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 57
"Hey."
Grissom anxiously turned when Sara entered the townhouse, carrying a paper sack.
"Hey," he replied softly. Walking over, he took the package, and escorted her to the dining room table. While he'd waited for her to return, he had occupied himself with various chores, including setting the table. It was overboard for carryout, but it had helped to pass the time.
He knew it was a diversionary measure, but it hadn't worked well. Grissom had fretted the entire time since her call, worrying both about her condition and what her attitude would be towards him. Her outbursts were frightening; not that he worried for his own safety, but they showed how much this affected her. Sara normally was very controlled.
Facing her now, he swallowed nervously. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the only outward sign that she'd been crying. Her expression was a mixture of exhaustion and embarrassment. If Sara was still angry, she wasn't showing it.
"I'm sorry," she said contritely, concentrating on taking contains from the sack.
"So am I."
Each flashed the other a nervous grin, the discomfort palpable in the room. Sara went back to opening containers, while Grissom checked the various food items. A wan smile formed as he watched her.
"Smells delicious. I'll go make some tea," he offered, scratching his head in confusion. As far as he could remember, they had only had shared Indian food once together, part of a team meal over a year ago. Still, she had picked out his favorite dishes.
Was she always that observant of trivialities, or did she save that type of attention for him? He couldn't have done the same if their positions were switched. Hell, it had taken a firestorm for him to learn Sara was a vegetarian.
"Sounds good," she said softly.
"Is Darjeeling okay?"
"Fine," she said, giving him a weak smile.
"Okay," he replied, trying to think of something intelligent to add.
"Did you get any sleep?"
"Not much. Catherine showed up about two hours after you left."
"A case come up?" Sara asked, nervously empting out containers into the serving bowls.
"No. She heard about last night's case. Wanted to see how I was," he said with a shrug, placing the teakettle on the stove.
"Oh."
"You know Catherine. Anything's her business if it interests her," he said, hoping to lighten the tension in the room.
"Cool."
Grissom watched her intently as she opened the last container, and then carefully gathered the debris. He understood why they were sticking so idle chatter. Both of them were still on edge, and it was easier to keep to safe topics of conversation. Turning his attention to the cupboards, he rummaged around until he found the tea.
He wondered if it was better to wait until later to talk. It wasn't something they could ignore, but now might not be the best time. Both of them were tired, and her control seemed weaker when she was exhausted. Maybe Sara would give him a clue when she was ready to talk. For now, he could at least give her some advance warning.
"She wants to go to a conference in Lompoc next month. Plans on visiting you while she's there."
"Really?" Sara looked up in surprise.
"She's wants to see how you're doing," he said, walking over to her. "See if you're coming back."
"Oh. Hope that didn't make you too uncomfortable," Sara said, walking back to the table.
"No. We actually had a nice talk," he said, shrugging before heading back into the kitchen.
"Good. How's your headache?"
"A little better," he said, smiling briefly when he saw Sara standing nearby. She looked bashful, shrugging one shoulder.
"Your hand?"
"Sore, but okay," he said, flexing it in demonstration.
"Promise me you'll see Doc," she insisted.
Grissom's smile lasted a bit longer this time. Her concern was touching. She'd picked out food he liked. On the surface, it seemed like she had forgiven him.
"I will. Don't worry, it's not serious," he said kindly.
"Good."
Once the tea was made, they returned to the table to eat, rarely talking. Occasionally, one would flash the other a shy smile. Afterwards, Grissom gathered up the dishes.
"You should get some rest before you go in tonight," Sara said, as she put the leftovers away.
He glanced at his watch. She'd have to get ready to head to the airport in a few hours. "So should you," he said hesitantly. "I can sleep on the couch, if that would make you more comfortable."
"It wouldn't," she replied. "You've put up with too much already. I'm sorry, Grissom. I don't know why I'm having such a hard time. This whole weekend has been rough."
"I didn't help things, Sara. Don't blame yourself," he pointed out.
"I'm not blaming myself. Or you. Just stating a fact."
