Summary: After viewing a horrific accident, Sara makes some hard decisions about her life. Obviously, a Sara-centered story, but with lots of friendship and a little bit of G/S at the end.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 15 - That short, potential stir
A loud burst of laughter woke Sara up. The noise was too jarring a sound to fit in with her dream. It started as a memory out of her childhood, a day spent on the beach. Her parents walking down the beach, staying just on the edge of the waves, watching Sara hunting for seashells. Her older brother trying to impress the local girls. The warmth from the sun and from her family chasing away the chill coming off the water. The day ended as it usually did, with the family gathered around a driftwood fire, settling down for a picnic dinner.
But as the sun set, the temperature dropped and the fire offered no resistance against the darkness. Sara was no longer a child. She was alone on the desolate beach, with sad, brown eyes watching her accusingly from the flames.
Shivering despite the warm night air, Sara scanned her surroundings in confusion. She was alone. In a SUV. Windows down, doors unlocked. Near water. In a parking lot. By a restaurant. Her mind pieced the clues together as the mental fog lifted. Grissom must have gone inside to eat. Yawning, Sara checked her watch, surprised at how long she had slept.
At least the passersby had woke her before her dream turned into a full-fledge nightmare. And luckily, Grissom hadn't been there to see it. She couldn't bear to disappoint him any more.
Her stomach growled. She debated going inside to join him. The thought of a real meal was very appealing. But Grissom had left her here. Well, he had made it clear in the past he didn't want to have dinner with her.
Now, after what she had done, she couldn't blame him for not wanting to associate with her. Who would?
Hopefully, he wouldn't be too angry with all the time he had wasted on her. Sara hoped he had had time to sleep before coming to see her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. She hadn't meant to snap at him earlier. She hadn't meant to confess her fears.
She hadn't meant to do a lot of things, but that didn't change the fact she had. And the results were as permanent as the grave.
Sniffing, she wiped at the tears forming, angry and embarrassed at her lack of control. She couldn't do anything right. Looking up, she saw Grissom leave the restaurant and head towards the Tahoe. Sara quickly tried to pull herself together.
Surprisingly, he came straight to her door, giving her a smile when he realized she was awake.
"Sara, glad to see you're awake. I wasn't sure I could bring myself to do it. You looked too restful," he said kindly. "Come on, we still have time to eat before heading to the lab," Grissom said as he opened the door.
"You haven't eaten yet?" Sara asked in disbelief, unable to comprehend his behavior.
"Of course not. I wouldn't leave you behind," he said, moving to help her out.
"Uhm, Grissom, I'm not really dressed for this place," she said, noticing the attire of the parking lot's other inhabitants. "I'm a mess."
Cocking his head, Grissom gave her a confused look. "You're fine," he stated. "It's casual."
Sara watched him in confusion. Was he blind or trying to be considerate? "Uhm, you go ahead, Grissom. I'll wait," she said, cursing her stomach as it growled loudly.
He watched her carefully. "You need to eat, Sara. An actual meal, not a collection of snacks," he said, keeping his voice soft but firm.
"You can just bring me something out," she said.
"Sara, they don't have a drive-thru," he said, pulling her gently out of the SUV. He held onto her arms as the circulation returned to her legs. "Come on, they'll have our table ready by now."
"Our table?"
"Yeah. That's where I was. I thought you might want some privacy. I asked the manager to sit us on the deck. It's usually closed this time of year, but it's a warm night."
Sara let him lead her to the deck at the rear of the building, glad they didn't have to go through the dining room. The deck was deserted, a lone table set next to the railing. Soft jazz drifted from the restaurant. Moonlight reflected off the smooth surface of Lake Mead, complimenting the soft light from the oil lamp on the table.
Any other man, any other time and the effect would have been incredibly romantic. With Grissom, now, it merely added to Sara's confusion. She didn't deserve this.
"I hope iced tea is okay. The food here is excellent but their coffee is terrible," he said, pulling out a chair for her. Sara nodded and silently let him push her chair in. He glanced towards the building and smiled. "I order some appetizers. That looks like them, now."
