A New Day
By Anansay
November 14, 2003
He sees her.
He's watching her.
She doesn't know it.
But he does.
He's been watching her since that day.
No.
He's been watching her movements.
He's been listening to her voice.
He's been letting himself feel her.
He can feel when she's in the room.
He can feel when she's not.
And he can feel when she's there but not really.
His mind has been on a never-ending circuit of thoughts and ideas. He doesn't know where to start, how to organize them. They're a jumble of chaotic words and images and feelings.
But he knows he needs to do something.
And soon.
He can feel her pulling away.
and she gave up
And that's when his mind had shut down.
He could hear her words, understand their meaning. But he was powerless to respond, to get his mind to unwrap itself.
She gave up.
She doesn't look at him anymore.
She doesn't smile at him anymore.
She doesn't touch him anymore.
She doesn't stand close to him anymore.
She does her job and then she leaves.
His eyes follow her, his heart begs for his legs to take him to her. But they don't move.
He just watches her, and wonders.
"Sara," he says, when he finds her alone in the locker room. She is sitting on the bench, not moving. "Can I talk to you?"
She lifts her head and graces him with a blank stare. "What?"
"Can I talk to you?" he repeats the question, this time with a little more strength behind the words.
She still looks at him, as though seeing him for the first time. She looks dazed and confused. It's been a tough shift. He thinks maybe he should just leave. He's sure she's not the only one who's tired.
She pushes herself up from the bench and turns to him and he realizes she's put on her mask. For him, there is a mask of complacency that she presents to him: a boss/employee mask.
"Uh, over breakfast?" he asks her.
She doesn't answer for a long minute. "What?" as though she didn't really understand.
"Can I talk to you over breakfast? My treat. It's been a tough shift."
Her shoulders slump down as a heavy breath escapes her body. She closes her eyes a moment. "No," she says. "I'm just going to go home. I need to get away."
She turns to her locker and gets her coat and purse out. She turns back to him but he hasn't moved. His body is blocking the doorway.
"I'm going home, Grissom," she tells him.
He still doesn't move. Bites his lip. "Please," he says quietly.
She stares at him, her eyes travelling over his face, searching. Her brows furrow together when he takes a step toward her.
She backs up. There is a look of fear in her eyes, and trepidation.
He doesn't want to scare her, he can't really fathom why she'd be afraid. Unless He stops moving, and stares at her.
She's watching him now, her eyes wide and very much aware.
He extends his hand, just a small movement meant to pacify. He just needs her to relax, to listen. Just this once.
"Sara, I think I know."
She cocks her head. "What?"
He takes a breath. "I think I know what to do."
Her mouth works but no sound comes out. There is a sudden wildness in her eyes, like she's about to bolt.
His hand goes out a bit more. "Yes."
She takes a step back, physically affected by his one word. "What?"
"Yes, Sara, I'd like to have dinner with you."
Sara stares at him, eyes wide and mouth open. "Grissom"
"Is it too late?"
Sara swallows.
Grissom takes a step forward, his hand touches her arm. It's shaking. So is she. "Is it?"
She looks down at his hand touching her. His fingers wrap around her arm, his thumb rubs the tender flesh underside. She looks up at him. "No."
And Grissom breathes. This was a good No. A positive No, if that were possible. Grissom smiles. "Good."
the end
Copyright © 2003 Anansay