Grissom watched as she leaned against the counter, closing her eyes in exhaustion. Lack of sleep normally didn't bother her. How long had it been since she slept well? "Why don't you go ahead to bed? It'll just take me a few minutes to finish up in here."
"Okay."
When he entered the bedroom later, he found her already under the covers. She was on the far side, facing towards the wall. Undressing quickly, he made sure the alarm clock was set before crawling in beside her. He stretched his arm out tentatively, but withdrew before making contact.
Letting out a soft "good night", he laid in the center of the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Night."
He snapped his eyes open when he felt her head rest on his chest. After a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her. His own pulse slowed when he felt her start to relax as he stroked her back gently.
~~~~~
Thoughts of coffee were the first thing on Grissom's mind when he awoke Thursday evening. Stretching slowly, he considered going back to sleep. It was his night off, and there was nothing he needed to do tonight. The only thing to look forward to would be an e-mail message from Sara; she might even call.
At least they had been on speaking terms when she left on Sunday night, but there had been an awkwardness between them. They had kept up their daily e-mail exchanges, and had talked on the phone twice. Both had offered the other apologies for their behavior, and both had accepted them.
He missed her.
Sara couldn't come to visit this weekend due to an open house being held at the university, and the next would be spent with her parents. His own schedule was hectic; he couldn't even manage a daytrip to California for at least another week.
Stretching slowly, coffee entered his mind again. Bolting upright, he realized he could smell it coming from the kitchen. Throwing on a robe, he cautiously entered the main living area, freezing at what he saw.
"Sara?"
"Hey," she said sheepishly. Getting up from the couch, she indicated her cup of coffee. "Hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. What's up?" he asked quickly.
"I had to talk to you. I couldn't leave things the way they were," she said with a sigh.
"I thought you were busy this weekend," Grissom said cautiously, going to get himself some coffee.
"I am. I have to catch a flight back in the morning."
Setting his mug on the counter, Grissom approached her slowly, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. When she didn't pull back, he slid his hands down her arms, then to her waist, pulling her into a hug. She pressed against him briefly, before pulling back.
Grissom followed her to the couch, both resting one leg on the couch so they could face the other. He looked at her in surprise when she pulled her journal out of her bag.
"Here," she said simply, holding the book out to him.
"What?" he asked in confusion, not taking the book.
"I want you to read it."
"What?"
Sara gave him a sweet smile at his openly baffled expression.
"I want you to read this. I don't have any secrets from you, Grissom. I told Kane he could discuss my case with you. Anything you want to know, anything that can make this easier on you, I'll do for you. Here," she said, presenting him with the journal again.
The tip of Grissom's tongue peaked out between his pursed lips as he regarded the book. It was a tempting offer. It would give him valuable insight into Sara's concerns and fears. Her darkest secrets. Things she hadn't felt comfortable telling him.
"No."
"What?"
It was Grissom's turn to smile at her surprise.
"I'm not going to read your journal, Sara. If there's something you want me to know, I want you to tell me. Personally," he said kindly. "You don't have to give up your privacy for me. I can't ask that, and I certainly don't expect it."
"You're not violating my privacy if I tell you to read it," she said, a hint of a smile on her face.
"If there's anything you want me to know, you can tell me."
"Grissom," she said, giving her head a shake. "Whatever you saw in here before freaked you out."
"It didn't 'freak' me out," he contradicted mildly.
"You always bribe desk clerks to find out where people are staying?" Sara teased.
"No. But I don't 'freak'. 'Overreact' would be a better term," he said.
"Fine. Overreacted. But the result was the same. You chased me down," she sighed, breaking the levity.
"I'm sorry about that. It wouldn't happen again."
"It can't."
Grissom watched her intently. Her response had been very low, but carried a magnitude of pain. Reaching over, he took the journal, and set it on the coffee table. Moving closer, he took her hands in his own.
"Sara?"
"I need you, Grissom," she whispered. "You have no idea how much it helps knowing you're here for me. But I have to be able to trust you. That's the only thing that makes it possible for me to be here."
"We don't have to be here. If coming back to Vegas is too rough, Sara, don't do it. Not for me. I'll go to California."
"For a day at a time? We can't keep up a relationship that way," she said with a smile. "We need to be together."
