Grissom stood glued to the spot where Sara had left him. She was long gone from his office and if he didn't react soon, it would be too late. Before he knew what was happening, his feet and legs moved of their own accord and he was running after her. He caught up with her in the parking lot, just as she was about to open the door of her Yukon. "Sara, wait!" he shouted, not caring if anyone heard his desperate plea.
"What!" she shouted angrily, turning around in one swift movement and defiantly meeting his gaze. "You gonna crush me some more?"
Grissom looked down at his feet. "No," he whispered softly. "I'm sorry," he looked up to meet her gaze. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Sara," he said honestly.
"You wanna know what the worst part is, Grissom?" she asked tearfully. "That you keep doing it again and again. You suck me in by acting all friendly and flirty, then when you decide that you've had enough, you pretend that I don't exist anymore," she took a deep breath, putting some more distance between them. "You get a kick out of hurting me, don't you?" she said accusingly, a lonely tear rolling down her cheek. She furiously wiped it away with her sleeve.
"That's not what I was talking about," Grissom managed to say, while taking a hesitant step towards her.
Sara defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'm sick of your games."
"Sara," said Grissom, reaching out gently to place a hand on her arm.
His hand however, did not get a chance to stay there as she pulled away forcefully. "Don't touch me," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't ever touch me again," she spat at him, her voice full of anger. She moved to open the door of her Yukon, only to have it slammed shut by Grissom. She spun around to face him, her fury clearly showing on her face.
He leaned forward, and pressed her against the car forcefully, his body leaning heavily against hers. "You're not listening to me!" he growled. A touch of fear crept into Sara's eyes and he backed away a little, suddenly realising how overpowering he was being. "I need to talk to you," he pleaded, his voice becoming soft. "I'm so sorry about what happened back there, I really wanted to kiss you....I still do. But we both know that it was neither the time, nor the place."
Sara looked up at him, her eyes full of unshed tears. "Will there ever be a right time for us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Grissom smiled sadly. "I honestly don't know, Sara," he said, tentatively taking a step closer to her. "But I promise I'll do everything I can to make things right," he added, feeling her body tense when he pulled her into his arms.
She resisted his embrace at first, still feeling confused by everything that had just happened. When she realised that he wasn't going to let go of her, she started to relax and draped her arms loosely around his waist. She buried her head in his chest, and inhaled his masculine scent.
Grissom enjoyed the sensation of holding her in his arms, and smiled into her hair when she pulled him closer. They stayed this way for a while, both realising that they had a lot to resolve, but for now, this was enough.
Grissom was the first to pull away, an unanswered question lingering on his lips. "Are we gonna be okay?" he asked softly.
Sara smiled and kissed his cheek. "I think so," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. She reluctantly let go of him and got into her car. As she looked up, their eyes met and a multitude of unspoken thoughts passed between them. Knowing that one of them had to make a move, he mouthed the words "Goodnight" and gave her a small smile. "Goodnight," she mouthed back and slowly drove away.
* * * * * * * * * * *
December 14th, 10.45 p.m.
Grissom walked into his office just before the start of shift, his arms full of medium sized brown boxes. He nonchalantly threw his briefcase onto the couch, casting a glance at the huge Christmas tree sitting in the corner of his already cramped office. He made his way towards the break room, juggling the boxes as he went.
Half an hour later, the nightshift, including Greg, sat gathered around the table in the break room. Each one of them was holding a brown box in their hands. They all looked expectantly at Grissom, waiting for him to explain what was going on.
"I'm sure you're all wondering what the boxes are for," he said, looking around the room. "In order to maintain a degree of secrecy, I want each of you to place your gift into a box and then give it to me, to be placed in the tree."
Greg raised his arm, trying to catch Grissom's attention. "But how will we know which present is which?" asked the young man with the funny clothes.
Sara giggled at Grissom's groan and he shot her a bossy look. "No giggling allowed, Sidle," he said in mock seriousness. He turned back to Greg and shook his head. "If you hadn't interrupted me so rudely, I would have told you," he sighed. "As I was saying," he said, casting a glance at Sara, "use the computer to make a label for your gift and stick it to the top of the box," he managed to finish.
Grissom was about to leave the room when Catherine called him back. "Assignments?" she asked amused.
Grissom turned around, a huge smile on his face. "Right," he sighed dramatically and sat back down. "Christmas is messing with my brain," he grumbled. Noticing the looks from his coworkers, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What?"
