Title: Unexpected
Author: Ann
Summary: Grissom gets some unexpected news...
XX Thanks to Mossley and Danie for the betas. This is a tad more angsty than I have been doing. But I always end on a happy note. Reviews are awesome and greatly appreciated(even the not-so-savory ones). Thanks to all of those who have reviewed before. CSI is not mine. Less than three months til my birthday, though! Hint hint.
"You know what that means, don't you?" Sara asked, brusquely, yet nervously, as she strode into Grissom's office, shutting the door behind her.
Grissom's brow furrowed as he took the stick from Sara's outstretched hands. The two tiny pink lines immediately caused his eyes to widen and his heart to lurch. Meeting her face, a mask of indifference, he calmed himself, dropping the small stick to his desk. "We really should glove up if we're going to handle evidence, Sara."
She laughed sadly, a laugh that filled his veins with an icy chill that paralyzed him where he sat. "It's not evidence, Grissom," she paused just long enough to pick up the test and toss it in the small trashcan alongside his desk. "Well, in a way, I suppose it is. Too bad we didn't think about latex then," she mused without rancor.
"Sara, I...how?" he choked out, realizing as he said it how stupid the question was. He damn well knew how. Every night for the past two months, his mind relived that very how.
"How? I thought I was supposed to be the one inebriated that evening," she spat, angry at his insensitivity. When she saw his shock instantly morph into pain, Sara realized that her hardhearted statement rivaled his own. Despite the fact that she had nearly been charged with a DUI earlier, the hours of talking and sipping coffee on her sofa had left her unclouded and sober. And, to this very minute, every intricate detail of their lovemaking was crystal clear in her mind. His tongue against her flesh, fingers digging into her hips, body moving within her...no detail was left to her imagination. Implying that he may have taken advantage of her was uncalled for. "I'm sorry."
"No," he raised a hand, stopping more of her apology. He rose from his seat, turning to hide the mortification of his heart from her. "You're right. I never should have..." Taken you home? Made love to you? Loved you? He wasn't sure how far back his apologies should run. But his words trailed off when he realized that, deep down, he didn't regret any of it.
"Grissom." She continued only when he turned to her, hurt still coloring his features. Seeing this level of emotion still surprised her; it was so different than the stoic man who only greeted her for assignments every shift. "Believe it or not, I didn't come here to argue."
He nodded his head as if he truly believed her.
Which only made her feel guilty...
"I talked to Cavallo. He approved a leave." She caught his wince, and shuddered sadly. "I didn't inform him...who." Grissom's eyes followed her hand as it fanned out upon her still-flat abdomen. "You don't have to worry. I won't tell."
"I'm not worried," he injected quickly. "I don't care who knows."
Though she willed herself not to, Sara couldn't help but return the hesitant smile that he gave her. Beneath his upturned lips he still looked tired and troubled, and she couldn't help but wonder how much of that stemmed from the news that she had just thrown at him.
Her intent hadn't been to hurt him with the information, but after spending the last several hours sprawled out on the cold tile of her bathroom floor, life-changing results in hand, she realized that she didn't get into this predicament alone.
It was her fault, she supposed, that they hadn't spoken of this very possibility afterwards. Waking up to the weight of his body pressed into her, the delicious pain of beard burn along her cheeks and neck, and the possessiveness of his arm draped across her midsection...it all seemed too good to be true. All her mind could conjure up were images of him opening his lids to reveal regret-filled eyes. Knowing her heart could never take that, she kept her pride intact by leaving before he ever had the chance. It wasn't until she had quietly dressed and stepped outside, that she remembered that he had driven her home, and she had no means by which to escape.
So, she ran.
Literally.
Her legs took off without her permission, carrying her faster and further than she had ever went before. She finally collapsed upon a bench in an unfamiliar park, wiping the moisture from her face, disconcerted to find more tears than sweat. Both relief and disappointment flooded her when she finally returned to her apartment to find his car gone from outside and every trace of his presence missing from inside.
"Sara?"