Grissom squeezed her hands before getting up. Walking over to his desk, he shifted piles of paper until he found the sheet he was looking for. Sitting back beside Sara he showed her the blank request form for a leave-of-absence.
"I can take some time off. We can stay in California if you want. Or we could take a long vacation somewhere. Maybe go whale watching in the Pacific Northwest," he offered, thinking she'd like that. She liked animals. When Sara stared at him, her mouth open slightly, he started to get nervous. "Is that a good speechless or a bad speechless?"
"I'm not sure," she said, grinning widely, reaching over to take his hand. "That's sweet. Really. But I don't want you to do that. You've sacrificed enough already, Grissom."
"If it helps you, I don't mind. I'll take a leave. I'll take another job. I'll move. Whatever it takes, Sara."
"I have to come back, Grissom," she said, looking down at their joined hands.
"Why?"
"I can't let this beat me," she said hotly. "I can't. I'm not some sort of mental case. I want my life back, Grissom. I want to go back to a job I love. I want to be with my friends."
"You still can. There's no time limit. Don't rush it, honey. Just tell me how I can help."
She smiled sweetly, giving his hand a squeeze. "Trust me, please? If I say I need space, give it to me. I'm not trying to avoid you. I'm trying to avoid a fight. There're still times I need to be alone. To get my act together."
He nodded sheepishly. "I'll try to be better. I don't want you to regret ever being with me."
"I can't imagine that ever happening," she said, leaning her head against the back of the couch.
"Good," he smiled. "What time does your flight leave?"
"At 4 a.m."
"Sara," he said sternly, shaking his head. He shifted so his back was resting against the couch, and held out his arm to her. "You should get some rest. Even you need to sleep. It sounds like you're going to be busy all weekend."
Sara let go of his hand, sliding closer to him. Grissom went to wrap his arm around her shoulder, but looked up in surprise when she swung a leg over so she straddled him. She smirked as she undid the tie to his robe.
"Maybe you should get me in bed, then," she said before moving in to kiss him.
TBC
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 57
"Hey."
Grissom anxiously turned when Sara entered the townhouse, carrying a paper sack.
"Hey," he replied softly. Walking over, he took the package, and escorted her to the dining room table. While he'd waited for her to return, he had occupied himself with various chores, including setting the table. It was overboard for carryout, but it had helped to pass the time.
He knew it was a diversionary measure, but it hadn't worked well. Grissom had fretted the entire time since her call, worrying both about her condition and what her attitude would be towards him. Her outbursts were frightening; not that he worried for his own safety, but they showed how much this affected her. Sara normally was very controlled.
Facing her now, he swallowed nervously. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the only outward sign that she'd been crying. Her expression was a mixture of exhaustion and embarrassment. If Sara was still angry, she wasn't showing it.
"I'm sorry," she said contritely, concentrating on taking contains from the sack.
"So am I."
Each flashed the other a nervous grin, the discomfort palpable in the room. Sara went back to opening containers, while Grissom checked the various food items. A wan smile formed as he watched her.
"Smells delicious. I'll go make some tea," he offered, scratching his head in confusion. As far as he could remember, they had only had shared Indian food once together, part of a team meal over a year ago. Still, she had picked out his favorite dishes.
Was she always that observant of trivialities, or did she save that type of attention for him? He couldn't have done the same if their positions were switched. Hell, it had taken a firestorm for him to learn Sara was a vegetarian.
"Sounds good," she said softly.
"Is Darjeeling okay?"
"Fine," she said, giving him a weak smile.
"Okay," he replied, trying to think of something intelligent to add.
"Did you get any sleep?"
"Not much. Catherine showed up about two hours after you left."
"A case come up?" Sara asked, nervously empting out containers into the serving bowls.
"No. She heard about last night's case. Wanted to see how I was," he said with a shrug, placing the teakettle on the stove.
"Oh."
"You know Catherine. Anything's her business if it interests her," he said, hoping to lighten the tension in the room.
"Cool."
