Rating: T

Spoilers: None

Word Count: 893

Disclaimers: Anyone who wants to sue me over me using these characters is really wasting their time - you can't squeeze blood from a stone.

Author's Note: This has been patiently waiting semi-completed on my harddrive for a ridiculously long time. School's done for the year so I thought it was high time I got off my duff and finished it. Voila!


Water Therapy

by Lapsus Stili

It was an extravagance. The mammoth whirlpool tub that they invested in when they renovated the master ensuite shortly after Sara moved in was almost big enough to sport a diving board in Gil's opinion. He was a shower kind of guy himself, as most men are. He didn't understand the need for candles or sound systems or aromatherapy in a bathroom. It all seemed a little frivolous and silly. In his mind, you bathe to get clean and you get the hell out. Besides, lounging about in hot water was way too uncomfortable - "the boys" can't handle that kind of simmering. Sara, however, loved a nice long soak. She could easily be in there for an hour. But… it was her only request, and really, he was happy to oblige her with this indulgence.

What she didn't tell him was that it wasn't just a pampering thing. It was a much needed therapy. The last thing she wanted was to seem weak in his eyes, but there were some days, some shifts, some cases that dug into her skin and bored tunnels straight to her heart. Few things could help ease that pain. She drank for a bit, but that only dulled it briefly and brought with it all kinds of unpleasant side effects, like hangovers, DUI's, and crushing humiliation. Yoga classes were a pain to get to with her schedule, so she eventually worked out her own little home routine instead. A cleansing combination of imagery, deep breathing, and her own take on hydrotherapy was just what the doctor ordered. Like salve on a festering wound, the warm water drew out the pain and tension, soothing her soul.

Some months later Gil came home and dropped his keys on the hall table. The low rumble let him know that the jets were running upstairs. Normally he would leave her be so she could enjoy a little privacy for her soak, but today's case had him in knots and he needed to see her, even if only to sit on the bathroom floor and hold her hand while she indulged in her stolen moments of luxury.

The shades were drawn in the bedroom and he could see a flickering glow beneath the bathroom door. When he pushed it open, his intended greeting lodged in his throat as he took in the sight of her. Sara was lying back, head resting on a rolled up towel, up to her shoulders in bubbling water and weeping quietly in the shimmering candlelight. Tears poured freely down her face until they crept around under her chin and followed her neck down into the tiny waves swirling around her. A fist of pain clamped around Grissom's heart and he was at her side in an instant. He spoke her name just as he ran the backs of his fingers down her damp cheek. Her eyes flew open and she jolted away from his touch, creating a small tidal wave that sloshed over onto his clothes. He had scared the hell out of her, but as soon as she realized it was him the look of fear on her face melted back into one of deep sadness.

"I'm sorry I startled you Sweetheart, but… what's wrong?"

Now that she knew she had an audience, her hand stole up to cover her eyes. She was trying to wipe away her tears when his gentle hand closed around her wrist and pulled it back. He wasn't going to let this go - the jig was up.

"Talk to me Sara."

With the way he was looking at her, all tender and sweet and caring, all she could do was bite her lower lip and shake her head before finally losing the battle. One shuddering gasp and she was sobbing all over again.

Without another word Grissom stood, undressed, and stepped in at the other end. He ignored his skin's protest at the sudden change of temperature. Leaning forward he gathered the broken woman in his arms and carefully pulled her around until she was curled up on his lap. He cradled her against his chest and settled back against the sloped end. The water sloshed around them both and Grissom wasn't sure which was hotter – the bath water or his girlfriend's tears trickling onto his sternum.

Slowly, as his hand stroked her hair, Sara's crying subsided. The intervals between her trembling sighs were increasing and eventually she calmed completely. He didn't rush her, just continued to hold her tight. As they lay there in the steam he thought back to other times when he'd heard the jets of this tub running and quickly figured out her secret. Although he knew that he couldn't protect her from the horrors they faced on the job, he would gladly let her find refuge in his arms, and if the bathtub was where she felt safest to let it all out, then that was where he'd offer himself.

Pressing his lips gently to the top of her head he murmured, "I'll always be here for you."

At first she could only hunker closer into his arms in response. She was touched at his unwavering acceptance of this part of her. It shouldn't have surprised her but somehow it did. When at last she found her voice, it came out in a rough whisper.

"Thank you."