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 48
Catherine stood in the doorway and watched Grissom carefully. Something was wrong. While it wasn't unusual to find one of the staff waiting by the coffee machine for a fresh pot to finish brewing, they usually remembered to put grounds in the filter first. He'd yet to notice the semi-clear water dripping into the pot.
When she first spotted him in the break room, her original plan was to take him to task for not returning her phone call. She hadn't really been optimistic that he'd show up for the cookout, but ignoring the call had been unexpected and out-of-character.
Something was bothering him. After more than a decade of working together, she recognized his body language. Normally, she could have gotten him to talk about it, but now she doubted if he would open up even to her. That was making her nervous. There was a difference between being remote and being anti-social. He was definitely heading towards the latter.
Even if he didn't want to talk to her, she wanted to let him know people cared. When he was ready, he had to know he could count on the team's support.
"Hey, good idea to clean that thing out. It was getting nasty," she said, moving into the room with a smile. The passing look of confusion confirmed her suspicions. He hadn't even noticed he forgot to add the coffee. "We missed you this afternoon."
"Thanks," he said softly, knowing she was trying to spare him the embarrassment of pointing out his mistake.
"I'm sorry I didn't return your call. I didn't notice it until I was getting ready for work."
"No problem. Did you have a good time with your friend?" Catherine asked lightly. Three sentences; that was practically verbose by his standards since Sara left.
"Over all, yes," he said, moving to empty the pot of water.
"Good."
She leaned against the table, watching as he replaced the filter and added coffee this time. "Gil, if I can do anything to help, just let me know, okay? I know you're not a talker, but if you want to, you know I'm here for you. The whole team is. We are your family, even if we are a bit dysfunctional."
"I know, Catherine," he said shortly, moving to grab his lunch from the fridge. Grissom stopped when he saw her hurt expression. He started to leave, paused, and then took off his glasses, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry I missed your party. If I hadn't already had plans, I may have gone. I'm not mad at you, or the others. I have a lot on my mind right now. I don't want to talk, but maybe we can have breakfast later this week."
She watched open-mouthed as he exited the break room and headed to his office. Not only had he talked, he'd acknowledged a personal issue without any prodding. Shaking her head in shock, Catherine waited for the coffee to finish brewing. She needed it to clear her head.
~~~~~
Sinking into his chair, Grissom looked at his salad in confusion. Sara had actually been amused when she saw him packing it. She then complimented him on his weight loss, and flashed him one of her grins. He wasn't sure which surprised him more; than she noticed the few pounds he'd lost or that she wasn't angry with him.
When he couldn't answer her question about how he'd react to being involved with an employee, he thought for certain that she'd at least be hurt. Instead, she seemed to accept it, even if it didn't make her happy.
He was tempted to ignore it. Sara wasn't even sure she could return to the city, let alone the job. Why worry about something that could possibly be a moot point? Grissom let out a sigh. Because the truth would be a factor in her final decision, and it was too important to ignore.
Eating his lunch quickly, he tried to predict how he would react to their relationship if she returned to the lab. In the past, part of his trouble had been he was jealous of the flirting between Sara and various other males. It may have been meaningless, but it did irk him.
Would it be worse now? She may flirt with them, but he'd be the one she reserved her affections for. Of course, she might stop flirting if she knew it bothered him. Or was that something you didn't ask someone to stop? It was harmless, he was certain of that. Besides, jealousy was a sign of possession, not affection. Probably best not to ask her to do that.
The truth was he had no idea how he was going to react. She'd been right; he did find the idea of dating someone under his supervision uncomfortable. The department may be willing to overlook it as long as they were discreet, but there were other issues. Would either of their credibility be called into question because of it? How would he react if she ever placed herself in a dangerous situation? Would he be hesitant to assign her to cases that he felt might upset her?
He let out a sigh. Normally, Catherine would have beaten the truth out of him by now, and given him the advice he needed. He briefly debated asking for her help, but dismissed the idea. As much as he missed his friendship with her, he wasn't ready to talk about this yet.