Grissom watched her intently as she opened the last container, and then carefully gathered the debris. He understood why they were sticking so idle chatter. Both of them were still on edge, and it was easier to keep to safe topics of conversation. Turning his attention to the cupboards, he rummaged around until he found the tea.
He wondered if it was better to wait until later to talk. It wasn't something they could ignore, but now might not be the best time. Both of them were tired, and her control seemed weaker when she was exhausted. Maybe Sara would give him a clue when she was ready to talk. For now, he could at least give her some advance warning.
"She wants to go to a conference in Lompoc next month. Plans on visiting you while she's there."
"Really?" Sara looked up in surprise.
"She's wants to see how you're doing," he said, walking over to her. "See if you're coming back."
"Oh. Hope that didn't make you too uncomfortable," Sara said, walking back to the table.
"No. We actually had a nice talk," he said, shrugging before heading back into the kitchen.
"Good. How's your headache?"
"A little better," he said, smiling briefly when he saw Sara standing nearby. She looked bashful, shrugging one shoulder.
"Your hand?"
"Sore, but okay," he said, flexing it in demonstration.
"Promise me you'll see Doc," she insisted.
Grissom's smile lasted a bit longer this time. Her concern was touching. She'd picked out food he liked. On the surface, it seemed like she had forgiven him.
"I will. Don't worry, it's not serious," he said kindly.
"Good."
Once the tea was made, they returned to the table to eat, rarely talking. Occasionally, one would flash the other a shy smile. Afterwards, Grissom gathered up the dishes.
"You should get some rest before you go in tonight," Sara said, as she put the leftovers away.
He glanced at his watch. She'd have to get ready to head to the airport in a few hours. "So should you," he said hesitantly. "I can sleep on the couch, if that would make you more comfortable."
"It wouldn't," she replied. "You've put up with too much already. I'm sorry, Grissom. I don't know why I'm having such a hard time. This whole weekend has been rough."
"I didn't help things, Sara. Don't blame yourself," he pointed out.
"I'm not blaming myself. Or you. Just stating a fact."
Grissom watched as she leaned against the counter, closing her eyes in exhaustion. Lack of sleep normally didn't bother her. How long had it been since she slept well? "Why don't you go ahead to bed? It'll just take me a few minutes to finish up in here."
"Okay."
When he entered the bedroom later, he found her already under the covers. She was on the far side, facing towards the wall. Undressing quickly, he made sure the alarm clock was set before crawling in beside her. He stretched his arm out tentatively, but withdrew before making contact.
Letting out a soft "good night", he laid in the center of the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Night."
He snapped his eyes open when he felt her head rest on his chest. After a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her. His own pulse slowed when he felt her start to relax as he stroked her back gently.
~~~~~
Thoughts of coffee were the first thing on Grissom's mind when he awoke Thursday evening. Stretching slowly, he considered going back to sleep. It was his night off, and there was nothing he needed to do tonight. The only thing to look forward to would be an e-mail message from Sara; she might even call.
At least they had been on speaking terms when she left on Sunday night, but there had been an awkwardness between them. They had kept up their daily e-mail exchanges, and had talked on the phone twice. Both had offered the other apologies for their behavior, and both had accepted them.
He missed her.
Sara couldn't come to visit this weekend due to an open house being held at the university, and the next would be spent with her parents. His own schedule was hectic; he couldn't even manage a daytrip to California for at least another week.
Stretching slowly, coffee entered his mind again. Bolting upright, he realized he could smell it coming from the kitchen. Throwing on a robe, he cautiously entered the main living area, freezing at what he saw.
"Sara?"
"Hey," she said sheepishly. Getting up from the couch, she indicated her cup of coffee. "Hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. What's up?" he asked quickly.
"I had to talk to you. I couldn't leave things the way they were," she said with a sigh.
"I thought you were busy this weekend," Grissom said cautiously, going to get himself some coffee.
"I am. I have to catch a flight back in the morning."
Setting his mug on the counter, Grissom approached her slowly, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. When she didn't pull back, he slid his hands down her arms, then to her waist, pulling her into a hug. She pressed against him briefly, before pulling back.
Grissom followed her to the couch, both resting one leg on the couch so they could face the other. He looked at her in surprise when she pulled her journal out of her bag.
