Takes place early season 6. No spoilers. All mistakes are my own. I own nothing.
They had been together, intimately, for about 6 weeks. It had been a Sunday, and they hadn't spent a night apart since. Between working together, and their rotating nights and days off, Sara and Gil had found a good routine for their extracurricular activities.
Sara preferred to stay at Grissom's townhouse because it was, as she put it, 'roomier' and smelled like him. He also generally had more food, and kept a well stocked tea cupboard. Grissom warmly welcomed her each and every time she showed up at his door.
It was amazing how easily things fell into place for them. He wasn't one to welcome others into his personal space, nor his home, but with Sara it was different. Once it started, it was like it had always been. She was just there. She was a part of him. She had become a permanent fixture in his home, in his life. There was no awkward honeymoon phase of their courtship. Maybe it helped that they had known each other for years, and worked together for almost as long. But their newly blossomed intimate relationship just seemed to work, like finding the last two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
When they weren't working doubles, they would usually send each other simple texts at the end of a shift, to establish where they were going to meet and stay for the night. What they were going to have for dinner. Usually some kind of takeout, or something simple that Gil or Sara could whip together before they ended up passing out in bed together. They'd communicate if either needed to pick anything up on the way. Grissom loved staying at Sara's for the same reason she loved staying at his - but when push came to shove he did agree that it made more sense, logistically, for her to stay at his home more often than not. He had a garage that she could park in to avoid suspicious co workers from seeing her vehicle parked out front if they happened to drive by. He also tended to have more food in his fridge as Sara wasn't exactly known for her skills in the kitchen or remembering to eat, for that matter.
Sara loved Grissom's bed. It was this huge, luxurious king sized pillow top mattress with the softest sheets she thinks she's ever slept in. He told her he went out and bought all new sheet sets for his bed after their first time making love. He said he wanted her to feel as if she were sleeping in a cloud, and she did. She used to hate sleep, but now it was quiet possibly her favourite thing. Sleeping beside Gil was the most peaceful, intimate experience of her life. She felt safe, warm. Loved.
It was her evening off, and Gil had gone into the lab about an hour ago after a sleepy and slow, tender bout of lovemaking. He hopped in the shower afterwards, kissing her on the forehead, whispering for her to go back to sleep. Before he left he told her he started the coffee, because he had a headache. She reminded him to take his migraine pills with him, because she knew the case he was on was particularly straining for him. A young boy, found in a ditch out on Boulder highway. He had been molested and then tossed out of a car. The kid cases always made Grissom a basket case.
As Sara sat up in Grissom's bed and stretched, she glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 11:45 pm. He would likely be holed up in his office under a mound of paperwork by now, before heading to the break room to hand out assignments.
Trying to stick to her body clock, Sara got out of bed and showered, noticing Grissom's migraine medication still sitting on the bathroom counter. Rolling her eyes, she got cleaned up and then put on a fresh pair of Gil's boxers, and one of his old sweatshirts. She had clothes in a drawer here at his condo, but she much preferred wearing his, especially when she was here alone. It still amazed her that she was here in Gilbert Grissom's townhouse, alone, as if she had always been here.
Sara usually made herself a cup of coffee and something to eat, today it was an apple and a pop tart - something she had brought over to keep in Grissom's pantry, because he wouldn't have been caught dead with something so sugary and processed in his shopping cart. It was something she loved about him - his healthy eating and his obsession with organic produce, but sometimes a girl needs some sugar and food dyes. As much as he scolded her for it, he sure did like the taste of her lips after she ate a pop tart or some sugary yogurt. He had made that perfectly clear on a few occasions now. She crawled back into the bed to flip through the TV, or read. Grissom had such an extensive and impressive library, she figured she could read every single night she had off and never even make a dent into his collection.
The truth was, her nights off had become somewhat of a nuisance since her and Grissom started seeing each other. She usually found herself hoping she would be called in, just so she could keep herself busy, and be with him, near him. She asked, no begged, Gil before he left if she could just come in tonight, to which he firmly replied with a "no." She had already maxed out on overtime, and he said something along the lines of "besides, thinking about you sleeping in my bed while I'm at work is what keeps me going until I can come back home and join you." She smiled to herself.
Around 3am, she heard her phone buzz, hoping it was the lab calling her in. She was getting restless. But to her disappointment, she glanced down at her phone with a frown:
'Should have taken my pills with me.'
