Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to, I don't own any of these characters.
Note: This will probably be the longest chapter - I got a bit carried away. I'd appreciate any criticism if you think that there's anything that could be improved, changed, etc. Thanks guys!
Chapter Three
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"Wow," said Sara as Grissom's car pulled up to his townhouse, "cookie- cutter home."
"Excuse me?" Grissom replied. He was surprised when she finally spoke after their thirty-minute car trip to his house, as they had sat in silence for the majority of the ride, with Sara staring out the window, watching the lights of Vegas quickly zoom by.
"Oh, you know, a cookie-cutter home. You live in the middle of a group of five townhouses, each one exactly identical to the other." Grissom looked up at his house and saw that she was right. His house was the same as the others, and he was slightly surprised that he had never noticed it before.
"Are they all the same inside as well?" Sara asked as she climbed out of the car. Grissom mirrored her movements, and soon they were standing side by side at the back of his car, Sara waiting for Grissom to open the boot so that she could get her bag out, Grissom engrossed in thoughts of what his neighbours homes were like.
"I don't know," Grissom replied, opening the boot, "I've never been inside any but my own." Sara raised one long, slim eyebrow in her customary manner and looked at him quizzically. "Come on," he said as he took Sara by the elbow and motioned him towards his house, "Let's go in, it's getting late."
- - - - - - - - - -
As Grissom slowly unlocked the door to his townhouse, his head was suddenly filled with an odd thought of weather or not his house was clean. 'Why am I thinking this?' Grissom asked himself. 'It's not like she'd care anyway, she's only staying one night, and then going straight to work.' Work. The word hit him straight away. He wouldn't be able to get away from Sara as he could at work. There, he could shut his office door, or put her on assignments that had nothing much to do with him. But here, in his home, there was nowhere to hide where she couldn't find him, nowhere to go when he wanted to be by himself. "One night, Gil. That's all it is. One night." He quietly said to himself as he opened the door. "Well, here it is," Grissom said as he stepped to the side of the doorframe and motioned with his right hand for Sara to come in. She squeezed in beside him, her bag gently knocking him on the knees as she did so. 'Damn. I should have taken her bag. That would have been the gentlemanly like thing to do.' This thought was soon taken out of his head as Sara began to speak.
"It's nice," she said, "very . Grissom." Sara walked around his living room, looking at his books on the bookshelf and examining the butterflies and moths in cases on his walls. "Mmm," she murmured as she looked at one particular moth. It was a creamy white with a large black dot on each wing, "I know this one." Grissom walked over, interested in what she had to say. "It's a IO moth? That's right isn't it?"
"How did you know that?"
"Remember about a year ago we had that case with a woman who disappeared at a magic show, and you found a moth in the magicians basement, just like this one." Sara looked straight at him, and then back to the moth. Grissom was amazed.
"You remember that?"
"I remember everything you say," Sara said softly, looking away from Grissom. They were silent for a few seconds. Grissom didn't know what to say, and neither did Sara. He didn't want to be the first to speak. Sara's tone quickly changed. "So, what about the grand tour?"
"Pardon?" she had caught Grissom off guard.
"Aren't you going to show me around your house?"
"Oh, yes, sorry. Well, this is the living room."
"That I can see," replied Sara
"Over there is the bathroom, kitchen, spare room, and my room," while he was speaking he gestured around, until he mentioned his bedroom, and his voice became quieter. Never in his entire life did he ever think that he would talk to Sara about his bedroom, let alone show her around his house.
"So, I guess that I'm sleeping in the spare room then?" said Sara, turning her question into a statement.
"Um, yes. Here, I'll show it to you." And then he opened the door.
"Grissom," she said, "this isn't a bedroom." She was right. He had been using the room as a storage area, a place to keep old case files. There were folders in boxes all over the room, and multiple filing cabinets. "Is there even a bed in here?" he could tell that she was annoyed now. Sara had come all this way, all the way over to his townhouse, only to find that there wasn't a spare room like he had told her, only a storage area.
"There's one in here somewhere," Grissom said. He had advanced into the room and begun to put away folders.
"Listen, I don't want you to spend all night cleaning up just so I can sleep here one night and then move on."
"No, no it's fine, see here's the bed."
"Grissom" said Sara slowly walking towards him, her long legs carefully stepping over piles of case files.
