DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.
Sara's hands found their place on the rough tree trunk on which she was sitting; the wind decided to pick up speed and remove the strands from the woman's face. She was enjoying the silence of the moment when something decided to temporarily halt that.
Her head turned and she saw him quietly walking up to her. She did not know what kind of face to make. How did he manage to find her?
"Hey," she greeted him softly but held back on the smiles.
"Evening." He looked past her and then at her. "Am I interrupting you?"
She did not give an immediate answer. In a way he had cut into the moments of solitude but she did not feel the mood to reject him. "I was beginning to crave company from another human being," she responded and finally let a thin line stretch across her face.
"Can I take that as an invitation?" he asked in his own seemingly shy, but obscured intelligent expression.
"If you want," she told him and turned her head.
Grissom gave her a cautious but friendly look before he slowly walked over to her and sat down next to Sara. He looked ahead with her at the lonely mound in a near distance.
"How did you find it?" he asked.
"I read."
He nodded slowly and perched his lips. Grissom wished to smile. He was not prepared to find Sara here and – from what he could tell – enjoying the view. His eyes traveled over to hers. Her gaze was almost mystic in the way she observed the idyllic and undisturbed routine of the colony. Grissom would have been fiendishly lying to himself if he didn't think she looked beautiful this way. Sara was a rare beauty, she always had been, but something about this moment managed to distance himself from everything else except her face and that stare. He glanced at her lips. They seemed hesitant whether to part or not. Maybe she wished to speak or perhaps to gasp.
She was mystifying.
"I should ask the obvious now," she broke the isolation period.
"And that would be?"
"How did you find me?" Sara turned to him. Her brown eyes were crossing over to a golden color and back in only a second; a play of colors. Oh, how the sun knew which tricks to play with such exquisiteness.
"I saw your car," he replied and pointed behind him.
Sara's eyes narrowed for a split second and she glanced at the showed direction. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that was apparent." She smiled briefly and returned her gaze to its original target.
"So, what brought you here?" he asked.
"The peacefulness. Just simple, undisturbed quietness."
"With fire ants as your company," he said with curled lips.
"Yes." She smiled.
"An interesting choice."
Sara didn't respond. She gathered her hands close to her stomach instead.
"Something on your mind?" he asked her.
"Why would you ask?"
"Solitude is sometimes the best way to let your thoughts run more smoothly."
"It is." She knew he waited for her to continue. "Why do you want to know?"
"As your supervisor I should know if one of my CSIs is struggling with something."
That had been a block of ice shoved right between them. Sara turned to look at him and it was not a very agreeable gaze at that. How could he say that? Where was he when other sad things were dragging her down in life? She turned away. He always prevented her from feeling confident enough to actually confide in him. "You happen to have a degree in psycho-analysis also?"
"I would love to say that having read Sigmund Freud has made me an expert but sadly... not."
"That explains it then."
He recognized her sarcasm. "Any reasons I should know about?"
"Where should I start?" Sara told herself. "About why I don't want to tell you?" she said out loud.
"Yes." He paused. "And if we're lucky to get pass that, what is troubling you as well."
"If you should be so lucky... Do expect a lot of bumps."
"I am prepared for the bruising and scars also." He smiled.
Sara smirked and shook her head.
Grissom was patient. He diverted his gaze to the busy ants and their never ending, life-long work. They were a pretty sight; even if deadly; a perfect addition here. There could always be something charming about the desert. This time it had been the almost perfect silence with nothing but the quiet whistling of the wind that passed by his ears.
"You are right," Sara finally spoke.
"About what?" He glanced at her.
"Insects being perfect."
Grissom's lips smiled briefly to this.
"They always do their job, you said. It's so true," she said not removing her gaze away from the ants. "They're simple without being ridiculously complicated. Useful without many expectations." She sighed.
Grissom recognized that form of exhale. Sara was usually saddened by something when that gentle and deep sigh would escape her. "They don't have to go through the same complicated things that humans do."
"Aha."
Her eyebrows furrowed; the wind took a break as if on purpose to allow Sara to speak. "They're never alone..." her voice was so fragile that if the wind hadn't made the decision to cease its movement, the tone would deteriorate in its invisible river and be swept farther away.