Sara glanced over to the bathroom sink where she saw his bottle, and sighed. If he was, in fact, getting a migraine... he needed to take them soon before it got unbearable. She had never seen it, but she heard Catherine once warn him he needed to keep his prescription with him at all times so he didn't blow chunks at a crime scene again. She grimaced at the idea. It was clearly before she had come to Vegas, but he must have been so embarrassed.
'You ok? I can bring them to you? I'm bored anyways..' she texted him back, not expecting an answer.
'No. I'm coming home to get them.'
Shocked at his reply, she got herself out of the bed, and went to the bathroom to collect his pills for him when he arrived. Sara headed towards the kitchen and decided to make him something to eat as well, since he likely hadn't eaten anything all night. She lovingly prepared a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, about the extent of her cooking abilities, but she knew the man couldn't resist a good old Sidle PB . She chuckled at the fact that he only kept unsweetened almond butter in his pantry. What was she now? Some kind of house wife, no, girlfriend? Making lunch for her man? She chuckled at the thought, but basked in it too.
Sipping her 3rd cup of coffee as she leaned on the kitchen island, she heard faint footsteps making their way to the front door about 10 minutes later.
Letting himself in, Gil looked disheveled, shaky and pale and sweaty.
"Oh my god, Gil!" Sara gasped as she set down her mug and made quick time to the front door, "Shit, Gil, sit down. Let me get you your pills, hold on babe."
He simply nodded and sat down on the couch that was right by the door. He looked, and felt like complete shit.
"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad before you left?" She asked him from the kitchen.
"It wasn't." He winced, as he pinched the bridge of his nose in pain.
"Here," she smiled sadly, kneeling down beside him and handing him two white pills and a glass of water. She watched as he reluctantly took a small sip of the water. "Can you eat? Your whole body is probably running on fumes which isn't helping your head..."
"M-mm.." he shook his head in protest as he laid his head back against the couch, the room was spinning, "I have to go back in - in a minute." He gulped, as a surge of nausea ran through him.
"Gil, babe," Sara asked apprehensively, "I know this case is important to you but you are in no condition to work."
He let out a deep moan and sat up in his seat, suddenly. He could feel his mouth go dry as the acid rose in his throat. As he stood up, his hands were clammy and his head spun. "I need the bathroom."
Sara nodded, a look of terror on her face as she watched him make it down the stairs and into the bathroom just off of the kitchen in record time. She saw him try to close the door with his foot, and he had just made it to the toilet on his knees before he let out an awful wrenching sound and emptied the contents of his stomach.
Sara, dumbstruck with fear and not knowing what to do, stood for a moment processing what had just happened. And then he wretched again bringing her out of her trance, with a wince.
"Shit." She whispered, defeatedly, to herself. She found his phone in his jacket and sent a text to Catherine:
Catherine I'm sorry, my migraine is making me sick. I'm not going to be back in tonight. Going to bed.
As she set the phone back down she heard him flush the toilet, before choking and vomiting again. Maybe it wasn't the migraine? Maybe he had a bug, or food poisoning instead? Could a headache really make him this sick? She thought to herself, but quickly realizing she would be just as sick if it were either of those things.. they had eaten the same things the last few days, and have been together, swapping plenty of bodily fluids, so any germs would be shared.
Making her way down to the kitchen she grabbed a hand towel from underneath the sink and wet it with cool water. As she approached the bathroom door that was still slightly opened, she knocked softly and opened it a crack more.
"Gil.." she said softly, smelling the sour air with a grimace, "Are you ok?"
"Hmph." He groaned, vomiting again.
"I'm coming in, Gil." She said loudly, taking a deep breath to settle her nerves. She had never seen this strong man so weak, and she knew it would be difficult for both of them.
"No, Sara, I-I-I'm fine, it's gross in here. You - just ah - go home for the night, dear... I'll be fine. This has happened a few times before. I'm ok." he mumbled as she entered the brightly lit bathroom.
"This is certainly not the grossest thing I've ever encountered, Gilbert." She replied half heartedly, and sighed, "And you're not fine. Let's start with this.. this isn't helping at all." She said as she turned off the bathroom light, and then kneeled down beside him and rubbed his back.
"Here," she whispered as she placed the cool cloth on the back of his neck.
He sighed in a brief moment of comfort from the cloth and gave her a sad, weak smile, his puffy eyes still closed. Again though, his body began to shake and he lurched forward again to vomit - clearly there was nothing left in his stomach but bile. He winced at the pain and embarrassment as he leaned his head on his fist against the toilet bowl. "I'm sorry." He muttered.
"Don't be." Sara smiled in reply as she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair gently, "Do you think you can move to the bed? I can bring a bowl if you think there's anything left in you."
