A/N: Thanks for the many reviews. Your support really encourages me to continue. These two just have me shaking my head. Look for the next update whenever. You are still terrific! –Kathy
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The blender swirled the fruit and ice cream through the orange juice.
As he watched these separate, unrelated ingredients mixing thoroughly together to create a new, more nutritious drink, he thought about his life, and about his Sara.
She and I. We're like two separate, unrelated ingredients who found our way together in this crazy mixed-up world.
Standing alone, our lives have meaning…but are …one dimensional. Our work defines us.
But together…we are joined to create something…infinitely more wonderful.
Our love defines us.
He smiled. Just as quickly, it was replaced with a sigh.
She didn't want to talk about it. Any of it. Not with him, anyway.
But Warrick knew.
I promise…
The words haunted him.
Jealousy flared a bit in him, but he tamped it down with a firm resolve and moved to finish his current task. He was here with Sara. She wanted to be with him. She was in his bed.
She was asleep…just waiting for him to kiss her awake.
Gil carried a small tray containing her healthy snack and headed towards the bedroom.
Upon arriving, he was startled by the scene before him.
He had left her alone in their bed, but she was no longer alone when he returned.
Each corner post, the headboard, and footboard of the king-sized sleeping area was covered in multi-hued fluttering wings.
As if on sentry duty, Sara's protectors had continued the supervision which they had begun upon her return earlier in the day.
His movements towards the bed caused those in his path to move away in order to admit him, while they merely alighted on a different area surrounding where their princess lay.
He leaned forward to leave a trail of soft kisses on her cheeks and neck.
She jerked awake, wide eyes moving wildly from left to right, seeking validation that she was indeed safe.
He stroked her hair lovingly as he whispered softly:
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."
She relaxed and smiled at him sleepily. "I love when you recite Shakespeare to me."
He kissed her gently, and replied whisper-close to lips, "I know. You told me."
He helped her sit up. She winced but said nothing as he plumped some pillows behind her.
He handed her the tray, refusing to submit when she balked at consuming the much needed nourishment.
"Sweetheart, if you finish this quickly, I will draw us another hot bath."
That did the trick.
She loved soaking up to her neck in steamy water, the jets creating a soothing whirlpool.
She loved feeling that wonderful warmth even more when she was resting against him, feeling totally and wonderfully protected in his strong embrace.
She took a sip through the straw, not letting him know how painful it was to use the drinking aid as her face was slightly swollen from the attack.
"Thanks, that was good," she smiled slightly, moving to set the drink back on the end table.
"But…it isn't finished…" he smiled slightly, moving her hands back, towards her lap.
She sighed and moved the drink back toward her mouth, sidestepping the straw.
The action was not lost on him.
"Mouth hurt much?" he queried gently. It was the first reference that he had made to the previous night's events.
She was quick to shake her head, sure she heard marbles rolling around in the back of her neck as she did so. Sara was desperate to stall the inevitable confrontation as long as possible.
However, Gil Grissom was a renowned interrogator, not easily dissuaded.
"Sara…" he started, but she was handing him the drink. She needed more time.
"Gil…I really need to lay back down..." she said, sincerely this time, as her injuries were aching and her heart was breaking at the memory of her dilemma.
He noticed the sincerity in her actions, and asked aloud if she might like to reconsider and let Doc do a more thorough exam than she allowed last evening.
Sara had already closed her eyes and again shook her head quickly.
But to herself, she thought, I don't want to talk right now…to anyone…she resolved, settling her head deeper into the comfort of the pillows.
He watched her for a long minute.
I love her.
I love taking care of her.
I want to spend my whole life loving her…just as she says she has always loved me, and only me.
Let me help you, Sara,…my love….
Tell me about you and…Warrick…
Talk to me…please talk to me…
He took her hand. "How about that nice long soak?"
His heart sang when he was greeted with the special smile Sara reserved only for him.
It had been far too long since he had seen it.
It made him happy that his efforts to comfort her were meeting with approval.
"I'll just be a little bit…" he said softly.
Sara's gaze drifted over the room before she closed her eyes again.
This is my home
Filled with the sounds of Grissom on the other side of the closed door to the master bath, adding water to that blessed vessel of relief.
Filled with the smell of the vanilla and peach candles that stood unburned, but added a light fragrance to the air.
Filled with the sights of our butterflies perched on the bedding, the fresh flowers he had placed on the dresser, the shadowy figure at the door…
Wait…No!...
Before she could move, he was upon her.
She wanted to scream, but couldn't seem to find enough breath to make the slightest sound.
He was holding her down, hand clamped over her mouth.
