Author: Michelle Bryan
Title: Can't Leave It Alone
Rating: T (Language)
Pairings: GSR … who else?
Summary: Grissom finds comfort in all the wrong ways.
Spoilers: Many scattered GSR moments from all seasons and a huge spoiler for PoTTR(S6)
Disclaimer: My grandma is in Las Vegas looking for Grissom to bring him back to me as we speak … err write. At the moment, nothing to do with CSI is mine … at least ownership rights anyway.
A/N: Mega angst alert! You've been warned.
This just popped into my head today and I decided to write it 'cause … well … I wanted to. Shrugs I apologize for any OOCness that occurs during this one-shot. No Beta so any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Can't Leave It Alone
"Just leave it alone."
Grissom was standing by his jars of specimens that filled the shelves lining his office; Catherine was sitting in his chair, unrelenting.
"No Gil. You have been brooding and moping around here for the past two days acting as if your favorite pet tarantula was stepped on and killed. We want to know why, more specifically, I want to know why."
"Leave it alone." He said again, this time with a little more emotion than before.
However, Catherine wasn't going to be deterred. "No. Just answer me that one question Gil. I'm your friend. I'm not going to go running around the lab spreading rumors of whatever it is that is bothering you. You look upset, no, down right depressed and I want to know why. I want to help you. Why have you been locking yourself in your office, ignoring everyone unless it's to do with assignments or paperwork?"
"Obviously I haven't locked myself in my office because if it was locked then you wouldn't be in here." He snipped, still trying to hide behind the observation of his specimens.
Catherine nodded, conceding his point. "Touché. So you're not locking the door but you aren't letting anyone in unless they barge in, like myself." Grissom snorted. "What's wrong Gil?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit." Grissom turned to look at Catherine in mild shock. It had been a long time since he had heard her swear; that one word told him that she wasn't going to go away.
"Catherine, please…"
"No Gil, enough of this crap." She was getting frustrated and pissed now, the emotions showing as she shot up from his chair. "Just tell me what the hell happened that has you so far down in the shitter."
"I…"
"Gil," Catherine demanded.
"Fine, Damnit! I kissed her all right! I kissed her! Happy?" Catherine was too shocked to say anything; instead, she fell back into his chair and stared him down as he started pacing. She looked towards the door and was thankful that she remembered to close it.
"Who Gil?" Catherine asked gently, realizing that this was more deeply personal then she and everyone else first thought.
"It was such a long day," He mumbled as he continued his pacing in front of his desk. "I wasn't thinking straight. She was there, I couldn't think of what else to do. I wasn't thinking. I just … I wasn't thinking…"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Grissom had phoned in the call that he had found their suspect in the desert and that they were going to need an ambulance. When the ambulance and detectives pulled up to the coordinates he had given them, he still had the slightly shaking Lady Heather in his arms. Brass had given him a curious glance before verbally pulling Heather away from Grissom so that he could get her on site statement and then get her to the station.
Grissom had followed behind the police cruiser holding Heather and then followed them into the station. He had watched behind the one-way mirror as Brass had questioned her. He watched as the woman he openly admired for her self-control and power, broke down right before his eyes, again. For the second time in not even two hours, he watched as Lady Heather, a woman known for her confidence and control, cried freely.
The mourning families of victims has always been hard to watch for Grissom, but he learned on this night that it was even harder when it was someone he knew; someone who he had cared for, and still does if he admitted it to himself. He could never be with her again, not like a few years ago. He just wouldn't let himself use her for comfort, for release, for an understanding … never again. Once was already too much for him.
But he needed comfort after seeing a woman as strong and admirable as Lady Heather, a woman he watched on a few occasions as she disciplined her subordinates or controlled her emotions over a botched morning tea when he turned her into a suspect instead of the strong-hearted woman she was, as she broke down, almost killing a man.
It was too much for his mind to deal with. I cared for someone who could easily and heartlessly manipulate a man to get his DNA and then just as easily almost kill him. She's an attempted murderer.
He groaned and slammed his fists down on his steering wheel in frustration as he sat outside her apartment building that night. He needed comfort and he wasn't even thinking as he drove here, seemingly on autopilot. His feet must have been working on autopilot as well when they took him from his car to outside her door.
What are you doing? He asked his hand as it came up to knock on her door.