"I'll just get you some sheets and then -"
"Grissom." Sara had interrupted him, "it's fine, really. I'll just go to a motel or something, like you suggested." She was standing beside him now watching him tidy up. He obviously wasn't listening to her and continued to clear up. "Grissom!" she grabbed his forearm gently, her long fingers wrapping around his arm. He looked at her hand, and then up to her face. She spoke slowly and quietly now, looking into his eyes. "I'll just find somewhere else to go." Find somewhere else - her words burnt into him.
"No, Sara, don't go," he looked into her eyes, and she could see the concern he felt for her. "Stay." Sara sighed and her shoulders fell slightly. She had become stressed over the whole experience.
"Fine." she whispered, suddenly exhausted. A little over two hours had passed since Grissom had found her in the lab, and Sara was ready to go to sleep. Grissom could see her tiredness, and he felt it too.
"I have a couch and a bed," he said as he walked past her, out of the room. Sara followed and shut the door behind her. They were now back in the living room. "You can have the bed and I'll sleep on the couch."
"No, Grissom, that's stupid. It's your bed, I'm only here for one night, I'll take the couch." She moved over to it and sat down. "See, I'm right at home here on your couch. Nice and comfortable." She bounced up and down a few times as she said it, just to prove her point. Grissom walked over to the couch and sat down beside her.
"Sara," Grissom sighed, "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and you're obviously too tall to sleep here." He placed his large hand on top of hers and looked into her eyes.
"Is this some kind of sleazy pick up line you use on all the girls or -"
"Sara," he said in a reprimanding tone
"Sorry," she bluntly replied, "I was just joking."
"And I was being serious. Now we're both too tired to be arguing. Sleep in the bed." Sara could tell that he was being serious this time.
"Fine," she sighed as she got up and picked up her bag, which she had left at the front door. Sara began to walk over to his bedroom, "It's this room, right Griss?"
"Yes," he replied, and followed closely behind her as she wrapped her hand around the doorknob and turned. The door opened and Sara stepped in. She could see his large bed in front of her, covered in a red and brown dust cover. The red and the brown merged into one another and formed soft swirls. It was beautiful.
"Wow, Griss," said Sara as she went toward the bed and ran her fingers over the cover, "this is really." she paused, as if she was searching her mind for the right word. Sara looked at him ".beautiful." He watched as she sat down on the end and carefully traced one swirl with her finger. He saw how her hair fell over one side of her face, and the soft light from the street outside lit up her soft curls. He suddenly pulled himself back into reality and hastily stepped towards her.
"My Grandmother gave it to me right before she died. I never used it until recently, actually." Sara watched him sit down beside her, and began to stare at him intently, surprised that he was sharing a small part of the life that she knew so little about. Even when she knew Grissom in San Francisco, she hardly knew anything about his personal life. And now he was opening up. And it scared her slightly.
"Well, I like it." She said abruptly. "You should use it all the time." Grissom nodded in agreement, and stood up.
"It's getting late. You should probably get some sleep."
"Oh yeah," she replied, "Where's the bathroom again?"
"There's an ensuite through that door," Grissom said as he pointed, "it's the only bathroom with a shower, so if I come through while you're sleeping, don't be surprised."
"Ok," she said softly, "I'll get changed then."
"Have a good sleep," Grissom said as he closed the door behind him.
"I will!" Sara yelled back, unaware of how thin the doors were.
- - - - - - - - - -
As Sara slowly climbed into bed, she had to pinch herself to be convinced that she wasn't in a dream. Only yesterday she had told herself that she could never ever have a normal conversation with Grissom again, as he had been avoiding her for so long. She saw him in the corridor, but he always went into the next available room on some urgent business. Even when he handed out assignments, he didn't look her in the eye for more than two seconds. To Sara it appeared that he was deliberately avoiding her, and now, here she was in his townhouse, climbing into none other than his bed. She lay down in between the sheets and breathed in a familiar smell. Grissom. He was surrounding her, enveloping her, and as she rubbed her cheek against his pillow she sighed softly and closed her eyes.
- - - - - - - - - -
Grissom paced around his lounge room. 'Dammit,' he thought. He had left his pyjamas under his pillow, and didn't want to wake Sara. In fact, he didn't want to see Sara in his bed, her hair spilled over his pillows, eyes shut, slowly but rhythmically breathing. "What else can I do," Grissom said out loud. He walked over to the door and knocked quietly. "Sara," he whispered. 'No response. Now what do I do?' He tried again, this time a little louder. "Sara." 'Ok," Grissom thought to himself, 'here goes nothing.' He opened the door slowly and quietly. The light from outside entered through a small crack in his black-out blinds. It was now light outside, however because of the graveyard shift, his body was telling him that it was nighttime. Grissom could see the outline of her body in the dim light. She was asleep. He quietly walked towards the bed, and slipped his hand under one of the pillows. "Dammit," he muttered, "must be the other pillow." Grissom walked around to the other side of the bed and looked down at Sara. He whispered her name. She didn't move. 'God she sleeps heavily' he thought, as he reached down and gently touched her arm. "Sara." This time she murmured and rolled over. He tried again. "Sara, my pyjamas are under your pillow. Please wake up."
