Title: The Encounter
Author: Battus philenor
Disclaimer: I have no claim to anything CSI. I get nothing from this but happiness from taking the G/S ship farther than those who do own CSI.
He felt as if his balls had been sucked up into his abdomen, as a cold tingling feeling broke out over his body. It started off as fear, complete and undeniable, but as the evidence was learned, it quickly turned into pure panic.
He had been at a crime scene with Sara and Catherine. It was a double homicide. The parents were dead and the sixteen and fourteen year old daughters were missing. An Amber Alert had been issued and every cop in the state was on the look out. No one was quite sure if they should fear for them or be afraid of them. It was just too soon to be certain.
He was upstairs in the master bedroom where the mother's body had been found. Catherine was in the 2nd upstairs bathroom with the body of the father, and Sara was down stairs dusting for prints on the door and anywhere else she could think of.
Grissom was on his knees bent over the corpse when he first heard it. Not quite sure what it was, he ignored it at first, but when he heard it again, he became too curious. It was some sort of wailing. The pitch was too low to be a siren and he didn't believe a swarm of bees would happen by at 2:43 in the morning.
That was when the realization of what the noise was started to form in his brain. He never once worried about Catherine, she was upstairs, but Sara was closer to where the sound was emanating from, and the fear hit him.
He croaked out something in a weak voice that was supposed to be her name, but ended up sounding like nothing at all in his ears. He tried to jump up quickly and run downstairs, but movement eluded him. He was left feeling as if he were trying to run under water.
As he finally reached the bedroom doorway he took a split second to glance down the hallway before proceeding. He could see Catherine running so she had apparently also heard the wailing voice. Yes, it was a voice. He tried to convince himself that it was anything but a human female voice, but he was running out of other plausible options. Then he realized the voice was moaning his name.
Catherine was flying down the stairs way ahead of him, and at that moment he was grateful that she was with them. She would get to Sara before him and take care of the situation, whatever it was. He continued moving as quickly as his body would allow, but in all honesty he was terrified as to what he would see when he finally got down there.
He had never been so frightened, and he began having flashes of his future. A future that he feared would never happen now. He could see himself and Sara with their unborn children; at that moment when her life was in peril, he could no longer deny his feelings for her.
He was in a total panic by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs in search of his Sara. He could hear Catherine's voice, low and soothing before he saw anything. He turned towards it and saw her strawberry blonde hair much too low to the ground. It dawned on him that she was kneeling. Kneeling over what looked like a body.
"Oh God, Sara!"
He had to grab onto the railing to keep from falling down; his knees gave out as he continued to see the images of their future family. He could see his eyes in a beautiful curly haired boy standing next to a girl who was looking up at him with a wide, gap toothed grin.
Clinging to the banister, he managed to pull himself back up and block the heart wrenching pictures from his brain. He managed the last fifteen feet to Sara as the bile rose in the back of his throat. He didn't want to look down, but he had to see.
His colorless face, eyes wet with unshed tears turned and looked down at the woman he knew would be his wife if he could just get the nerve up to ask her out on a date.
She was sitting up with her legs crumpled underneath her, and had a hand placed on the back of her head looking up at him with fear in her eyes. She wasn't dead. He collapsed at her feet and took up her hand that was resting on her right knee.
Catherine who had been tending to her friend's head wound looked up in shock at their boss. She had never seen him look so frightened. She witnessed a single tear escaping over his eyelid. It rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his beard. Had it not been for the still wet track it left behind, she would have thought she imagined it from her normally stoic friend.
"I think you'll be fine kiddo." Catherine said as she dragged her eyes away from Grissom and back to her injured colleague.
"Thanks Catherine, and please don't tell the guys ok?" Sara gave her a sheepish grin and turned with a confused look to the man who would not let go of her hand.
Catherine sensed a 'moment' coming on and excused herself to go back upstairs to finish processing the scene.
Grissom had collected himself enough to realize that Sara looked ok, but not enough to let go of her hand.
"Sara, what happened?"
"Oh God Grissom, it's embarrassing. Please don't laugh."
"Sara. I don't think I could if I tried right now."
She let out a heavy sigh and winced at the pain on the back of her head. Grissom moved around quickly to take a look at it for her.
"Sara, tell me what happened, you're bleeding!"
"Well, it looked like something had been burned very recently in the fire place. So I was bending down to take samples of the ashes. I stood back up under the stupid mantle and cracked the heck out of my head."
Grissom was temporarily relieved that nobody had laid a hand on her.
"Sara you were moaning my name."
"Huh, I was?" Her face reddened. She tried to think of a quick excuse, but couldn't come up with a good one. "I guess I sort of blacked out or something. I must have been trying to call to you guys upstairs."
"That's it. I'm calling an ambulance. You need to get this checked out, you probably have a concussion."