Grissom chewed his tomato as he considered the options. He had been serious when he offered to move. If it ever came to a choice between Sara and Las Vegas, she'd win. Would she be willing to make the same sacrifice for him and give up her career as a CSI?
Sara loved her job as much as he did, but she didn't have the same options. While highly talented, she didn't have the specialization or years of experience he did. Grissom knew he could get a job in a variety of related fields. She'd have to settle for something totally different.
If she wasn't happy with her new job, he ran the risk of her resenting him for asking her to give it up. But if he couldn't handle their personal and professional lives overlapping, she could resent him for that.
Getting up, he headed for the break room to get coffee. His head was starting to hurt.
~~~~~
Grissom entered the townhouse wearily. He'd called Sara earlier that morning to let her know he'd be late, and not to wait for him before she ate breakfast. Hopefully, she wasn't upset; one advantage of dating a CSI was they understood the hours.
She was sitting on the couch, reading a field guide. By all appearances, she seemed to be in a good mood. Sara didn't look up when he walked in, but just called out, "Nymphalidae."
He gave her a confused look as he crossed the room to collapse beside her. "Brush-footed butterflies?"
"There's nearly three dozen types in Nevada," she said. Without looking up from her reading, she lifted his arm to drape across her shoulders, and leaned against his chest. "And look at the Hesperiidae. How many are there?"
"Including the subfamilies? At least 40. I'm not sure exactly," he yawned. "Why?"
"You didn't mention them earlier," she said with a smirk. "Holding out on me?"
He stared at her for a moment, until he realized what she was talking about. Did she expect another apology? It probably would be a good idea, but he was exhausted. Sensing his anxiety, she squeezed his thigh reassuringly.
"It's okay, baby. I know you're tired. Just letting you know I'm okay with you not having an answer. I don't have answers, either."
"Thanks," he said. Part of his mind was yelling at him that this was a good thing, but another part was pointing out that she used that nickname for Hank.
"You okay? Want something to eat?"
"No, I ate earlier," he said, getting off the couch, and heading to the spare bedroom.
Sara followed, wondering what was wrong. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched as he began to feed his various creatures. "Did I say something wrong? I was just joking about the butterflies."
Grissom glanced up, and felt embarrassed when he saw her nervous look. He'd have to call Philip to talk about his jealousy. "I don't like that name," he admitted softly.
Sara cocked her head in confusion, replaying the conversation to figure out what he was talking about. "Baby? Oh, you heard about that. Sorry."
He shrugged, glad she wasn't upset with him, and went back to work. Looking up, he found Sara staring at some of his beetles. "Want to help?" he asked eagerly.
"Not really, Grissom. You don't have to worry about ever having to share these guys with me."
"I thought you were an animal lover," he teased.
"These aren't animals," she said, giving him a look daring him to contradict her. "If you had a cat or a dog, then you'd have to share. Pets don't have exoskeletons, they have fur. And don't even think of bringing that tarantula over here."
Grissom smiled as he set the hairy spider back in its enclosure. "Well, I think a cat would go insane trying to catch the bugs. And there isn't room for a dog."
She smiled as he finished feeding his maggots. "So, are there any other families of butterflies I should know about?"
He chuckled. "Sara, I know my limits. Besides, if I was going to brag, I'd mention there's more than 100 species of beetles in the Great Basin Desert."
"You would," she said with a laugh. "You probably have most of them. Let's get some rest. It's been a long night."
~~~~~
When he awoke, Grissom was disappointed to find himself alone. Heading into the living room, he found Sara reading the Sunday paper. He didn't comment that it was the employment section.
"Trouble sleeping?"
"No. Slept great, but was getting bored. Didn't want to wake you."
He walked over to give her a kiss, before grabbing some coffee. "What do you want to do today? I could fix us dinner, or we could go out."
"If you don't mind, I'd rather stay in."
"Okay," he said, moving to gather various supplies from the fridge and cabinets.
