Chapter 4

The late afternoon sun filtered lazily through the slats of the blinds covering the living room window across from where Grissom and Sara remained on the couch, bathing the room in a warm, orange glow. A few errant rays fell on Grissom's face as he sat in the same position he had been in several hours before, and slowly he began to drift awake.

Before he could surface completely, he became vaguely aware of a weight settled in his lap, and something silky and soft beneath his fingers. Lazily he opened his eyes, his gaze settling down to Sara's face, so calm and relaxed in sleep as her head rested on his thigh, his hand entwined in her hair.

A smile played on his lips as he gazed down at her.

He realized that he wasn't surprised they had fallen asleep on the couch; after all, neither of them had slept in at least two days and that wasn't even considering the stress of recent events. How Sara had managed to maneuver herself into her current position, however, he could only guess. He certainly hadn't noticed her movement and he was sure that she wouldn't have put herself in this position voluntarily. He didn't care though. He was reveling in her closeness, the feeling of her warmth. He savored the simple pleasure of being able to gaze upon her delicate features without worry of being caught in the act. Grissom felt as if he could stay like this forever… and truly be content.

The realization astonished him.

Before he could contemplate these startling feelings any further, Grissom felt Sara stir and heard her begin to softly moan. He noticed her brows furrow and a grimace contorted her face. She began mumbling very softly, but he could just barely make out, "I told you to stop." Then she started shaking her head agitatedly, "No… no…" her voice growing louder with each syllable until finally, "Nooo!" as she opened her eyes abruptly.

"It's okay, Sara…" Grissom soothed, "…it's okay," as he stroked her hair softly. Sara muzzily turned her head to try and focus her sleepy eyes on the face hovering above her own. When she finally managed, she blinked in surprise as she peered up into Grissom's blue eyes, always so intense, but now especially so as he concentrated worriedly on Sara's face.

"Nightmares?" he asked gently.

Sara felt like she was still in a dream and in a bit of a haze she responded, "Umm… yeah… I guess so," as she slowly brought herself up into a sitting position. Running a hand through her hair to pull it away from her face, she looked over at Grissom. Had she really been sleeping on his lap? Oh God.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… fall asleep… and…" She glanced down at his lap, then back to his face, somewhat embarrassed.

Grissom's eyes were gentle and he shrugged slightly. Sara thought she even saw a hint of a smile on his lips as he stood up from the couch. She mentally shook her head. She certainly was seeing a different side of Grissom these past few hours. Oh, she knew it had once existed, but it had been hidden for so long she thought for certain she'd never see it again. On the one hand, it was a little disconcerting. On the other, it was a welcome gift. Still, she wasn't sure where it was all coming from… or where it was going.

"I need to get home and take a shower before heading back to the lab." Grissom announced as he turned and looked down at Sara. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning to go get your car out of Impound."

"That's okay. You don't have to do that. I'll take a cab into work and then I'll pick up my car after shift."

Grissom sighed. "You're not working tonight, Sara."

Sara felt her throat tighten and the blood drain from her face. Her eyes wide she replied in a choked whisper, "I thought you said I was wrong about losing my job."

He looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then his puzzled look was replaced with that of alarm when he suddenly realized what she was thinking. "Oh… no, Sara… that's not what I meant..." he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, "Today's your day off – don't you remember?"

A wave of relief washed over Sara as she closed her eyes. Opening them again her face brightened as she let out an embarrassed chuckle, "Oh... yeah. I forgot." Wow, she thought, I'm obviously more rattled by all of this than I realized.

Grissom responded with a wink and a smirk, and then his expression grew more serious. He was sure Sara was still upset by recent events, and probably more than a little thrown off balance by his behavior. He knew that there were still a great many things that had not been said, but he felt that they both needed some time to process things first.

"You'll be okay?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah... I think I'll be fine."

Grissom turned to go. He had his hand on the doorknob when Sara softly called to him.

"Hey."

He turned to look over his shoulder. "Hmm?"

"Thanks." Sara's smile was genuine.

Grissom returned her smile with one of his own. "That's what friends are for," and he continued out the door.

Outside the sun was finishing its daily trek across the sky and now was almost completely set behind the nearby mountains. Grissom made his way across the parking lot and stopped by his Denali to look up. The moon was commencing its own rise heavenwards into the desert night sky and a few twinkling stars were just beginning to make their appearance.

Grissom felt a lightness in his being that he hadn't felt in a very long time. Taking a deep cleansing breath, he opened his car door and got in.

XxxOOOxxX

"You know, in all the years I've known you I never would have guessed you could be a killer."

Grissom looked up from his desk to see Brass leaning against his doorway with an expression on his face that he couldn't quite place. Slowly placing the papers he had in his hands down on the desk in front of him Grissom furrowed his brows, his eyes narrowing as he looked up over his glasses and replied, "What?"

"You heard me." Jim's voice was flat, his usual teasing tenor markedly absent.

"Yes, I heard you, but I don't think I understood what you said." Grissom paused, confusion etched on his face, "Did you just call me a killer?"

"That's right." Brass raised himself up from the doorjamb and entered the room. Closing the door behind him, he sat down heavily on the chair directly across from Grissom.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Actually, it looks more like murder-suicide to me but hey, I'm only a detective. What do I know?" Brass shot back dryly.

