Part VIII
"Stars appear and shadows are falling
You can hear my heart a-calling"
--Buddy Holly, Oh, Boy!
She woke up face down on the mattress, a crocheted blanket draped over her body. Sara frowned as she lifted her neck, craning it for the sight of a clock. She must've dozed off after dinner. A big meal always made her feel sleepy.
Stretching, Sara got up off of the bed and rubbed her eyes. She could feel the sleep still in her bones. The bed called out to her, but she just wanted to see Grissom, to see his face, to make sure he was real. He was probably watching the news or some obscure documentary on insects, but all she needed was a look. She'd survive on that, Sara told herself.
She knew she'd soon have to live on much less.
Sara trudged sleepily to the living room and, upon finding it empty, assumed he was still in his father's study. She couldn't have been asleep too long. She rubbed her tired eyes and made her way to the study, expecting to see him, once again, on the couch.
The couch was empty.
More than a little alarmed despite her drowsy state, Sara checked the kitchen and the hall bathroom before remembering the one room she had not seen that day…
The door was still closed, but this time that did not stop her. She turned the knob and opened it wide. The wooden bunk bed had her furrowing her brow.
Bunk bed.
She shook her head, completely confused. She didn't know what she was expecting, but…this wasn't it. Sara's eyes searched the dark room. She made out a desk on the opposite end, a smaller version of the one in the study, flanked by bookshelves. There were shiny, silky things dotting the wall over the desk -- first place ribbons, she guessed. Sara took a step inside, bewildered. Above the dresser hung a poster: Los Angeles Dodgers 1965 World Champs.
Grissom's room.
Grissom's room as a boy.
She turned a full circle, soaking up as much as she could in the dark. This was his sanctuary. This is where he did his homework, where he worked on his science experiments and dreamed his dreams. In this room, the most perfect man grew up.
She walked to window at the far end of the room and gazed through the panes. Sara wondered how many times he had done the same thing, how many times he had looked up at the stars and pondered the mysteries of the universe from that very spot. She wished to ask him all of those questions and more, but knew they were well past that point. Had he wanted to share that information with her, he would have. As it was, Sara was left to imagine her love, forty years younger and staring up at the same sky.
A snort and a cough from behind had her gasping. Sara turned around and locked eyes on the bottom bunk. Under the covers lay Grissom, curled up on his side and snoring softly. She placed a hand over her heart and felt it pound against her palm. He had been there, asleep, the entire time.
Her breathing eventually slowed, but she couldn't find the strength to move. All she could do was stare at him as he slept, a sight she had not seen for months. The soles of her feet glued to the floor, Sara could not say how long she watched him, but it was long enough for him to sense her presence. One eye, followed by the other, peeled open and she could see the situation slowly register on his face. He furrowed his brow and lifted himself up on one elbow before saying her name softly. "What are you doing here?"
"I…couldn't sleep."
"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, sitting up straight.
"Fine. I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. She wanted to climb into bed with him so badly, just so he could hold her, just so he could tell her everything would be okay, that he'd never leave her side. She could feel every fiber of her being screaming for him, urging her to go to him, but she stood still. It wasn't what he wanted. He had obviously chosen to sleep in his small childhood bed rather than with her in the master bedroom.
Grissom had made his choice.
And Sara had to respect that, no matter how much it hurt.
"Do you need something?"
He was looking at her so sweetly, so earnestly, she had to avert her eyes. Sara locked her gaze on the top bunk and exhaled deeply.
A compromise.
Just this one night. A compromise, and then she'd let go.
"Could I…maybe have the top bunk? Just for tonight? I'm feeling a little bit…"
"Sure," he said evenly.
"Thank you," she told him. Sara climbed the very creaky latter to the top mattress and settled down on the comforter. It had been years since she had to sleep on a top bunk. She shimmied out of the jeans she had fallen asleep in earlier and carefully folded them and placed them towards the foot of the bed. The room was warm and Sara debated removing her long-sleeved black T-shirt as well, but decided against it. She didn't want him to think she was trying to seduce him. No, she just wanted to be near him, just wanted to hear him breathe as he slept.
Sara lay under the covers and sighed. Exhaustion was eating away at her, but she couldn't sleep. And from the lack of snoring coming from the bottom bunk, she was quite sure Grissom wasn't sleeping either. "Grissom?" she whispered.
"Yes?"
"Why do you have a bunk bed?"
"My mother thought it would be good for when my friends slept over."
"Oh." She waited a moment before continuing. "Was it?"
"I never had any friends over."
"Neither did I," she said, rolling over to rest on her stomach. "Did you sleep on the top bunk or the bottom bunk? Or did you switch?"