"Quiche?" Sara asked with a smirk when she saw the crust and eggs.
"It's just fancy scrambled eggs," he said simply. "Besides, I don't know that many vegetarian recipes."
That earned him a peck on the cheek and assistance in preparing the meal. Grissom was relieved that Sara wasn't upset with him, and had spent the evening keeping the conversation light.
Afterwards, they settled back at the dining room table with a bottle of wine and the chess set. "What do you want to do once we're done?" Grissom asked.
Sara smiled. She could tell he was still nervous, and decided to reassure him. "We'll let the winner decide," she said, keeping her tone serious.
Sipping her wine, Sara watched as he intently studied the board. Apparently her hint had been too subtle. She smirked as she moved a pawn into a position to be captured. Once he took the piece, she waited until he looked up to undo the top button of her shirt.
"If you're hot, I can turn up the air conditioning," he offered, turning his attention back to the game.
"That's okay," she said, rolling her eyes. Once again, she maneuvered a pawn into a position to be captured. When he looked up, she undid another button. That got him to lick his lips, but he still didn't seem to catch on.
Grissom kept his attention focused on the board, wishing Sara would just let him lower the temperature. Her blouse revealed enough of her cleavage without her assistance. While the view was enjoyable, it was distracting. He frowned as she sacrificed another pawn and then moved her knight in an exposed position. If she didn't want to play, she should have just said so.
Sliding his bishop to capture her piece, he looked up to tell her they didn't have to play. His mouth went dry. She'd undone the front clasp of her bra. Realization dawned on him; he'd never heard of Strip Chess before. In his shock, he set his piece down too soon, leaving himself open for attack.
Sara smiled and captured his queen. "Pay attention, Grissom. And pay up."
He blinked in confusion and turned his eyes back to the board briefly. Pulling off his socks, he tossed them aside before draining his glass of wine. When she started to chuckle, he realized it was his turn to move. Grissom found it hard to focus on the board; Sara still had her shirt on, but it was barely covering the interesting areas.
He quickly moved a knight, and groaned when it was captured. Sara was better prepared for this. All he had left was his T-shirt, sweatpants and boxers. Pulling off his shirt, he realized he'd made a strategic mistake taking off both socks last time.
When he mentioned this to Sara, she smiled seductively and pulled off her belt, tossing it to join his clothes on the floor. She couldn't believe how flustered he was. It was a definite ego boost to her that she had this affect on him. It was also arousing.
Making sure he was watching, she leaned over the table, enjoying the open look of desire as he watched the better view of her breasts. Calling his name softly, she waited until he looked at her eyes before slowing sliding her jeans off, smiling as he tried to turn to a view that showed her legs.
Grissom's throat was dry again. He turned his attention back to the board. He had already lost his queen; he could purposely lose the game quickly. But he was enjoying the striptease act. Unfortunately, he'd have to sacrifice a piece to get in a better strategic position.
He stood up briefly when Sara took his rook and tried to pull off his sweatpants quickly. He froze when Sara watched him admiringly. His arousal was evident, but the fact she was licking her lips in anticipation made him feel flushed. Sitting back down, he quickly captured her pawn. Waiting for her to finally take off her blouse, he felt the blood rush when she tossed her panties on the pile of clothes instead.
He turned his attention back to the game. It didn't really matter who won this game; he'd end up a winner in the next. With a quick motion, he moved his bishop aside, leaving himself open to being checkmated. He didn't wait until Sara had finished her final move before he went around the table to pull her up.
Their kisses were deep and probing as they quickly shed the last of their clothes. Sara groaned as he kneaded the flesh of her rear, pulling her harder against his heat. The bedroom suddenly seemed too far away.
She eyed the table, but that would be too uncomfortable. She swung her eyes to the living room as Grissom began kissing his way down her neck. The couch was too small, and leather and sweat never made a good combination. Looking down, she saw the cold concrete floor, and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bedroom.
"I'm getting you carpet for your birthday," she muttered.