"Griss," she said slowly and quietly.
"Oh, you're awake. Good" he spoke in a normal tone. "My pyjamas are under your pillow, so if you could just lift your head for one second." she moved to the other side of the bed and grunted. "Thankyou." he said to her and walked out of the room and shut the door.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Grissom," Sara whispered as she stuck her head out of the bathroom door. She tried again, this time a little louder. "Grissom." No response. 'He must still be asleep' she thought to herself, as she remembered walking past him, seeing him fast asleep on the couch. She had been looking for his linen closet to get a towel so that she could have a shower. Sara gingerly opened the door some more, and hugged her towel more tightly around herself. Ever since Grissom had told her to use lemons to remove the unfortunate smells that accompany her job, she had never gone without. 'Ok, here goes nothing,' she thought, and Sara stepped out of the bedroom, and bumped right into Grissom.
"Grissom!" Sara yelled in surprise.
"Sara, I didn't think that you were up yet." He then saw what she was wearing - a towel. Sara could see him looking her up and down, and pulled the towel more tightly to her chest.
"I was just looking for a lemon because I was having a shower, and I thought that you were still asleep because I called out to you, and you didn't answer, so I thought that you were asleep," she gushed, embarrassed being caught the way she was. Grissom stared at her in shock. "Oh look, there's one," she said, quickly moving towards his kitchen, "Ok, I'm having a shower, be back soon."
"Ok," Grissom replied, amazed that he had seen Sara drop her cool for a few seconds.
- - - - - - - - - -
As soon as Sara reached the bathroom she quickly shut the door and leaned against it, going over the events that had just occurred in her head. "Well, there's nothing I can do about it now," Sara said to herself, as she stepped into the shower, "it's all in the past. All in the past."
TO BE CONTINUED.
Note: This will probably be the longest chapter - I got a bit carried away. I'd appreciate any criticism if you think that there's anything that could be improved, changed, etc. Thanks guys!
Chapter Three
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
"Wow," said Sara as Grissom's car pulled up to his townhouse, "cookie- cutter home."
"Excuse me?" Grissom replied. He was surprised when she finally spoke after their thirty-minute car trip to his house, as they had sat in silence for the majority of the ride, with Sara staring out the window, watching the lights of Vegas quickly zoom by.
"Oh, you know, a cookie-cutter home. You live in the middle of a group of five townhouses, each one exactly identical to the other." Grissom looked up at his house and saw that she was right. His house was the same as the others, and he was slightly surprised that he had never noticed it before.
"Are they all the same inside as well?" Sara asked as she climbed out of the car. Grissom mirrored her movements, and soon they were standing side by side at the back of his car, Sara waiting for Grissom to open the boot so that she could get her bag out, Grissom engrossed in thoughts of what his neighbours homes were like.
"I don't know," Grissom replied, opening the boot, "I've never been inside any but my own." Sara raised one long, slim eyebrow in her customary manner and looked at him quizzically. "Come on," he said as he took Sara by the elbow and motioned him towards his house, "Let's go in, it's getting late."
- - - - - - - - - -
As Grissom slowly unlocked the door to his townhouse, his head was suddenly filled with an odd thought of weather or not his house was clean. 'Why am I thinking this?' Grissom asked himself. 'It's not like she'd care anyway, she's only staying one night, and then going straight to work.' Work. The word hit him straight away. He wouldn't be able to get away from Sara as he could at work. There, he could shut his office door, or put her on assignments that had nothing much to do with him. But here, in his home, there was nowhere to hide where she couldn't find him, nowhere to go when he wanted to be by himself. "One night, Gil. That's all it is. One night." He quietly said to himself as he opened the door. "Well, here it is," Grissom said as he stepped to the side of the doorframe and motioned with his right hand for Sara to come in. She squeezed in beside him, her bag gently knocking him on the knees as she did so. 'Damn. I should have taken her bag. That would have been the gentlemanly like thing to do.' This thought was soon taken out of his head as Sara began to speak.
