Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Spoilers: 7X23: THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE DOMINATRIX
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to its creators, so this is just a fanciful look at what the cameras don't show.
Author's Note: This story is the result of the onehour2write chat and inspired by the LFAS prompt 2 and two Cher songs "Believe" and "Strong Enough." It hasn't been beta'd so all errors are mine.
Based on Catherine and Jim's reactions at finding him at Lady Heather's house he'd imagined several different scenarios waiting for him when he finally got home. He pictured an empty house because Sara had taken the dog, choosing to leave him and Vegas. He expected a fight and perhaps more of the silent treatment, but he wasn't prepared for a blast of music and rhythmic thuds when he opened the door.
Moving through their abode he found Sara in the middle of a workout. Standing in the doorway he admired the way she moved, swift jabs and hard kicks matching the quick techno dance beat while her voice joined in the melody. Unconsciously he mirrored his stance at the hospital; he recalled watching as Sara finished documenting Heather's injuries. At the time he'd been concerned about Heather, but now he had the leisure to compare the pair.
Sara and Heather were so different from each other, but more importantly represented such different points in his life. Heather had been a fascinating and exotic opportunity, but that liaison had cracked the wall around his feelings. Loveless sex with Heather had left him sad and enlarged the abyss he'd discovered when Phillip spotlighted Sara's relationship with that EMT. After that night he'd never seriously pursued any woman other than Sara.
He hadn't noticed the song had changed until Sara suddenly stopped hitting the punching bag to lean her head against it, he didn't see the tears, but could hear them in her voice as she sang. "Where did you sleep last night? And was she worth it, was she worth it?"
"Was she worth the risk to your reputation?" She demanded as she smacked the bag. "Risking your career?" The smack of bare flesh against hard leather was louder this time. "Risking us?"
Grissom moved to catch Sara as she buckled, turning her slightly so he could hold her more securely as tears tumbled down her cheeks to soak his shirt. The fact she didn't immediately pull away gave him hope that they could talk things out. Her outburst had shown that the overheard confession to a murderer still bothered her.
She kept her back to him as she turned off the stereo and began wiping her face with a towel.
"Sweetheart are you ready to talk?" Dark hair shook in reply. "How about you take a shower while I fix some breakfast?" Her head again moved in the negative. "What do you want?"
Sara held out her hand, gripping it firmly when he took it, to lead him into the master bedroom. Halting in front of the bed she released his hand to face him. He watched her face, not noticing that she was lifting her t-shirt up revealing her stomach's ivory skin or the black spandex of her sports bra. It was only when the remaining cotton was swept over her head that he recognized her actions.
"I want to make you happy." She whispered dropping the fabric to the floor and stepping into his personal space.
"I just couldn't stand by let Heather be killed without trying to help." His fingers traced her tear stained cheek. "Sara you are the most important thing in my life and I'm sorry if last night made you doubt it for a second." Her smile and nod were both small. "Happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have. William Shakespeare."
Her throaty laughter was punctuated by sighs as he trailed kisses up to her ear and hands stroked over bare skin. "Only you would quote The Bard while seducing a half naked woman."