"There's nothing left. I think," he swallowed dryly, "I think that was it." He grimaced in disgust as he gagged, but nothing came up. He flushed the toilet again.
"Ok. Let's get you to the bed my love."
"I have to go back in..." her use of the 'L' word seemed to go unnoticed as he shook his head and rubbed his eyes.
"I've already taken care of it. I sent Catherine a text from your phone.. you can work tomorrow." Sara whispered as she placed a soft kiss on his temple, and then ran the wet cloth over his forehead. "Come on. Let's go."
Nodding in defeat, Grissom stood up shakily. Sara took his hand and led him gingerly to the bed, and unbuttoned his offensive shirt and removed it for him before he laid himself down with a deep sigh.
She quickly turned off the TV and the lights and ran out to the kitchen to even turn off the stove light, grabbing his pills and water while she was at it.
"I'll leave two pills and some water on your bedside for when you think you can swallow them." She whispered as she returned to the room, taking in the sight of her lover in the moonlight.
He was pale. His dark grey curls were stuck to his forehead. His eyes were closed tightly, with his fingers pinching his nose.
"Can I - will it bother you if I lay down beside you?" She whispered as she sat down on the bed, and placed the cloth on his forehead.
"Sara, you should go. This is - you don't need this. I stink like vomit and sweat and I'm painfully pathetic right now. You don't need to waste your evening off like this." He said slowly, still not opening his eyes to meet her concerned gaze.
"I've smelled worse. It's not a waste, Gil." Sara spoke softly as she kissed the knuckles on his free hand, "Id like to stay, and make sure you're ok. There's nowhere else I'd be anyways."
"Mm." He moaned in defeat, and she could tell pain and exhaustion were over taking him.
"What do you need, my love?" She asked quietly, the endearment slipping from her lips accidentally a second time. They had yet to confess love to one another.
"Sleep." He sighed.
"Ok. Then let's sleep." Sara nodded as she pulled the blanket up over top of both of them, and snuggled into his bare chest. He was cool and clammy to the touch.
Sara lay awake beside him for almost two hours, caressing his heart and arms and hair, listening to his restful breathing, replaying what had just transpired in shock. Around 5:15 she began to see the faint hint of the sun rising, and she looked back to her sleeping lover with sadness. She knew Gil got migraines. She had never seen him this bad. Would he be ok? He really needed to take his pills. The light from the sun coming up would hurt his head.
She was torn between letting him continue to sleep, she knew he needed sleep.. or waking him to encourage him to have some water and take his pain medication. Eventually the scientist in her won out.
"Gil," she whispered gently, as she placed a hand on his face, "Gil, you should take your pills before the sun comes up."
Gil grunted in return as he came out of his sleep, nodding.
"Let me get them for you and then you can go back to sleep. They will help, baby." She kissed his temple again before she swiftly reached over him for the glass. "Here, have a little sip. Not too much so you can keep it down."
Gil slowly inclined himself off of the pillow to take his pills, and took a small sip of the lukewarm water. His dry mouth and lips thanked him.
"There you go." She nodded, holding the bottom of the glass to ensure he didn't drop it as if she were a school teacher commending a kindergarten, "Now lay back down and get some rest."
"Thankyou, Sara." Grissom muttered with the smallest hint of a shaky smile.
Sara didn't reply, she just kissed his shoulder before she returned his glass to the table and snuggled back into the crook of his shoulder. Exhaustion began to over take her as she heard Grissom's breathing steady in slumber once again. Closing her eyes, she breathed him in. For someone who had puked his guts a few hours before, for the most part he still managed to smell like his normal, clean and sexy self. Wrapping her arm around him she gave him a quick squeeze.
"I love you." She whispered into his chest, before she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Around 9:30am, Sara woke up from a dream with a jolt, shocked to feel the other side of the bed cold and empty.
She sat up, and looked around the room, the glass of water was gone and the bottle of pills was missing. She heard the faint hum of the laundry machine from the hallway, and heard the rush of the shower from the ensuite. She made a mental note to make sure she discreetly cleaned the toilet in the second bathroom for him later in the day.
Smiling sadly, she crawled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom and was met with a wall of hot steam as she entered, the adjustable lights set to a dim setting.
"Gil?" She asked hesitantly, as she poked her head around the curtain. She saw her lover standing slumped over, leaning against the cool tiled shower wall with water cascading around him. "Oh, Gil."
Making a decision, she undressed herself and stepped into the hot water, wrapping her arms around him. He smelled of soap.
"I'm sorry Sara." He sighed.