"It's nice," she said, "very . Grissom." Sara walked around his living room, looking at his books on the bookshelf and examining the butterflies and moths in cases on his walls. "Mmm," she murmured as she looked at one particular moth. It was a creamy white with a large black dot on each wing, "I know this one." Grissom walked over, interested in what she had to say. "It's a IO moth? That's right isn't it?"
"How did you know that?"
"Remember about a year ago we had that case with a woman who disappeared at a magic show, and you found a moth in the magicians basement, just like this one." Sara looked straight at him, and then back to the moth. Grissom was amazed.
"You remember that?"
"I remember everything you say," Sara said softly, looking away from Grissom. They were silent for a few seconds. Grissom didn't know what to say, and neither did Sara. He didn't want to be the first to speak. Sara's tone quickly changed. "So, what about the grand tour?"
"Pardon?" she had caught Grissom off guard.
"Aren't you going to show me around your house?"
"Oh, yes, sorry. Well, this is the living room."
"That I can see," replied Sara
"Over there is the bathroom, kitchen, spare room, and my room," while he was speaking he gestured around, until he mentioned his bedroom, and his voice became quieter. Never in his entire life did he ever think that he would talk to Sara about his bedroom, let alone show her around his house.
"So, I guess that I'm sleeping in the spare room then?" said Sara, turning her question into a statement.
"Um, yes. Here, I'll show it to you." And then he opened the door.
"Grissom," she said, "this isn't a bedroom." She was right. He had been using the room as a storage area, a place to keep old case files. There were folders in boxes all over the room, and multiple filing cabinets. "Is there even a bed in here?" he could tell that she was annoyed now. Sara had come all this way, all the way over to his townhouse, only to find that there wasn't a spare room like he had told her, only a storage area.
"There's one in here somewhere," Grissom said. He had advanced into the room and begun to put away folders.
"Listen, I don't want you to spend all night cleaning up just so I can sleep here one night and then move on."
"No, no it's fine, see here's the bed."
"Grissom" said Sara slowly walking towards him, her long legs carefully stepping over piles of case files.
"I'll just get you some sheets and then -"
"Grissom." Sara had interrupted him, "it's fine, really. I'll just go to a motel or something, like you suggested." She was standing beside him now watching him tidy up. He obviously wasn't listening to her and continued to clear up. "Grissom!" she grabbed his forearm gently, her long fingers wrapping around his arm. He looked at her hand, and then up to her face. She spoke slowly and quietly now, looking into his eyes. "I'll just find somewhere else to go." Find somewhere else - her words burnt into him.
"No, Sara, don't go," he looked into her eyes, and she could see the concern he felt for her. "Stay." Sara sighed and her shoulders fell slightly. She had become stressed over the whole experience.
"Fine." she whispered, suddenly exhausted. A little over two hours had passed since Grissom had found her in the lab, and Sara was ready to go to sleep. Grissom could see her tiredness, and he felt it too.
"I have a couch and a bed," he said as he walked past her, out of the room. Sara followed and shut the door behind her. They were now back in the living room. "You can have the bed and I'll sleep on the couch."
"No, Grissom, that's stupid. It's your bed, I'm only here for one night, I'll take the couch." She moved over to it and sat down. "See, I'm right at home here on your couch. Nice and comfortable." She bounced up and down a few times as she said it, just to prove her point. Grissom walked over to the couch and sat down beside her.
"Sara," Grissom sighed, "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and you're obviously too tall to sleep here." He placed his large hand on top of hers and looked into her eyes.
"Is this some kind of sleazy pick up line you use on all the girls or -"
"Sara," he said in a reprimanding tone
"Sorry," she bluntly replied, "I was just joking."
"And I was being serious. Now we're both too tired to be arguing. Sleep in the bed." Sara could tell that he was being serious this time.
"Fine," she sighed as she got up and picked up her bag, which she had left at the front door. Sara began to walk over to his bedroom, "It's this room, right Griss?"
"Yes," he replied, and followed closely behind her as she wrapped her hand around the doorknob and turned. The door opened and Sara stepped in. She could see his large bed in front of her, covered in a red and brown dust cover. The red and the brown merged into one another and formed soft swirls. It was beautiful.
"Wow, Griss," said Sara as she went toward the bed and ran her fingers over the cover, "this is really." she paused, as if she was searching her mind for the right word. Sara looked at him ".beautiful." He watched as she sat down on the end and carefully traced one swirl with her finger. He saw how her hair fell over one side of her face, and the soft light from the street outside lit up her soft curls. He suddenly pulled himself back into reality and hastily stepped towards her.
