The Truth About Denial
A/N: So this is just a little one shot that I started working on ages ago with nothing but the title and no real idea of where I wanted it to go. Fortunately I was rereading it recently and it took on a life of its own. So I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please Read & Review.
'What am I even doing here anymore??' Sara asked herself in anger as she threw down the last of her second…or was it third….beer. The anger over the key CSI promotion was still ringing in her head. 'What is it about Gil Grissom that makes him think he has the right to walk on top of me? Why did I ever answer that stupid call of his all those years ago?' With all these unanswerable questions buzzing through her consciousness, Sara stood, paid her bill, and left. Climbing in her car she headed home.
One victim and one suspect, but two sets of male DNA. The startling conclusion to their latest case was still making Grissom's head reel. Suddenly, unbidden, an image from a few days before sprang into his head…
There was Sara standing against a bloody sheet, asking him to pin her down. He knew she was trying to prove a point on her case, but couldn't a man fantasize?? He could remember exactly how she smelled: an herbal, soapy, clean scent that was pure Sara. He'd wanted to act on his attraction to her right there. To kiss her senseless, and to make her head reel like she made his. But then she'd thanked him for his help and pushed past him, saying something about the promotion and how she hoped that whatever had or hadn't happened between them wouldn't factor into his final decision.
He remembered the Debbie Marlin case a couple of months previously. It had really scared him how much she looked like Sara. He had realized then that he'd made a huge mistake when it came to Sara. He should never have shoved her away. But why was it that changing was just so hard.
Grissom was jolted from his reverie by the persistent ringing of his office phone. "Gil Grissom, Las Vegas Crime Lab." He said automatically as he lifted the receiver. As he listened his jaw dropped. "You've got to be wrong." He kept saying over and over. Finally, he sighed, "I understand." He muttered. "I'll be right down." With that he got up locked his office and left.
Sara's head wasn't spinning, it wasn't fogged, it was just…blank. Horribly, sickeningly blank. It was as empty as a dark void in an unlit room. Somewhere deep down she was furious with herself for getting into this. Part of her wanted to hate Grissom for it, for pushing her this far down, but the years had shown her that she couldn't hate him. She knew that she didn't have to have caved to his push. But she did, and it sickened her. The only light she could see was the blazing inferno of self loathing. As much as she wanted to blame Grissom, it wasn't his fault and she knew it.
Grissom stood in the door that the officer had pointed him to and stared at Sara's slumped shoulders. He knew that as her boss he should have been angry with her. He knew that he should march up and admonished her for breaking the law, but in the moment he just felt relieved to see her alive.
Sara felt another presence enter the room but she didn't feel the usual twinge she got when Grissom was near. 'He wouldn't be here anyway, Sidle.' She admonished herself. 'Plus you know he's the last person you'd want to see you like this.' It was the truth. She figured it was probably just the officer that was going to take her home or book her or something, so she turned and looked up….straight into the deep arrestingly blue eyes of her supervisor. Her stomach lurched and she looked away hurriedly.
Grissom watched Sara's face carefully when she saw him. There was no other word for it he finally decided, she looked panicked. In that moment he truly realized how awry their relationship had gone. It was hard for him to believe that this was the same Sara that had walked into that seminar all those years ago. When had the light in her eyes disappeared? When had she gotten so frail? Without thinking he walked across the room and took the chair next to her.
Sara felt rather than saw him sit down. She decisively moved her eyes so that they were anywhere but on him. She leaned her elbows on her knees and stared blankly at the far wall. She was still fighting the sickening blankness in her brain and wasn't having much luck. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want it to be Grissom sitting next to her. Even Hodges would have been preferable. She didn't want to look at him and see the anger, or worse the pity, that she knew would be in his eyes.
Grissom studied her profile for a moment and pondered when it was exactly that he'd fallen so very much in love with this woman. Without thinking he reached out slowly and wrapped her hand in his.
Sara turned her startled gaze onto their joined hands. She'd wanted this for so long, but why did it have to come about like this? This wasn't the way she'd wanted anything to go. She didn't want Grissom to like her because he felt sorry for her. She was just about to pull away, jump up, and storm off in irritation when he spoke.
"Come on. I'll take you home." Grissom said gently. Sara didn't respond. He continued to hold her limp hand in his. "Come on." He urged.
"No." Sara said. "Thanks Grissom, but it's late and you're probably tired after your shift. I can get an on duty officer to take me home."
Grissom wouldn't let himself be foiled by her protests. "Do you want to have to explain to your neighbors why a cop car drove you home?"
"I work for the police. That's all I'd have to tell them." Despite herself Sara knew he was winning and cursed him for it.
"You drove yourself in though." Grissom pointed out gently. As he spoke he stood and tugged her hand.