Grissom let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, Jim. You know I appreciate your dry sense of humor, but I'm not following you here on this one. Are you talking about a case?"

"No. I'm talking about you… and Sara."

Grissom blinked and shook his head lightly. "Me and Sara?" Grissom didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. It wasn't like Jim to get personal with him, besides the fact that he was speaking in riddles.

"You haven't fallen off the wagon have you?" Grissom had known Brass when he had a drinking problem years ago but thought that was all behind him. The very last thing he needed right now was to be picking up another one of his friends at the station for DUI. He now stared at Jim as if he were a suspect in the interrogation room, attempting to detect any evidence of intoxication. However, Brass appeared to be completely sober.

"I'm not the one you should be directing that question towards."

Suddenly, things were beginning to make a bit more sense. Grissom took off his glasses and held them in his hands, staring at them without seeing them. "So I take it you heard," he said in a hollow voice.

"Did you really think I wouldn't? But don't worry, it's under wraps. I made sure that the officers involved know that if even the slightest hint of Sara's incident makes it into the rumor mill heads will roll."

Grissom had no doubt that Brass meant every word he said. He knew from experience that not only could Jim be a tremendous ally – he could be a formidable foe.

"She told me she hadn't eaten all day and the liquor just went to her head. It's an isolated incident, Jim."

Brass wasn't phased. "You sure about that?"

Grissom just stared at him. He truly had absolutely no idea what the man before him was talking about and he had the distinct feeling he didn't want to know.

In turn, Brass couldn't believe how Grissom, a man so intelligent, so astute in the observation of criminal behavior and the collection of evidence, could be so damn blind to what was right before him, staring him in the face.

Brass continued, "I've talked to Sara about this before. I think she may have a drinking problem and I believe you're part of the reason why."

Grissom swallowed hard. Never in a million years would he have ever thought Sara would be the kind of person to develop a drinking problem. And he was part of the reason? He had no idea he was hurting her so much. His voice was soft. "When was this, Jim?"

"Remember the early rollout we had a couple of months back? Well, Sara was popping cough drops pretty good – said she was coming down with a cold. I didn't buy it because hey… I've been there before." Brass gave Grissom a knowing look. "I talked to her about it and she said it was only a couple of beers with breakfast and she wasn't expecting to be called back in –"

"That sounds legitimate. Maybe you're over-reacting, Jim." Grissom was grasping at straws and deep down, he knew it.

Brass just shook his head at Grissom in frustration. "No, Gil – there's more going on here. Haven't you noticed how she's been acting lately? She's really been down this past year – not her usual self. Can you even remember the last time you saw her smile? Really smile? I can't. And since the Debbie Marlin case, it's only gotten worse."

Debbie Marlin. Just her name was like a knife to his chest. "If you saw yourself lying on a slab in the morgue, it might make you pause too you know." Grissom knew how deeply it had affected him to see how much Debbie Marlin resembled Sara; he could only imagine what it had been like for Sara herself. That was one of the reasons why he had tried to keep her away from the crime scene. But he couldn't protect her at the lab - Catherine had told him that Sara had seen Debbie's body. He shook his head. He knew he was making excuses. Brass interrupted his thoughts.

"That's not what I meant about the Debbie Marlin case."

"Then what did you mean?"

"She was there, Gil."

"There?" Gil shook his head slightly; something was beginning to gnaw away at his insides.

"On the other side of the glass. She heard what you said to Dr. Lurie."

Grissom's mouth fell open.

Brass continued. "Hell, I was there too – remember?"

Grissom had no idea anyone had heard his tired confession other than Lurie. Yes, of course, Brass would have had to have heard it. But he had been in such an exhausted and tormented mental state; he hadn't even noticed him there. And Sara. He never meant for her to hear those words. That's what she meant last night about him telling a stranger about his feelings. God, what did she think?

"Look. You've got to do something about this thing you two have between you."

Grissom looked sharply at Brass as if he'd struck him in the face.

"Don't give me that look, Gil. We've known each other for fifteen years. And I've been a detective practically my entire life. It's obvious, man. You're miserable, she's miserable. If this goes on – what's going to happen to her… to you? Are you prepared for the phone call that says she's been involved in another DUI, or had something go wrong at a scene and is now in the morgue? It'll kill you – and you'll feel as if you've killed her. Do something, Gil."

Brass stood and walked slowly to the door, paused and looked back.

"Do something before it's too late."

He opened the door and walked out of Grissom's office.

Too late. Those words kept coming back to haunt him.

Grissom chewed at his lower lip, staring at the empty doorway. He knew Jim was right. There was more going on with Sara than he wanted to admit. He had seen the changes, but he just kept telling himself that Sara was strong. She didn't need anybody. She could take care of herself. Well, it was becoming clear that she couldn't do this on her own anymore. It was time for him step up. He picked up the phone.

"Personnel? Yes, this is Gil Grissom. I need you to find a temporary replacement for one of my CSI's while she takes some personal leave. We need someone by the end of the week at the latest. And do you have the paperwork finished for the annual conference I'm attending at the end of the week? Good. I'll be right there to pick it up. I'll be leaving a little earlier than planned."

TBC