Title:'Something in the Way'

Spoilers:'Nesting Dolls'

Summary: After sharing her demons from her childhood, Sara makes a decision that will affect both her and Grissom. Angst.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or anything related. Please, don't sue. I'm just a poor student who can barely pay her own debts.

A/N: This is my first story. Also, English is not my language but I have amazing betas who have helped me A LOT. Thanks, thanks, thanks.smacky30 you rock!, your suggestions really made a difference. I owe you. If there's any error in the story, it's my own fault, don't blame my wonderful betas.

Since I'm learning how to do this, reviews are greatly appreciated. Keep'em honest, I need to know if I'm doing this right, and how can I improve. Thanks!


CHAPTER 1 - A Decision

Everything was happening in slow motion... Sara could barely form a rational thought. One minute she was feeling a harsh pain in her chest and tears were flowing, almost choking her; the next she was doing the last thing she would expect, given the circumstances. She was kissing Gil Grissom. Or to be precise, she was responding to his kiss.

Sara was not a daydreamer. After discovering that the man she loved would never pursue her or act upon feelings that they both knew existed, she slowly began to come to terms with the reality. It took more time to heal than she had expected and some huge mistakes were made in the process. But in the end, Sara had accepted his decision and moved on with her life. After all, what else could she possibly do? Life was really a bitch, sure, but she was an adult and she had a job to do and a sanity to keep in check.

After a while she almost felt alive again, the pain was beginning to fade away. Mentoring Greg kept her so occupied that the moments of self-deprecation she had grown used to were postponed and finally forgotten. Of course, seeing Grissom every day slowed the healing process and made it full of ups and downs, but most of the time when Sara arrived home she didn't feel the aching void, the terrible loneliness that had threatened to engulf her for months and months before the moment she heard the confession. It wasn't really the life she had expected when she came to Vegas but it was better than the emptiness she had lived with for almost two years.

How had they moved from awkwardly seating facing each other, hands touching in a firm but loose grip, to this heated kiss was beyond Sara's reasoning. She was still replaying in her mind the horrors she had seen the night his father was killed, reality and memories overlapping, when she felt a warm body pressing against her and strong arms embraced her. She was Sara Sidle, a scared little girl again, but she wasn't alone anymore, he was protecting her. Grissom would make all the nightmares go away. Sara closed her eyes. This was the first time in her life that somebody was comforting her after learning how fucked up she was. It felt good but also surreal in an intoxicating way. In that moment, rationalization seemed overrated.

Without a word from either of them, the embrace turned into something more physical. Grissom's hands began to gently caress Sara's hair, before moving to her neck and shoulders, never stopping the contact. If comforting words were spoken, Sara didn't hear them. The only thing she was aware of was his warm hands against her shivering body. She was still in shock, both from the emotional rollercoaster of the last several hours and from being held so close to him, a feeling she thought forever lost and forbidden. Her mind began to wander and everything in the outside world disappeared in this blissful moment.

It took her a few moments to register what was happening in the real world. Suddenly, she was Sara Sidle the adult, the CSI. Grissom wasn't the savior of her dreams but her boss. They were kissing. And it wasn't a tentative kiss. In a matter of seconds their tongues were sliding against one another and their bodies were pressed tightly together. Grissom was literally devouring her. Sara had never pictured him as a passionate man, but his actions were speaking loud and clear and she couldn't resist his touch.

As the kiss deepened, it seemed that Grissom was having trouble keeping his hands off Sara's skin. His initial feather-like touch was rapidly becoming an arousing and erotic exploration of her lower back under her shirt. Her skin was on fire and her head was beginning to spin. Sara was fighting to regain control of the situation and her mind; trying to understand what were they doing and why. She knew she had to think quickly. Sara couldn't put her finger on it, but her instincts were kicking in and telling her that something was off. It felt damn good to be kissing Grissom, finally seeing –and feeling- her fantasies come true. Sara was anxious to have his hands all over her body and his lips whispering her name no matter how unreal and dreamlike the moment seemed.

But this was not a dream.

Suddenly, everything became clear. The lost piece fell into place and Sara saw what her subconscious was trying to show her. A broken man behind the glass, a sullen, solitary, taciturn man who had chosen to be alone, to lick his wounds in the darkness of his home and pretend that he was made of steel. His sad eyes were so full of regrets and longing. His eyes always betrayed him and made true the old cliché about them being the windows to the soul. That was the real Grissom, Mr. Isolation, not the passionate man kissing her, wanting her, feeling her.

Sara froze. The real Grissom was not a dream. The somber man spilling his guts to a killer was not a dream, she had seen it. She had felt and shared his pain. She had mourned the loss for both of them. She had cried a thousand tears and then she had moved on.

What were they doing? Sara let out an anguished cry and violently disentangled from his arms, from his kiss, from the contact that was making her feel more alive than ever in her life.

"What's wrong Sara?" he had noticed the change in her body moments before her outburst and had stopped his actions, immediately thinking that he was going too fast. He had not intentionally chosen that moment to let his guard down but once he made up his mind, he couldn't stop giving Sara what he thought she needed.

"This... this is wrong, I'm sorry... we can't do this." Sara said.

Sara's breathing was beginning to increase and Grissom feared she would hyperventilate. Her eyes were dull, her entire body was trembling and she had all the symptoms of somebody going into shock.

"Did I hurt you? Sara, please, what did I do wrong?" His anxiety was growing at an alarming speed.

Sara was unresponsive to his questions. She just stared at the floor and continued trembling. A sob escaped her lips. Sara turned her head to face Grissom. Her eyes were full of tears but none of them seemed willing to leave their place.

"I can't. I don't want this. I'm sorry, you have to leave." Her voice was emotionless, monotone, and scary.

"Sara, I don't think you should be alone right now. Please tell me what I can do to make you feel comfortable. I'm sorry. I assumed you wanted..." Sara interrupted him before he got the chance to explain the situation.

"Please, I need...I need to be alone, and I want you to leave." She turned her back on Grissom.

"But..." Grissom couldn't believe that Sara was acting like nothing had happened.

"Please" She didn't sound upset or angry; she just seemed weary, exhausted.

Grissom reluctantly moved to the door. He knew he should stay and fight no matter how hard she tried to make him go. It was obvious that their kiss had been a mistake, but they could discuss it like friends, like they always did. In her state of mind, Sara needed an emotional support, but another look at her face told him she didn't want his company. He wasn't welcome anymore.

Grissom left, but in his heart he knew he would regret it later.