"Bottom bunk. My mom thought the top was too dangerous."
She pursed her lips. No one had ever thought the top was too dangerous for her. "I stuck to the top in all of the group homes. Newbies almost always wet the bed and it sucked sleeping under them."
He made no response. She guessed it was the urine anecdote that had silenced him.
"Grissom?"
"Hmm?"
"You never slept on the top bunk?"
He sighed. "No. I didn't."
"Did you ever climb up on the top bunk?"
"No."
"Do you want the top bunk now?"
No reply came from the bottom bunk.
"Grissom?"
"If I had wanted to sleep on the top bunk, I would've slept on the top bunk. It's not like my mother is here to say no."
Sara felt her throat tighten. She didn't mean to make him angry. She knew he was tired. He must've been exhausted. Grissom had been up for hours, had traveled from city to city, and had baptized a dying baby, all while she was either sedated in a hospital bed or dozing in the passenger's seat. He also had to deal with her intrusion in his life once more, and now she was sleeping in his childhood room.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. I--" He sighed loudly. She could hear the springs in his mattress squeak as he moved. Within seconds he was standing on the floor, his eyes level with hers as she lay on the top bunk. "I used to be scared I'd fall off. That's why I never slept on the top. That's why I never went on the top."
She gave him a small half-smile. "Now's your chance to conquer your fear."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay. But just for a minute." Grissom moved to the small wooden ladder while Sara scooted over to one end of the bed to make room for him. The wood creaked as he took his first step. "Jesus," he wheezed.
"What?"
"The rungs are digging into my feet."
"Oh, you have to sort of use your toes and the balls of your feet," Sara explained as he ascended the latter. "It takes practice."
Grissom only winced as he continued his climb, stopping only when his knees were level with the mattress. "How the hell do I do this?"
"I don't know…you just sort of…crawl on."
"Crawl on?" he muttered. "Jesus." In a few moments, his body was fully atop the mattress. "So this is it?" he asked, looking around at his room from above for the very first time.
"Welcome to the top."
He cocked a brow. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. I probably would've liked this when I was little."
"I don't know," she smiled. "You probably would've fallen and broken an arm at one point."
"Why do you say that?"
"You tend to move around in bed a lot."
He looked down at the bedspread and said nothing. Sara wished she had said nothing. She cursed herself for bringing up their relationship when he seemed determined to forget it.
"I, uh…"
The bed squeaked loudly as he fidgeted.
"I , uh…" he stammered once more. "I should get down."
The wooden posts groaned as he inched his way back to the far end of the bed.
Sara nodded and watched him.
And then the bed gave way.
An audible snap was followed by a loud crash, both accompanying the descent of the top bunk to its mate below. Sara's heart had leapt in her chest as she tried to grasp what had happened: one second she had been watching him just as he was about to attempt the climb down, and the next he was holding her tight, asking if she were hurt, if she had been hit by any of the splintered wood or debris. "Did any of it get you?" he wheezed, out of breath.
All she knew was that he was so warm, and that it felt so good to be in his arms again.
"I'm fine," she said, and turned her head slightly to get a better idea of how they had landed. The top mattress was tilted a bit, with the foot of the bed slightly elevated. Grissom was still on her, plucking a shard of wood that had tangled itself in her hair while he kept repeating his queries. "I'm fine," she told him once more. "Really. Are you? Are you okay?" she asked, suddenly desperately worried he'd blame this whole mess on her for goading him into joining her on the top bunk.
"I'm fine," he breathed into her face, his eyes boring into hers.
Sara reached up, placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. He was quivering. She frowned and slid her hand down over his flannel pajama top to his heart. Grissom's eye twitched as she began to rub there softly, first in short strokes, and then in longer ones that spanned his entire chest. His own hand moved from the side of her abdomen down to her hip where he encountered her bare flesh. Something sizzled in his eyes and, in mere seconds, Sara felt her panties being tugged down to her knees. She was with him, beat for beat, and slipped her hands into the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms, fondling his hot flesh while he speared her moist cleft with two thick fingers. Sara knew she couldn't take much more stimulation and quickly shoved his bottoms down past his hips. Grissom got the message and withdrew his fingers from her body, replacing them with his shaft. They both grunted loudly as they joined for the first time in months. All thoughts of finesse and foreplay were thrown out the window as the lovers worked toward a single goal. For Sara, she was already practically poised to climax the moment his warm arms encased her body. His steady, deep rhythm drove her to orgasm quickly, and Grissom soon followed, issuing a guttural moan as he spilled himself into her.
TBC…