Sara chuckled. "I never thought the great and wise Gil Grissom would let something as simple as Christmas mess with his brain," she said in a highly amused voice.
"Watch your mouth, Sidle," Grissom growled playfully, smiling when she grinned back at him.
Catherine watched the interaction between the two CSI's with amused interest. "Well, well, well," she muttered under her breath.
Grissom turned his head in her direction. "Care to share with the rest of the class?" he asked, not really surprised when she didn't answer. Subtleness had never been Catherine's forte.
"Okay, if we're all done talking, I'll hand out assignments." He passed a piece of paper to Warrick. "Burglary at a liquor store. Nick and Catherine, you've got a DB at the Monaco," he ordered. He looked at Sara, an unanswered question in her eyes. "As for you, young lady, you're with me. I've got something special," he said mysteriously. "Good luck everyone," he said, rising from his chair, totally oblivious to the glances being traded by the others in the room. "Young lady?" mouthed Nick to Catherine, raising his eyebrows.
Sara followed him out of the room. "What are you up to?" she asked him curiously.
"Follow me and you'll see," he replied.
Sara followed him out to the parking lot and was surprised when he opened the trunk of his Tahoe. Grissom took out a small box and handed it to Sara, keeping a large box for himself. They walked back to his office in companionable silence, and found five similar small boxes standing under the tree. "Can you put the small ones on my desk please?" Grissom asked. Sara complied and helped him to open the bigger box. It was filled with beautiful Christmas ornaments.
"Is this my special assignment?" Sara asked, while taking out a beautiful angel in plaster.
"You and I get to decorate the tree and open the boxes." He looked at her as she traced the angel with her fingers. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Sara nodded. "It sure is. Where did you get it?"
"I can't really remember. I haven't put up a tree in over ten years, and I found that box going to waste in my attic," he said, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"Isn't it sad that you don't have a tree in your house?"
He shrugged. "I've never really cared about Christmas as an adult," he said despondently.
"Why?" she paused to look at him, gauging his reaction. "I mean, it's a beautiful holiday."
"I guess I never had anyone important enough to share it with," he whispered softly. 'Besides you,' he added mentally.
To say Sara was surprised at his sudden outburst of honesty was the understatement of the year. He was starting to open up to her, which was a really big step for him. "I'm sorry," she said gently, while putting a comforting hand on his arm.
"I guess I'm used to it," Grissom said matter-of-factly.
"That's why you wanna go to the convention, isn't it?"
Grissom sighed. "There's something you need to know." He took a deep breath and met her questioning look. "I lied to you," he added.
"What do you mean?"
"I lied when I said there wasn't a flight back until Christmas day," Grissom managed to get out. He swallowed hard, waiting for her reaction.
"Gris," she simply said.
The muscles in his jaw tightened. "There were several flights back on Christmas Eve," he continued.
Sara was confused at his behaviour. "But why?" she stopped her question as she noticed the look on his face. His heart was on his sleeve.
"I didn't feel like being alone on Christmas Eve," he mumbled in one breath.
"What did you say?" she asked, a smile playing around her lips.
"I think you heard me," he choked out. When he saw her staring at him with a raised eyebrow, he decided the time was right to put everything out in the open. "I just wanted to spend Christmas with you," he said calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Sara's surprise at his admission, showed openly on her face, she hadn't seen that one coming. "You could have just asked me to spend Christmas with you, I don't bite you know," she said in a soft and caring voice.
"I know Sara, but...I didn't know how to ask you," he paused, searching for the right words. "Things have been so strained between us these past few months and.....well, I didn't want to hurt your feelings," he admitted, taking her hand in his.
"How would you do that?" she asked, a little confused.
"You would have expected more, and at the end of the day, you would have been disappointed," he said candidly.
She understood where he was going with this and smiled; a genuine Sara Sidle smile. "So you just thought it was easier to trick me into spending Christmas with you?" she stated.
"Yeah," he smiled sheepishly. "Are you mad at me?" he asked.
"Of course not," she let go of his hand and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. Her lips lingering longer than necessary. "You're awfully sweet, Gil Grissom."
He turned to meet her gaze and frowned as he saw her making a face at him. "What?" he asked, surprised.
"Your beard is making me itchy. You should really consider shaving it you know."
"I take it you don't like it," he said with a hint of humour in his voice.
"Nope. You're cuter without it," she said seductively.
