Beautiful like a Thunderstorm
Author: WaywardKitty
Rating: Teen
Classification: Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me.
Spoilers: Post The Good, the Bad and the Dominatrix
Summary: The worst part about having a traumatic childhood is that it forever colors your reactions. How does Sara handle the event in The Good, the Bad and the Dominatrix? How does Grissom handle Sara. Oneshot.GSR.
AN: I'm having a really bad week. All my buttons have been pushed. So I'm going to go project all over Sara. Unbeta'ed.
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Three raps on the door.
Five raps on the door.
The snick of the deadbolt unlocking and the crunch of the door hitting the limit of the chain-lock.
The click of the door closing.
Four minutes of continuous pounding.
By the time a teary-eyed Sara finally opened her apartment door to Grissom, he eyes were wild with fear.
"God, Sara, you had me so worried," he said, crushing her to his chest. Almost immediately, he released her go only to grasp her upper arms and stare deeply into her reddened eyes. "When you weren't at my place…"
As he pressed her to his chest once again, she began to sob in earnest.
"Heather's just a friend, I swear to you, Sara," he rasped, stroking her hair. "I'm just trying to help her see her granddaughter."
Sara wriggled out of his embrace and went to stand by the window. Looking out on another scorching spring Las Vegas day, the effort of holding her arms across her stomach contorted her shoulders and back as she struggled to hold herself together.
Soundlessly, Grissom moved to stand a few inches behind her. Pain was radiating off her like she was on fire.
"You don't trust me," he said, hurt weighing on every syllable.
"It's so hard for me to trust, Griss."
"I know." Tentatively, he put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn't resist his touch.
"You should go. I know you don't like to see me like this."
"Honey, it's not that." He frowned as he contemplated how to tell her that although he wished she never had to feel pain, he was here to offer whatever comfort he could. "I want to be here for you…"
"You have a funny way of showing it." She shrugged off his hand and circled the room, finally depositing herself on her favorite chair in a fetal position, knees tucked tight against her chest. Scrubbing her face with one hand, she mumbled, "You should just go."
But he couldn't stay away from her, even the distance of half the room was too much. He went to perch on the edge of the couch. "I'm sorry I… upset you."
Sara dropped her head to her knees.
"Sara, please talk to me."
He waited for her to cry herself out a bit.
"Tell me what to do to make things right," he said finally.
Sara turned her face slightly toward him without lifting her head. Grissom was frightened by how vacant her eyes looked. "Did you sleep with her?"
"Recently? No. Ever? Once. Several years ago." His reply was somber. He wasn't good at opening up, but he could see that she needed the complete truth. "I would never cheat on you. I was never a client of hers. I never paid her. And there wasn't anything… unusual… about our… encounter."
"You're attracted to her."
"She's an attractive woman."
"You care about her."
Grissom shifted uncomfortably. The emptiness in Sara's eyes was really starting to bother him. "But I don't love her." He extended a hand, palm up. "I love you, Sara."
Sara slowly disentangled a hand to place in his. "Why?"
"Why what?" A cloud of confusion cast shadow on his face. His head shook a bit.
"I'm such a mess. Why do you love me?" Tears welled in her eyes and she shifted her gaze away from him.
"I love you because you're strong and beautiful and passionate. You're just… Sara. I don't think you're a mess."
She looked back at him, incredulous. "How can you say that," she whispered. "Look at me."
She was a sight: eyes red, skin flushed and damp with tears, hair mussed and frizzing slightly, clothes disheveled. He couldn't help but quirk a smile. Raw vulnerability and painful honesty shone from her.
It was beautiful.
Not Vegas showgirl beautiful. Not sleek dominatrix beautiful. Not even Sara's usual quirky beautiful.
Beautiful like a newborn babe. Beautiful like a butterfly struggling out of its chrysalis. Beautiful like a thunderstorm. Frightening, awe-inspiring, and so very… Real. So very much unlike the deceit and dissimulation he saw day in and year out.
Grissom realized he had been staring at Sara for several moments. She looked at him, puzzled.
"You're beautiful," he said, love crinkling his blue eyes.
"Yeah, right," Sara mumbled, standing abruptly. She strode off in search of a tissue and emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later a bit more composed.
As she passed by him on the way back to her chair, Grissom caught her about the waist and pulled her down onto his lap. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her lightly on the temple.
"You OK?" he asked.
He felt her shrug. "Today is one of those days when I feel like I'll never be OK. Something pushes my buttons and suddenly I'm just an orphan kid covered in blood spatter." She swallowed heavily and sniffed. "I thought I'd moved beyond all this. I hate reacting like this."
"It's OK," he soothed, rocking her slightly. "You're getting better at dealing with things and I'm so proud of you for it. I didn't make it easy for you in the last few days. I am sorry."
She nodded and sucked in a shaky breath.
"So," he said cautiously, "are we OK?"
She pulled back to look him in the eye. "Yeah. As long as you love me."
"Always." He leaned in and kissed her tenderly, infusing the kiss with a promise to try to be more careful of her heart. When they broke from the kiss, he whispered, "You look tired. Bed?"
She nodded and asked, "Will Bruno be OK if we stay here?"
"Yeah. I stopped by my place and let him out." They disentangled themselves from each other and stood. "We'll just have to stop back before work tonight."
Standing in front of the couch, they hugged for a moment before heading off to bed. As Grissom drifted off to sleep with his love spooned up against his chest, he could only thank whatever gods existed for being blessed by Sara's love.
FIN