Title: The Destination
Author: Giwu
Rating: M
Pairing: GSR
Summary: How did Sara and Grissom get back together?
Spoilers: This is a continuation of my story, The Journey of 1000 Miles. You don't have to read that one prior to reading this one. Series spoilers...up to Season 7.
Author's Notes: GSR is canon...some of my details may not be.
Disclaimer: You-all do know I don't own them, right?
Chapter Four
Gil stood frozen at the door, remembering when he was a kid and his mother had accidentally hit a deer late at night while they were driving home from a movie. He now knew the feeling of being unable to move and being blinded by headlights even when there was an impending collision. Every fiber of his body wanted to blurt out something trite and dash out the door. But that just opened another can of worms as he was still hoping he would be able to find his car. He swallowed and opted for a light comment.
"I figured since I kicked you out of your own bed at some point, I wouldn't add insult to injury and wake you," he said in what he could only hope was a jovial tone.
The blanket rustled and slid off the mystery woman. Sara sat up, stretched and yawned pointedly. "It was a pretty late night for both of us," she said.
Gil felt like he had been kicked in the balls. His mind was spinning and he wanted to throw up-and it had nothing to do with the hangover. Sara. It was Sara. Oh, shit…..SARA! I spent the night with Sara. Jesus Christ, when I want to screw up my life, I do it all the way. Of course, nothing half-assed for me. What the hell do I do now? Okay, stay calm, keep a poker face, and don't let her see how horrified you are. Oh, yeah, never mind being caught in headlights, I am pretty sure getting run over by a car would be less painful than they conversation I am about to have with her. Breathe, just breathe. Maybe you didn't sleep with her. Uh-huh and maybe the moon really is made of green cheese. Anything is possible in Gil's fantasy land. Welcome aboard; come on in, the water's fine, current population: one.
He nodded and inexplicably remembered something Brass had told him years ago the first time he witnessed an interrogation shortly after arriving in Vegas as a new CSI. Possibly, it might be the only thing that will keep him from tossing his cookies all over her carpet in the next 30 seconds.
"The key is to get the suspect talking. The guilty ones can shut up-even when it is their own ass on the line," said Brass. "Let them do all the talking and you will eventually get the information you want. The less you say, the more they will sing."
He nodded again and cleared his throat, stalling for time. "Catherine left me a text message that you called out sick and I was going to stop by the lab on my way home and see if they needed anything," he said.
"I wasn't sure how you would be feeling or how long you were going to sleep. I didn't want you to wake up alone," she said.
"Thank you. I appreciate that. It was a bit confusing to wake up in a different place," he said. "Oh…I…uh…dropped your toilet seat cover in the shower when I was getting out. Sorry about that." He hoped he was not giving any nonverbal cues that he was lying to her.
She looked slightly perplexed as she tried to figure out how he had accomplished that feat. Eventually she shook her head. "No problem. If you're up for it, I could make us some breakfast," she said.
Grissom's stomach gave a lurch of protest at the mention of food. He visibly winced and Sara couldn't hold back a chuckle.
"I think the look on your face speaks louder than words," she said teasing him.
He gave her a wan smile and noticed the disappointment in her eyes. He hated to be the one who put that look on her face and he always seemed to do it. "I was thinking a raincheck might be a good idea. Would you like to meet about 600 PM tonight…well tomorrow night before shift at the dinner? It will my treat since you had to put up with me," he said.
She hesitated. "Please, Sara," he said softly.
I'll see you at the diner at six," she said as she stood up and walked over to him.
He heard her lock the door behind him and his next worry was unnecessary. There was his car-parked crookedly in two spaces, but at least it was in her parking lot. He gave an audible sigh of relief.
The drive home was a quiet one for Gil. He was struggling to remember what had happened in the last few hours. It came to him in flashes. He remembered leaving work. He remembered going to the bar…and getting thrown out of the bar. It was a blur how he arrived at Sara's apartment, but he was pretty sure he had stopped for more to drink before he got there. Bits and pieces of the conversation they had had zoomed through his mind. He knew why he had gone there. What was torturing him now was he could not remember if they had made love. There was no possible way he could ask her.
He wandered around his townhome for most of the night just catching up on all the mundane tasks he had let go for so long. We he did lie down to catch a few hours of sleep, he was restless. He played the scene repeatedly in his head. After waking up half a dozen times he decided to give in and start his day.
He was fifteen minutes early for supper and did not see her car in the parking lot. Of course not, why would she be 15 minutes early? Only someone as anxious as you would be that lame…" He barely finished her thought when her Mustang pulled in next to his car. Oh. Maybe she is as nervous as I am. He took a deep breath and climbed out of the car.
She smiled at him and much to his chagrin he was tongue-tied. He had mentally practiced what he was going to say and now he was flooded with panic as he couldn't form the words. He had a slight reprieve as they took their seats and ordered. Finally he took a deep breath.
"Sara, I came to your place last night because I realized with everything that has happened, I am not happy with where you and I are," he said.
"That much was pretty obvious," she answered, her face neutral.
Okay, part one went well. Ecklie and the sheriff have instructed me that all of us will take a minimum of seven days vacation before Nick returns from Texas and personnel are shuffled around," he said. "Catherine will be gone for ten days, then Warrick and Greg will take their turn."
Sara didn't see there was any connection between his first and second statement. She was dreading seven long days of no work. She was slightly surprised that Greg was ahead of her on Grissom's list, but maybe during the next couple of weeks she could somehow convince Ecklie she didn't need a vacation. Maybe she could find a conference or seminar to attend.
"Griss, I really don't need the time off, I would tell you if I did," she said.
I don't think I need the time off either, but this is mandatory," he said. Plus, I have something important to ask you. His heart was beating very fast now.
"What's that?" she asked.
He plunged forward to the point of no return. "Sara, would you like to go to San Francisco with me for ten days?"
A/N: I know I said I would write two more chapters before the season finale, but it worked better as one chapter. No, I will never answer the question whether they did or didn't when Grissom was drunk. Yes, I do know. heh heh