He was reeking of scotch … and lust.
He was touching her, reaching under the blanket…NO!
She managed to free her trapped mouth from under the pressure of his large hands.
She was screaming his name, pleading with him, begging him…
"Grissom! Please! Help me! Please! I need you! GRISSOM!"
The pressure lightened under her screams.
Her eyes remained defiantly shut against having to relive the horror of seeing his sickly grin.
He was pulling her frantically to him, telling her to calm down, to relax, that no one was going to hurt her.
But you already did hurt me! Sara's mind screamed as her body's adrenaline rushed to make her defense more powerful than before.
"Get off me, you bastard!" Sara screamed. "Not again! Take your filthy hands off me!"
She continued to battle for her life, screaming for Grissom's help.
Her hands were subdued at her sides once again, but she kept squirming. She wasn't going to let this happen again without knowing she did all she could to defend herself.
The phone was ringing in the distance. "Help me!" she cried, as if the caller could hear through the unopened device.
"SARA!"
She could hear Grissom calling her. He was here. He would save her. He would release her from this death grip the shadowy figure had on her.
He would protect her.
She could relax now.
He was right here.
She was safe…
Somewhere deep inside her, an awareness was spawned that those last four sentiments were not her personal realizations, but rather…a repetition of words she was hearing being spoken from out there somewhere.
Her body relinquished the struggle, as her exhausted form tried to absorb the huge amounts of oxygen infusing her body from her deep breathing.
She slowly opened her eyes.
The figure was gone.
There was only Grissom leaning over her, as he was weighing down her hands along her sides, as he continued speaking softly and soothingly, as his mind and heart were reeling at her outbursts, as his concern was showing in those blue depths as they swept over her, as he was reassuring her with his repeated phrases:
I will protect you, Sara…You can relax now…I am right here…You are safe, honey….
When he was reasonably assured she had returned to him, he let go of her hands and moved to sit next to her, his back against the headboard.
He pulled her nearly weightless form easily onto his lap, soothing her with kisses, and rubbing her back lightly in small circles.
"Bad dream," she finally offered after lengthy minutes of labored breathing.
"Horrifying nightmare," he countered, wanting her to know he would be here to listen to the details of the events that brought on the night terror.
"You know, I am a very good listener, honey…" he added, hoping she would have her defenses lowered enough to create a reachable moment.
"Thanks, Gil…" was her only response, hoping he would have his radar lowered enough to not push for any additional revelations at this moment.
When their heart rates returned to somewhat normal, he stood and lifted her off the bed.
As he carried her towards the master bath, she furrowed her brows as she looked toward the empty doorway.
Then her heart broke a bit as she glanced upwards.
Her nightmare had caused all of her two-winged guardians to seek refuge over the door. Perched on the thick decorative moulding, she counted eleven butterflies nervously fluttering over the entryway.
I frightened them…I frightened Gil…she sighed.
I am frightened too…I need him so…and I can lose all this … if he…
Sara moved her head farther into the comfort of his chest.
The door to the master bathroom was kicked close, slamming a bit loudly.
A lone, two-toned blue butterfly swiftly moved into position, taking up his post over that entrance.
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He had just helped her disrobe and was beginning to shed his own active wear when the blare of his cell phone permeated the air.
She smiled and said, "Didn't it ring before? Maybe you should check it. Might be important."
He continued to reach for the hem of his sweatshirt, outwardly ignoring the ringing summons and Sara's urging.
Inwardly, however…he wondered if Pavlov would have been better off using CSI's instead of dogs for his favorite salivating experiment. The results, while turning out the same, would have also been tabulated and submitted with evidentiary support.
She reached over forcefully and eyed him seriously. "Gilbert Grissom…answer your phone!"
She is so cute when she worries about me. "Yes, my dear," he bowed low in a courtly gesture which brought a smile to Sara's eyes, transforming her stern countenance into a suppressed grin.
"I'll just start without you," she said, moving towards the tub.
He eyed her before turning, realizing it had been too long since he had made love to her.
As he strode purposely out of the bedroom, he was already prioritizing his day.
Making love to Sara was at the top of his list.
He reached the phone as it rang again, and looked at the display.
SOFIA.
He glanced over his shoulder and depressed the ACCEPT button, making his way swiftly through the kitchen area. He opened the door to the den, closing it behind him as he answered in a low voice, "Grissom."
Sofia sighed inwardly at his masculine timbre. She decided to relate the information in her special "business provocative" voice.
Listening to the honeyed tones, he should have been writing down the information to the scene. Instead, he was distracted by his thoughts about Sofia.