Their waitress gave them a friendly smile, set down a tray of assorted fried vegetables and cheese sticks and left a single menu besides Sara. "I always get the calamari," Grissom offered in explanation. When she made no move to pick up the menu, he reached out and brushed her arm. "Sara? You have to eat something."
His pleading tone broke her reverie. "Okay," she said reaching for the menu, trying to figure out what she had done to deserve this much care. Finally, her curiosity won. "Grissom? Why are we here?"
"To eat," he said in confusion. Grissom watched her carefully. He couldn't understand why she seemed so shocked by having dinner. Well, Kane said mood swings were common. Maybe she hadn't slept well in the Tahoe.
"You don't have to do this," she said with an odd expression.
"Sara, we were in the area. We needed to eat. It's a quiet spot where we won't be bothered. The location is nice, it's a pleasant night, the food is good. Just enjoy it," Grissom said gently.
The smell from the food was enough for her stomach to overrule her brain. She could analyze this later; for now she needed to eat. Scanning the menu, she reached over to sample the appetizers, but hesitated, looking up at Grissom. "Help yourself. I've ordered it for both of us," he smiled.
She returned it shyly. It grew when she tasted the food. "I told you it was good," he laughed, glad that something was making her happy. "They put too much basil in their marinara, if you're thinking about the pasta."
"I like basil," came out automatically. Their waitress returned with a basket of bread, a spare carafe of tea and took Sara's order for lasagna. "I thought you always get the squid," she said when the silence grew too heavy.
"I do. Now. I've been coming here occasionally for years," he said.
"Oh," Sara said, uncertain what to add. "Uhm, well..."
"Sara, if you don't want to talk, that's fine. Don't feel like you need to make small talk for my benefit," he said. "I'm used to eating without conversation."
"So am I," the brunette said so softly Grissom barely heard her. Giving herself a slight shake, Sara continued in a louder voice. "There's a difference when there's no conversation because you're eating by yourself, though."
Grissom snapped his head up. This was the perfect opening. Kane had suggested sharing experiences with Sara could help encourage her to open up. While it couldn't count as traumatic, he hoped she would recognize the significance of his sharing. Maybe it would help her understand his earlier behavior.
"That's true," he said, licking his lips nervously, waiting until their server left their salads. "But that wasn't what I meant." Grissom swallowed. Why was it so hard to do this? Others never seemed to have a problem. But if there was a chance it could help Sara, he'd try.
"My mother lost her hearing when I was young. It was just the two of us. I'm used to silence," he said, watching Sara for her reaction.
"That's how you learned sign language," she said softly.
He nodded. "My mother learned to read lips, but that's tricky. It's far easier to use sign language. But it's awkward trying to eat and sign at the same time. We tended to talk after meals, rather than during them."
Sara remained silent for a long time, devouring her salad. She pieced together bits of information from over the years. Finally, she looked up and waited until he matched her glance. "Is it hereditary?"
"Yes," he said. At first he was surprised, but then recalled that he had avoided her so she wouldn't figure it out.
"Your ... issues?" Sara asked cautiously. Even if she hadn't already known that Grissom was uncomfortable with personal situations, she would have recognized the obvious tension in his body language. Still, he had brought it up.
"Yes."
"You said it was resolved," Sara said in a questioning tone.
"Surgery. It fixed most of the damage," he explained, quickly ripping a piece of bread.
"I'm glad," she said, before recalling a conversation they had had when investigating the death of the deaf college student. "Not that it would change who you are. It would be harder for you to do your job, though. If it hadn't worked," she added quickly.
He smiled, glad of her answer. "I know. That's why I decided to get the surgery," Grissom said. "There was a risk. I could have completely lost my hearing. If it hadn't worked," he said when he saw her quizzical look.
