Chapter Eleven:
Her statement left him speechless.
He took it as sarcasm and he was certain she knew he was no better than Dover.
"I'm tired, Grissom. I just want to sleep," she said quickly.
His mouth opened but no words came forth and it just made the inner turmoil worse for both.
She returned the plate on the tray and slid back into the covers turning her back to him.
"I'll wake you in a few hours," he said.
"Night," she managed to get out.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?"
"No."
She gulped.
No hesitation…
There's never been a hesitation…
Never any doubt in his mind…
He felt completely off balance at that moment.
Did she really sense the way I looked at her?
She probably thinks I'm as bad as Dover…
He quickly retreated to his side of the room and stayed there dreading when he would have to examine her again.
He felt completely miserable.
He knew those same feelings would still be there.
Just thinking about it caused his pulse to race as his libido flew into overdrive.
You're just as sleezy as Dover…
Hours passed and yet he did not sleep.
There had not been a sound from her side and he hated to wake her if she were sleeping.
He glanced at his watch and cursed inwardly as he swung his feet over the side of the bed.
He grabbed the clipboard and gently tapped on the wall.
He was surprised to find her sitting up in the bed with her legs pulled up against her chest.
"Feeling better?" he asked.
She was prepared for him, having changed into just the robe.
"I'm good," she said as she left the bed and headed for the bathroom.
She opened the robe, turning her back, trying to repeat each step and movement she'd done before.
His hand actually shook this time as he examined the rash which was still very visible and seemed to be irritated.
"The ointment doesn't seem to be helping," he said.
The snap of the camera startled her and she actually stepped away.
She had closed her eyes and forced herself to think of a happier moment and for a few precious seconds she had been in a lecture hall listening to Grissom answer her question and he was smiling at her.
She had leaned toward the podium and he had actually placed his hand on her arm as he invited her for a coffee and it had felt so very warm and gentle.
The flash of the camera had ruined the memory, bringing her back to this moment when she stood there before him feeling rather vulnerable and plain and she was not sure why she felt the sudden urge to shove him out of the room.
"I'm sorry…are you alright?" he asked when she stepped away.
He had forced himself to focus on her shoulders despite the fact that the rash was primarily on her lower back and thighs.
It was taking longer this time even though he tried to rush through the examination.
Her reaction threw both of them into defensive modes.
"Sara, I have to take the photos. I'm almost done," he said.
"It's a rash," she said.
"Yes, it is but we have to document this," he explained.
He snapped another photo.
She flinched and once again he was thrown off task.
He fumbled with the pen as he scribbled his notes.
"Since when are you interested in beauty?"
"Since I met you."
God, she is so beautiful…
He dropped the pen and cursed.
He knew his actions were not helping her to feel at ease.
"Turn," he said rather harshly as he tried to find the pen.
Sara felt that he was growing impatient with her.
"You said you didn't have a problem with me"
"I don't."
He lied…
He's always had a problem with me…
She almost wished it was Dover when he ordered her to turn and face him.
It was obvious he disliked the task.
He picked up the pen and found himself in a rather awkward position as his eyes roamed from her toes to her knees to her hips and then…
She took a deep breath again and again.
She could not seem to catch her breath.
His eyes immediately shot to her face.
Her face…
Those huge dark eyes….with unshed tears…
She gulped.
He closed his eyes feeling rather dirty from the thoughts that crossed his mind.
He cursed and she gritted her teeth not wishing to bother him with this task any further but she knew she would have to in order to avoid Dover or Rogers.
The rash had now spread to her navel and was present on her left breast.
He was required to take photos this time.
He snapped quickly.
As soon as he reached for the clipboard she grabbed the robe and disappeared behind the curtain.
He knocked on the outside door and handed the clipboard to Rogers.
"This is only a rash. I don't see why we have to…"
"One more exam," said Rogers as he took the clipboard. He glanced at the photos and then back at Grissom. "This is spreading."
"It doesn't match…it doesn't look like the victims," whispered Grissom.
"I'll bring another ointment," he offered.
Rogers glanced at Grissom.
"You don't have any symptoms?" he asked.
Grissom shook his head.
