DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone – characters are property of creators.

S E P I A

By Jane Moss

What had he done? Why had he fooled himself into thinking this was just a casual meeting? A few seconds of deliberation were not sufficient for such a commitment. If he backed out, the situation could only deteriorate. He'd pushed her away once when she asked to meet. Was this a second chance? Did his automatic answer encourage to break the professional distance he worked so hard to achieve? He let out a heavy breath and dropped his glasses on the table. Everything revolved around 'why'.

Upon walking into his office just before the end of his shift, Grissom found a note, quickly written. "Grissom, I'm going home early (only by an hour). I still want to meet. Sara" That was simple enough. He thought back to the beginning. She seemed so enthusiastic about coming to Las Vegas, but slowly that light grew dimmer inside her and he inwardly feared that it might soon be extinguished. The attempted resignation, the plant, the request for dinner. It suddenly hit him and he froze where he stood. Sara came here because of him. She had stayed here because of him. How could he not pick up the evidence in plain sight before? What kind of CSI was he anyway?

Back to why. Why did he always hurt her so? That was a question which lingered in his mind longer than all the others. He continued to do something wrong. The clear image of her raw pain just barely concealed still lingered in his mind, from so long ago when he refused her invitation to dinner. She must have been upset. He never had enough time to consider things properly. He could do nothing to change his reply.

Grissom grabbed his light coat and walked out without a word. A thick grey blanket covered the sky in all four directions as far as he could see. The clouds looked dense enough to descend upon him at any moment. Even the usual breeze seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. The tension was driving him crazy. Grissom found it impossible to think of anything but Sara. She was always a little different. Her gaze lingered longer. Sometimes he could have sworn she was looking at him, while he was occupied with something else. His mind, of course, did have a habit of jumping to unnecessary assumptions.

By the time his car turned onto her street, it was pouring down with rain. He dreaded meeting the heavy drops. The morning was darkening even more. He couldn't balance the urge to run for cover from the cold hard drops and hurrying into a situation he was not ready for. He needed more time. The thought of returning to his car came and went. Grissom settled on walking at a steady pace, even though his clothing became soaked as the rain hit his clothing repeatedly, the cold wetness seeping through to his skin. What would she say once she opened the door? "Um… come in" "Thank you" It could never be so easy.

Suddenly he found himself standing in front of her wooden door. Knock on it. He looked back out into the rain and wondered if it was too late to turn back. The door opened. He must have knocked. They stood and looked at each other, neither turning away. Suddenly Grissom became very aware of standing completely soaked in her doorway. It was always so awkward.

Suddenly, a thunderclap snapped them out of the trance. Their bodies shook in instinctual surprise and Sara intended a laugh to diffuse the heavy air between them but it died in her throat. She needed an answer from him. Yes or no. That simple.

"Do you…. want to come in?"

That wouldn't be appropriate. It was her private space. Employer, employee. He was wet. He was cold. He couldn't let himself get any closer than her doorframe. Slight panic flickered in his eyes and she saw his reply before he vocalised it.

"No," he said simply, but she noted he did not manage to feign indifference this time.

"Oh," she didn't attempt to mask her disappointment either. Here she was thinking that may be the hiding would soon be over. He wouldn't meet her eyes now and wouldn't turn around and leave. Why did it have to be this man? It was always so much harder. She looked away.

"Sara," he stared down at his shoes before composing himself and looking up to finally meet her eyes, "I…" She should be patient. She should wait as long as he needed. She knew she should give him a chance. "Whenever I do or say anything to you, I get the distinct feeling I'm doing something wrong… Now, I… I don't know… how to… I don't know what to do about this…" Sara simply nodded. He wasn't implying it was her fault. He was willing to talk. That was a start.

"Grissom, come in," It wasn't a request. If he refused her now it would be only because he didn't want her. She could read his indecision. That didn't stop her from luring him inside. The rain or a warm apartment? How ridiculous was his choice?

He stepped inside and she slid the door closed almost soundlessly behind him, as if to prevent him from rethinking his action. Uneasiness hung in the air as he once again noted he was making her carpet wet. Rainwater dripped from his jacket. Why did it have to rain this day? When he looked around the hallway, the whole place practically shouted her name and he could pick up her unique scent all around him.

"You're soaked," she pointed out the obvious; "let me get you some towels before you catch your death. Take your jacket off."

He complied. "I don't have a change of clothes with me…" she now recognised his shirt and knew he'd come straight from work. "…may be I should…"

She chuckled at that before he had time to finish his sentence. "You're not gonna escape from here that easy!" They shared a brief smile before the seriousness overtook again. "Your shirt is not too wet. I bet we could get you dried off in no time." Suddenly he thought about how much he would have liked to get out of the wet pants and relax in the comfort of his own home. She wasn't going to let him go though. She'd made that pretty clear.

He stopped her hands as she was taking off his jacket. "Sara, lets go over to my place"

May be it was her curiosity that lured her out of her comfort zone. "Okay"

The drive to his place was slow ad uneventful. Only a few words exchanged. The rain was now a light drizzle against the windshield. Sara's eyes followed the patterns of the tiny droplets as they got pushed out by the wind. She did not recognise the dark building they stopped next to, and could only assume it to be his residence, since he had never invited her to his home before. She wondered what it would change.

They ran through the light rain up to his door, which surprisingly lifted her mood proportionally. May be it was because for the first time in a long time, she was not alone. They entered his home.

"Leave the lights off, if you don't mind" Grissom complied with her request and let the grey sky provide the only light source in the rooms, thus retaining the unusual atmosphere. For Sara, being on the other side of the glass, meant feeling warmer than with a 60W lamp. Grissom must have gone to change, she thought; as she sat down on the sofa next to the window and let herself relax her head back. It has been a tiring shift. It was so easy to escape into the rhythmic, drumming of the raindrops. It was almost hypnotic. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that the rain was getting louder again and she wished it were completely dark. She missed sleeping in complete darkness.

Thunderclap roared her awake and her eyes snapped open. For a moment her surroundings seemed alien, but then she remembered. Where was Grissom? How long was she asleep? Sara felt a warm blanket over her as she moved to get up. The curtains were drawn and left most of the room in darkness.

She saw him move slowly from the shadows until he sat softly on the other edge of the sofa. There was concern on his face, but other than that he appeared to be much more relaxed than before.

"Sara… are you alright?" he moved closer. Just a bit. His voice was soft.

"I… think so"

"Did you have a bad dream?" the crease on his forehead did not disappear.

"I don't remember if I did," she paused for a minute to look at him, "How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours. I considered putting you on the bed but I didn't want to wake you."

She shivered before she realised she was cold. With just a moment's hesitation, he put his arm around her and lifted the blanket to her chin. He was so warm. He held her so closely now. It was tempting to drift off in his arms. She forced herself to stay awake.

"We still have to talk," her voice didn't sound very strong.

"Shh…" his voice was quiet and close to her ear, "we don't have to do anything right now" She relaxed unwillingly. Where was this side of Gil Grissom before? She felt so very tired. She tried to hold back a yawn but it overpowered her. Then there was the distant sensation of being lifted up and carried away.

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So what do you think? Please review! Sorry it took me so long to write the next chapter - a minor writers block, you see! Thanks again for all the kind reviews. JM