Chapter 32

Sara choked. "Budding spider woman, Grissom? You sure Fluffy's venom hasn't gone to your head?"

He grimaced comically. "Oh shush. It sounded funnier in my head. Now . . . sleep." Sara was looking rather uncomfortable. He hoped she didn't feel like he was forcing her to stay with him. "If you'd rather sleep at your own home, Sara, I'd understand. I mean, I don't want you to feel like you have to stay here."

"No, it's not that. I just feel kinda . . . awkward. Last time I slept with you I didn't know it – much less stressful, let me tell you!" Shrugging, she sighed. "But I'll admit, it felt nice waking up next to someone else. I just, um . . ." She stopped abruptly, biting her lip. She couldn't very well announce to Grissom that she wanted to clear up what they were going to DO in the bed before they got in it!

"Spit it out, Sara. I won't bite, promise."

She could definitely see how signing something like this might work better than trying to say it. She was pretty sure, though, that the reference book under her arm couldn't tell her how to say, "I don't want to do anything but sleep," in a more polite way.

"Nothing, Grissom. Don't worry about it, I was just thinking to myself." She could handle this. Sara had long ago mastered the art of saying "no I won't have sex with you" without speaking a word, and though she hoped she wouldn't have to use it on Grissom, she was glad she had its added layer of protection.

Grissom looked suspicious, but let it pass. "Ok, Sara." Now it was his turn to look embarrassed. "Did you, uh, need to borrow something to sleep in? You're welcome to one of my shirts." That sounded bad. He knew it sounded bad. For the hundredth time since he'd woken up next to Sara he wished that he knew how to be smooth with women.

Sara nodded. "Yeah, that'd be, um, good." She smiled at him tentatively. "As long as you have one long enough to actually cover me."

Grissom gulped, reminded of the sight of her rolling out of her bed in a "physicists do it with force" sleep-shirt. "No problem." He grabbed one of his undershirts from the drawer and passed it to her, watching as Sara retreated to the bathroom to change. Then it occurred to him: what was HE going to sleep in? Grissom usually slept in his boxer shorts – would that bother Sara? It was a moot point, he decided a few moments later, because he had nothing else more modest to sleep in unless he went to bed fully clothed.

When Sara came out of the bathroom, Grissom was already in his bed, fighting the urge to hide his head under the covers. Sara was right; this had been much easier when one of them wasn't conscious. He managed a weak smile, which she answered with an equally weak one as he held back a corner of the covers for her.

Sara slipped in, lying stiffly on the edge of the bed, as far from Grissom as possible. Chewing on her lip, she tried to relax. Five minutes later she admitted to herself that it wasn't working. Why was she so uncomfortable? This was Grissom; she'd already slept with him two days running, albeit once unknowingly. He was probably asleep, not uncomfortable in the least. What was wrong with her?

Turning onto her right side she whispered, "Grissom? You awake?"

He raised his head. "I'm awake, Sara. Why?"

"I, um . . . I know this sounds silly, but I'm so used to sleeping close to you now that it feels weird to not be sleeping that way. Could you, um . . . could I . . ."  She stopped, knowing she sounded stupid..

Grissom smiled into the pillow. He had been feeling the same way, but he was glad Sara had been the one to say it out loud. He figured he'd give her a break now. "Come here and keep me warm, Sara."

She scooted toward him, letting out a small sigh as Grissom wrapped his arms around her. One the edge of sleep, she leaned up, kissed his shoulder, and whispered, "Thanks."