"If you don't want her to…I could examine you," offered Rogers.
"That's not necessary," said Grissom. "I don't have a rash."
Grissom plopped down on his bed and groaned.
He grabbed his robe and disappeared into the bathroom.
A cold shower did not seem to help as he stood there ignoring the freezing water.
He glanced down and noticed red blotches on his shoulders and chest.
Further examination showed the same rash on his lower legs.
He toweled himself off and then wrapped the robe around his body.
He opened the bathroom and practically ran into her.
"I'm going to get Rogers," he said.
She seemed a bit confused by his announcement until he added "Whatever you have…I seem to have it as well."
Her eyes shot up. "You have a rash?"
"Yes."
She reached for his robe but he stepped back. "That's not necessary."
The last thing he wanted was to force her to have to examine him.
She stepped back as if she had been slapped. "No problem."
The last thing he wants is for me to see him unclothed…
Not me…
Never me…
Sara dove into the bathroom as Grissom tapped on the door and waited for Rogers.
She could hear Rogers as he examined Grissom.
"Perhaps both of you were exposed to something prior to the contamination," offered Rogers.
"It's possible. Both of us worked doubles," replied Grissom.
"We can try another ointment," offered Rogers. "I took some scrapings just like you did with Sara's and I'll send it to the lab immediately."
As soon as Rogers left, she stepped out of the bathroom.
Grissom watched as she marched right past him and disappeared once again behind the curtain.
Rogers opened the door. "Let's try this."
He held a tube of ointment.
Grissom reached for it but Rogers refused to let go of it.
"I'll have to administer it…and document," he explained.
Once he finished, Rogers glanced over to the curtain.
"You'll need to apply this to Ms. Sidle as well," said Rogers.
Grissom's face paled.
"I can do it," offered Rogers.
Grissom adamantly shook his head, taking the ointment from Roger's hand.
Rogers turned to leave but stopped. "Mr. Grissom…
Grissom looked at the man.
Rogers cursed inwardly.
You can't let him know the truth just yet…
We're almost done…
"Let me know if you or Ms. Sidle….need anything," he said as he fled the room.
Grissom waited a moment before stepping through the curtain.
Sara lay there on her bed with the ipod.
Her eyes were closed and he was not certain if she had fallen asleep.
One touch and she jumped.
"Sorry," he said as he held up the ointment.
She grabbed the ointment from his hand.
"I can do this," she said.
He wanted to object.
"Sara…"
"I can get Rogers to do this…if I'm not able."
She disappeared into the bathroom and held her breath to see whether he would charge in there but he didn't and she was not sure why it hurt when he did not object to the thought of Rogers doing it.
Neither slept.
Both dreaded the examination that would follow in the morning.
As soon as the lights were turned on, Grissom sat on the edge of his bed.
She had already padded to the bathroom just before the lights came on and now she stood there in the doorway.
Both stared at one another.
"Rogers is going to be here soon to examine me," he began.
He felt they should begin quickly so he could give Roger's the results of Sara's exam.
"Good, he can examine us both," she said not bothering to notice the shocked look on Grissom's face.
Fine!
If she prefers someone else than me…
"He can probably help you with the ointment as well," said Grissom as he got off his bed and took his turn in the bathroom.
Her nerve deflated the moment he shut the door.
What did you expect Sara?
He's not liked doing it from the beginning…
She trembled at the thought of stripping once more.
Dover had been awful.
It won't be Dover…
It will be Rogers…
Rogers is not like Dover…
Come on Sara…
Get a grip. You've done this before…even with Greg present…
Just a medical procedure…
Grissom cursed as he washed his face and leaned against the sink.
If she wants to display her body to someone else…
He closed his eyes at the sickening memory of how Dover had looked at Sara…his Sara!
She's not yours, Grissom…
She never was and never will be…
He threw open the bathroom door.
"You want to go first or shall I?" he challenged.
"I'll go first," she announced as she headed toward the door but halted the moment the door opened and Dover stepped in.
Note from author:
Oh, my! I seem to have a knack for these last lines. LOL Let's hurry so we don't leave it like this for long!
Take care!