They settled into silence again after the waitress brought out their meals. This time, though, it didn't carry the earlier tension. After declining dessert, Sara's doubts started to return. When the waitress brought the bill, she realized she had left her bag at Catherine's home. "Griss, I'll have to pay you later. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it, Sara. I've got it," he said. "You're cheap."
"What?" Even though her tone was soft, Grissom heard the confusion and pain.
"A cheap date. Vegetarian. No meat. Cheap," he explained, trying not to panic. He didn't want to upset her. He hung his head, pursing his lips. "I'm sorry, Sara. That came out terribly."
"It's okay," she said, embarrassed.
"No, it's not. I wanted you to have a nice meal, without having to worry about this whole mess. I ruined that," he said contritely.
"No. Don't blame yourself for my mess, Grisssom," she said harshly, before closing her eyes. "I'm sorry. For everything," she said, letting out a sigh. He gave her a confused look. "I'm pretty useless right now. I can't do anything right. I can't help at work. I just hurt people. You, Catherine." Children.
"Sara, that's not true. Don't be so hard on yourself," Grissom said. She turned sad eyes to him. Why was he doing this?
"I mean it, Grissom. I'm sorry. What I said earlier. In the Tahoe. I'm, I'm not leaving. You don't have to worry. You didn't have to do this," she said sincerely as they headed to the Tahoe. Right now work was all she had. She couldn't lose that, too.
"Sara, it's all right. I didn't mind. Really," Grissom said, turning towards her. They were alone. She wouldn't look at him. "Really," he repeated, cupping her chin to lift her head up. The look of sadness and doubt in her eyes dug at him. After a moment's hesitation, Grissom pulled her into a gentle hug.
Sara tensed at the action. It was too unexpected. But then she relaxed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Grissom was surprised at how natural it felt. After a few minutes, she pulled back. Reaching up to caress his cheek, she whispered "Thank you" with more sincerity than he ever thought two words could carry.
The ride back to the lab was silent. Sara closed her eyes, hating herself for giving into her weakness, but it had felt so good to think he cared, to allow herself to believe that fantasy. She'd be alone again, soon enough.
He'd hate her once her learned the truth. She hated herself.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 15 - That short, potential stir
A loud burst of laughter woke Sara up. The noise was too jarring a sound to fit in with her dream. It started as a memory out of her childhood, a day spent on the beach. Her parents walking down the beach, staying just on the edge of the waves, watching Sara hunting for seashells. Her older brother trying to impress the local girls. The warmth from the sun and from her family chasing away the chill coming off the water. The day ended as it usually did, with the family gathered around a driftwood fire, settling down for a picnic dinner.
But as the sun set, the temperature dropped and the fire offered no resistance against the darkness. Sara was no longer a child. She was alone on the desolate beach, with sad, brown eyes watching her accusingly from the flames.
Shivering despite the warm night air, Sara scanned her surroundings in confusion. She was alone. In a SUV. Windows down, doors unlocked. Near water. In a parking lot. By a restaurant. Her mind pieced the clues together as the mental fog lifted. Grissom must have gone inside to eat. Yawning, Sara checked her watch, surprised at how long she had slept.
At least the passersby had woke her before her dream turned into a full-fledge nightmare. And luckily, Grissom hadn't been there to see it. She couldn't bear to disappoint him any more.
Her stomach growled. She debated going inside to join him. The thought of a real meal was very appealing. But Grissom had left her here. Well, he had made it clear in the past he didn't want to have dinner with her.
Now, after what she had done, she couldn't blame him for not wanting to associate with her. Who would?
Hopefully, he wouldn't be too angry with all the time he had wasted on her. Sara hoped he had had time to sleep before coming to see her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. She hadn't meant to snap at him earlier. She hadn't meant to confess her fears.
She hadn't meant to do a lot of things, but that didn't change the fact she had. And the results were as permanent as the grave.
Sniffing, she wiped at the tears forming, angry and embarrassed at her lack of control. She couldn't do anything right. Looking up, she saw Grissom leave the restaurant and head towards the Tahoe. Sara quickly tried to pull herself together.
