HEAT

CHAPTER EIGHT

Grissom and Sara settled in under their makeshift shelter, legs outstretched and holding hands. They leaned against a boulder, talking of anything they pleased. She told him about the rattlesnake and he agreed that she was very lucky. He told her of previous experiences with snakes and other dangerous wild creatures and they swapped stories for a while, learning more about each other as the time passed.

"If it wasn't for the water situation, I would say this was actually... a great adventure," said Sara.

"Yeah. If we had plenty of water and more food, I'd say the same. Other than my body betraying me and breaking down, it's kind of been...fun," Grissom smiled at her. "The company is great."

Sara grinned at him. "Yours too. If I had to be stuck out here with anyone, I'm glad it was you." Grissom squeezed her hand gratefully.

The light faded and a dark shadow fell over their shelter. Grissom got goosebumps and put his T-shirt back on and tucked it in. Sara rubbed her legs and arms, then fetched the lip balm and asked Grissom to spread it on the nagging patch of sunburn on her back. He did so happily and continued up the back of her neck and down her shoulders, planting little kisses along the way and making Sara giggle. She offered him his shirt but he insisted she wear it.

Sara returned the favor and smeared the balm on his arms and neck and face, avoiding his eyes.

"My skin is so smooth and supple now," Grissom teased.

"Kissably soft," Sara answered, demonstrating, and he chuckled.

"I can't get used to how quickly the temperature goes down in the desert, at night," Sara commented. "It sucks."

"You know, Sara, I think that's the first time I've heard you complain this entire time," Grissom observed. "You really don't whine about anything. It's admirable."

"Never really thought about it," she shrugged. "Guess you're right. Complaining... doesn't help. It just makes the others around you miserable, and keeps you focused on whatever is bothering you, instead of just doing something constructive."

"An excellent character trait. I'll try to remember that."

"You don't complain much either, Gil. You're a cool-headed guy."

"Thanks. That makes me think about what Catherine would be like in this situation." Sara cocked a quizzical eyebrow in his direction. Grissom explained, "I mean, she's a dear friend and a good scientist and a talented CSI, but if she and I hiked all the way out here in that heat, can you imagine? Constant whining. Worrying about whether we were lost or not. Bitching about everything and nothing. God! She'd drive me nuts." Sara smiled at him.

"How do you think she would have handled it if you'd keeled over in front of her?" Sara asked, just as she was imagining it. They thought about that.

"That's...hard to say. She does have nurturing instincts, so hopefully they would kick in." Sara agreed. "After she cursed me out roundly, of course." Sara chuckled at the thought. "She's a tough broad and would probably have made it out."

"Without you?" Sara asked him.

"I think so. She's not much for waiting around, and prefers to take action, even if it's ill-advised." Grissom answered thoughtfully, remembering times she had done just that. Sara nodded and agreed.

"And Warrick? Or Nick?"

"Nick is more of an outdoorsman, so I can see him doing some of the same things you thought of. Can't see him snuggling up to me at night though. Ugh." Sara grinned. "Warrick is a city boy, but he has a heart of gold. I think he'd try to carry me out. I'm a big guy, and he wouldn't get far. So he'd have to leave me and go for help too. And Greg would be...Greg."

"Greg. Yeah, he might be panic-stricken for a while, but I think he'd try to make you comfortable and then go for help. He's pretty wiry. And does rugged stuff like scuba dive and surf. Then again he might stay with you."

"Good point. I think he mentioned he was an Eagle Scout too. I have to stop under-estimating young Sanders." Sara grinned at him. She'd often tried to stand up for Greg and get Grissom to be more appreciative of him. "In any case," Grissom continued more somberly, "I think my condition would have...deteriorated rapidly...without someone with me. No one to give me water, or keep me in the shade. I could easily have gone into a coma. I could have...died."

"Yeah," Sara said sadly. "You could have. I...would have..." she trailed off.

"What, honey? Tell me."

"I...would have...fallen to pieces. If you'd dropped dead, not just unconscious? I would have sat by you and wept and waited for someone to find us. For days. Whatever it took. Piled rocks–-a cairn--around you to keep the vultures away. Sat shiva. Cut off my hair with a dull knife and rubbed ashes on my face..."

