AWKWARD

CHAPTER ONE

It was barely a knock. Three soft raps on the door jamb to his office. Before Grissom raised his head from the files, he knew it was Sara. Catherine would have breezed right in, talking, or barking, depending on her mood, before she even crossed the threshold. Nick or Warrick usually cleared their throats from the hall to get his attention, or said his name. And Greg and Brass usually entered without preamble but with a wisecrack. So it could only be Sara.

Grissom looked up and let his eyes soften as they met hers. No matter how strained things were between them–and that was often–he could always appreciate her casual beauty, especially when she was framed like this in his doorway. There was something about how the light from the hallway lit the gold in her hair...silhouetted those long legs...but he hadn't acknowledged her yet, and Sara was looking uncomfortable.

"Can I, uh, talk to you a second?"

"Sara. Of course. Please, come in."

Finally she did, as always needing his permission first. Her next act surprised him. Sara turned and closed the door and then moved to stand directly in front of him. His team members rarely closed the door, unless instructed to do so. She didn't seem to know what to do with her hands, Grissom realized. Sara Sidle, who could look like she was posing for a portrait as she delicately ate a french fry, was looking decidedly awkward. She crossed and uncrossed her arms and shifted from foot to foot.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing, and she did. "What can I do for you?"

"I, uh." Sara seemed to rethink a prepared speech. Grissom waited. Maybe she would understand how difficult it was for him to speak to her, unless it was work related, and that sometimes, sometimes he needed her to wait, like this. So he did. Then he tried to make it easier for her to start.

"How's your case coming?"

"Closed it. Um. This isn't about work. Well, it is, sort of." Sara blew out a frustrated breath. Why is this awkward? Just tell him, Sidle. "I need a leave of..." she saw his worried look-Not again! Don't leave. What did I do this time?-flashed across his face, as legible as a newspaper article to someone who knew Gil Grissom as she did. And she did know him. "A medical leave of absence," she quickly clarified.

"Oh." Relief was quickly followed by concern. "Are you...are you sick?"

"Not exactly. I need surgery."

Surgery?

"Oh! That's...is it serious? What's it for, what's wrong? I mean..." Grissom was instantly on his feet, and rounding his desk, before his head caught up with his feet. He perched on the desk and clasped his hands.

Sara grimaced.

"I apologize." Grissom backtracked. "Your medical issues...are private. I just..." I just what? I just want you to be okay.

"It's fine. As my supervisor, you should know, so you can prepare for someone to cover my shifts." This part sounded rehearsed. Grissom nodded. Sara was always professional, and thinking about the consequences of her absence was part of that.

He looked expectant.

Sara ducked her head. Ick. Do I need to spell this out? "I need a hysterectomy," she told her knees. Somehow it was–slightly–easier to not look at him at that admission.

"I'm sorry," Grissom blurted.

Sorry? "For what?"

"I'm sorry...I'm just sorry that you have to go through this."

That was nice. Sara gave him a shy smile at that, and Grissom congratulated himself. For once he'd said the right thing.

"It will be better afterward."

Grissom tilted his head, trying to understand.

"You're a guy, and may not want to know about female problems, but you're also a scientist." She smiled a little wider at his encouraging nod. "I have endometriosis."

"Oh. I understand the surgery then...I've heard that's very painful?"

"It is. Like continuous horrible cramps. But I guess you wouldn't know about that either...yeah, it hurts like hell. All the time."

Grissom looked at her closely. How could he not have noticed she was in pain? There were little lines around her eyes, and a new one that creased her forehead. She looked drawn. And pale. I'm a dope. An oblivious dope.

"Of course. I mean, take as much time as you need." Grissom reached around to get his calendar. "When do you go under the knife?"

"Tomorrow. 8 AM."

"Tomorrow? That's, uh, soon."

"Yeah," Sara breathed. "I just came from the doctor. He said it was urgent."

"Oh," Grissom said again. He seemed to have trouble keeping up. "Do you need anything?"

She flashed a quick smile. "Just to sign the paperwork, I guess."

Grissom nodded, then started rooting around for the right form. Sara smirked at him. Everyone, especially Catherine, knew the filing system better than he did. She found the form and handed it to him. Grissom returned to his seat and started filling it out. Sara watched him.

"How long? Will you be away?" he asked, scribbling information. I'll miss you.

"I'll be home from the hospital tomorrow afternoon. Then, two weeks to recuperate. But I'll probably be back to work before that. As soon as I get bored."

"You'll stay home as long as you should. Doctor's orders," he told her, teasing a little.

"The doctor won't know."

"I'm a doctor too."

"A bug doctor! I'm not a bug." She teased back. They smirked at each other.

He pushed the paper across the desk to her, and she scrawled her spidery signature and dated it. Grissom dropped it in his Out box and stood as she did.

"Sara?" She glanced back at him. "Do you need...anything else?"

"No. Thanks."

"A ride to the hospital?"

"I was going to take a taxi."

Grissom frowned. "I'll pick you up at 7," he said firmly.

"Grissom..."

"No arguments. Please."

"Well, okay."

"See you then."

"Bye, Sara."

"Bye, Grissom. See you at 7." Another pretty smile, and then she was out the door. Grissom sat, bemused, and looked at the space where she had been moments before.

TBC