"No, Grissom! Please?" She was nearly whining now. "Please don't call an ambulance. I'll never live this down. I'll go home, or whatever you want, just please don't do that to me ok?"
"Ok. Wait here. Are you ok to sit by your self for a minute?"
She answered affirmatively and hung her head hating that she had sounded so needy to him. She was thoroughly embarrassed and just wanted to go home and hide, but part of her was unbelievably curious about Grissom's reaction to her when he had come downstairs to check out her accident.
He came back after a minute and helped her to her feet. She seemed a little woozy, but he figured she was probably ok, and there was really no need to go to the hospital. They would probably just tell her to go home, take some aspirin and rest.
Grissom helped Sara into his passenger seat, and drove to her house. He helped her out of the truck when they arrived, and then upstairs to her apartment. After searching through her purse for a minute, she gave up and handed it to Grissom to look for her keys.
Grissom was a little apprehensive about going through her purse, but curious at the same time. The only purses he had previously gone through were that of dead women at crime scenes, not somebody he was attracted to. He found he was excited at the prospect of going through some of Sara's private belongings.
When he opened the purse the first thing he saw was a tampon, which surely squashed any excitement for him. His face immediately turned a deep shade of crimson as he tried to look past the item in search of her elusive keys.
Sara watched him in fascination, wondering how a fifty year old man could blush over a tampon. This man who was so intelligent and so well respected in his field was blushing like a teenager. Sara couldn't help the grin that spread over her face at this adorable man.
Grissom found the keys and turned his still red face towards Sara with pride at being able to help. He was baffled as to why she was grinning at him, but took it to mean she was thankful he had found the keys.
"Sara, which key is for your door?"
He held them up for her to point it out. She went to grab it for him and their hands bumped together. She didn't move her hand she merely picked the key out and waited for him to move.
Grissom found he was unable to remove his eyes from their hands. He finally realized she had picked out the correct key for him. He cleared his throat and slowly pulled his hand away from hers.
He risked a glance at her face and was surprised to see her smiling back at him. He blushed again and turned his attention back to the door. He got it unlocked and let Sara lead the way inside.
She directed him where to put her purse and she sat down on the couch. Grissom followed her standing in front of her awkwardly.
"Sara, I need to clean that wound on your head. Do you have any peroxide?"
"Grissom! You are not putting peroxide in my hair!"
"Oh, yeah. Good thinking. I guess you really don't want to have a blond spot huh? Well, do you have any bactine or anything? I mean it was a fireplace Sara, that thing was probably filthy."
"I don't know. Just go look in my medicine cabinet will you?"
He stood where he was remembering the purse incident and his face started to turn red yet again.
"Grissom. God, my 'personal products' are under the sink, so you should be fine in the medicine cabinet." She couldn't help but giggle at him.
The redness in his face darkened and he turned to go to the bathroom without saying a word. He was gone for what seemed like forever, but Sara figured he was trying to compose himself.
When he came back out he had a damp wash cloth, a dry wash cloth, some cotton balls, aspirin, and the bactine. Sara felt the need to apologize for embarrassing him.
"Grissom, I'm sorry I embarrassed you. It was just so cute that you kept blushing like a school boy."
"It was just, odd that's all. I mean when I think of you, I don't imagine those kinds of things, you know?"
"When you think of me? What kinds of things do you imagine?" She was trying to act shocked, but she let a small smile creep to her face.
"Can we just drop this, so I can clean that gash on the back of your head please?"
Sara turned sideways on the couch. Grissom sat down next to her so he could see the back of her head. He got the wet wash cloth and gently started wiping the blood away.
Sara figured this was her chance to find out what had happened with him at the house.
"Grissom?"
"Yes Sara?"
"A tear ran down your face earlier."
He stopped wiping her head momentarily. He did not want to discuss this now. Why did she have to be so direct? Why couldn't she let him do this when he was ready?
"Yes."
This man would not give anything up easily. What was wrong with him?
"Why?"
"Because, I was scared something bad had happened to you."
"So, you were worried about me?"
"Yes of course."
"Hmmm. Catherine didn't cry over me."
"No, she didn't. I guess she doesn't feel the same way about you that I do."
His hands were no longer wiping at the blood, they were running lovingly through her hair. He figured he might as well go all the way here. He removed his hands from her hair and brought them to her shoulders gently turning her to face him.
There was a look of apprehension on her face, but it melted away when she saw nothing but love in his eyes.
"I love you Sara. I don't know why it took me being scared to death to make me realize it, but it did. A part of me wanted to die when I thought you had been seriously hurt. I realized I could never live without you, but I have been living without you for too long now. I want you in my life. I need you in my life Sara."
She'd known this man for so many years now, and she was impressed that he could still amaze her. She was never so happy that she had hurt herself.
"I love you too."