"For what? For being sick?" She shook her head as she rubbed his back tenderly.
With a nod he replied, "For being sick around you. I'm a helpless old man."
"It's a migraine Gil, it has nothing to do with age. You're not helpless, and you know as well as I do that when pain gets that bad it can surrender you to your knees. Even the strongest and most stubborn of men. It's not your fault and I'm not grossed out, Gil. I'm a scientist. I deal with dead bodies and decomps and all kinds of scents and sights. It's just puke." She smiled, lifting his chin to make eye contact.
It was the first time he has really looked at her since he came home. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but blue as ever.
"Do they get this bad very often?" She smiled sadly, as the water dripped down the back of her head.
"No," he shook his head as he brought a hand to her waist, "Maybe once, sometimes twice a year."
Nodding, Sara replied, "You scared me."
"I'm sorry." He sighed.
"I'm just glad you seem to be ok now. Have you had any more water?" Sara probed in a motherly way.
"Not yet." Gil shook his head, as he brought Sara's naked and wet body closer to his for an embrace, "Thankyou for staying."
"Why wouldn't I?" She replied tenderly as she kissed his wet collarbone, "I told you, a little vomit doesn't spook me. You do remember you're involved with blood and guts Sara Sidle, right? I'm pretty sure you've made me process garbage dumps more offensive."
"I dated this girl in college once, Christine Morrow, she was a psychology major. She ah, was sleeping over in my dorm when a particularly bad migraine hit, and I was sick. She ran out and never called me back. Looked as if she had witnessed an exorcism or something. She said she was fascinated with bodies and bugs and science and forensics and gross stuff, but I guess she was putting on a front." He chuckled slowly, so as not to make his head worse.
"Probably just trying to suck up to you to get in your pants. I can imagine 20 year old Gilbert Grissom was incredibly fuckable. 20 year old me would have jumped your bones if we were at the same school." Sara laughed.
"You were 4, at the time, Sara." He warned, "And I definitely wasn't. I had my head in a book most of the time, and spent my free time dissecting animals and collecting bugs," he glared at her in a playful way, "When I wasn't puking my guts out from migraines. I had a lot of them my second year on campus."
"Christine didn't know what she was giving up!" Sara laughed along with him, "Where you lack in the vomit and bug department, you make up for in the intelligence and romance and bedroom activities department."
Gil simply smiled and squeezer her. "Thank you for turning off the lights and the cloth and waking me for my pills. It helped a lot."
"My pleasure Gilbert." She whispered sensually, "Are you ready to get dried off and come back to bed with me?"
"Mm." Gil nodded as he kissed her forehead, "But I think I should try and eat something and drink some more water first."
"You finish up in here, I'll make some tea and toast." Sara kissed him on the cheek, avoiding his mouth, before she hopped out and quickly dried off before wrapping herself in her robe.
Headed to the kitchen she started the kettle to make some honey ginger tea, another one of her additions to his pantry, it was her personal favourite whenever she was feelings nauseated or anxious.. and some buttered sourdough toast. She heard the water stop, and heard his electric toothbrush. Smiling, Sara plated two pieces of toast and two cups of tea and made her way back to the bedroom.
"Is your mouth less offensive now?" She joked as Gil came padding into the bedroom wearing a fresh set of boxers.
"Mhm." He nodded, still pale and still clearly exhausted.
"Here, sit down." She gestured for him to resume his comfortable position in his bed, propped up with some pillows. "Breakfast of champions."
Gil chuckled at her wit, and took a tender sip from his tea. "This is good."
"I was sick all the time as a little kid too, nerves I think." Sara shrugged, "My mom would always make me plain ginger tea with some honey to calm my stomach."
"And the toast?" He joked.
"Ah. Now that's a real Sidle delicacy. A regular Friday night supper in my home growing up. Sometimes my brother felt adventurous and would even put some jam or beans on his." She laughed sarcastically as she took a bite of her toast, "My mom would usually be too tired to cook, and my dad would either be out or passed out, so toast was my go to dinner. I'm pretty sure I've mastered the art perfectly. Perfect crunchy to soft ratio."
Gil laughed as he took a bite of the offering, and nodded in agreement, teasing her, "You are a skilled woman. You never cease to amaze me."
They both laughed and smiled and sat in comfortable silence on the bed while they finished their toast and tea. When he was finished Sara got up, and brought their dirty plates and cups to the kitchen sink, and returned with a glass of cold water.
"Are you tired? Can you sleep more?" She asked him tenderly as she crawled back in, and placed a light kiss on his clean lips.