Surprisingly, he came straight to her door, giving her a smile when he realized she was awake.
"Sara, glad to see you're awake. I wasn't sure I could bring myself to do it. You looked too restful," he said kindly. "Come on, we still have time to eat before heading to the lab," Grissom said as he opened the door.
"You haven't eaten yet?" Sara asked in disbelief, unable to comprehend his behavior.
"Of course not. I wouldn't leave you behind," he said, moving to help her out.
"Uhm, Grissom, I'm not really dressed for this place," she said, noticing the attire of the parking lot's other inhabitants. "I'm a mess."
Cocking his head, Grissom gave her a confused look. "You're fine," he stated. "It's casual."
Sara watched him in confusion. Was he blind or trying to be considerate? "Uhm, you go ahead, Grissom. I'll wait," she said, cursing her stomach as it growled loudly.
He watched her carefully. "You need to eat, Sara. An actual meal, not a collection of snacks," he said, keeping his voice soft but firm.
"You can just bring me something out," she said.
"Sara, they don't have a drive-thru," he said, pulling her gently out of the SUV. He held onto her arms as the circulation returned to her legs. "Come on, they'll have our table ready by now."
"Our table?"
"Yeah. That's where I was. I thought you might want some privacy. I asked the manager to sit us on the deck. It's usually closed this time of year, but it's a warm night."
Sara let him lead her to the deck at the rear of the building, glad they didn't have to go through the dining room. The deck was deserted, a lone table set next to the railing. Soft jazz drifted from the restaurant. Moonlight reflected off the smooth surface of Lake Mead, complimenting the soft light from the oil lamp on the table.
Any other man, any other time and the effect would have been incredibly romantic. With Grissom, now, it merely added to Sara's confusion. She didn't deserve this.
"I hope iced tea is okay. The food here is excellent but their coffee is terrible," he said, pulling out a chair for her. Sara nodded and silently let him push her chair in. He glanced towards the building and smiled. "I order some appetizers. That looks like them, now."
Their waitress gave them a friendly smile, set down a tray of assorted fried vegetables and cheese sticks and left a single menu besides Sara. "I always get the calamari," Grissom offered in explanation. When she made no move to pick up the menu, he reached out and brushed her arm. "Sara? You have to eat something."
His pleading tone broke her reverie. "Okay," she said reaching for the menu, trying to figure out what she had done to deserve this much care. Finally, her curiosity won. "Grissom? Why are we here?"
"To eat," he said in confusion. Grissom watched her carefully. He couldn't understand why she seemed so shocked by having dinner. Well, Kane said mood swings were common. Maybe she hadn't slept well in the Tahoe.
"You don't have to do this," she said with an odd expression.
"Sara, we were in the area. We needed to eat. It's a quiet spot where we won't be bothered. The location is nice, it's a pleasant night, the food is good. Just enjoy it," Grissom said gently.
The smell from the food was enough for her stomach to overrule her brain. She could analyze this later; for now she needed to eat. Scanning the menu, she reached over to sample the appetizers, but hesitated, looking up at Grissom. "Help yourself. I've ordered it for both of us," he smiled.
She returned it shyly. It grew when she tasted the food. "I told you it was good," he laughed, glad that something was making her happy. "They put too much basil in their marinara, if you're thinking about the pasta."
"I like basil," came out automatically. Their waitress returned with a basket of bread, a spare carafe of tea and took Sara's order for lasagna. "I thought you always get the squid," she said when the silence grew too heavy.
"I do. Now. I've been coming here occasionally for years," he said.
"Oh," Sara said, uncertain what to add. "Uhm, well..."
"Sara, if you don't want to talk, that's fine. Don't feel like you need to make small talk for my benefit," he said. "I'm used to eating without conversation."
"So am I," the brunette said so softly Grissom barely heard her. Giving herself a slight shake, Sara continued in a louder voice. "There's a difference when there's no conversation because you're eating by yourself, though."