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 48
Catherine stood in the doorway and watched Grissom carefully. Something was wrong. While it wasn't unusual to find one of the staff waiting by the coffee machine for a fresh pot to finish brewing, they usually remembered to put grounds in the filter first. He'd yet to notice the semi-clear water dripping into the pot.
When she first spotted him in the break room, her original plan was to take him to task for not returning her phone call. She hadn't really been optimistic that he'd show up for the cookout, but ignoring the call had been unexpected and out-of-character.
Something was bothering him. After more than a decade of working together, she recognized his body language. Normally, she could have gotten him to talk about it, but now she doubted if he would open up even to her. That was making her nervous. There was a difference between being remote and being anti-social. He was definitely heading towards the latter.
Even if he didn't want to talk to her, she wanted to let him know people cared. When he was ready, he had to know he could count on the team's support.
"Hey, good idea to clean that thing out. It was getting nasty," she said, moving into the room with a smile. The passing look of confusion confirmed her suspicions. He hadn't even noticed he forgot to add the coffee. "We missed you this afternoon."
"Thanks," he said softly, knowing she was trying to spare him the embarrassment of pointing out his mistake.
"I'm sorry I didn't return your call. I didn't notice it until I was getting ready for work."
"No problem. Did you have a good time with your friend?" Catherine asked lightly. Three sentences; that was practically verbose by his standards since Sara left.
"Over all, yes," he said, moving to empty the pot of water.
"Good."
She leaned against the table, watching as he replaced the filter and added coffee this time. "Gil, if I can do anything to help, just let me know, okay? I know you're not a talker, but if you want to, you know I'm here for you. The whole team is. We are your family, even if we are a bit dysfunctional."
"I know, Catherine," he said shortly, moving to grab his lunch from the fridge. Grissom stopped when he saw her hurt expression. He started to leave, paused, and then took off his glasses, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry I missed your party. If I hadn't already had plans, I may have gone. I'm not mad at you, or the others. I have a lot on my mind right now. I don't want to talk, but maybe we can have breakfast later this week."
She watched open-mouthed as he exited the break room and headed to his office. Not only had he talked, he'd acknowledged a personal issue without any prodding. Shaking her head in shock, Catherine waited for the coffee to finish brewing. She needed it to clear her head.
~~~~~
Sinking into his chair, Grissom looked at his salad in confusion. Sara had actually been amused when she saw him packing it. She then complimented him on his weight loss, and flashed him one of her grins. He wasn't sure which surprised him more; than she noticed the few pounds he'd lost or that she wasn't angry with him.
When he couldn't answer her question about how he'd react to being involved with an employee, he thought for certain that she'd at least be hurt. Instead, she seemed to accept it, even if it didn't make her happy.
He was tempted to ignore it. Sara wasn't even sure she could return to the city, let alone the job. Why worry about something that could possibly be a moot point? Grissom let out a sigh. Because the truth would be a factor in her final decision, and it was too important to ignore.
Eating his lunch quickly, he tried to predict how he would react to their relationship if she returned to the lab. In the past, part of his trouble had been he was jealous of the flirting between Sara and various other males. It may have been meaningless, but it did irk him.
Would it be worse now? She may flirt with them, but he'd be the one she reserved her affections for. Of course, she might stop flirting if she knew it bothered him. Or was that something you didn't ask someone to stop? It was harmless, he was certain of that. Besides, jealousy was a sign of possession, not affection. Probably best not to ask her to do that.
The truth was he had no idea how he was going to react. She'd been right; he did find the idea of dating someone under his supervision uncomfortable. The department may be willing to overlook it as long as they were discreet, but there were other issues. Would either of their credibility be called into question because of it? How would he react if she ever placed herself in a dangerous situation? Would he be hesitant to assign her to cases that he felt might upset her?
He let out a sigh. Normally, Catherine would have beaten the truth out of him by now, and given him the advice he needed. He briefly debated asking for her help, but dismissed the idea. As much as he missed his friendship with her, he wasn't ready to talk about this yet.