He wanted to walk away, the rational side told him to, but he couldn't; she was the only one that he could find comfort with, he knew that much. But he knew she wouldn't appreciate it; showing up on her doorstep crazy and emotionally drained. She would want to talk and…
The door opened and a frazzled looking Sara Sidle stood in the middle of the wooden frame, rubbing one eye with her fist as if he had woken her. "Griss?"
He wasn't thinking straight. That's what he told himself when he looked at her and felt the urge to just close the gap and lose himself in her. He shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to regain his senses.
"Griss? Griss are you alright?" She asked worried.
Her hand coming out and grasping his forearm gently, supportively, lovingly, was his undoing. Not thinking straight. He told himself as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him. He slammed his lips on hers and after a brief hesitation she replied.
He stepped slowly, leading her back into her apartment, never taking his lips from hers. Their tongues never stopped their game as he stepped into the hall between the door and living room and slammed her against the wall. His arms released her waist so he could grab her wrists. He held them tight against the wall above her head as his tongue continued exploring her mouth possessively.
It was thirty seconds later when he released her lips to be able to taste her throat. His right hand followed suit and released hers to find its way under her shirt. It was at that moment that Sara saw her door was open.
The slamming of the door when she kicked it seemed to bring Grissom back to his senses. He pulled away sharply from her and stood frozen, his hands slowly peeling themselves from wherever it was that they ended up before the door was slammed.
"I … oh god Sara, I'm so sorry." He shook his head ruefully and silently berated himself.
Sara gaped at him.
"I … I never meant … this should … I'm your … shit." He growled before pulling the door open and storming out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Grissom had lowered himself into one of the guest chairs as he told his oldest and probably best friend about that night. "I couldn't even stand to look at myself Catherine." He covered his face with his hands. "I was about to use her, just like I used Heather all those years ago. What the hell is wrong with me?"
Catherine was shocked silent. She wanted to help, that's what she came in here to do, but this was much more then she ever would have expected. She didn't need to say anything as Grissom continued his self-loathing.
"She's never going to talk to me you know, and rightfully so. What I did is disgusting. I wasn't thinking straight. That's what I keep telling myself but it doesn't work, not at all. I should never have gone to her like that. She is my, at least was my friend. I don't know what to do Catherine."
She had never, ever seen her friend this bad. She'd seen him angry, depressed, even down right pissed, but never had she seen him desperate. She wanted to walk over to him and pull him into a hug but after all this personal sharing, she was sure a personal space violation was not a smart thing to do to the man right now.
"I'm sorry Gil, I … I don't know what to say."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sara had never been this pissed before in her life and she was surprised at how well she was hiding it from her co-workers and friends. It was easy to keep from Greg because she just needed to wink or smile at him and the young man would forget any and all things around him. Nick was just as easy, but for different reasons. He seemed to be very distracted these days and wouldn't have noticed if his newly, and not so pretty, hair was on fire. Catherine and herself weren't exactly friends just yet, although they were getting much better, so she wasn't someone she cared about hiding from. Warrick would find out in a heartbeat but being the friend he is, he would ask if she was ok once and then leave it alone. Brass was a little harder since he became so much like an uncle to her, or even as far to say the father figure she lost while growing up.
But none of them had noticed, not even the latter two men and for that, she was thankful. This anger was not one she was willing to talk to anyone with; her only consolation had been that the only other person involved wouldn't be one to talk about it either. So when she had walked past his office and heard him through the thin door yelling, "I kissed her! Happy?" she had paused and stood gaping at the closed wooden door.
The door was closed but the blinds weren't fully so she peeked in and saw Grissom pacing and talking animatedly with Catherine, who was sitting shocked behind his desk. She ducked away from the window quickly, to make sure she wouldn't be spotted by Catherine, and stood angrily by the door, listening to Grissom replay his night … then their night.
When she heard him sigh and quit talking, she checked the door and found it unlocked.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"She's my subordinated Catherine, it would never work."
Catherine looked up as the door opened and her jaw dropped. She tried to get Grissom's attention but he had already said continued.
"It would just never work and we need to move on."
She shook her head at how dense her very intelligent friend could be. "Gil," He looked up and noticed her eyes focus past him and towards his door. He was confused for a second until it hit him. Taking a quick breath and holding it, he turned to see Sara standing in his doorway with her hands on her hips and unshed tears in her eyes. He stood up and tried to explain but the words were caught in his throat.
"Don't Grissom." Sara told him with no emotion.
"I think I'm going to head out." Catherine went to leave but stopped when Sara raised her hand, her eyes never leaving Grissom's.
