Thursday again. Part two

Spoiler: Primum non nocere

"First time telling you that I love you."

Grissom gaped. He couldn't believe he had just said that.

It wasn't the first time he spoke without thinking first; he had told her once that he'd been interested in beauty only since he met her. But while bursts of spontaneity like these had always worked in his favor – they momentarily paralyzed her into silence, thus giving him a chance to flee – this time he had nowhere to go.

This time he'd have to take responsibility for everything he said or did.

Glancing at Sara, he could well imagine the questions boiling in her head: 'Did he just say what I think he said?' 'Did he mean it?' 'Did he say that he loves me, or is he only offering to say it some day?' 'When is he going to say it?'

He didn't know the answers to those questions yet, but he knew he had to say something, so he took her hand and opened his mouth and searched for the right words-

And someone suddenly interrupted him.

"Gil!" a female voice called out, "Hey!"

They looked up in time to see a young blonde woman waving at them. When Grissom acknowledged her greeting with a nod, she made a beeline towards them. She briefly turned to a young man walking a couple of steps behind her, urging him to hurry.

"Brace yourself." Grissom muttered under his breath

"What do you mean?" Sara asked, but Grissom didn't answer. He stood to greet the newcomers, pulling Sara along.

Grissom introduced her to Steven and Marcia Graham, newlyweds spending part of their honeymoon in Pana. Steven shook Sara's hand, but Marcia was more enthusiastic; she kissed Sara on both cheeks and hugged her as if she were a long-lost sister.

"So you're Gil's friend!" she gushed, "I knew there had to be someone, somewhere! Are you staying long?" she asked enthusiastically, but not giving her any time to answer, "Are you staying at the Porta del Lago, too? "

Porta del Lago was Grissom's hotel.

"Uh, no." Sara answered, "I'm staying at the, hum, the Primavera?" Sara answered self-consciously. "I don't know if I'm pronouncing it right."

"Oh, that's a nice hotel." Said Steven, "So, do you like it here?"

"Yes. Yeah, it's beautiful."

"It's so nice of you to visit!" Marcia said, "Now Gil won't have any more excuses not to come with us," she said, glancing at Grissom, "We've been after him to go out dancing and he's always said no-"

Grissom smiled faintly.

"We should all go to El Molino Viejo tonight!" proposed Steven, "How about eight o'clock?"

"I'm working tonight," Grissom said quietly, "I'm finishing my study on moths."

"Oh. Well, tomorrow then." Marcia said, "Fridays are great at the disco!"

"We'll see." Grissom said non-committally.

"Try to convince him, Sara." Marcia said, "By the way, we're having lunch at Munchies. Would you like to come?"

"We'll eat at the hotel." Grissom said kindly but firmly.

The Grahams waved goodbye a few minutes later, and Marcia performed her kissing ritual again; these time she kissed Grissom too. Once they were out of hearing range, Grissom turned to Sara.

"Are you hungry, Sara?"

Sara was gaping.

"Grissom?" she asked, "Did that woman just pinched your butt?"

"That's what we call the 'Graham cheek treatment,' around here" he explained, and chuckled when he noticed Sara's indignation, "She does it to every male, Sara. It doesn't mean anything."

"But she's on her honeymoon, for God's sake." she glared, "How can she do that?"

"It's just a game for her." He said dismissively. "And he knows, in case you're wondering."

She looked curiously at him.

"You don't like them very much, do you?"

"Well, they're excessively bubbly for my taste." He admitted

"So this story about you having to work tonight was only an excuse-"

"Actually, I do have to work. I'm documenting the final stages in the development of a rare moth."

"Oh." She tried to hide her disappointment, "Do you have to leave early or something?"

"No." he smiled, "They don't need me 'til seven." He reached for her hand again, "Come on, I need to put on some clothes." He glanced at her, "Are you hungry? I think it's a good idea to eat at the hotel; we'll have some privacy at least. And there's cocido in the menu today."