His concerned voice jolted her from her reverie, and she stepped back as he reached for her arm. "I've...got to go." She hadn't let him see her cry the first time, and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now.
"Wait," he pleaded just as she reached the door. "What...what are you going to do? About..." he stammered, timidly choking on the words.
"The baby?" She said it aloud, as much for her benefit than his. The whole thing was still such a shock to her system, but one that she found herself growing accustomed to quickly. She had never seriously pictured herself with child, but after only one day, she could never imagine going back. Sara desperately wanted to know what was going through his head right now. He looked so confused, but not angry, which surprised her. She had no clue what to say to him right now. "I'm not ready to talk about this yet. And neither are you. I just...wanted you to know."
After seeing his feet shift restlessly, she thought Grissom may run to her and grab her like the romantic heroes did in the movies. The idea of actually wanting that frightened her. But he let her back away, staying silent until the door was nearly closed. Before it latched, she heard a sincere 'thank you'.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Grissom spent the next week pissed at himself and worried about Sara. He couldn't believe that he let her leave without saying or doing anything that he wanted to. Finding out he was going to be a father had to be the most terrifying experience of his life, but he couldn't wait.
And he needed to tell her that.
Repeated of phone calls went unanswered, increasing his anxiety tenfold. Even if she had regrets about their time together, he knew that she wouldn't regret the baby...a baby they made together. This thought gave him the hope of seeing her again.
After leaving yet another message, he slumped down upon his couch, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight off the pending migraine. His deep groan nearly veiled the light knock on the front door. Grissom rose and padded cautiously towards the unexpected sound. Upon turning the knob and peering out the widening gap, he felt his heart skip a beat. There Sara stood on his door step, soft and radiant and beautiful. "I, um, got your message. Messages." She smiled. Not a happy smile, but one filled with enough warmth to alleviate the majority of his fears.
"Come in?" He ushered her into his home, tugging at her jacket in a hint for her to remove it. He hoped that would give him a spare moment or two if he loused things up; maybe it was a favorite, and she'd have to at least grab for it if she walked out of his life again.
"Why did you leave that morning?"
She recoiled at the question, but answered honestly. "Because I knew you would have if I didn't. What we did wasn't planned or calculated. It was spontaneous. And wonderful," she whispered. "I knew you would go. I guess I wanted to beat you to the punch."
"I wouldn't have."
"Grissom--."
"I didn't. I heard the door shut when you left. I woke up happy for the first time in a long time, Sara. I thought maybe you had an errand or two to run, so I waited. And waited," he said sadly. "For three hours I waited."
"I didn't know," she whispered, shocked at his admission.
"I'm still waiting," he promised, softly.
This time she was the tongue-tied one, opening and closing her mouth, trying to find the perfect words to match what he had just implied. Her worst nightmare would be to assume that he meant something totally different than what he had just interpreted. Sara watched a bright flush creep up his neck, and an embarrassed grin widen his lips. "I wanted to show you something," he admitted eagerly, moving to grip her hand, but pulling back at the last moment.
She stepped forward and eased her fingers into his, giving him the permission he sought. He led her down a dark hallway lined with a series of doors and stopped at the second one on the left, only letting go of her hand to push it open and step inside.
"Now, it's not finished yet," he started quickly. "I still have to paint the trim, put the cradle together, and touch everything up a bit."
She gasped as she stood stock still where he had left her, trying to take in the expanse of the room all at once. The beautiful yellow walls were adorned with pictures of jungle animals, and their stuffed counterparts resided in an oak rocker in the corner. A playpen, changing table, and car seat filled the other corner with their presence. Other small gifts were scattered about the floor, having not yet found their permanent home. Sara met his eyes and couldn't look away. He looked so proud, excited...happy.
That made her happy.
"I love it," she gushed from the doorway, quickly swiping away the tears as they fell.
"I love you."
Feeling her heart swell, she took one last look behind her, into the darkness and the life that was no more. This room symbolized them now...beautiful and, with a little work, perfect. She jumped into the arms of the man who she had been waiting for forever, ready to start her life anew.
The door closed with a soft click.