering longer than necessary.
"Thank you," she said, tenderly caressing the Ladybug.
"It's the least I could do after waking up in your bed," he answered as he took a step back from her and put his keys on the island.
"So," she said matter-of-factly. "You just wanted to sleep with me," she said amused.
"Yes," he admitted, taking a step towards her.
"You could have just asked," she grinned and looked up at him.
"I know," he whispered, claiming her lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. "But that wouldn't have been very romantic," he smiled against her lips.
Sara pulled back and offered him a tiny smile. "Who would have known Gil Grissom was a romantic man?" she pondered.
"You'd better believe it," he mumbled. "I'm going to sweep you off your feet," he said as he tenderly claimed her lips with his, earning him a contented sigh from Sara. Life was indeed very beautiful, but you had to take risks to live it to the fullest.
The End.