End
Battus philenor
Author: Battus philenor
Disclaimer: I have no claim to anything CSI. I get nothing from this but happiness from taking the G/S ship farther than those who do own CSI.
He felt as if his balls had been sucked up into his abdomen, as a cold tingling feeling broke out over his body. It started off as fear, complete and undeniable, but as the evidence was learned, it quickly turned into pure panic.
He had been at a crime scene with Sara and Catherine. It was a double homicide. The parents were dead and the sixteen and fourteen year old daughters were missing. An Amber Alert had been issued and every cop in the state was on the look out. No one was quite sure if they should fear for them or be afraid of them. It was just too soon to be certain.
He was upstairs in the master bedroom where the mother's body had been found. Catherine was in the 2nd upstairs bathroom with the body of the father, and Sara was down stairs dusting for prints on the door and anywhere else she could think of.
Grissom was on his knees bent over the corpse when he first heard it. Not quite sure what it was, he ignored it at first, but when he heard it again, he became too curious. It was some sort of wailing. The pitch was too low to be a siren and he didn't believe a swarm of bees would happen by at 2:43 in the morning.
That was when the realization of what the noise was started to form in his brain. He never once worried about Catherine, she was upstairs, but Sara was closer to where the sound was emanating from, and the fear hit him.
He croaked out something in a weak voice that was supposed to be her name, but ended up sounding like nothing at all in his ears. He tried to jump up quickly and run downstairs, but movement eluded him. He was left feeling as if he were trying to run under water.
As he finally reached the bedroom doorway he took a split second to glance down the hallway before proceeding. He could see Catherine running so she had apparently also heard the wailing voice. Yes, it was a voice. He tried to convince himself that it was anything but a human female voice, but he was running out of other plausible options. Then he realized the voice was moaning his name.
Catherine was flying down the stairs way ahead of him, and at that moment he was grateful that she was with them. She would get to Sara before him and take care of the situation, whatever it was. He continued moving as quickly as his body would allow, but in all honesty he was terrified as to what he would see when he finally got down there.
He had never been so frightened, and he began having flashes of his future. A future that he feared would never happen now. He could see himself and Sara with their unborn children; at that moment when her life was in peril, he could no longer deny his feelings for her.
He was in a total panic by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs in search of his Sara. He could hear Catherine's voice, low and soothing before he saw anything. He turned towards it and saw her strawberry blonde hair much too low to the ground. It dawned on him that she was kneeling. Kneeling over what looked like a body.
"Oh God, Sara!"
He had to grab onto the railing to keep from falling down; his knees gave out as he continued to see the images of their future family. He could see his eyes in a beautiful curly haired boy standing next to a girl who was looking up at him with a wide, gap toothed grin.
Clinging to the banister, he managed to pull himself back up and block the heart wrenching pictures from his brain. He managed the last fifteen feet to Sara as the bile rose in the back of his throat. He didn't want to look down, but he had to see.
His colorless face, eyes wet with unshed tears turned and looked down at the woman he knew would be his wife if he could just get the nerve up to ask her out on a date.
She was sitting up with her legs crumpled underneath her, and had a hand placed on the back of her head looking up at him with fear in her eyes. She wasn't dead. He collapsed at her feet and took up her hand that was resting on her right knee.
Catherine who had been tending to her friend's head wound looked up in shock at their boss. She had never seen him look so frightened. She witnessed a single tear escaping over his eyelid. It rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his beard. Had it not been for the still wet track it left behind, she would have thought she imagined it from her normally stoic friend.
"I think you'll be fine kiddo." Catherine said as she dragged her eyes away from Grissom and back to her injured colleague.
"Thanks Catherine, and please don't tell the guys ok?" Sara gave her a sheepish grin and turned with a confused look to the man who would not let go of her hand.
Catherine sensed a 'moment' coming on and excused herself to go back upstairs to finish processing the scene.
Grissom had collected himself enough to realize that Sara looked ok, but not enough to let go of her hand.
"Sara, what happened?"
"Oh God Grissom, it's embarrassing. Please don't laugh."
"Sara. I don't think I could if I tried right now."
She let out a heavy sigh and winced at the pain on the back of her head. Grissom moved around quickly to take a look at it for her.
"Sara, tell me what happened, you're bleeding!"
"Well, it looked like something had been burned very recently in the fire place. So I was bending down to take samples of the ashes. I stood back up under the stupid mantle and cracked the heck out of my head."
Grissom was temporarily relieved that nobody had laid a hand on her.
"Sara you were moaning my name."
"Huh, I was?" Her face reddened. She tried to think of a quick excuse, but couldn't come up with a good one. "I guess I sort of blacked out or something. I must have been trying to call to you guys upstairs."
"That's it. I'm calling an ambulance. You need to get this checked out, you probably have a concussion."