"Not really. I probably should, but I'm stuck with this image of a hot 20 year old Sara Sidle." He grinned as he laid back with a sigh and closed his eyes.
"Well, you knew needy, attention seeking 26 year old me." She grinned with pride, reminding him of their time in San Fransisco.
"I did." He nodded with a proud smile that mirrored hers, eyes still closed. "You made me feel like a dirty old man, the way you looked at me. You were a tease. You kept calling me Dr Grissom and 'Sir' in this long, drawn out way.."
"You aren't one to talk! Calling me 'Miss Sidle' every chance you got! And you weren't a dirty old man," she laughed as she caressed his thigh with her hand, "You were what, 41? I was super into you."
"The feeling was mutual." He sighed, feeling his body's response to her touch, but knowing he was still treading on thin ice with his head.
"So why didn't you act on it? I was ready and willing, I basically had my legs open that whole week. I didn't think I could have been more obvious unless I had actually asked you to come to bed with me." She chuckled as she whispered into his ear before kissing his neck. She knew it wouldn't progress to sex, he was still fragile, but she loved to tease him.
"Because you were 26 and I was almost 42." He opened his eyes and glanced over, "And because you had a boyfriend."
"Who, Joey?" She let out a deep throaty laugh, "Ah, he wasn't my boyfriend. More of a friend with benefits."
"Mm." Grissom nodded, "Besides, I was leaving. I don't do one night stands."
"I'm pretty sure if we had have head sex that night I would have followed you back to Vegas like a lost puppy." She laughed, "I'm certain you would have blown my mind and I would have fallen in love with you on the spot. You wouldn't have been able to get rid of me. I guess I still did anyways though, didn't I."
"Maybe." He nodded in agreement, "But then we never could have worked together."
"True." Sara replied as she leaned up to kiss him. "I still think it would have been mind blowing sex though."
"It would have." Grissom agreed as he rolled over to face her, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "But it would have sloppy, lustful and rushed sex. I think our real first time was perfect."
"It was." Sara smiled, as tears began to brim in her eyes, recalling their slow and emotional coupling a few weeks ago. She cried afterwards and his voice wavered with emotion. He kissed every inch of her with passion and care. "You were very tender."
"You deserve nothing less, my dear." He whispered as his body began to succumb to exhaustion, his headache all but gone. "Sara?"
"Mhm." She smiled as she watched him breathe deeply beside her, he took in a deep and shaky breath. For a moment she worried he was going to bring the toast and tea back up.
"I love you too." He finally whispered, opening his eyes to meet her gaze.
Her body's stiffened beside his, and her eyes widened, "You heard me?"
He nodded, a small smile crossing his face.
"Oh." She whispered, "Well, I do, you know. Love you."
"I know." Gil sighed, "I don't know why you do."
"I love everything about you." She began, apprehensively. "Your voice, your mind, your eyes, your scent, your warmth, your quirks and oddities. The way you look at me and touch me. The way you get so consumed in whatever you're focused on. Even your bugs, as long as you don't make me feed them."
He laughed, "I won't make you feed them."
"I even love you when you're puking your guts out." She teased.
"Sara," he warned with a grimace, "I don't need to be reminded of that."
"Well it's true." Sara leaned up seriously on her elbow, and looked down at him, "I'm not much of the nurturing type, but I don't want you to have to go through another migraine like this without me by your side with a cool cloth and ginger tea."
"We'll see... it wasn't my finest moment.." Grissom questioned.
"And that's what I love. I love that only I get to see these vulnerable moments. Whether you're reduced to whimpers and moans because of mind blowing sex or because of mind blowing pain.." she giggled, "I like being able to know you. It's an honour to get to love you and care for you through the good and the bad."
"How do you do that?" Gil sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Do what?"
"Formulate your feelings into words, and just say them, and then stir up my insides like that." He groaned, frustration overtaking him, as he pressed his warm body into hers. "There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know how. It took me seven years to tell you I love you, let alone expand on it."
She laughed and kissed him tenderly, reassuring him of her feelings.
"It's ok." she whispered against his lips, "I already know. Besides, you've always been better at teaching through demonstration.. and you've demonstrated how you feel about me many times."
"But I want to tell you." He sighed, "I will work on it."
"I know." She kissed him softly as she gently stroked his hardened manhood, "Now, Dr Grissom. I think you need to go to sleep before this conversation goes south and we make your head worse again."
"As you wish, Miss Sidle." He grinned as he took her exploring hand in his and brought it up to his lips to kiss it before settling their entwined fingers on his chest.
END.