DISCLAIMER:  No copyright violation intended. Characters = not mine. *pout!*

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

"You're not going anywhere, until you've had something to eat." His tone offered no room for argument. He was surprised by his own boldness and decided not to push his luck, as he turned around and busied himself in the kitchen.

She stood on the spot uncertainly. He hadn't told her to take off the bath robe. Soundlessly, she made her way to the counter and slid on top of one of the tall chairs. As far as she was concerned, she was just going to sit here, dressed in his robe, and bask in his glow. 'Look, but don't touch.' He never failed to bring out a warm longing inside her, and as she diverted all of her attention to his skilful hands, she wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him.

"Do you like muesli?" he asked, needing to reassure himself. One can never be too careful of what she might like.

"Yeah, sounds good," she replied. So far he had done a good job of avoiding her gaze entirely. She remembered a few weeks ago she had asked him to breakfast and he brushed her off with a pathetic excuse that he had paperwork. When he softly placed the warm bowl in front of her, their eyes met and held for the longest time. He had to physically pull himself away from her deep brown gaze. She was always so dangerous. Altogether far too tempting for him.

"Thanks," she said as he joined her with his own dinner of the same muesli. It got the planned reaction as their eyes locked once more. How long was he going to keep this up?

They ate in silence. She felt an odd sense of comfort at having his company. At the same time, they both felt the tension between them like a taut string, about to snap. She realised she didn't have an appetite after all and left the bowl half empty. They both stared into space, before she got up and his head turned sharply. She wondered if he would read her a lecture on why she should eat more, but he remained silent.

"I better get home now," she said, trying to disguise the sadness.

"You don't have to go…"

If only he wasn't simply being polite.

"You're tired. Better go to bed, Grissom," she said flatly, before going to his bedroom to change into her day clothes. When the robe fell from her shoulders, she felt herself shiver. She knew there was no going back now, as she looked longingly onto the rumpled sheets and her mind produced a mental image of him there, like a cruel joke. Her own garments failed to give her the comfort she sought. Looking back at the bed, she made an attempt to straighten the sheets out a little.

"Grissom," she said quietly, "thanks" She looked long into his eyes, meaning the single word of gratitude. Even if he didn't have any feelings for her, he still somehow managed to create the impression that somebody cared. Even if it was all in her head. She looked down, taking his silence as an answer, before heading for the door. With a definite 'click', she locked herself outside his domain and regretfully made her way towards her car.

How could the man not realise how happy he could make them both, if he just gave her a chance? She shook her head. He probably couldn't wait to get rid of her. It wasn't his fault she chose to fall in love with him all those years ago. If only he didn't lead her on… Her mind drifted back to how Grissom had looked at her when he found out about Hank. She could almost see pain in his eyes. She must have imagined it. May be there really were no signs.

Only when she exited his building did she kick herself for forgetting to ask him about the surgery. How could she forget about something so important? She wanted to kick herself.

* * *

Grissom's eyes followed her car until it disappeared from his sight and only then did he lean back into the couch and rub his hands over his tired eyes. Why didn't he say something? He kept mentally pushing himself to talk, but his body would not comply. He lived alone for most of his life. He almost couldn't feel the loneliness anymore. Almost. Her presence erased everything he ever tried to believe and left him craving for even a minute more.

Sighing, he got up and in a few moments fell into bed, hoping sleep would offer him some comfort. Her scent still lingered all around him. He smiled sadly at how easily she managed to unleash his dormant emotions. After a few laborious minutes of trying to change the subject of his thoughts, he gave up and surrendered to his memories of Sara. She had always been too perfect to resist. He could never live up to that perfection and before soon everything could be over. Sara ran deep. Loosing her was not an option. At that moment he realised once again how much he wished he had invited her to stay with him. At that moment, he knew that everything had changed – he couldn't keep this unresolved. Whatever a resolution might bring.

On the other side of town Sara hugged a pillow to herself, wishing it were a warm body beside her.

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More soon – JM:)