"My Grandmother gave it to me right before she died. I never used it until recently, actually." Sara watched him sit down beside her, and began to stare at him intently, surprised that he was sharing a small part of the life that she knew so little about. Even when she knew Grissom in San Francisco, she hardly knew anything about his personal life. And now he was opening up. And it scared her slightly.
"Well, I like it." She said abruptly. "You should use it all the time." Grissom nodded in agreement, and stood up.
"It's getting late. You should probably get some sleep."
"Oh yeah," she replied, "Where's the bathroom again?"
"There's an ensuite through that door," Grissom said as he pointed, "it's the only bathroom with a shower, so if I come through while you're sleeping, don't be surprised."
"Ok," she said softly, "I'll get changed then."
"Have a good sleep," Grissom said as he closed the door behind him.
"I will!" Sara yelled back, unaware of how thin the doors were.
- - - - - - - - - -
As Sara slowly climbed into bed, she had to pinch herself to be convinced that she wasn't in a dream. Only yesterday she had told herself that she could never ever have a normal conversation with Grissom again, as he had been avoiding her for so long. She saw him in the corridor, but he always went into the next available room on some urgent business. Even when he handed out assignments, he didn't look her in the eye for more than two seconds. To Sara it appeared that he was deliberately avoiding her, and now, here she was in his townhouse, climbing into none other than his bed. She lay down in between the sheets and breathed in a familiar smell. Grissom. He was surrounding her, enveloping her, and as she rubbed her cheek against his pillow she sighed softly and closed her eyes.
- - - - - - - - - -
Grissom paced around his lounge room. 'Dammit,' he thought. He had left his pyjamas under his pillow, and didn't want to wake Sara. In fact, he didn't want to see Sara in his bed, her hair spilled over his pillows, eyes shut, slowly but rhythmically breathing. "What else can I do," Grissom said out loud. He walked over to the door and knocked quietly. "Sara," he whispered. 'No response. Now what do I do?' He tried again, this time a little louder. "Sara." 'Ok," Grissom thought to himself, 'here goes nothing.' He opened the door slowly and quietly. The light from outside entered through a small crack in his black-out blinds. It was now light outside, however because of the graveyard shift, his body was telling him that it was nighttime. Grissom could see the outline of her body in the dim light. She was asleep. He quietly walked towards the bed, and slipped his hand under one of the pillows. "Dammit," he muttered, "must be the other pillow." Grissom walked around to the other side of the bed and looked down at Sara. He whispered her name. She didn't move. 'God she sleeps heavily' he thought, as he reached down and gently touched her arm. "Sara." This time she murmured and rolled over. He tried again. "Sara, my pyjamas are under your pillow. Please wake up."
"Griss," she said slowly and quietly.
"Oh, you're awake. Good" he spoke in a normal tone. "My pyjamas are under your pillow, so if you could just lift your head for one second." she moved to the other side of the bed and grunted. "Thankyou." he said to her and walked out of the room and shut the door.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Grissom," Sara whispered as she stuck her head out of the bathroom door. She tried again, this time a little louder. "Grissom." No response. 'He must still be asleep' she thought to herself, as she remembered walking past him, seeing him fast asleep on the couch. She had been looking for his linen closet to get a towel so that she could have a shower. Sara gingerly opened the door some more, and hugged her towel more tightly around herself. Ever since Grissom had told her to use lemons to remove the unfortunate smells that accompany her job, she had never gone without. 'Ok, here goes nothing,' she thought, and Sara stepped out of the bedroom, and bumped right into Grissom.
"Grissom!" Sara yelled in surprise.
"Sara, I didn't think that you were up yet." He then saw what she was wearing - a towel. Sara could see him looking her up and down, and pulled the towel more tightly to her chest.
"I was just looking for a lemon because I was having a shower, and I thought that you were still asleep because I called out to you, and you didn't answer, so I thought that you were asleep," she gushed, embarrassed being caught the way she was. Grissom stared at her in shock. "Oh look, there's one," she said, quickly moving towards his kitchen, "Ok, I'm having a shower, be back soon."
"Ok," Grissom replied, amazed that he had seen Sara drop her cool for a few seconds.
- - - - - - - - - -
As soon as Sara reached the bathroom she quickly shut the door and leaned against it, going over the events that had just occurred in her head. "Well, there's nothing I can do about it now," Sara said to herself, as she stepped into the shower, "it's all in the past. All in the past."
TO BE CONTINUED.