Grissom chewed his tomato as he considered the options. He had been serious when he offered to move. If it ever came to a choice between Sara and Las Vegas, she'd win. Would she be willing to make the same sacrifice for him and give up her career as a CSI?
Sara loved her job as much as he did, but she didn't have the same options. While highly talented, she didn't have the specialization or years of experience he did. Grissom knew he could get a job in a variety of related fields. She'd have to settle for something totally different.
If she wasn't happy with her new job, he ran the risk of her resenting him for asking her to give it up. But if he couldn't handle their personal and professional lives overlapping, she could resent him for that.
Getting up, he headed for the break room to get coffee. His head was starting to hurt.
~~~~~
Grissom entered the townhouse wearily. He'd called Sara earlier that morning to let her know he'd be late, and not to wait for him before she ate breakfast. Hopefully, she wasn't upset; one advantage of dating a CSI was they understood the hours.
She was sitting on the couch, reading a field guide. By all appearances, she seemed to be in a good mood. Sara didn't look up when he walked in, but just called out, "Nymphalidae."
He gave her a confused look as he crossed the room to collapse beside her. "Brush-footed butterflies?"
"There's nearly three dozen types in Nevada," she said. Without looking up from her reading, she lifted his arm to drape across her shoulders, and leaned against his chest. "And look at the Hesperiidae. How many are there?"
"Including the subfamilies? At least 40. I'm not sure exactly," he yawned. "Why?"
"You didn't mention them earlier," she said with a smirk. "Holding out on me?"
He stared at her for a moment, until he realized what she was talking about. Did she expect another apology? It probably would be a good idea, but he was exhausted. Sensing his anxiety, she squeezed his thigh reassuringly.
"It's okay, baby. I know you're tired. Just letting you know I'm okay with you not having an answer. I don't have answers, either."
"Thanks," he said. Part of his mind was yelling at him that this was a good thing, but another part was pointing out that she used that nickname for Hank.
"You okay? Want something to eat?"
"No, I ate earlier," he said, getting off the couch, and heading to the spare bedroom.
Sara followed, wondering what was wrong. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched as he began to feed his various creatures. "Did I say something wrong? I was just joking about the butterflies."
Grissom glanced up, and felt embarrassed when he saw her nervous look. He'd have to call Philip to talk about his jealousy. "I don't like that name," he admitted softly.
Sara cocked her head in confusion, replaying the conversation to figure out what he was talking about. "Baby? Oh, you heard about that. Sorry."
He shrugged, glad she wasn't upset with him, and went back to work. Looking up, he found Sara staring at some of his beetles. "Want to help?" he asked eagerly.
"Not really, Grissom. You don't have to worry about ever having to share these guys with me."
"I thought you were an animal lover," he teased.
"These aren't animals," she said, giving him a look daring him to contradict her. "If you had a cat or a dog, then you'd have to share. Pets don't have exoskeletons, they have fur. And don't even think of bringing that tarantula over here."
Grissom smiled as he set the hairy spider back in its enclosure. "Well, I think a cat would go insane trying to catch the bugs. And there isn't room for a dog."
She smiled as he finished feeding his maggots. "So, are there any other families of butterflies I should know about?"
He chuckled. "Sara, I know my limits. Besides, if I was going to brag, I'd mention there's more than 100 species of beetles in the Great Basin Desert."
"You would," she said with a laugh. "You probably have most of them. Let's get some rest. It's been a long night."
~~~~~
When he awoke, Grissom was disappointed to find himself alone. Heading into the living room, he found Sara reading the Sunday paper. He didn't comment that it was the employment section.
"Trouble sleeping?"
"No. Slept great, but was getting bored. Didn't want to wake you."
He walked over to give her a kiss, before grabbing some coffee. "What do you want to do today? I could fix us dinner, or we could go out."
"If you don't mind, I'd rather stay in."
"Okay," he said, moving to gather various supplies from the fridge and cabinets.