"I did try to move on Grissom. I tried so hard and was doing so well until you came to my door and pushed me against the wall. I was ready to forgive you; for whatever reason, my traitorous heart was more then ready to forgive you. But then you stopped. Then you hurt me again."
She looked deep into his eyes when she said what she knew she should have said a couple years ago. "I quit."
"Sara…" He took a step toward her but she just shook her head, turned, and walked down the hall toward the doors, towards a new life without him.
Grissom shook his ahead and lowered his chin to his chest.
"Gil,"
"No Catherine, please, just leave it alone."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After that night, after Grissom had left her apartment, she couldn't sleep so she had pulled out the leave of absence form that she had brought home a few years ago. She hadn't left the first time because he sent a plant … a stupid no good plant that apparently meant nothing. She thought bitterly as she threw things in the one box that she had in her apartment.
That night, she had sat at the living room coffee table, sitting on her couch dumbfounded, wondering what the hell had just happened while wondering where would be the best lab to check out first? Quantico or LA? Both were great, one FBI the other with beaches, scantly clad men, and closer to home. She'd snorted at that thought. I've never had a home.
She'd decided, after hours of staring at the blank sheet, that if she had made it this far through his torture then she could be the better person and go on some more. It was going to be very, very hard … she knew this, but it was going to be cleansing to her heart and mind when she could honestly say that she was better at something then the impenetrable Gruesome Grissom. She was going to hide her feelings and be as stoic as ever, and be better at it then him.
But when she had heard him talking to Catherine in his office, she couldn't bare it. How could he just talk to someone about what happened between them like that?
She slammed another book into the box as another tear fell from her chin to the carpet. He's not going to hurt me like that again. Not ever. She knew it wasn't true; that if she stayed around and saw him again, she would crumble and fall just like before. She loved him, plain and simple. And if he had ever gotten his head out of his ass then we could have been happy. She wiped the tear from her cheek and taped up the box. Since it was the only one that she had in the apartment, she grabbed her keys and purse and was about to head to the nearest store when there was a knock on her door.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Grissom sat in his office thinking about everything that happened just minutes before. How could he be so stupid? He should have known talking to Catherine about this was going to be more trouble then good. He should have known that if he was going to talk to her then the lab should not have been the location for it. Some place with a bar full of scotch would have been better.
That reminded him of the half bottle of scotch that Jim Brass had left at his house one night after a particularly hard case. Grissom grabbed his keys and locked his office. Ignoring anyone who came up to him or tried to acknowledge him, he walked briskly out to his car and practically jumped in.
He started the car and drove, thinking of the past three days. How could I use her like that? Was it using her? Of course it was. I was only there to get comfort from a hard and confusing day. But isn't that what most spouses do after a very hard day at work?
That thought jolted him. Spouses? His mind wasn't making anything any easier on his already exhausted emotions. We could have been. I could have been walking through my front door every morning, coming home to her arms wrapping around me, comforting me after a hard case. She would do the same, coming in the door after a hard case and letting me wrap my arms around her, comforting her, loving her.
Another thought that jolted him. Love her? Oh shit, it was worse then he thought. He could have been loving her, not just comforting her.
He stopped his car and looked up at the apartment building that was quickly becoming very familiar to him. Goddamn autopilot again. He didn't want to be here because he knew what was going to happen, what was happening, and he was helpless to stop it as his legs took him to just outside her door. He stopped his hand forcefully, however, by jamming it into his pocket. Not yet. Let me think first.
He started pacing the hallway outside her apartment. Maybe I wasn't using her for just comfort. Is it using someone if you love them? I don't think so which means two days ago I wasn't using her, I was coming home to her.
He stopped pacing as an image of him walking through his townhouse's front door, dropping his briefcase on the floor, and then him stepping into Sara's waiting arms assaulted his mind's eye. That's it.
He quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket before he could second-guess what he was about to do.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sara looked at the door warily as the knock finished echoing through her living room. She knew who it was, or at least was partly positive of who it was. Won't know unless you open the door and what if it's that neighbor lady asking for milk again? She's the only friend you have in this building so don't ignore her.
Sara stepped forward, opened the door, then immediately slammed it in his face.
"Sara, please?"
"Didn't you get the hint Grissom?"
"No, I'm not taking that hint."
