Spoilers: All of season four is referenced elliptically, but there's nothing specific. If you're not up to date on the current season, don't read any further.
A/N: This came from the spoiler last summer that indicated that Grissom would chase Sara. Since it hasn't happened so far, and brain couldn't let it go, here's what I came up with. Thank you, Maddy, for the use of your title.
*^*^*^*^*^*
Gil Grissom switched off the last lamp, the only remaining illumination in his townhouse coming from the flickering screen of the television. He stretched out on the couch, deep in thought. The volume he kept low; he found this particular documentary interesting, but he had seen it last week. This was his lifestyle, and it had contented him for many years. Why did it feel so hollow now?
He squinted his eyes, hoping that it would help him see more clearly the photograph he held in the dim light. It wasn't as if he didn't have it memorized; she stood between Greg and Archie, her smile brighter than the sun. It had been taken at an employee picnic two years ago. Grissom had picked this snapshot out of the packet of photos and tucked it away in a drawer in his home. He wondered how she would react if she knew he kept photographs of her.
He was hit with an epiphany as he sat alone in the near darkness: He didn't want to be alone anymore. How could he settle for this empty existence when the woman he loved wanted, for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom, to be with him? His insecurity had kept her from him for far too long already.
Fear remained in his heart that what she felt for him was merely an infatuation, and that when the infatuation faded and she began to see him for who he really was, she would reject him. He wasn't sure if he could survive the pain of such a scenario, but tonight he realized that he was made desperately unhappy by the widening gulf between them. And by all appearances, so was she. Sometimes she appeared a mere shell of her former self. That realization pained him. He needed her in his life—he needed her in his arms. And, since he knew he could not handle the possibility of losing her, he would do everything in his power to make her happy.
With a sigh, he reminded himself that he was putting the cart before the horse. By the time you figure it out, you really could be too late. Was he too late? Since the moment she had burned those words into his brain, she had noticeably distanced herself from him. He admitted to himself that his behavior toward her had done nothing to endear him to her. He had treated her unfairly. Was she still interested? He stared at the telephone, fighting the temptation to call her at work. There was simply no way he could approach this over the telephone. They were far too awkward around one another for that. He focused on the documentary, and sleep slowly overtook him.
*^*^*^*^*^*
By the next evening, Grissom had formulated a plan. He knew that neither of them was ready for him to boldly and abruptly change the charted course of denial and enforced distance. The subtle approach would be better, he decided. Gradual reconnection was the key to rebuilding their friendship and moving on to the next level together. He intended to set his plan into motion immediately by assigning Sara to work with him.
As he sat behind his desk, he pored over the night's cases. A breaking and entering? Warrick. A hit and run accident on Las Vegas Boulevard? It screamed Catherine and Nick. A jumper with a bullet hole? Perfect. Satisfied, he picked up the stack of papers and headed for the break room.
"All I'm saying is that it's possible." Nick's voice rang out as Grissom entered the room. Grissom's eyes scanned the room and quickly found Sara, who was reading a magazine.
"Come on, man," Warrick responded skeptically. "You can't possibly believe that anyone ever woke up in a bathtub full of ice with his kidneys missing. It's an urban legend."
"I didn't say it happened. Just that it's possible."
"It's not possible, Nick." Grissom laid the papers on the table. "If you believe that, do you also believe in spontaneous combustion?"
Sara felt herself begin to blush, but covered immediately. Warrick glanced at her with a slight smile, remembering back to their case involving the mysterious combustion of a woman. Sara had been a different person then: vibrant, enthusiastic, and eager to test a theory.
Grissom gave Nick, Catherine and Warrick their assignments and they filed out of the room. Sara looked up at him expectantly. Where was her case? Was she on his shit list again? What had she done this time? After a few moments, she asked, "Grissom?"
"Huh? Oh, you're with me," he answered cheerfully. "Ready?"
"Sure."
They arrived at the high-rise apartment building to find Jim Brass waiting for them. As they approached, he pointed over his shoulders at the crumpled body on the concrete. "This one should be fun," he said dryly. "Guy jumps from the roof. First cop on the scene goes to check him out, and surprise! He's got a bullet through his chest."
"So did he jump, or was he tossed?" Sara wondered aloud.
Grissom turned to her with a twinkle in his eyes. "We have a puzzle to solve." As soon as he'd read the slip, he'd known this was the right case for the two of them. It would require thinking outside of the box, and provide them with ample opportunity for conversation and interaction. "ID'd him yet, Jim?"
Brass nodded. "Greg Ross, age 38. No family in the area. The building manager said he just moved in three months ago. The neighbors don't know anything about him. He was a quiet man," he deadpanned.
Sara knelt next to the corpse. "Through and through," she observed without touching it. "This is the exit wound. Unless he was shot on the roof, we're going to have a tough time finding that bullet."
Grissom returned from the truck and handed Sara's field kit to her. "I guess we'd better get started then."
"I'll keep checking for witnesses," Brass said.
During the elevator ride to the roof access stairwell, Grissom studied Sara carefully. She stood stiffly, staring ahead and saying nothing. He could almost see the tension in her neck and shoulders. Damn! Things were worse between them than he'd thought. He fought successfully against the urge to reach out and massage the taut muscles. When he moved to stand closer to her, she gave no indication that she noticed.
They scoured the rooftop, looking for evidence but finding none. Sara and Grissom stood at the edge from which Greg Ross had departed. Sara shook her head. "No blood. No bullet. Nothing."
Looking down at the victim on the sidewalk, Grissom answered his ringing telephone. He finished the call and turned to his colleague. "Jim found a resident who claims to have heard what may have been a gun shot."
"May have been?"
"Yeah. She wasn't sure what it was, and she couldn't tell where it was coming from, so she didn't report it." He watched Sara's face as she mentally processed the information. "And it looks like David's about finished. He's loading the vic into the car."
*^*^*^*^*^*
Grabbing her purse, Sara closed her locker. Grissom watched her from the doorway. This was an opportunity and he had to seize it. He cleared his throat. "You going home?"
Sara jumped a little at the sound of his voice. "Uh, yeah. Did I forget something?"
"No, no. Do you…want to get some breakfast?" His pulse was racing.
She stared at him, unprepared. Did he mean breakfast with everyone? Or did he mean just the two of them? Was he asking her as a coworker, or as something more? She wasn't going to guess. "No thanks. I'm really tired. I'm going to go home and crash."
She inadvertently brushed against him as she left. The contact caused his skin to tingle. That hadn't gone well. The sting of rejection sent an urge to retreat coursing through his brain. No, he told himself, he wasn't going to give up. It made sense to him that she was leery. He expected her to be hesitant, hence the plan of gradual reconnection. Tonight, he would simply try again.
TBC