A wave of sudden exhaustion washed over Sara and she gave up the fight. She allowed him to pull her to her feet and was surprised by how gentle he was about it. She stopped thinking entirely and did the one thing she'd been avoiding. The look in his eyes hit her like an arrow straight to the heart. He was looking at her with such a tender, caring look that it made her want to cry. He wasn't mad, and he didn't pity her. Instead he appeared to be genuinely worried. But that only made her feel worse. She wanted to hate him and to blame him all over again. But she couldn't and she knew that. "I guess you're right." She whispered finally.
Grissom just nodded in acceptance. He was having trouble getting enough air with her standing this close to him. Their hands were still joined and they were standing literally inches apart. He wanted to hold her but he knew that more likely than not that would only spark her temper. "Ready?"
Sara nodded without looking up at him again.
The drive was taken mostly in silence. Grissom let Sara maintain the silence as long as she wanted since he knew they'd have to talk eventually. Sara just stared out the window in absolute silence. In the quiet she braced herself for the lecture she knew was still imminent. She was going to force Grissom to start the conversation but when she saw where they were she couldn't help but blurt out some sort of response.
"I thought you were taking me home."
"I was." Grissom said as he parked the SUV in his driveway. "But then I figured you shouldn't be alone right now. Plus I didn't know if you had coffee at your place and I knew for a fact that my place was well stocked. It was just the logical choice."
Sara just stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. She wanted to be angry, wanted to rant and rave and insist that he take her to her place. But another part of her realized that he was really honestly trying to do what was best for her and it felt good to be taken care of.
Grissom saw a brief flicker of carefully restrained anger in Sara's eyes and felt his stomach drop. "I can take you to your house if you want…" He said quietly.
Sara immediately felt guilty. 'You hate it when he shoots you down Sara, why are you doing it to him?' she admonished herself. Before her brain could answer itself she smiled at him. "No, this is fine. I was just surprised that's all." She couldn't help but notice his relieved look. 'He really is trying.'
Sara had been in Grissom's townhouse once before, during the Strip Strangler case, but she could barely recall that in her present state of mind. It did hit her that it was incredibly bare. Though she could walk perfectly fine, Grissom still escorted her over to his couch. When he'd seen to it that she was comfortable he retreated to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Sara just sat there staring at the wall. 'Why is he doing this? When is the lecture coming?' she thought over and over again. After a few minutes of clinking around, Grissom emerged with two steaming mugs of fresh coffee. He handed one to Sara and sat down next to her. Quietly he sipped his coffee and stared off into space as though she wasn't there.
Sara turned her mug around once in her hand and then set it down with a pronounced thump. Some of the coffee sloshed out over the lip of the mug and seared her hand, but she didn't really notice. Turning so that she was sitting nearly facing him on the edge of the couch she fixed him with an accusing glare. "What the hell is going on here, Grissom?" she demanded.
"I'm having a hot cup of coffee with a friend in need of support." He said plainly, turning a gaze devoid of any emotion to face her.
Sara made scoffing noise in the back of her throat and a smile born of exasperated fury tore at her lips. "We haven't been friends in a very long time." She hissed.
Grissom felt as though someone had stabbed a knife into his gut and was turning it in slow motion. Acute emotional pain seized him at her words. Hadn't they been friends once? All he was doing was trying to be helpful and preserve the memory of the friends they'd once been. "But we were once Sara."
"That was a long time ago, Grissom. People change. We wanted different things from that friendship." Sara lectured.
"No, Sara. We didn't want different things. You just knew what you wanted better than I did and could express it. You took your feelings and let them lift you up. I got scared of mine and hid. We wanted the same thing, we're just different people." He placed his hand on her shoulder.
Sara tried to pull away defiantly but the sudden movement made the whole room spin as her intoxicated brain fought to focus things. She swayed and tried to stop the vertigo that was making her feel sick to her stomach. Instantly she felt Grissom's arms around her, stabilizing her until her vision cleared.
"Why did you do this Sara?" he said in an almost pained voice. Worry lines creased his forehead. "What could this possibly prove?"
"I was depressed Grissom." Sara snapped defensively. "I tried drowning it out. It was a onetime thing."
"Don't lie to me Sara!" Grissom actually came close to shouting as anguished worry overrode his normal calmness. "Brass has seen the signs. He's expressed to me frequently that he thinks you have a drinking problem."
"I don't have a drinking problem!" Sara snarled, pushing his arms away from her and standing up, despite the fact that she swayed unsteadily.
Grissom stood up and stepped towards her again. She was too enraged to even move as he once again took her into his arms. He reached out to tilt her head up to face him and kissed her, pouring all the love he felt for her into the kiss. When at last he pulled away to look at her tears where streaming down her cheeks.
"Why are you doing this Grissom?" She choked out around the tears.
"Because I love you and I can finally admit that to myself and to you."
"Why now after all this time?"
"Because I finally figured out the truth about denial: it doesn't work." He whispered, holding her to him.
Relieved, exhausted, yet happy at the same time, Sara lay her head on his shoulder and sobbed. "I…love…you…too…Gil." She managed between the sobs that wracked her body. "I'm so sorry I did this to you and to me. I'll get help if you think I need it. Can you forgive me?"
"There is nothing to forgive, Sara."