Just a little something I came up with during a bout of insomnia. My first GSR story and only my 3rd attempt at fanfic. This includes spoilers for season 6, specifically 6x03- Bite Me and 6x05 Gum Drops. This was un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. I just wrote this in one shot, and wanted to post it.
This is dedicated to all of the amazing writers at YTDAW. I am not even close to having a figment amount of talent that you all have, but because of your magnificent work, you make me want to try something new.
Grissom shifted his position again, the frame of the bed creaking mercifully as he did so. It felt as if he had been laying here for hours. In reality it had only been about forty-five minutes, but the time seemed to drag along with his heart. Gil Grissom was not one to let himself get emotionally involved in cases. It didn't help the victim, it didn't help the evidence, and it certainly didn't help him. This case, for whatever reason, was different. Not only did it effect him; it also effected the improvements he had made with Sara.
He had blown up at her earlier- for what he couldn't remember- the memory of his words were hazy, but he could still see the pained look that was reflected in her eyes. She thought that she was good at hiding things from Grissom, but he knew better. He had observed her from afar long enough to know when she was hurt. Hell, he'd done it to her enough times to know that look. And he'd be dammed if he was going to let anything change now. He knew the tentative advancements he had made seemed miniscule to the rest of the world, but he couldn't- and wouldn't- let things change with Sara.
He kicked his legs out from under the top sheet, his limbs getting tangled as he did so. He sat up in bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Migraine. Been awhile since he had one of these. He shuffled past the other bed, quiet mummers coming from Greg.
Flicking on the light as he made it into the bathroom he immediately regretted his action, the sharp buzz of the florescent fixture as the light snapped on was almost too much for his head to handle. He cracked open his prescription bottle of Imitrex, popped two pills in his mouth and washed them down with a handful of tap water.
He walked back to his bed slowly, not wanting to wake Greg up. Grissom sat in the middle of his bed, feeling defeated. After giving more thought to the situation, he knew he had to do something about his encounter with Sara earlier. Grabbing his room card from the night table he made his way to the door. He opened it as quietly as he could, sneaking out when he had it open wide enough to exit.
As he was walking down the hall towards Sara's room, a thought entered his brain and he stopped abruptly in the hall. What am I going to use as an excuse for her to talk to me? He thought. He was certain that if he was going there for personal reasons that she would slam the door in his face. He needed something neutral to persuade her. He didn't even realize he had reached her door and begun to knock until her could hear her saying "Just a sec." from the other side of the wooden frame. He figured that her face would be grim as she realized her visitor was the man who snapped at her in front of their co-worker, but her face looked surprised. She furrowed her eyebrows, not expecting to see him there.
He stood silent for a moment; his arms were at his sides, his index fingers and thumbs tapping together, a nervous habit he had picked up on the job. He shrugged his shoulders a bit before replying with the only thing he could think of; "Greg snores."
She looked at him curiously, but without saying a word, she opened her door and allowed him to follow her inside.
It was only now that he realized how… pretty she looked. She sported purple lounge pants and a gray tank top, feet bare, her hair in ringlets around her face, still partly wet. She seemed oblivious to his examination however, and while he stood at the foot of her bed, she got under the covers, picking up some photos from the floor. He was still standing there as she was looking at one particular photo, her face contorted in concentration.
"That from the case?" he asked, still standing in his previous position, not sure where else to move.
"Yeah, the whole thing's been driving me crazy, so I'm just going over pictures of the crime scene. Thought I might have missed something." She finally looked up at him, the expression on his face making her curious.
"You ok?" she asked, not sure why he was looking so melancholy.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly, not sure what else to tell her.
"For what?" she asked, perplexed as to what he had done to make him feel the need to apologize.
"I snapped at you earlier Sara, and I shouldn't have. Especially in front of Warrick. If I had a problem with something, I should have talked to you privately about it." He let out a long sigh. "As much as I hate to admit it, this case is making me a bit crazy too." She smiled up at him, that half grin that she seemed to always consume her face in his presence.
"Gil, it's fine. Really. And I accept your apology." She winked at him to show there were no hard feelings, and that she had finally taken him up on his suggestion that she call him by his first name when they were outside of the lab. The tension in his gut was still eating at him though. He felt horrible that she still forgave him so easily. After all that he's done, he strung her along for years, and yet she still accepts his apology even when he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.
The quiet sound of her patting the mattress snapped him out of his thoughts. "Come here." She half-whispered the command, but he could still hear her. He questioned the situation for a moment, hesitating about whether or not he should join her. He reflected back for a moment on the last time they were in a bedroom together. They were conversing about the case, but there was something strictly personal about the conversation as well. He decided to throw caution to the wind and join her on the left side of the bed.
She pushed the covers down on his side, allowing him to slip under them. He wasn't quite sure where the boundaries were or how close he should lay to her, but she seemed to read his mind as she curled around him, squirming her chin into the crevice between his neck and shoulders. He took a moment to breathe in her scent then leaned in to kiss her temple.
"I'm sorry." he whispered the sentiment again, the words light against her skin. He tentatively placed his hand on the groove of her hip. He still had other places of hers to explore, but this was still his favorite. There was something about the slight protrusion of bone and the valley that followed that he found erotic.
She crooked a leg and shimmed it between his two, lightly rubbing his tight calf muscles. She took another moment before replying back to him.
"And you're a liar." She stated as she drew him closer to her, a slight smirk forming on her lips, "Greg doesn't snore."