"Here," she said simply, holding the book out to him.
"What?" he asked in confusion, not taking the book.
"I want you to read it."
"What?"
Sara gave him a sweet smile at his openly baffled expression.
"I want you to read this. I don't have any secrets from you, Grissom. I told Kane he could discuss my case with you. Anything you want to know, anything that can make this easier on you, I'll do for you. Here," she said, presenting him with the journal again.
The tip of Grissom's tongue peaked out between his pursed lips as he regarded the book. It was a tempting offer. It would give him valuable insight into Sara's concerns and fears. Her darkest secrets. Things she hadn't felt comfortable telling him.
"No."
"What?"
It was Grissom's turn to smile at her surprise.
"I'm not going to read your journal, Sara. If there's something you want me to know, I want you to tell me. Personally," he said kindly. "You don't have to give up your privacy for me. I can't ask that, and I certainly don't expect it."
"You're not violating my privacy if I tell you to read it," she said, a hint of a smile on her face.
"If there's anything you want me to know, you can tell me."
"Grissom," she said, giving her head a shake. "Whatever you saw in here before freaked you out."
"It didn't 'freak' me out," he contradicted mildly.
"You always bribe desk clerks to find out where people are staying?" Sara teased.
"No. But I don't 'freak'. 'Overreact' would be a better term," he said.
"Fine. Overreacted. But the result was the same. You chased me down," she sighed, breaking the levity.
"I'm sorry about that. It wouldn't happen again."
"It can't."
Grissom watched her intently. Her response had been very low, but carried a magnitude of pain. Reaching over, he took the journal, and set it on the coffee table. Moving closer, he took her hands in his own.
"Sara?"
"I need you, Grissom," she whispered. "You have no idea how much it helps knowing you're here for me. But I have to be able to trust you. That's the only thing that makes it possible for me to be here."
"We don't have to be here. If coming back to Vegas is too rough, Sara, don't do it. Not for me. I'll go to California."
"For a day at a time? We can't keep up a relationship that way," she said with a smile. "We need to be together."
Grissom squeezed her hands before getting up. Walking over to his desk, he shifted piles of paper until he found the sheet he was looking for. Sitting back beside Sara he showed her the blank request form for a leave-of-absence.
"I can take some time off. We can stay in California if you want. Or we could take a long vacation somewhere. Maybe go whale watching in the Pacific Northwest," he offered, thinking she'd like that. She liked animals. When Sara stared at him, her mouth open slightly, he started to get nervous. "Is that a good speechless or a bad speechless?"
"I'm not sure," she said, grinning widely, reaching over to take his hand. "That's sweet. Really. But I don't want you to do that. You've sacrificed enough already, Grissom."
"If it helps you, I don't mind. I'll take a leave. I'll take another job. I'll move. Whatever it takes, Sara."
"I have to come back, Grissom," she said, looking down at their joined hands.
"Why?"
"I can't let this beat me," she said hotly. "I can't. I'm not some sort of mental case. I want my life back, Grissom. I want to go back to a job I love. I want to be with my friends."
"You still can. There's no time limit. Don't rush it, honey. Just tell me how I can help."
She smiled sweetly, giving his hand a squeeze. "Trust me, please? If I say I need space, give it to me. I'm not trying to avoid you. I'm trying to avoid a fight. There're still times I need to be alone. To get my act together."
He nodded sheepishly. "I'll try to be better. I don't want you to regret ever being with me."
"I can't imagine that ever happening," she said, leaning her head against the back of the couch.
"Good," he smiled. "What time does your flight leave?"
"At 4 a.m."
"Sara," he said sternly, shaking his head. He shifted so his back was resting against the couch, and held out his arm to her. "You should get some rest. Even you need to sleep. It sounds like you're going to be busy all weekend."
Sara let go of his hand, sliding closer to him. Grissom went to wrap his arm around her shoulder, but looked up in surprise when she swung a leg over so she straddled him. She smirked as she undid the tie to his robe.
"Maybe you should get me in bed, then," she said before moving in to kiss him.
TBC