Just a little post-show rambling...I'm not even sure if it makes sense. lol...just a thought I had watching the gag GSR scene at the end of tonight's show. Definitely not intended for GSR fans...

Jenny

Do You Trust Me

"Do you trust me?" Sara asked, eyeing the sharp blade in one hand before glancing up to her boyfriend's lathered face.

She took a step closer to him, blade in hand, noticing how the light seemed to reflect nicely off of the shiny metal. This would do, this would definitely do.

She couldn't help but remember the past as she stood in the bathroom she shared with her boss and lover. The rejection, the cold shoulder, the constant questioning of her work, of her personal life….they were all on the forefront of her mind, along with the condescending tones and looks he had given her every so often for as long as they had known each other. Even after they were dating, it never really changed. He left her for a month, completely alone, without even discussing it with her first. Instead of a letter or a postcard, he sends a cocoon without even a simple "hello" written on the paper it was wrapped in. How was she meant to take that? Those actions were not the actions of a loving boyfriend.

She felt a flutter of anxiety ripple through her stomach, and she unintentionally gripped the scalpel harder. He trusted her? What a pity she didn't trust him.

Memories of her mother flashed through her eyes, the gleam of the knife the night her father was murdered, the red, coppery blood that flowed freely from his wounds as their family's struggle seemingly ended. Of course, she knew how the rest of the story panned out…every time you think you've experienced the worst life has to throw your way, something monumentally worse comes along to make you wish you were still immersed in your older, simpler problems.

Maybe it was men in general, were they all untrustworthy? Did they all aim to shatter your heart and life? Wearing a tight, wry smile she took another step towards Grissom's waiting form.

Right now, she had two choices. She could either scrape the graying hair off of Grissom's rough face, or she could aim for the jugular.

She lifted the blade, taking a deep breath, it was now or never. Her hand hovered over his face, his breath warming her cold hands, "Well?"

The comb and blade fell to the floor as his voice echoed through the bathroom, startling Sara out of her dazed thoughts.

"Sara?"

Or there was the third option…

She struggled to understand what her body was telling her, and after a few moments of hesitation, she shrugged slightly, her teary eyes meeting his concerned ones, "I can't do this anymore."

"Shaving? That's okay, I can do it myself." Grissom replied gently, trying to understand Sara's sudden shift in behavior, "I don't mind…"

Sara shook her head, clenching her fists together, "No, you don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

Sara gestured from him back to herself, "This, I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry…I just can't."

And without another word, she turned and walked from the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

The End.