"Then take this one." She opened the door again but then promptly slammed it in his face a second time. She turned and made her way to the couch, her half full beer bottle awaiting her company.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Grissom stood there and watched for a second time as the door was slammed on his face. Okay, deserved that, he thought. "Come on Sara. I want to talk to you." When he didn't get an answer, his anger boiled and he barged through, opening then slamming her door shut when he was inside.
Sara sat in shock on the couch for a second before briskly standing up and yelling, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I wanted to talk to you but you wouldn't listen if I was standing outside your door so I came in."
"So I noticed. What the hell makes you think I'll listen to you if you were inside my apartment?" Sara folded her arms across her chest in a defensive manner.
Grissom, for the first time, noticed the box in her living marked books and then saw how most of her stuff were organized to be put into their own boxes. "Sara, where are you going?"
In an act of self-protection, Sara moved behind the chair, like she did the day of her suspension, and used it as a barrier between herself and Grissom. "I'm leaving. I already told you I quit." Grissom didn't say anything, just looked at her with hurt and anger in his eyes.
"Don't Grissom. You don't get to be hurt damn it. You're the one that told me … no, told Catherine that we need to move on so I am … again. I'm moving on by moving out. I can't be around you without hurting so I have to leave."
"You're leaving me."
"I never had you so how could I be leaving you?" Sara fought back the tears that were threatening to flow.
"But you can't leave me."
Sara's hands flew to her head. "I can't leave you Griss because I need to have you in order to have the chance to leave you; and I would have never left you if I had the chance to have you."
Grissom dug his hands into his pockets forcefully to keep from throwing something.
"You're the one that said we couldn't be together. You're my supervisor, you're fifteen years older, you couldn't risk it. So don't stand there hurt and angry Grissom. You don't get to be."
"Tell me you want me."
Sara lowered her hands from her head and leaned forward, pressing her weight into the back of the chair. "You can't really be that dense can you?"
"I said, tell me you want me."
"You are that dense." She mumbled. "What is that going to prove?"
"Please?"
"Fine Grissom, I'll do you one better." Her anger was still boiling within her but the helpless look on his face made her soften her words. "I'll tell you the truth and say I want you. But I'll also tell you the one truth that I never thought I'd get the chance to tell you." Looking into his deep blue eyes, she told him, "I love you Gilbert Grissom."
She understood his shock and took the opportunity to show him just how much she knew him. "But it's too bad that you won't do anything about that." She shook her head gently and lowered her gaze to the floor.
"It's too much, I know." She knew she surprised him but this much silence was unbearable.
He finally spoke. "But," It was a single word that pissed her off.
"Right, your fears. You're too old; you're a fifty year old bachelor with a rounded belly, graying hair, and not as much stamina as a man more my age. That's right, when I get bored with you, I'm just going to up and leave and take some gorgeous, blonde haired, blue eyed, athletic hunk and move to Hawaii to have fun with him there."
She shook her head at the fear she saw in his eyes. "Grissom, damnit." She punched the chair in front of her. "That would never happen. Age doesn't matter; perfectly toned, superficial abs don't matter; your stamina doesn't matter, what you do with the time you have is what matters; and your grey hair looks amazing in contrast to your bright blue eyes. So do you see? I don't need some athletic hunk who doesn't know the two plus two. I have a distinguishly handsome, very intelligent and funny scientist who believes and likes the things I do. I've never been a superficial person and you know that."
Grissom couldn't speak. All that she had rattled off was jumbling in his over taxed brain and making it very hard for him to concentrate.
Hearing nothing but silence, she relented and lowered her eyes to the floor.
"Sara,"
She raised her watery eyes to his at the breathlessness of her name on his lips. She shook her head sadly at him and started walking slowly towards him. "I'm sorry Grissom. I understand." She was slowly closing the gap between them. "Your fears, however irrational they are, are still your fears. I just hope you're comfortable with living with them the rest of your life because," She closed the gap fully and placed a gentle, loving kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, she looked deep into his eyes and said, "Because those fears won't keep you warm at night or hold you after a hard case."
She went to walk to the door and open it for him but his hand snapped out and stopped her.
He knew what he had to do; he knew what he was going to do. And this time I'm thinking perfectly straight.
He whipped her around so that she was facing him. His left hand released her arm and grasped her right hand. "Sara,"
"No Griss, it's okay. We're moving on."
He wasn't having any of that. His right arm snaked around her waist and brought her so that her body was pressed tight against his. Sara stayed as straight as a wall, not reciprocating the hug, while his face dove into her neck and he kissed her gently.