"Ashes!" Grissom yelled excitedly. Sara jumped at the sudden noise and the bizarre turn their conversation had taken.

"Of course!" He scrambled out of the shelter. Sara followed him, puzzled.

"A fire! Let's build a fire!" he shouted.

"Of course!" Sara said excitedly. "Why didn't I think of that? You can see a fire for miles and miles in the dark. And the smoke in daytime. And it'll keep us warm all night!"

"Let's do it!" Grissom immediately started gathering every scrap of wood he could find.

Sara ranged further in the twilight, but when she brought an armful back she could see that Grissom was quickly tiring. She ordered him to pick a spot close but not too close to the shelter and tear up strips of notepaper from the kit. He knew she was right, and did so. Carefully, he assembled piles of twigs and slivers of wood, and took out his pocket knife and whittled shavings. Sara made repeated trips and returned with piles of firewood.

Together, they built a small fire. They looked at each other in expectation and he lit a waterproof match from his kit. They watched the tiny flame lick the paper and sucked in a breath when the twigs and shavings caught too. Grissom added a slightly larger stick, and then another, and another, and the dry wood flamed up beautifully.

They grinned at each other and their spirits rose.

Grissom dug out two Power Bars and handed one to Sara, saying grandly, "Dinner is served." He found her bra and dangled it playfully from his fingers and she giggled.. They chewed their meager meal and washed it down with water. The bottle was more than half empty now. Mesmerized by the fire, they huddled together and watched it.

"I don't know why it's taking so long for them to find us," Sara said tiredly.

"I can't imagine either," he agreed.

"We've heard nothing, seen nothing. Not a helicopter, not dogs, not shouting voices, not so much as a cloud of dust," she commented. "They know where we started from, and they know where we were going. If you draw a line from Point A to Point B, and follow it, shouldn't you be able to find us along that path?"

"Makes perfect sense to me. Wonder what the hell is going on." They shook their heads.

Sara dragged herself to her feet, got out her Maglite, and set out for more and more wood. She concentrated on finding the biggest pieces she could, so the coals would stay hot and bright and last till daylight.

"Sara, honey. That's enough for the night. Rest now. Take it easy, okay?"

"One more trip, promise."

Sara came back with an entire gnarled dead mesquite bush and threw it triumphantly into the flames. Streams of golden sparks flew up and she laughed.

Grissom cheered at the sight and urged her down beside him. She snuggled in close.

"Lay down, honey. Lay your head in my lap. I'll tend the fire. You sleep."

"All right, Gil." Sara laid her weary aching body down. "Thanks, hon. Good night."

"Good night, honey. Sweet dreams."

Sara laid her head in his lap and Gil stroked her hair and crooned old lullabies, softly, until she fell asleep.

Grissom held her close, thinking about this wonderful woman curled up like a cat in his lap. How much she meant to him. He thought about their history since they'd first met and how she had remained the same all these years, both in physical beauty and spirited personality. Sara was a constant wonder. From time to time he tossed more wood into the fire and tried to ignore the stiffness in his joints and how cold his back felt leaned up against a rock, with just a damp T-shirt in between.

Finally it got too much for him and he tried to move her gently so he could get his jacket and the poncho as a blanket. Sara was a light sleeper and she stirred.

"Gil? What's wrong?" she said sleepily.

"So sorry to wake you, dear. I'm just going to get the jacket and our blanket, okay?"

"Mm..okay. Cold."

Grissom carefully disassembled their shelter, cursing when he banged his knee on a rock in the darkness. Sara quietly snickered at him. He untied the jacket and put it on. Then he thought of something else and fetched latex gloves from the crime scene kit and handed a pair to her.

"Good idea." Sara put the gloves on and smiled at him when her chilled hands instantly warmed. Grissom put a pair on too and they maneuvered the poncho until it covered their legs like the night before. He lay down behind her so she was closer to the fire and held her in his arms. Spooning as comfortably close as if they'd done so for years, they fell asleep.

TBC