Grissom snapped his head up. This was the perfect opening. Kane had suggested sharing experiences with Sara could help encourage her to open up. While it couldn't count as traumatic, he hoped she would recognize the significance of his sharing. Maybe it would help her understand his earlier behavior.
"That's true," he said, licking his lips nervously, waiting until their server left their salads. "But that wasn't what I meant." Grissom swallowed. Why was it so hard to do this? Others never seemed to have a problem. But if there was a chance it could help Sara, he'd try.
"My mother lost her hearing when I was young. It was just the two of us. I'm used to silence," he said, watching Sara for her reaction.
"That's how you learned sign language," she said softly.
He nodded. "My mother learned to read lips, but that's tricky. It's far easier to use sign language. But it's awkward trying to eat and sign at the same time. We tended to talk after meals, rather than during them."
Sara remained silent for a long time, devouring her salad. She pieced together bits of information from over the years. Finally, she looked up and waited until he matched her glance. "Is it hereditary?"
"Yes," he said. At first he was surprised, but then recalled that he had avoided her so she wouldn't figure it out.
"Your ... issues?" Sara asked cautiously. Even if she hadn't already known that Grissom was uncomfortable with personal situations, she would have recognized the obvious tension in his body language. Still, he had brought it up.
"Yes."
"You said it was resolved," Sara said in a questioning tone.
"Surgery. It fixed most of the damage," he explained, quickly ripping a piece of bread.
"I'm glad," she said, before recalling a conversation they had had when investigating the death of the deaf college student. "Not that it would change who you are. It would be harder for you to do your job, though. If it hadn't worked," she added quickly.
He smiled, glad of her answer. "I know. That's why I decided to get the surgery," Grissom said. "There was a risk. I could have completely lost my hearing. If it hadn't worked," he said when he saw her quizzical look.
They settled into silence again after the waitress brought out their meals. This time, though, it didn't carry the earlier tension. After declining dessert, Sara's doubts started to return. When the waitress brought the bill, she realized she had left her bag at Catherine's home. "Griss, I'll have to pay you later. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it, Sara. I've got it," he said. "You're cheap."
"What?" Even though her tone was soft, Grissom heard the confusion and pain.
"A cheap date. Vegetarian. No meat. Cheap," he explained, trying not to panic. He didn't want to upset her. He hung his head, pursing his lips. "I'm sorry, Sara. That came out terribly."
"It's okay," she said, embarrassed.
"No, it's not. I wanted you to have a nice meal, without having to worry about this whole mess. I ruined that," he said contritely.
"No. Don't blame yourself for my mess, Grisssom," she said harshly, before closing her eyes. "I'm sorry. For everything," she said, letting out a sigh. He gave her a confused look. "I'm pretty useless right now. I can't do anything right. I can't help at work. I just hurt people. You, Catherine." Children.
"Sara, that's not true. Don't be so hard on yourself," Grissom said. She turned sad eyes to him. Why was he doing this?
"I mean it, Grissom. I'm sorry. What I said earlier. In the Tahoe. I'm, I'm not leaving. You don't have to worry. You didn't have to do this," she said sincerely as they headed to the Tahoe. Right now work was all she had. She couldn't lose that, too.
"Sara, it's all right. I didn't mind. Really," Grissom said, turning towards her. They were alone. She wouldn't look at him. "Really," he repeated, cupping her chin to lift her head up. The look of sadness and doubt in her eyes dug at him. After a moment's hesitation, Grissom pulled her into a gentle hug.
Sara tensed at the action. It was too unexpected. But then she relaxed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Grissom was surprised at how natural it felt. After a few minutes, she pulled back. Reaching up to caress his cheek, she whispered "Thank you" with more sincerity than he ever thought two words could carry.
The ride back to the lab was silent. Sara closed her eyes, hating herself for giving into her weakness, but it had felt so good to think he cared, to allow herself to believe that fantasy. She'd be alone again, soon enough.
He'd hate her once her learned the truth. She hated herself.