Chapter 50
The month of October slowly drifted by and life proceeded as normal – on the surface. Grissom and Sara never discussed their upcoming trip. It was planned via fax, which was oddly appropriate seeing how they were not the most verbal of couples. It started out with Sara sending him a copy of her ticket and their itinerary. After confirming that he had received the fax, she expected the correspondence to end.
It didn't.
Two days later, she heard the whir of the machine early in the morning as she checked e-mail in her home office. A piece of paper eased out of her fax, confusing her at first until she recognized the handwriting scribbled across the sheet: Sara, we never discussed the room situation. I booked a suite of my own because I do not want you to feel any pressure from my end.
Without a moment's pause, Sara placed the note down on her desk and pulled a clean sheet of paper from her printer. She quickly penned a short response, saying the message under her breath as she wrote it out across the white surface. "Unbook it. There's no pressure. If you want to back out now, say so."
She didn't bother signing her name. The paper was quickly loaded into the fax machine and Sara loomed over as her message was scanned and sent. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, not so much angry as she was frustrated. A year ago, six months ago, ten days ago the note would've sent her into a frenzy of self-doubt, her first thought being that he didn't find her attractive, that he didn't want to be with her.
But he wanted her. She saw it in his eyes, felt it as he had grabbed the belt of her robe and pulled her a fraction of an inch closer. But when it came to Grissom, Sara had learned, with desire came fear. She recalled the death of Debbie Marlin and Grissom's defeated confession of his feelings for her to Debbie's murderer. He had recognized that she could make him happy, but he was terrified of the risk involved.
This trip was no different.
It was as if he saw happiness as a trap, a ruse to lure him into something sinister. Perhaps the scientist in him was always looking for the other side of the story, the flipside of the coin. She knew she should've been insulted by the very notion of that, but it was real life. Nothing was always good or always bad. If he needed to feel his way around their relationship, so be it. Sara had been patient for so long without him that working things out slowly after they got together didn't seem like such a daunting task. And considering her situation as a new single mother, taking things slow didn't seem like such a bad idea.
The fax machine began to hum again and Sara blinked widely as she watched paper slide out.
Sara –
I don't want to back out of anything. I needed to let you know that you have a choice. I've made no secret of my feelings for you, but I never wanted you to feel obligated. Consider the suite unbooked.
When he came over for dinner that night, she had expected some sort of continuation of their fax-aided discussion, but Grissom didn't utter a word and neither did Sara. Instead they both seemed to concentrate all of their energy on Brenda. They talked about her upcoming school projects, went over the state capitals for her social studies quiz, and debated the merits of dogs versus cats as pets. While the subjects did not vary in terms of what was always discussed among the three at the dinner table, what differed was the fact that Grissom and Sara barely addressed each other. All of the focus was on Brenda. Anyone observing might have guessed the two adults were a married couple on the verge of divorce, spending all of their time on the child instead of turning the attention to their frayed union.
Still, he kissed her goodnight again. It was another small peck, but this time Sara was prepared for it and held on for a second or two longer, humming a bit.
Life continued as such, with Grissom and Sara faxing cautiously flirtatious notes to each other at the crack of dawn before ignoring one another throughout dinner. They always ended the night with a kiss, though.
Bring a jacket just in case it's cold in Houston, Grissom had written her one morning. I learned my lesson working a case in San Antonio ten years ago. It can get chilly at night.
She smiled before quickly writing her response: I don't plan on spending my nights outside. Sara paused for a moment and considered not faxing the playful comeback. There was always the chance that he'd freeze up and things would once again ooze awkwardness. She sighed and loaded the paper into the machine, curious if he'd answer.
And he did.
In that case, pack very light.
Sara had to smile. She went through the remainder of her day light as a feather. The evening progressed as usual, with Brenda commanding all of their attention, but when she was tucked away into bed and it was time to say goodbye to Grissom, Sara followed him outside, closing the front door behind her.
"Are you all packed?"
Grissom cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah."
"So am I. I actually have been for a week and a half." She grinned shyly, hoping her admission didn't make her seem too eager.
"I, um…I figured I'd try to get some more of my book done while you were at the conference, so I'll be bringing my laptop."
Sara nodded. "Good idea."
"Yeah."
Neither seemed willing to fully address the elephant in the room: sex. No matter how they tried to class it up with talk of conferences and writing, the main attraction was the fact that, at some point on their trip, they'd be taking off all of their clothes.
"The sitter is all set to take care of Brenda for the next couple of days. I'm going to drive her to school tomorrow morning instead of letting her go on the bus, though," Sara told him. "It's the last time I'll be seeing her for two days. It's weird."
"It must be. You both are so close," Grissom remarked.
"So…how do you want to work this? Should we just meet at the airport? Do you want to take a cab together?"
He wiped his palms on his hips. "I don't know. Do you want me to drive here and then we can take the cab together?"
"Your car would be in the driveway, though."
"Yeah, so?"
"Brenda will see it," Sara explained.
"Oh. Right. Brenda. I forgot." Grissom swallowed and stared at the front door, deep in thought. "Well, the plane leaves at noon so how about I pick you up at eight-thirty and we take a cab from my place?"
She considered it for a moment. "Sounds good. I'll be ready."
"Good," he nodded. "All right. Bye." Grissom leaned in to kiss her as was their habit, and she met him, tilting her head, always granting him more access to take though he never seemed to go any further than a gentle press of the lips.
He pulled back and started to bid her goodnight when she held him closer, pressing her body up against his in their first official hug. Her mouth found his ear and she closed her eyes, whispering, "Don't think this thing to death, all right? Just let it be." Sara kissed his temple and then his lips once more before retreating to her house.
Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard his voice rasp out what sounded like a plea. "Sara, I don't want to disappoint you."
She turned around. "You won't."
"You don't know that."
Sighing, she let go of the handle. "Grissom, I don't want to disappoint you, either. So we're going to just have to trust each other with this. All I want is for you to try."
"I am trying."
"I know," she smiled tiredly. "And it's working. I'll see you tomorrow at eight-thirty. Goodnight, Grissom."
"Goodnight, Sara."
TBC…