"So if I ever want to kiss you, I have to get rid of it?" he blushed at his honesty. It was more of a statement than a question.
"You'd better believe it, bugman," she replied sweetly.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What!" she shouted angrily, turning around in one swift movement and defiantly meeting his gaze. "You gonna crush me some more?"
Grissom looked down at his feet. "No," he whispered softly. "I'm sorry," he looked up to meet her gaze. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Sara," he said honestly.
"You wanna know what the worst part is, Grissom?" she asked tearfully. "That you keep doing it again and again. You suck me in by acting all friendly and flirty, then when you decide that you've had enough, you pretend that I don't exist anymore," she took a deep breath, putting some more distance between them. "You get a kick out of hurting me, don't you?" she said accusingly, a lonely tear rolling down her cheek. She furiously wiped it away with her sleeve.
"That's not what I was talking about," Grissom managed to say, while taking a hesitant step towards her.
Sara defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'm sick of your games."
"Sara," said Grissom, reaching out gently to place a hand on her arm.
His hand however, did not get a chance to stay there as she pulled away forcefully. "Don't touch me," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't ever touch me again," she spat at him, her voice full of anger. She moved to open the door of her Yukon, only to have it slammed shut by Grissom. She spun around to face him, her fury clearly showing on her face.
He leaned forward, and pressed her against the car forcefully, his body leaning heavily against hers. "You're not listening to me!" he growled. A touch of fear crept into Sara's eyes and he backed away a little, suddenly realising how overpowering he was being. "I need to talk to you," he pleaded, his voice becoming soft. "I'm so sorry about what happened back there, I really wanted to kiss you....I still do. But we both know that it was neither the time, nor the place."
Sara looked up at him, her eyes full of unshed tears. "Will there ever be a right time for us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Grissom smiled sadly. "I honestly don't know, Sara," he said, tentatively taking a step closer to her. "But I promise I'll do everything I can to make things right," he added, feeling her body tense when he pulled her into his arms.
She resisted his embrace at first, still feeling confused by everything that had just happened. When she realised that he wasn't going to let go of her, she started to relax and draped her arms loosely around his waist. She buried her head in his chest, and inhaled his masculine scent.
Grissom enjoyed the sensation of holding her in his arms, and smiled into her hair when she pulled him closer. They stayed this way for a while, both realising that they had a lot to resolve, but for now, this was enough.
Grissom was the first to pull away, an unanswered question lingering on his lips. "Are we gonna be okay?" he asked softly.
Sara smiled and kissed his cheek. "I think so," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. She reluctantly let go of him and got into her car. As she looked up, their eyes met and a multitude of unspoken thoughts passed between them. Knowing that one of them had to make a move, he mouthed the words "Goodnight" and gave her a small smile. "Goodnight," she mouthed back and slowly drove away.
* * * * * * * * * * *
December 14th, 10.45 p.m.
Grissom walked into his office just before the start of shift, his arms full of medium sized brown boxes. He nonchalantly threw his briefcase onto the couch, casting a glance at the huge Christmas tree sitting in the corner of his already cramped office. He made his way towards the break room, juggling the boxes as he went.
Half an hour later, the nightshift, including Greg, sat gathered around the table in the break room. Each one of them was holding a brown box in their hands. They all looked expectantly at Grissom, waiting for him to explain what was going on.
"I'm sure you're all wondering what the boxes are for," he said, looking around the room. "In order to maintain a degree of secrecy, I want each of you to place your gift into a box and then give it to me, to be placed in the tree."
Greg raised his arm, trying to catch Grissom's attention. "But how will we know which present is which?" asked the young man with the funny clothes.
Sara giggled at Grissom's groan and he shot her a bossy look. "No giggling allowed, Sidle," he said in mock seriousness. He turned back to Greg and shook his head. "If you hadn't interrupted me so rudely, I would have told you," he sighed. "As I was saying," he said, casting a glance at Sara, "use the computer to make a label for your gift and stick it to the top of the box," he managed to finish.
Grissom was about to leave the room when Catherine called him back. "Assignments?" she asked amused.
Grissom turned around, a huge smile on his face. "Right," he sighed dramatically and sat back down. "Christmas is messing with my brain," he grumbled. Noticing the looks from his coworkers, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What?"
Sara chuckled. "I never thought the great and wise Gil Grissom would let something as simple as Christmas mess with his brain," she said in a highly amused voice.