"Listen, Sofia…uh…why don't you just get to the lab and wait for me…uh…we can ride out together. What do you say?"
Sofia was delighted beyond words. Her three-stage plan seemed to working out perfectly.
She believed her conniving had gotten her a promotion that by rights should have been Sara's job.
She had not spoken to Ecklie since the "incident" and still believed she helped keep Sara out of the lab for the next two weeks.
She believed that she was becoming Grissom's go-to girl, replacing the person widely regarded as holding that honor – one Sara Sidle.
Grissom, you can 'go to' see me anytime, Sofia gloated, primping herself in her cheval mirror before sauntering out the door.
Mustn't keep him waiting.
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He stood there with the phone in his hand for what seemed like ages.
He was missing Sara already.
How was he going to tell her he was called in?
He didn't want to go. But this was something he couldn't put off.
He trudged heavily through the townhouse until he stood outside the bathroom.
Gil quietly slid the door partially open, just staring at her.
She was neck high in water, having craned her neck slightly so she looked classically elegant.
Her eyes were closed, her relaxation aided by the soft whirr of the jets.
She was beautiful.
And he was leaving her…again.
He sighed softly, bringing her out of her restful state.
When she turned to him, she saw he was conflicted. A seasoned CSI, she knew their shared bath was now just a dream.
Attempting to put him at ease, she smiled evenly and said, "I will be fine."
"Sara," he started, but stammered as he always did around her when he couldn't find the words to relate his true feelings for her.
"I don't want you to be alone. Maybe…"
Maybe what? Come with me? That could ruin things with Sofia.
Stay at the lab? Have everyone gawking and whispering about you?
Maybe…what???
How did my life get so complicated?
She sat up painfully, worried about his obviously conflicted feelings.
"Gil, go! I will be fine! If I need anything I will just call Warrick. He has tonight off and-"
"NO!" Gil barked, his reaction confusing her.
She knitted her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
"I don't want…I would rather you called someone else…" He knew he was digging his own hole.
Sara was about to hand him another shovel.
"And what if I want Warrick to come over?" Sara Sidle was definitely not used to having to get permission to live her life as she saw fit.
He grimaced. He told himself she just wasn't understanding his need to … protect her.
I promise.
Not Warrick. Not this time.
Grissom just didn't want him anywhere near her right now.
Not when he was unsure how long this case would keep him in the field.
He was not used to these feelings of jealousy now surging out of control, screaming at him to lock her up in a tower to keep her safe until he could return to serve as her "protector".
He wanted to be the one she ran to when she needed to talk about her nightmares.
He wanted to be the only one she needed to make her feel…safe.
He knew he wasn't being rational.
He knew he could trust her.
He knew this situation was giving him a migraine.
Tired of waiting for a reply, Sara was also tired…too tired to argue.
"Forget it," she said hotly, closing her eyes and trying to regain her state of composure.
Her heart was now hurting as much as her head.
"Sara..." he tried calmly, but she was having none of it.
"Just go…if you're going…GO!" she shouted, the moisture appearing behind her closed eyelids.
He made a move towards her, but she angrily turned on her side so that her back was to him.
Gil gave in to her demands. He turned on his heel and pulled the door shut behind him, not in anger but more in an effort to keep the draft off her damp body.
Instead, under the force of his pent up emotions, the door slammed shut. Sara took that as an indication of his mood, the unexpected action making her fearful, as she had never really seen him that animated when he was angry.
Deep down, it opened a small fearful memory of other slammed doors. She became uneasy.
She wished they could be in their Better Place.
This place was starting to remind her too much of her childhood home.
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By the time he had reached the kitchen he was already regretting the entire exchange. He turned swiftly on his heels, retracing his steps.
When he got to the bedroom, twelve sets of angry antennae twitched in his direction from their overhead perches.
He placed his hand on the doorknob, but it didn't move.
She locked the door.
How am I going to make this better?
I need to talk to her.
She just needs some time to cool off.
I'll call her later, apologize, and we'll talk.
He placed a kiss on his palm and laid it softly on the door. Be safe, my love.
He left the bedroom, gathered his kit, and softly closed the front door as he exited.
Meanwhile, Sara continued to calm down, trying to think of all the rational reasons they had just had their first fight as a couple.
It was just a fight.
Couples fight all the time.
I heard make-up sex is really something.
This brought a smile to her face, quickly replaced by a sigh.
How am I going to make this better?
I need to talk to him.
He just needs some time to cool off.
I'll call him later, apologize, and we'll talk.
