Chapter 6 (Age is relative)

A/N: Again, thanks for your responses. I'm glad to know that someone out there likes what I write, especially this story. There is, by the way, no end in sight for the mushyness – not for a few chapters yet, but eventually there will be some action again. I promise!

xxxxx

The following day they were allowed take Grissom home. He was very glad to be out of the hospital and Sara was happy that she would not see him so pale in a white hospital bed anymore.

Mrs. Grissom had offered to let her stay at her house. That way she wouldn't have to be bothered with a hotel. And, she could spend time with Grissom. The older woman had realized that Sara was the one thing her son needed more than anything else.

The next few days were spent in a repeating pattern. In the mornings they would have breakfast together with his mother. At nine Mrs. Grissom would head for her gallery while Grissom and Sara moved to the veranda where they spend most of their time reading, only broken by a short lunch. They would return inside at five when Grissom's mother returned from work. After dinner the silence continued while they started on their books again.

The silence was mostly comfortable. Only when she would think too much about where to go from here Sara felt her fear returning. And in those moments she felt the pain welling up in her, waiting for the sting of another rejection.

Oddly as oblivious as Grissom usually was, these days he always seemed to know when she needed reassurance. He would look up from his reading and smile at her.

She was happy about their fragile truce, but she also wished for the waiting to be over. The longer these things lay between them unspoken the more they hurt.

On the fourth day after Grissom came out of the hospital her patience finally ran out.

After Mrs. Grissom had gone and he had settled on the veranda she sat down in front of him and touched his arm to get his attention. As soon as he saw the serious look on her face he knew time was up. No more hiding, he had to face her and in turn himself. He nodded in acknowledgement. "Who will start?" he swallowed and laid his book down on the side table.

"I would like to ask you something before we start," Sara asked tentatively.

Both knew this would be hard, physically and mentally, but it needed to be done. Grissom nodded again. His hearing was getting better and he could hear her now, although very muted, but he still had to read lips for the most part.

"Did you mean it?" she couldn't read his expression. He was concentrating too hard. "Do you have feelings for me?"

Grissom took his time, formulating his answer. He briefly considered using a copout, but discarded the thought knowing he couldn't hurt her anymore. This time he would have to tell her the truth. He sought out her eyes needing her to see the truth in his. "It wasn't a lie. Everything I wrote was true. I do have feelings for you."

The wise thing would have been to stop here, but suddenly he felt the need for her to know everything. "But these feelings are very conflicting feelings. I've been trying to sort them out for a while – unsuccessfully."

Sara knew that feeling and doing were two different pairs of shoes, but she couldn't help the flicker of hope that arose again. When Grissom didn't elaborate she decided to plow on with the next question. "Why are you so dead-set on not exploring these feelings?"

She had opened herself as target again. She was scared of being hurt and this time beyond repair. But she needed to get it all out; otherwise she would never be able to let go.

Grissom felt a big lump in his throat making it hard for him to breathe. The fear was back and all he wanted to do was run away from this. He already had, but he knew now that it hurt and would probably never stop hurting if he didn't face it. He had so much more to gain if he tried, because by doing nothing, hiding from it and avoiding it the situation only got worse and he was losing what he was trying so hard to preserve. At least by facing it, her, there was a slim chance of having it.

"I'm scared."

She had already gathered that and wanted to urge him on, but she knew it was a big admission coming from him. She swallowed down the 'why' that wanted to escape from her throat and waited for him to continue.

"I'm old Sara." She wanted to object, but he forestalled her with a lifted hand. "I am old, because I feel old. I feel like I haven't really done anything in my life. The sad thing is, I never wanted to do anything, anything but study. My bugs, forensics, even people to a certain extent. Only from a safe distance of course."

She couldn't really believe that he thought that. That he didn't know what he had accomplished.

He held up his hand again. He wanted to get everything out, before she could ask questions. If he didn't, he would lose his resolve and bolt.

"I don't have anything to offer. Beside my social shortcomings there is my rapidly aging body with a waning hearing. You...you deserve so much more."

Sara wanted to tell him so badly that she didn't care, but she could tell he was not finished.

"And I'm scared that you're not seeing that. In time though, and I have no doubt about that, you will. And what will happen to me then? I will be nothing. When you leave, there will be nothing left of me. 'This' is just too powerful and that scares me." He was talking as if everything was set in stone, as if her using him and leaving him was inevitable. Couldn't he see that she would never do that to him?

"I won't even begin to tell you about the professional risks, cause I know you know about them. But through all this, I do have feelings. I have very strong feelings for you. And even if you didn't believe me when I told you that I didn't know what to do about this, it is true. I don't know what to do."

When he finally finished his monologue she could see the tears streaming down his face and she knew that she didn't fare much better. He still hadn't said what kind of feelings he had, but first she needed to convince him that she knew what to do.

She opened her mouth to argue with him shut it again seeing the exhaustion in his whole stance. This speech had taken a big toll on him. He probably wouldn't be able to follow her. An idea formed in her head. She could get him to rest a bit and prepare something to tell him everything she needed to without being interrupted by him.

"Griss, I know you're eager to get this done, and so am I. But you're tired. I can see the weariness in your eyes. And I'm afraid right now you couldn't understand everything I say and there would be misunderstandings. This is too important. Please, rest for a while and then we will continue. All right? I know it's hard, but try?" Her fingers caressed his face, willing him to see that she was serious and that this conversation was immensely important to her too.

Although he was almost desperate for any reaction from her right now, he knew she was right. It was much harder to follow her lips than it had been at the start of this and he also feared that he might miss something, so he relented. He closed his eyes hoping that his mind would be able to shut down.

TBC