"What's that?"

"A vegetable soup." He explained, "It has cabbage, carrots, potatoes-" and his voice trailed off.

She smiled her approval.

They walked in silence along the shore. When he finally spoke, he tried to sound as casual as he could.

"So, you kissed Nick and went to a party."

"Hum?" she asked. She had been looking at the lake and the question surprised her. "Oh. Yes, I did." then she explained, "I kissed Nick out of gratitude, Grissom; I mean, he offered to take over my cases during my vacation-"

"That was nice of him."

"Everybody's been nice to me these last few days." She said, "Warrick took over my court appearances, Brass watched over me," she said, glancing pointedly at Grissom, "And Greg-"

"-Greg took you to a party." He finished.

"His high school reunion." She said, and she told him all about it. "I never went to any prom, so it was a new experience."

"You did something nice for him, Sara." He nodded. After a moment he asked, "How is everybody back at the lab?"

"They're fine. Archie's been taking bets on you. He calls it, 'Where in the world is Gil Grissom?'" She smiled, "Whoever comes up with the funniest or most creative bet, wins. Catherine's bet was that you are at the Smithsonian, studying their insect collection. Greg was more creative; he says you're acting as a consultant in Steven Spielberg's next movie, a remake of Wasp Woman."

Grissom smiled faintly.

They entered the lobby of the Porta del Lago hotel and Grissom asked for his key in Spanish.

"Hey, I didn't know you spoke it so well." She said, following Grissom to the elevator.

"I took classes a long time ago." He explained.

It wasn't until they entered the elevator that Sara realized that they were going to his room. She nervously glanced at Grissom, wondering what was in his mind.

"Did you mean it?" she asked shyly.

"Did I mean what?" he asked distractedly as he pushed the button for the sixth floor.

"Nothing." She said evasively.

They were going up to his room, so maybe this was not the right moment to talk about love.

Too late had she realized that she had not packed a single piece of sexy lingerie. Right now she was wearing her practical and unimaginative underwear (and she could almost hear Catherine saying, 'cotton panties, Sara? How could you?'

Grissom didn't notice her turmoil. He calmly opened the door and let her into his suite.

It was airy and tastefully decorated with reproductions of Mayan art and textiles, but what inevitably caught her attention was the bed in the middle of the room – wide, covered with a beautiful blue afghan. She managed to turn her attention to the rest of the furniture –a desk and a chair, a big armoire, and a chest of drawers, and then to a wide glass door that let her have a fantastic view of the lake.

"Oh, wow," she said, "Do you mind if I open the door?"

"Go ahead," he said, "I'll order lunch."

Sara slid the door open and walked out into the balcony. There were a couple of rattan chairs there, and huge red clay pots filled with greenery. She leant on the rail and glanced down. From there she had a lovely view of a pool and a garden, and the lake, of course. It was a wider lake than she had thought, and she hoped she'd have a chance to explore it.

She was so entranced by the beauty surrounding it, that she didn't notice that he was standing behind her.

He had missed her and now he was looking at her, getting his fill. He couldn't believe she was there with him. He had taken this vacation, hoping that eventually she would take some time off herself. She had, but instead of going to some Caribbean island like she should have, she had chosen to come to this unglamorous place.

She was giving him a chance. It moved him.

"I want to say it." He said quietly.

She turned. Grissom was leaning against the doorframe, and looking steadily at her. Sara held her breath.

"I want to." He repeated, "I just think we ought to talk first. We've never done that. I know it's my fault-"

"Gil." She said softly, "It's ok. We have all the time in the world now." She smiled, "But there's something I'd like to say now. I'd like to thank you."

"For what?" he frowned.

"For doing this for me," she said, "For taking this vacation. I have to admit that I was angry at first. I felt betrayed by your leaving." She admitted, "But later, when I realized how difficult it must have been for you to leave everything behind, I understood how much you cared about me." She looked down, "You were right; I needed time away from you. The world is bigger than I thought -there's more people in it, right? Not just you and me, I mean." She looked up.

