Disclaimer: Nothing's mine!

A/N: I just love Grissom too much not to do his take on things... R&R please!

Almost Silence

The glass paperweight was held almost gingerly in his hands. Suspended in its centre was a block of amber with a rare spider in its centre, preserved for all eternity, its natural beauty and elegance always fascinating him. Gil Grissom, passionate entomologist, always liked to sink his mind into something as peaceful as this when he came into the office. Just for a few moments, before he was required to become Gil Grissom, night-shift team leader, level three CSI.

"Alright..."

He put the heavy globe back down onto the cluttered desk with a sigh, picking up a large file instead. Nick needed this... Where would he be on a relatively quiet evening? The cafeteria, probably. Grissom left the office, turning his thoughts onto something else. He wondered if Sara would show up today, having been in such a state the night before. He had done the right thing by personally taking her home, hadn't he? Surely that was alright. He had always felt responsible and strangely protective of her.

Grissom was so busy wrapped up in his thoughts and scanning the contents of the file, he didn't even see the woman in front of him. He stopped walking just in time, and, letting out a small exclamation, his mind immediately went into turmoil again. He took an involuntary step back.

Sara.

Grissom saw the dark circles under her eyes, her weary expression, and slight slouch. Sara hardly ever slouched. He tried to smile at her, and then walked on by. He knew her, and the last thing she would want would be people fussing over her. The best thing to do would be to let her deal with it in her own time - she was more than capable of that.

"Grissom."

The call stopped him in his tracks again, and he turned, slightly curious. Sara looked tense and awkward, and his heart immediately took on a twisting sensation on her behalf. She was just too young.

"You got a second?"

He nodded, his eyebrows rising a little higher. "Yeah."

Them he realised what she meant, and led the way back to his office. She could just want to talk about something work-related, but was that what he wanted? What did he want? When they entered the privacy of his office, Grissom felt as nervous as Sara looked, but acted as normal. She avoided his eyes.

"I needed to talk."

Grissom waited, his patience long developed from regular interrogation sessions of both the innocent and the guilty. Sara Sidle wasn't just someone in a case though. If she really wanted to talk to him, she would. And if she dismissed it now, he would let her walk away. He always let her walk away.

Her eyes were still flickering around his office, resting on some of his more exotic specimens. Grissom felt his morale sinking a little at her expression. He knew that everybody thought his bug 'obsession' a little strange, but he realised he wanted Sara's approval and acceptance of such an important part of his life more than he wanted it from anybody else. Finally, her eyes stopped and rested on the floor.

"I – uh... just wanted to a – apologise to you. So, um, I'm sorry."

Grissom was struck temporarily speechless. What was she apologising to him for? Surely she didn't think that he would hold a grudging blame against what she had done? It was just a mistake that anybody could have made, and nothing major had come from it really. He shook his head, settling for a firm but hopefully gentle tone.

"You don't have to apologise."

"No, I do. I'm sorry, Grissom. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused. I –"

Sara was looking increasingly upset. Grissom winced, hating to see her upsetting herself like this. He didn't look away from her, even though her eyes were still fixed on the ground.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry, it's just that I –"

"Sara."

Her voice trailed away, and he registered her defensively folded arms. He didn't know what she was feeling exactly, but he knew it would not be anything that she wanted. Sara didn't know that her attraction to him was mutual, and silently but so strongly returned. She was, probably unconsciously, chewing her lip. That was always an uncharacteristic sign of uncertainty or nervousness in her.

"Sara. Listen to me. You don't have to apologise."

And then she looked up, and he was caught. It was just those eyes. They were brown – a normal, usual shade of brown – but perhaps it was because he knew the mind and soul behind those eyes and loved the woman so much that made them look different. Grissom had learnt, in the many years that they had known each other, all the subtle emotions that could be played out in those eyes. When she was working on a case, they would fill with a determined kind of fire that people had so often commented of in himself. When she was content or thoughtful, they would soften to the point of looking like cocoa. When she laughed, they lit up and brightened whatever room she was in with their beauty. And when she was upset... those eyes within themselves would contain such a heart-wrenching pain that sometimes he could hardly bear to look at her directly.

And right now, her eyes and his were connected with such intensity that Grissom didn't want to break that invisible link between them, but she was so young, and she was looking at him so expectantly... And he suddenly realised that they were standing close, much too close, to one another.

I don't want to hurt you, but I can't do this...

"Sara..."

"Yeah?"

As he had both hoped and feared, her voice was soft, almost breathless. Hating himself, and still not looking away from her, he moved the hand still carrying the file.

"Can you find Nick and give him this?"

Sara looked as though she had just been jolted back to awareness of time and place. She was the one whose eyes slid away, and as she took the file from him, Grissom knew that he had indeed just hurt her again. Without speaking she opened the door. Just this once, he let himself say something to her retreating back.

"Sara."

His chest felt physically painful when she turned around rapidly, the tentative hope shining in those eyes again. As always, he brushed the feeling aside.

"Take care of yourself."

He saw her expression close off. "Thanks."

And when she walked away, he sat down at the desk and lowered his head into his hands. Even the warm glow of the amber in the paperweight did nothing to calm or comfort him. It was just so hard to let her go without a fight against that cool, emotionless, reasoning voice inside his head, and he loved her too much to not allow himself to knowingly hurt her a little bit.

What had she said to him that night? By the time he figured it out, he might be too late...

"Figured it out already, honey," he whispered.

The real problem was acting on his feelings. Every time they met, he wanted, needed to show them, and every time it was just so hard. But as long as Sara remained in Las Vegas, Grissom would hold onto his own sliver of hope. It wouldn't happen any time soon, but maybe someday, something could work out for them. Just for them. Maybe.