"Watch your mouth, Sidle," Grissom growled playfully, smiling when she grinned back at him.
Catherine watched the interaction between the two CSI's with amused interest. "Well, well, well," she muttered under her breath.
Grissom turned his head in her direction. "Care to share with the rest of the class?" he asked, not really surprised when she didn't answer. Subtleness had never been Catherine's forte.
"Okay, if we're all done talking, I'll hand out assignments." He passed a piece of paper to Warrick. "Burglary at a liquor store. Nick and Catherine, you've got a DB at the Monaco," he ordered. He looked at Sara, an unanswered question in her eyes. "As for you, young lady, you're with me. I've got something special," he said mysteriously. "Good luck everyone," he said, rising from his chair, totally oblivious to the glances being traded by the others in the room. "Young lady?" mouthed Nick to Catherine, raising his eyebrows.
Sara followed him out of the room. "What are you up to?" she asked him curiously.
"Follow me and you'll see," he replied.
Sara followed him out to the parking lot and was surprised when he opened the trunk of his Tahoe. Grissom took out a small box and handed it to Sara, keeping a large box for himself. They walked back to his office in companionable silence, and found five similar small boxes standing under the tree. "Can you put the small ones on my desk please?" Grissom asked. Sara complied and helped him to open the bigger box. It was filled with beautiful Christmas ornaments.
"Is this my special assignment?" Sara asked, while taking out a beautiful angel in plaster.
"You and I get to decorate the tree and open the boxes." He looked at her as she traced the angel with her fingers. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Sara nodded. "It sure is. Where did you get it?"
"I can't really remember. I haven't put up a tree in over ten years, and I found that box going to waste in my attic," he said, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"Isn't it sad that you don't have a tree in your house?"
He shrugged. "I've never really cared about Christmas as an adult," he said despondently.
"Why?" she paused to look at him, gauging his reaction. "I mean, it's a beautiful holiday."
"I guess I never had anyone important enough to share it with," he whispered softly. 'Besides you,' he added mentally.
To say Sara was surprised at his sudden outburst of honesty was the understatement of the year. He was starting to open up to her, which was a really big step for him. "I'm sorry," she said gently, while putting a comforting hand on his arm.
"I guess I'm used to it," Grissom said matter-of-factly.
"That's why you wanna go to the convention, isn't it?"
Grissom sighed. "There's something you need to know." He took a deep breath and met her questioning look. "I lied to you," he added.
"What do you mean?"
"I lied when I said there wasn't a flight back until Christmas day," Grissom managed to get out. He swallowed hard, waiting for her reaction.
"Gris," she simply said.
The muscles in his jaw tightened. "There were several flights back on Christmas Eve," he continued.
Sara was confused at his behaviour. "But why?" she stopped her question as she noticed the look on his face. His heart was on his sleeve.
"I didn't feel like being alone on Christmas Eve," he mumbled in one breath.
"What did you say?" she asked, a smile playing around her lips.
"I think you heard me," he choked out. When he saw her staring at him with a raised eyebrow, he decided the time was right to put everything out in the open. "I just wanted to spend Christmas with you," he said calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Sara's surprise at his admission, showed openly on her face, she hadn't seen that one coming. "You could have just asked me to spend Christmas with you, I don't bite you know," she said in a soft and caring voice.
"I know Sara, but...I didn't know how to ask you," he paused, searching for the right words. "Things have been so strained between us these past few months and.....well, I didn't want to hurt your feelings," he admitted, taking her hand in his.
"How would you do that?" she asked, a little confused.
"You would have expected more, and at the end of the day, you would have been disappointed," he said candidly.
She understood where he was going with this and smiled; a genuine Sara Sidle smile. "So you just thought it was easier to trick me into spending Christmas with you?" she stated.
"Yeah," he smiled sheepishly. "Are you mad at me?" he asked.
"Of course not," she let go of his hand and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. Her lips lingering longer than necessary. "You're awfully sweet, Gil Grissom."
He turned to meet her gaze and frowned as he saw her making a face at him. "What?" he asked, surprised.
"Your beard is making me itchy. You should really consider shaving it you know."
"I take it you don't like it," he said with a hint of humour in his voice.
"Nope. You're cuter without it," she said seductively.
"So if I ever want to kiss you, I have to get rid of it?" he blushed at his honesty. It was more of a statement than a question.
"You'd better believe it, bugman," she replied sweetly.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