Unbeknownst to her, the door to the master bath had been closed so infrequently that time had weakened the old style lock. Gil's action had caused a loosened part of the mechanism to misfire, causing the knob to set itself in the lock position.
An antique, there was no key available.
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Catherine was stirring her coffee counterclockwise…a sure sign that she was fuming.
She had noticed Sofia waiting smugly near Grissom's office. When he first entered the building, she had moved towards him, greeting him in that sickeningly animated style that men usually found seductive.
To Catherine, that action made her head for the anti-nausea drops.
"This is not good, gentlemen," Catherine said thoughtfully as she tapped her teeth with the coffee stirrer.
Nick tried hard not to look in her direction. Remembering the meeting at Grissom's house, he recalled the supervisor's stern warning to keep their discussion between the three of them.
He wished Warrick was working tonight. He had a knack for keeping Catherine's thoughts occupied.
"Grissom is getting sucked in to her little web…and she is going to suck the life out of him and spit him out." she said with her own venom exposed.
Nick wanted to argue, but kept silent.
The scene unfolding in the corridor also got the attention of other eyes.
Dark eyes, disturbingly narrowed, stared as Sofia and Grissom left together towards their assignment.
"Well, well, well…I see that Sofia has managed to catch herself a big one. Looks like it is time for me to see about catching the minnow he has cast back into the sea."
Recalling that Sara was still on medical leave, the figure moved to lock his door and move towards the exit.
"Ready for some fun, my dear Sara?" sneered Ecklie as he approached his vehicle and set out towards Sara's apartment.
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Warrick had been stretched out on his couch for over an hour.
He kept replaying the events in his head.
Sara on the ground, injured.
Sara in the morgue, mouthing "I'm sorry."
Sara in the interrogation room, shielding him from their inquisition.
Sara smiling up at him as he renewed his promise to her.
Sara.
He knew nothing had changed.
She was still in danger from that degenerate Ecklie.
He recalled the night that started it all.
After shift, he had gone to the local haunt to grab a beer after a particularly upsetting case.
A vicious assault/murder of a young mother with two young children. Domestic abuse case.
He was not too surprised to find Sara there, obviously having had a few already.
She had worked the case with him, and although she was dogged in her determination to nail the husband, ultimately he had walked for lack of evidence.
The D.A. was considering it an active file, but for all intents and purposes they had done all they could and came up empty handed.
Grissom had told
them, "Sometimes they just get away."
Sara had stormed out of the lab, leaving a worried Grissom in her wake.
"Even then," Warrick chuckled to himself, "even then we should have seen the handwriting on the wall where those two were concerned."
Seated in a booth, he heard a man's charming tone inviting Sara to join him.
She looked tired, she looked overworked, she looked tipsy, she looked like someone in need of…companionship.
So it didn't surprise him when he watched her accept the offer.
Loosening up a bit, Warrick became engaged with some of the regulars, discussing odds and point spreads when he looked up. He became a little unnerved when he realized that charming tone had belonged to... Ecklie.
Warrick couldn't take his eyes off them. Ecklie was supporting an uncharacteristically wobbly-legged brunette.
'That isn't going to help, Sara,' he had thought to himself, wincing from the memories of many such hangovers.
He had glanced back casually over his shoulder one final time, when he noticed Sara's open hand pushing Ecklie's chest unsteadily.
They cleared the entryway out into the night air, as Warrick had returned to his conversation.
The picture stayed with him, though, replaying in the fuzzy awareness of his slightly tipsy state.
The TV was showing a repeat of the local news, giving air time to an interviewed woman who had been attacked early that evening.
Although the sound was almost off, he could tell the woman was demonstrating how he had approached her from behind, pinning her arms, and how she had tried to push him away with her open palms…
Warrick now was on high alert, sitting more erect, replaying Sara's exit scene as he did when contextualizing evidence at a scene.
He had developed an uneasy feeling.
Paying his tab, he almost rushed out of the bar, looking west and then east for any sign of Sara.
He decided to calm down, but his conscience insisted that he at least drive by Sara's apartment to make sure she got home alright. He found himself compelled to drive a bit faster than he normally would.
By the time he reached her building, he saw what looked like Ecklie and Sara just entering the building. For all outward appearances, she was fine. There was suddenly a lone light in Sara's window, but not movement could be detected from the street.
He decided he needed to see her, face to face, just to reassure himself that she was indeed safe.
Warrick sighed. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had not reached her when he did….
He stood quickly, not wanting to continue this walk down Memory Lane anymore.
He decided he needed to see Sara right now, face to face, just to reassure himself that she still was safe, settled in comfortably at the townhouse.
And with that, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.