"And yet," he said wistfully, "Sometimes I only need you in it."

He blinked. He had spoken without thinking again. Grissom didn't wait for her reaction. He mumbled something about taking a shower and left.

She didn't mind being left alone in the balcony. She was smiling from ear to ear.

Grissom stared at the 'Maria Linda', a boat punctually returning from its daily trip to Santiago. It was about five o'clock. It felt like five o'clock; the sun was disappearing behind the mountains and it was getting a bit chilly.

And his arm was getting numb. Earlier in the afternoon, Sara had put her head on his shoulder and had fallen asleep almost immediately, exhausted by the day's events. In her sleep, she had slowly invaded his personal space until he ended up in a corner of the chair while she used his shoulder as a pillow and his arm as some sort of teddy bear. Every time he shifted a little, she tightened her hold on his arm. He'd never felt so needed; it made him want to protect her and comfort her. But his arm was still getting numb, so he shifted a little. Luckily, she didn't stir.

Grissom smiled fondly at her; she looked utterly relaxed.

A little after lunch, he had tried to coax her into taking a nap in his bed, but she had blushed and refused. Suspecting that she was more tired than she wanted to admit, Grissom decided to bring the bed outside instead; he took all the pillows and the afghan and arranged them on the chairs in the balcony. They sat together then, quietly watching the boats moving in the water.

After a while, she had talked about her friend Tina's tragedy. Grissom had kept his emotions under control, but he couldn't help feeling relieved by the fact that she hadn't been raped herself. That had always been a major concern for him.

He understood now why Sara reacted the way she did when they encountered cases of abuse against women, but there was something bothering him: She had told her story unemotionally, as if it really didn't affect her. Grissom could not believe this was the case.

There was something she was not telling him, or maybe she wasn't even aware of it. Sara's reaction to her friend's tragedy said a lot about herself. She was the first to admit that she had been too hard on Tina, but what Sara didn't seem to realize was that she was even harder on herself. She rarely ever gave herself a break. She kept moving, moving- She rarely stopped.

He had always wondered about her family – who were these people? Were they strict, perfectionist, unforgiving people?

Or were they so indulgent that she herself had set her own limits? Some kids felt compelled to be the adults in the family, while other kids just didn't have a choice. They had to take care of their drunken mom or their sick father, and had to be in control for the sake of others.

Grissom had the feeling that Sara had never had a chance to be a kid and do silly things-

Well, now she had a chance to do fun stuff for a change. She had traveled all the way here, and he wanted to make it worthwhile for her… but he still hadn't a clue as to what to do.

Poor girl, he thought regretfully; falling for a guy who doesn't know how to have fun-

"Do something fun then." he said aloud, and this time she stirred.

"Grsfm?" she mumbled.

"Shhhh, go back to sleep" he whispered.

She blinked when she heard his voice and was plainly surprised to see his face so close to hers.

She immediately sat up, looking around in sudden confusion.

"Wow- It's-" she looked at him, "This is your hotel." She said.

"Yes, it is," he smiled.

"Wha- what time is it?" she asked, discreetly combing her hair with her hands.

"It's about five-thirty-"

"Wow. Sorry."

"Why?" he frowned.

"I fell asleep."

"It's ok, Sara." Grissom said, "You had a long day- sleep all you want."

But she was obviously uncomfortable. She put on her sandals and smoothed down her skirt, and then she picked up the pillows and took them back into the room. Grissom let her.

Sara was nervously putting the pillows in some kind of order, but failing to do the same with her thoughts: she couldn't believe she had fallen asleep; she had never let her guard down like this. She wasn't used to being this vulnerable-

She returned for the afghan, but Grissom had already folded it.

"I didn't snore, did I?" she asked suddenly.