"No, Grissom! Please?" She was nearly whining now. "Please don't call an ambulance. I'll never live this down. I'll go home, or whatever you want, just please don't do that to me ok?"
"Ok. Wait here. Are you ok to sit by your self for a minute?"
She answered affirmatively and hung her head hating that she had sounded so needy to him. She was thoroughly embarrassed and just wanted to go home and hide, but part of her was unbelievably curious about Grissom's reaction to her when he had come downstairs to check out her accident.
He came back after a minute and helped her to her feet. She seemed a little woozy, but he figured she was probably ok, and there was really no need to go to the hospital. They would probably just tell her to go home, take some aspirin and rest.
Grissom helped Sara into his passenger seat, and drove to her house. He helped her out of the truck when they arrived, and then upstairs to her apartment. After searching through her purse for a minute, she gave up and handed it to Grissom to look for her keys.
Grissom was a little apprehensive about going through her purse, but curious at the same time. The only purses he had previously gone through were that of dead women at crime scenes, not somebody he was attracted to. He found he was excited at the prospect of going through some of Sara's private belongings.
When he opened the purse the first thing he saw was a tampon, which surely squashed any excitement for him. His face immediately turned a deep shade of crimson as he tried to look past the item in search of her elusive keys.
Sara watched him in fascination, wondering how a fifty year old man could blush over a tampon. This man who was so intelligent and so well respected in his field was blushing like a teenager. Sara couldn't help the grin that spread over her face at this adorable man.
Grissom found the keys and turned his still red face towards Sara with pride at being able to help. He was baffled as to why she was grinning at him, but took it to mean she was thankful he had found the keys.
"Sara, which key is for your door?"
He held them up for her to point it out. She went to grab it for him and their hands bumped together. She didn't move her hand she merely picked the key out and waited for him to move.
Grissom found he was unable to remove his eyes from their hands. He finally realized she had picked out the correct key for him. He cleared his throat and slowly pulled his hand away from hers.
He risked a glance at her face and was surprised to see her smiling back at him. He blushed again and turned his attention back to the door. He got it unlocked and let Sara lead the way inside.
She directed him where to put her purse and she sat down on the couch. Grissom followed her standing in front of her awkwardly.
"Sara, I need to clean that wound on your head. Do you have any peroxide?"
"Grissom! You are not putting peroxide in my hair!"
"Oh, yeah. Good thinking. I guess you really don't want to have a blond spot huh? Well, do you have any bactine or anything? I mean it was a fireplace Sara, that thing was probably filthy."
"I don't know. Just go look in my medicine cabinet will you?"
He stood where he was remembering the purse incident and his face started to turn red yet again.
"Grissom. God, my 'personal products' are under the sink, so you should be fine in the medicine cabinet." She couldn't help but giggle at him.
The redness in his face darkened and he turned to go to the bathroom without saying a word. He was gone for what seemed like forever, but Sara figured he was trying to compose himself.
When he came back out he had a damp wash cloth, a dry wash cloth, some cotton balls, aspirin, and the bactine. Sara felt the need to apologize for embarrassing him.
"Grissom, I'm sorry I embarrassed you. It was just so cute that you kept blushing like a school boy."
"It was just, odd that's all. I mean when I think of you, I don't imagine those kinds of things, you know?"
"When you think of me? What kinds of things do you imagine?" She was trying to act shocked, but she let a small smile creep to her face.
"Can we just drop this, so I can clean that gash on the back of your head please?"
Sara turned sideways on the couch. Grissom sat down next to her so he could see the back of her head. He got the wet wash cloth and gently started wiping the blood away.
Sara figured this was her chance to find out what had happened with him at the house.
"Grissom?"
"Yes Sara?"
"A tear ran down your face earlier."
He stopped wiping her head momentarily. He did not want to discuss this now. Why did she have to be so direct? Why couldn't she let him do this when he was ready?
"Yes."
This man would not give anything up easily. What was wrong with him?
"Why?"
"Because, I was scared something bad had happened to you."
"So, you were worried about me?"
"Yes of course."
"Hmmm. Catherine didn't cry over me."
"No, she didn't. I guess she doesn't feel the same way about you that I do."
His hands were no longer wiping at the blood, they were running lovingly through her hair. He figured he might as well go all the way here. He removed his hands from her hair and brought them to her shoulders gently turning her to face him.
There was a look of apprehension on her face, but it melted away when she saw nothing but love in his eyes.
"I love you Sara. I don't know why it took me being scared to death to make me realize it, but it did. A part of me wanted to die when I thought you had been seriously hurt. I realized I could never live without you, but I have been living without you for too long now. I want you in my life. I need you in my life Sara."
She'd known this man for so many years now, and she was impressed that he could still amaze her. She was never so happy that she had hurt herself.
"I love you too."
End
Battus philenor