Need
By Anansay
February 11, 2003
"I can't."
Silence.
"What do you mean, you can't'?"
Silence.
"I just can't do it anymore."
He stared at her, trying to fathom some deeper meaning to her words.
She stood leaning against the counter in the breakroom, coffee cup held in both hands, staring down into the dark liquid. Her shoulders were slumped, her entire frame seemed on the verge of collapsing in on itself. Her hair fell beside her head, framing her face and keeping it from view. Only her voice came out.
"Sara, what do you mean?"
Grissom had seen Sara dejected before. Upset, depressed, crying even screaming. But never like this. This this was something new. Something not Sara. Not the Sara he knew. This was just wrong. Had she really gotten to that point, of no more hope? Her voice held nothing but misery. Absolute despair.
Like it or not, and he would never admit this to anyone in all his living years, Sara had become a sort of leaning post for him. She expressed what he only yearned to express. She complimented him, her total expression of self against his total repression of self. She allowed him to feel though her. He assumed it to be a reciprocal relationship: his guarded self allowed her to lean on him when her own emotions became too much to handle.
But now, she stood there, unmoving, quiet and morose. Keeping it in? No! Not like him! He needed her!
He stood in front her and gently took the cup from her hands. It came away easily, the liquid still touching the rim but the cup cold. How long had she been standing there, staring at it? He wondered. Her head stayed down; her arms fell gently to her sides.
He stood there, not touching her. He ought to, he knew that. But that was a line he had avoided for a long time. Touching meant feeling. Feeling meant knowing. Knowing meant no turning back. That was a scary option. No turning back. And yet and yet there had been a time, a long time ago it seemed, in another life time, with another Grissom, where that line seemed so much thinner. It was easy to cross. Not too much of a jump. But time and experience had made the line much thicker now. It was now a chasm of self-doubt to be overcome .
Tentatively, he brought his hands up and placed them on her arms. She didn't move. Her breathing was slow and shallow. She didn't look at him.
He stood there, with his hands on her arms, not knowing what to do next. Something in him said, hug her, dammit! But that too meant another line to cross: even more physical touching. He sighed deeply. His body ached to feel her against him. It always had. Everyday since she came to Vegas. Sometimes she would stand so close to him, just barely touching him. His mind would freeze. His heart would race. The urge to turn around and grab her in his arms would be almost overwhelming. Sometimes, he could sneak in a touch here and there, a hand on her back, on her arm, a brush of arms in the hallway. But it was never enough. Never enough. A tease of the heart.
But now he was faced with the very real opportunity of physical, yet platonic, intimacy. But there was that line again. That line so thick so looming so wide and oh so scary. His body screamed at him, his skin burning to move forward those few inches.
His arms seemed to have acquired a mind of their own as they pulled her flaccid body toward him gently yet firmly. A small part of his mind tried to poke him but it was quickly silenced as she melted against him, molding her body to his, her head turning to rest on his shoulder.
She didn't cry. She didn't move at all in fact, just lay there against him, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do.
His heart however, beat wildly in his chest, his body beginning to shake every so slightly as his arms moved to wrap themselves around her, holding her tenderly against him. The smell of her hair wafted up to him, its intoxicating fragrance burrowing deep into his subconscious. His head tilted sideways, his lips landing on her head in a small kiss. His eyes closed, unable to stay open with the maddening rush of blood in his body heading to a certain area.
Her head moved against him, as though seeking a more comfortable spot.
He froze. His eyes popped open.
She was moving against him. Oh, how his body longed for His breathing was quick and shallow, though he tried to control it.
Her hands came up, fingers lightly touching him through his shirt, sending tendrils of electricity through his body. Her fingers touched him until her hands flattened against his back and she pulled him to her in a mutual embrace.
Now their bodies were touching even more. Oh god he thought. This is not good not good at all what if she feels oh god He swallowed hard, his hands beginning to shake against her back. He tried to steady them, to no avail. He pressed them hard against her to stop it, but that only pulled her more into him, furthering his own descent into the lustful abyss in which he now found himself. His eyes rolled back into his head as the lids came down. He was going to loose it, very soon. He could feel it. It was coming. The line was crossed. He held her in his arms, against his body.
Her head moved again, this time it turned against his shoulder, her face now pressed into his neck. Her warm breath caressing the sensitive skin there, heating it, adding to his own heat. His chin began to tremble in his attempt at self control. He knew this was the right thing to do, to hold a friend in need. But this was Sara! This was the one woman whom he had dreamed of holding... fantasized about what it would be like to Never mind!! He told himself sternly. Do NOT go there!
She moaned against his skin. A soft throaty sound. Once again, his mind froze.
"Hmm" came the sound again. "This is nice"
What?
"Sara?"
"Yeah Griss?"
"Are you okay?"
"Mm-hmm I am now"
Oh god Oh god Oh god
"Oh Okay"
Yeah RIGHT!!
WHAT THE –
She kissed him.
On the neck, just a small friendly kiss. But it was her lips!! On HIS neck!!! Oh God!!
Breathe! Breathe Gil!! Just breathe get that oxygen to the brain THINK!! THINK!!
"Uh thanks Sara"
What the hell was that? Never mind
She moved against him again. This time her whole body moved, getting closer, if that were indeed possible. Every inch of his body seemed to be in contact with hers now. And every inch of his body cursed the day clothes were invented. Damn!
Her lips touched him again, this time staying longer against his skin. Her breath coming through her nose tickled him in ways tickling ought not to feel. Her lips moved against his skin, dragging the kiss with it. It was no longer a kiss anymore. This was something more than kiss. Much more than a friendly kiss, by all means.
Her lips moved upward, toward his jaw, toward his lips. Her hands played on his back, caressing him. Did her hips just jut into him? Oh god they did And now her lips were by his chin. Her soft, warm lips coming closer and closer His mouth fell open, unable to keep itself closed any longer.
He felt her lips against his, lightly at first, a delicate brushing of skin against skin. Her tongue darted out and licked his lips. Now it was his turn his hips thrusting toward her. He could feel her sweet breath on his wet lips as she continued to tease him with her tongue and lips. He fought to stay where he was, not to join in. But his body had other ideas. Their lips met and melded, a delicate meshing of lips and tongues at first. A gentle probing of each other's willingness to proceed.
His hands moved up on her back and pulled her to him as he deepened the kiss, unable to keep it light any longer. He turned his head and plunged his tongue into her mouth, moaning with pleasure and pain as the sensual flood gates opened. She responded with as much zest and gusto as he could have hoped for, pulling him even closer – if that were possible – to her.
He explored her mouth with his tongue, her body with his hands, drowning in his own libidinous desires. This was so much more than he could ever have hoped for. She was responding to him with so much abandon, considering where they were.
Where they were oh GOD!!! The Breakroom!!
With much torment of the soul, he pulled away from her, their lips sticking to each other's until the last possible moment. Their breathing coming in quick shallow gasps, they opened their eyes.
Her eyes were darker than usual, if that were possible. She stared back at him with half closed eyes, her mouth hanging open slightly, like his. Her lips were slightly swollen from their mutual assault on each other. His eyes searched her face for anything different. Except for the desire he read so plainly in her eyes, there was nothing there to make him reconsider what had just transpired.
"I can do it" she said quietly, never taking her eyes away from his.
His face mirrored his confusion. He tilted his head to one a side a bit. "What?"
She smiled softly. "Now, I can do it. I can still work here"
He searched her face again, trying to fathom what her words could mean this time.
She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Now I can work here, Griss."
She took her hands away from his back and walked toward the door. She turned around. "Thanks, I needed that."
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