Starting Out

Disclaimer: Not now or ever will I have the money to own the show or characters identified. CSI belongs to CBS...

Chapter 1

Sara groaned peacefully rousing from her sleep. Her eyes were yet to open, but she could feel the sun going down. It was instinctual after all the years on night shift that she could feel her body coming alive as the darkness took over the town. Or was it the glitzy neon shine of the Las Vegas lights? Sara smiled preferring to believe it was the first.

That moment in between sleep and waking when everything is blurry. When reality meets fiction, and the line between them disappears. That one instant where there is no right or wrong, and if there is, there is no way to tell the difference.

After another groan, the ambiguity struck Sara like a punch in the gut. She tightly squinted her eyes together. Memories were flooding back into her sleep-clouded brain. Had everything been a dream? She willed herself to open her eyes, but fear held her back. Fear. Fear of knowing she was alone.

"Mmm..."

The stifled groan beside her sent shivers down Sara's spine. Her eyes flew open immediately wide in bewilderment. She literally flipped over in one tight fluid motion from lying on one side to the other. It was so instantaneous that the bed barely moved. Sara came face to face with a waking Grissom.

"You're–you're…real," was all Sara could mutter as she reached for his bearded cheek. The confusion and disbelief was evident in her eyes as she searched his face.

One eye opening at the most unusual greeting, Grissom looked skeptically at her. "Good morning to you, too." With a wry grin he added, "From cranky to perplexed after a full night's sleep. I do wonder what would happen on only a few short hours."

Sara's mouth hung open as the reality of him – Grissom – being in her bed struck her. His blue eyes twinkled even in the dim light of the room. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Sara found her voice again.

Sara spewed the words faster than she could draw a breath, "Gris, I thought it was all a dream. But, you're here... Really here. And, I'm not alone. And–"

"Shhh. You talk too much. Come here," Grissom said with an outstretched arm.

Sara looked slightly taken aback. She eyed him skeptically this time, but her brain gave in to her heart since she wanted his touch more than anything. Sara slid over in the bed and was grateful for the sanctity of his arms. Relishing the closeness, Sara nuzzled nearer and slid her head up under his chin.

"I talk too much?" Sara asked finally.

"I'm not the only one that thinks it. You, yourself, have said it before."

Sara could feel him smiling. The happy feeling was contagious. She felt her heart heaving a heavy sigh and her pulse racing being with Grissom. Not just being with him, but being close to him. Close to him in her bed.

"We need to eat something and head to the lab, Sara," Grissom stated reluctantly. Sill holding onto her, Grissom felt Sara snuggle closer.

"For the first time ever in my career I've decided I want to call in sick," Sara mumbled into his chest.

Mock horror crept across Grissom's face. "I can't believe you said that." The look was quickly replaced with a genuinely regretful one. "That is by far the most scandalous piece of information I could have against you, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Sara sat up in bed and stared at him. She poked him once in the chest and put on a smile that could melt the polar icecaps. "Overtime just ranked itself higher than you on my list of favorite pass times."

Grissom just lay there and smiled back sweetly as she got out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom for a shower. As he listened to the water running, his mind wandered over memories of the years they had spent together. He marveled at how easy it was for her to accept him without question.

Six years flashed before his eyes. All the times she had been behind him, beside him, and yes, even in front of him a few times. She was the one constant that had grounded him, helped him, and lent him courage and hope. She had never known the impact she had had on his life. He had never been able to tell her, or even admit to himself how much he cared for that woman in the other room.

He did not deserve her. He knew it, and he felt it with ever fiber of his being. Through the good and the bad – everything he had done to her over the years – Sara had been there waiting for him. Patient and beautiful Sara had waited for him. Waited for him to decide the time was right and tell her.

The part that hurt the most was that he had not told her, and the words would be hard – if he could find them. He knew she needed them, even if she wound not admit it. He needed them just as much.

Interrupting his thoughts, Sara walked from the bathroom. She was wrapped in only a towel, and in that moment, Grissom could feel nothing more than comfort at her casual nature. Acceptance. Redemption.

"Sara..." Grissom was startled by even his own voice. He had no idea where it came from, and wished he could tuck it back away. His normally analytical mind was not working properly.

Sara stopped searching her closet briefly to turn around expectantly at him. In that moment looking at Grissom, Sara was unsure if she had actually heard him say her name. The look on his face was almost pained.

"Gris?" Sara asked reluctantly.

He only blinked at her. His mind was reeling of things he wanted and needed to say. He wanted to bear his soul to her. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. He wanted to tell her how much he needed her. He wanted to tell her how much he needed her to need him as well.

All words were lost. Sara could see he was in pain. It was like she saw in his eyes all he needed to say. Her voice was soft, "The towels are under the sink." Sara went back to looking through her closet. "If we leave in an hour, we can stop and get some food before heading in to the lab. We can get some paperwork done before everyone else gets in, and I need to restock my kit, too."

Damn her. Grissom knew for sure now that he did not deserve her. She knew him so well that she gave him the out he was looking for. She knew he did not have the will or the way to say what needed to be said.

He pried himself from the bed and walked over to her quickly. Grissom stood behind her for a few seconds before touching her shoulders. That one single touch sent shivers through his body. It was not only the sensual nature of it, but the calming condition of it as well. He pulled strength from Sara – the strength that he needed to move on. Gently, Grissom slid his hands down her arms and kissed her shoulder before retreating to the bathroom for a shower.

Showered and dressed, Grissom strolled from the bedroom. Sara was pouring coffee into two cups when she looked up to catch his eye. A large smile spread across her face. His heart rocketed at the sight of her beautiful smile. The smile that made him get through each day. The smile that gave him hope when the worst case threatened to break him.

"Coffee?" she asked, thrusting a cup in his direction.

"Thanks," Grissom replied somberly, taking the cup from her hands. The shower had only given him more time to think about all the things he wanted to say. Staring blankly at the cup in his hand, he chewed those words over in his mind.

"You know, I do talk a lot. Too much sometimes, in fact. I think it's that I don't know what to say, and saying anything is better than nothing at all. Filling the emptiness with a useless creation of drivel just to make myself feel better at being part of something." She downed the last sip of her coffee and poured another cup.

This time it was Sara staring at her cup and wearing a nervous smile. "I guess it's just one of those nervous habits like people biting their nails. Looking for the right words and not finding them leaves a feeling of helplessness and utter lack of control."

They looked up over their cups, and their eyes met. Grissom blinked slowly at her. He knew she was making excuses for him not being able to talk to her. She did not want to push him, and even if she did, she would not have the right way to ask to make him understand. She had her words, and he had his silence, but neither had a way of explaining what they were thinking.

"Sara, you don't have trouble speaking your mind."

"You want more coffee before we go?" Sara finished hers and put the empty cup in the sink. Thankful for the reason to look away from him, and his eyes seemed to bore into her soul, Sara fidgeted in the sink for a moment.

"No. I'm fine," he replied absentmindedly as he finished what he had.

Sara took the cup from him and put it with hers in the sink. "Well, let's not be late to work. We'd never live that down." She made every effort to sound casual and even threw a small fake smile on her lips.

"Let's go in my car. No reason for us to both drive."

Sara was clearly startled at the comment. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but right now, I don't want to be away from you, if even just for a small drive to the restaurant and then to work."

Her smile was genuine that time and very thankful for the sincerity in his voice.