"Quiche?" Sara asked with a smirk when she saw the crust and eggs.
"It's just fancy scrambled eggs," he said simply. "Besides, I don't know that many vegetarian recipes."
That earned him a peck on the cheek and assistance in preparing the meal. Grissom was relieved that Sara wasn't upset with him, and had spent the evening keeping the conversation light.
Afterwards, they settled back at the dining room table with a bottle of wine and the chess set. "What do you want to do once we're done?" Grissom asked.
Sara smiled. She could tell he was still nervous, and decided to reassure him. "We'll let the winner decide," she said, keeping her tone serious.
Sipping her wine, Sara watched as he intently studied the board. Apparently her hint had been too subtle. She smirked as she moved a pawn into a position to be captured. Once he took the piece, she waited until he looked up to undo the top button of her shirt.
"If you're hot, I can turn up the air conditioning," he offered, turning his attention back to the game.
"That's okay," she said, rolling her eyes. Once again, she maneuvered a pawn into a position to be captured. When he looked up, she undid another button. That got him to lick his lips, but he still didn't seem to catch on.
Grissom kept his attention focused on the board, wishing Sara would just let him lower the temperature. Her blouse revealed enough of her cleavage without her assistance. While the view was enjoyable, it was distracting. He frowned as she sacrificed another pawn and then moved her knight in an exposed position. If she didn't want to play, she should have just said so.
Sliding his bishop to capture her piece, he looked up to tell her they didn't have to play. His mouth went dry. She'd undone the front clasp of her bra. Realization dawned on him; he'd never heard of Strip Chess before. In his shock, he set his piece down too soon, leaving himself open for attack.
Sara smiled and captured his queen. "Pay attention, Grissom. And pay up."
He blinked in confusion and turned his eyes back to the board briefly. Pulling off his socks, he tossed them aside before draining his glass of wine. When she started to chuckle, he realized it was his turn to move. Grissom found it hard to focus on the board; Sara still had her shirt on, but it was barely covering the interesting areas.
He quickly moved a knight, and groaned when it was captured. Sara was better prepared for this. All he had left was his T-shirt, sweatpants and boxers. Pulling off his shirt, he realized he'd made a strategic mistake taking off both socks last time.
When he mentioned this to Sara, she smiled seductively and pulled off her belt, tossing it to join his clothes on the floor. She couldn't believe how flustered he was. It was a definite ego boost to her that she had this affect on him. It was also arousing.
Making sure he was watching, she leaned over the table, enjoying the open look of desire as he watched the better view of her breasts. Calling his name softly, she waited until he looked at her eyes before slowing sliding her jeans off, smiling as he tried to turn to a view that showed her legs.
Grissom's throat was dry again. He turned his attention back to the board. He had already lost his queen; he could purposely lose the game quickly. But he was enjoying the striptease act. Unfortunately, he'd have to sacrifice a piece to get in a better strategic position.
He stood up briefly when Sara took his rook and tried to pull off his sweatpants quickly. He froze when Sara watched him admiringly. His arousal was evident, but the fact she was licking her lips in anticipation made him feel flushed. Sitting back down, he quickly captured her pawn. Waiting for her to finally take off her blouse, he felt the blood rush when she tossed her panties on the pile of clothes instead.
He turned his attention back to the game. It didn't really matter who won this game; he'd end up a winner in the next. With a quick motion, he moved his bishop aside, leaving himself open to being checkmated. He didn't wait until Sara had finished her final move before he went around the table to pull her up.
Their kisses were deep and probing as they quickly shed the last of their clothes. Sara groaned as he kneaded the flesh of her rear, pulling her harder against his heat. The bedroom suddenly seemed too far away.
She eyed the table, but that would be too uncomfortable. She swung her eyes to the living room as Grissom began kissing his way down her neck. The couch was too small, and leather and sweat never made a good combination. Looking down, she saw the cold concrete floor, and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bedroom.
"I'm getting you carpet for your birthday," she muttered.