"Please Sara. Ignore what I said earlier, that I did earlier. I wasn't thinking straight." He groaned. "You can tell I wasn't considering I was sitting there in my office talking to Catherine about something personal."
Sara couldn't help but snort at that, which gave Grissom and little hope. "Please honey, I don't want us to be over."
"There was never truly an us Griss."
"Then please, let's start an us now."
Sara tentatively wound her arms around his neck but didn't tighten her arms. "If you weren't thinking straight then, then how can I believe you're thinking straight now?"
"Do you want complete honesty?" He whispered into her hair. At her nod, he lifted his face from her neck and looked deep into her eyes. "Okay." He breathed.
"That night Sara, I was out of my head. That was the night I found Heather in the desert whipping a man to death while he was tied to the front of her truck. I had to stop her from killing the man that killed her child. I don't get it but I wanted to be right there with her whipping that man apart because I felt betrayed too. I don't get why but I did. This man, he took away the control that I admired in Heather. But, I stopped her, just in time.
I held her while she broke down in my arms. I held her as Brass and the paramedics came to the scene. Brass took her back to the station and I stood there on the other side of the glass, watching as this woman I admired for all her strength and control broke down. She was shaking and crying and just … breaking down, right there in front of my eyes.
I needed comfort after seeing that. I don't get why, I guess because I watched someone who I cared for being destroyed."
She didn't like hearing him talk about Lady Heather but she knew she asked for honesty and was glad he was willing to give it to her, showing her how much he wanted to open up to her. It helped, also, that he was in her arms telling this to her and not in Lady Heather's arms.
"I was on autopilot. I drove here without even realizing it; I walked up to your apartment without realizing it; my hand knocked on your door without realizing it. Then seeing you open the door, seeing the worry in your eyes when you asked me if I was okay, you grabbing my arm so lovingly, god, that was my undoing."
He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers as he continued on a whisper, "I wanted your comfort so bad then." He breathed deep. "Ready for an absolutely personal revolution? One that I know you won't like?" He asked as he pulled his forehead from hers slowly.
She nodded.
"Okay," Another deep breathe. "I used Lady Heather a couple years ago. It was during a case that we were investigating and I … I don't know … she understood me. Not so much understood as figured out things." He shook his head and said bluntly, "She figured out my hearing problem." He was surprised when Sara just nodded her head, not looking shocked at all. "You knew that?"
"About your hearing? Of course, we all did. We're CSIs Griss so it would be pretty bad if we couldn't figure it out."
Grissom nodded, seeing her point, and continued in a self-deprecating voice. "When I took her to bed, I was using her for her comfort and understanding. When you slammed the door shut that night, it brought me back to my senses. I thought I was using you just like I used her and I couldn't do that, not to you. I hated doing it to Heather but doing it to you would have killed me.
So I left, just like that. I knew it would hurt and confuse you but I didn't want to use you because I knew that would hurt you more. I'm not saying that I wouldn't have been there the next morning because I'm 97 percent sure I would have but the pain I would have caused you when you found out that I came to you to comfort me after I saw Heather break down, I think that would have been worse."
Sara nodded, knowing that it would have been true.
"But I was sitting outside in my car thinking the whole time and I figured it all out. With Heather, yes, I was just using her for comfort, because I knew I wouldn't gain anything more from that. But you, if I came to you, I would have gained so much more and it would have been frightening. I would have come to you not just for comfort, but also for love. I knew it wouldn't end after one time but with Heather, it could, so it didn't hurt as bad." He shrugged. "I love you Sara Sidle."
Uhhh, what? He said it so matter-of-factly that it stunned Sara as much as it would have if he had been yelling.
"It's true Sara, I just didn't think it would work because of all my fears, which you so nicely picked apart earlier." He said in a playful growl. Sara nodded, still a little stunned. "The only thing we have to worry about now is the supervisor, subordinate issue."
She shook her head. "No we don't." He raised an eyebrow, which she always found very adorable. "There's no policy against it, it's just frowned upon. Since we're both very personal people, it's not like we would be advertising it. We keep it out of the lab, we keep it out of the lime-light of the higher-ups."
He grinned mischievously at her. "You thought of everything didn't you?"
"Yep." She smiled as he leaned down and kissed her. She pulled away a second later and hit his chest lightly with her fist. "Damn it, Gil. I told myself that I wouldn't let you in again."
"It's my charms." Grissom shrugged and pulled her back to him.
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A/N2: Review! Review! How I do love your thoughts.