"You drooled a little." Grissom said very seriously, but when she cringed, he immediately added, "Sara, no; I'm only joking-"

"Not funny," she scowled. Then she rubbed her arms, "It's getting cold." She said, and it sounded like an accusation, "I thought this was the 'country of the eternal spring'?"

"It is," He smiled, "but we also have summers at noon and autumns in the evening."

"That sounds poetic," She said, smiling despite herself. She looked at the lake.

"I love this view." She said wistfully. After a moment, she sighed, "I guess I ought to go back to my hotel."

"Well-"

"I mean, you have to work tonight-" she added, going back into the room. "Right?"

"Yes." He said. "It's my last night studying the moths."

"Could you lend me a book?" she asked as they entered the room again, "I finished the one I brought, and after that nap I don't think I'll be able to sleep the night through."

"Help yourself," he said, opening the armoire. There were about a dozen or so books among the folded clothes. While she happily browsed, Grissom opened a desk drawer and picked a camera and a few other items he'd need for his work at the reserve.

"These are really old books," she said, and Grissom noticed she had picked up 'Experiment Perilous'. "This was printed during a paper shortage during WWII."

"Did you read the 'send a book to a soldier overseas' note on that one?" he smiled.

"By the way," Sara said, "I'd like to buy some souvenirs for the guys at the lab, but if we give them similar gifts we'll be busted, so I was thinking-"

"Gifts?" he frowned.

"Yeah." She paused, "You haven't bought anything for Catherine and Brass and the other guys?

Grissom seemed sincerely puzzled by this.

"Why should I buy them anything?"

"Why?" she repeated, disbelief clear in her voice. Grissom had the sudden feeling that he had failed some test and waited for her to continue, "Grissom," she said, very seriously, "the main reason to buy souvenirs is to brag about your trip."

He chuckled and then he stared at her, looking as if he were trying to make some decision.

"What?" she asked.

"I bought something for you." He said. He opened the desk drawer again and took a small, oblong box. "Hope you like it."

Sara put the books on the bed and gingerly took the box from him.

"Thank you," she said softly and opened it. "Wow." She whispered, looking at a beautiful necklace lying on a strip of black velvet. The chain was silver, set off with tiny reddish stones. She stared at it for a long time. It was the kind of discreet jewelry she liked, and the color- Grissom had chosen the perfect necklace for the dress she had bought for Greg's party. She was speechless.

"Do you like it?" he asked after a while.

"Uh, huh. It's perfect." She said without telling him more. He was going to be surprised when he saw her wearing it with that dress… Boy was she glad she had brought it along-

She was still staring at the necklace, when he put a denim jacket around her shoulders.

"Here." He said, "This'll keep you toasty."

It was getting dark too fast, but on Santander Street the stores were still open and well lighted. Grissom and Sara walked leisurely, stopping here and there to window shop, but inevitably getting closer to her hotel.

"I'd love to see what you've been doing at the reserve." She said wistfully.

"It's boring stuff, Sara," he said evasively. Before she could argue, he gently grasped her arm to cross the street, "Let's buy dinner." He said, motioning her towards a bakery. "The muffins here are great."

Grissom ordered some croissants and muffins and coffee to go, and waited while the girl in charge packed his order. Grissom glanced at Sara.

"Would you like tea instead of-" Grissom paused when he saw Sara burying her face deep into the collar of his jacket.

"What is it?" he asked, "Are you cold?"

"It smells like you-" she explained, "I love it."

Grissom blinked. Her words had a sudden, physical effect on him. It was as if she had actually touched him. He had never experienced anything like this. Suddenly, he wished he didn't have to leave.

And Sara seemed to understand the conflict. He didn't want to leave, but he was finishing his study, and he had a duty-

"Gil-" she whispered, "Don't you need some help taking notes or something?"

He hesitated only a second.

"Yes, Sara. I do."

TBC

Next (and last) chapter: What happened on the eighth day? Nah, there won't be a higher rating.