PART 13: WHERE TRUTHS ARE TOLD
Sara was scanning the dictionary for unconventional "R" words. She was hoping to land the triple word score by playing off the "R" in "larynx".
"Got one: 'Ramism: the doctrines of Ramus based on opposition to Aristotelianism and advocacy of a new logic blended with rhetoric.' Double letter score, triple word score, and the lead."
They were playing "ultimate" Scrabble, a brainchild of Grissom's that involved using one board but the letters from two games, and having twice as many pieces in play at once. It also required that all words be over five letters long.
Turn about being fair play, Sara had invited herself over to Grissom's place, and they were sitting on the floor in his living room. They'd been at this for over an hour, both tired, but neither wanting to be the first to back down.
Grissom was the first to break. "My brain needs a breather." He stood, stretching, and then headed toward the kitchen. "Can I get you something more to drink?"
"Just some water would be great." Truthfully, she wanted a beer, and knew he had some. But he hadn't offered and she was afraid to ask. There were still some conversations that needed to be had between them, but not just yet.
Her knees cracked as she pulled herself up onto the couch, looking around once again. She'd only been at his place a handful of times, mostly because of work. In fact, the only time the visit had been social was when she had first arrived in town and he had made her dinner. That seemed like forever ago.
He returned and she took the beverage from him, hearing the ice clinking. "Well, professor, I'd say we've done good work here today."
"I concur," he answered dryly. "But you know, I'm letting you win."
She smiled, taking a few sips of her water before putting the glass on the table in front of them. "I know."
He joined her on the couch, and just looked at her, obviously thinking. She was fairly used to his "staring" by now, but it was still a bit disconcerting to be under that kind of scrutiny. "Griss?"
His eyes focused, and his expression turned apologetic. "Sorry, Sar. Didn't mean to zone on you like that."
"It's okay. Where were you just then?"
"Hmmm... Not a happy place."
Concerned, she inched closer to him, taking his hand. "Hey, what's up?"
"I've just been thinking a lot recently."
She waited for more. "Well, thinking is good. Anything specific?"
"Yes."
A pause. "Okay, Gil, I'm going to need a bit more than that."
And then he hugged her. He dropped her hand and put his arm around her, pulling her into his side, her head tucked under his chin. "Shut up, Sara. I'm still thinking."
Suddenly she had a whole lot to say, but she did as instructed. She could feel his heart beating beneath her ear, and it was nice.
Nice, but strange. Sara wasn't sure how to respond, where to put her hands. So she just hugged herself and waited, knowing instinctively that there was nothing romantic about this, nothing threatening, and able to relax and enjoy the moment.
It was a long moment.
"Maybe we should just be friends."
She guessed that meant he was done thinking. "What makes you say that?" she asked evenly, sitting up to look at him. He surprised her by nuzzling her nose ever so briefly with his before pulling back.
"Because we seem to be good at this."
Sara was more than a little confused. "Yes, we're very good at this."
"But not so good at...that."
"Speak for yourself!" she said lightly.
His serious tone didn't change. "I am." It would only take a few inches of forward movement to kiss her, but that seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind.
Sara brought a hand up to his face, soothing. "You're scared."
"Yes."
"Me, too."
He captured her hand and brought it to his lips, lightly brushing them across her knuckles. Then his expression flickered. "Scrabble might help."
"You might be right," she agreed somberly. "We should play. Finish the game. See how things go."
They smiled.
That was the only decision they made that night.
END OF PART 13