"Do you trust me?" Sara held the blade in her hand, a slight smirk on her face as she turned to face Grissom.
"Intimately." Grissom stared into Sara's eyes, and gave her a soft smile. He did trust her. If anything were to be considered constant in Grissom's life, it was Sara. Ever since he returned from Williams he knew that he couldn't live without her. Most waking moments during his sabbatical were spent thinking of her. He thought that if he left Las Vegas things might change – and it scared him. But it wasn't true. Now, more than ever, he felt as though he was eternally connected to Sara. She defined him.
Grissom turned his head to allow her access to the right side of his overgrown beard.
"I can't believe you still own one of these old-fashioned razors," Sara commented.
"It's a much cleaner shave than you can get from any of today's products – even the Mach III can't get as close." Grissom paused. "My mother used to help my father shave."
Sara eyed him contemplatively, searching for the deeper meaning his words might hold. "As mundane and perfunctory as it is, I can't escape the feeling that this is a defining moment in our relationship. Am I wrong?" Sara held her breath.
Grissom, caught off-guard by her question, sighed. He didn't know how to respond. Of course it was a defining moment – he was letting her in, completely. He trusted her with his heart, his life. But how does one admit that openly?
'Do you consider this a defining moment Sara?" Grissom deflected the question.
Sara smiled. "Yes I do. But, the question, Dr. Grissom, is do you?"
Gil was at a loss for words. He didn't know how to express his feelings for Sara verbally. T o say 'yes' to her question seemed insufficient, but to not respond would obviously be taken as a sign of indifference. If there was one thing he didn't feel for Sara, it was indifference.
"I, um, well, Sara . . ." Grissom felt as though he couldn't contain or express the emotions welling inside him. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, and he felt the gentle stroke of the blade caressing his chin as he spoke. He lifted his hand to grasp Sara's wrist, and stopped her ministrations on his silver beard.
"You define me. I can't live without you." The words rushed out of Grissom's mouth as soon as they had made their way to his brain.
Sara stopped. She looked at him, eyes glazed over, revealing her feelings of lust and love in one brief glance.
"I love you, Gil, and I want you. Nothing will ever change that. I want to be sure that you understand what I feel and where I am coming from in this relationship . . ."
"Sara . . ." Grissom inhaled deeply. He knew that he had ignored her feelings as superficial for too long. But now, looking into her fire brown eyes, he felt as though he could lose himself in her chocolate pools. He loved her.
"I understand."
"Good," she said. "Turn your cheek, baby. I need to do the other side."