He had turned into a master of seeming emotionless. With anyone else he would have kept that composure. With Sara he was lucky if he didn't break down. He despised her ability to affect him in that way. Grissom despised himself even more, so vigorously, for not being able to stop himself from turning into clay at times for her hands to shape him in any way they chose. She never knew about that because he never showed her that ability. But he felt it. Every single time, every single moment when her vulnerability would appear on the surface, that flame had ignited inside him and started burning. It was eating away his defenses. He realized that he was inviting those flames to enter deeper inside him rather than fight them with all his strength.
The truth was a simple one even if he chose to ignore it more than once: he loved this woman.
Grissom understood her point. He wasn't brave enough to tell her that he could not change that for her; at least, not for now. "I take it your brother's engagement has something to do with this," he said instead.
"It might." Her fingers scratched her palm. "We all get that crisis sometimes with the fear of being alone. Not having someone there..."
"You think that's how it's going to be for you."
"Don't you?" she glanced at him. As a response Grissom tilted his head from side to side and raised his eyebrows. "To have a companion. To share your passions with."
"It's a luxury if anyone could be so fortunate as to find such a soulmate."
"Do you believe in it?"
"In?"
"Soulmates."
"I haven't come across any proof that there actually is such a thing."
Sara smirked and looked down at her hands. "Well, before you sounded like you did."
"Did I?"
"Yeah." Sara nodded.
Grissom's left lip curled up. "It was accidental."
"Not with a sentence like that it's not."
"You start looking into meanings like that, you risk of losing a rational approach."
"As much as my scientific side is telling me to agree with you... I can't. Sometimes, for certain matters, that rational side deserves a break."
"Ah, but it's the lack of rationality and reason that most often than not gets us into unnecessary trouble."
"You would think that, wouldn't you?" She had to admit to herself that she found this slightly amusing.
Grissom chuckled and was ready to respond to that when suddenly his cell phone rang. "Grissom... okay. Thanks." He placed the phone back in his pocket. "Lab's calling."
"Okay."
If Grissom did not know any better, he swore Sara's response was a sad one. Would she miss him? "You'll stay here?"
"A little longer," she said.
Grissom stood up. "This is a nice place by the way."
"Thanks," she smiled widely at him.
"I might come here again."
Sara said nothing but kept her smile. She was satisfied to hear that. With any luck, she might not have to come here by herself anymore... with any luck...
After receiving the report from Greg of a possible relation between a victim and a suspect, Grissom headed out into the hallway. That had been a pleasant discussion he shared with Sara the previous week. Maybe if this could somehow continue, he might risk a step or two.
The smile on his face however, was rapidly removed when he noticed Sara and detective Vartann in the hallway. Her hands were in the back pockets of her jeans and her entire body language was so relaxed that Grissom felt a spark of jealousy.
And then she laughed. It wasn't fake laughter, but a genuine, amused laugh. The spark turned into a tiny fire. Grissom could hardly remember the last time he had caused her to reproduce such a joyful sound; perhaps because it had been too long ago. He took a deep breath and started walking towards them. "Hey, Sara?" he called her.
She turned to him and Grissom felt a tug in his chest. She looked happy. She was smiling. The grin on her face was something completely different than her state the previous week. The tiny fire morphed into a medium flame. "Yeah?"
"Got the results. We can secure a warrant for the house," he said. Grissom was lucky that he had their case to use as an excuse to interrupt this enjoyable conversation.
"Okay, I'll be right there, I just..." she turned to the detective when Grissom immediately interrupted her.
"We need to hurry," he said in a soft tone but one that meant business.
"Uh, okay." Sara understood. "And thanks, I'll think about it."
"Please do." Detective Vartann smiled back at her before bidding her and Grissom farewell.
When he left, Grissom's curiosity got the best of him. "What was that all about?" he tried to sound casual.
"Nothing interesting," she replied.
"You laughing certainly showed the opposite."
"He just told me a good joke."
"Is that all?"
Sara gave him an awkward look. "Yes, Grissom." She turned her head. "And he asked me out."
That last sentence was a pair on nails that rooted Grissom on the spot while Sara continued walking. Did he hear correctly? He struggled to release his feet so he could catch up with her. "What did you say?" he was also struggling to maintain the same tone of voice.
"Why?" she looked at him.
Grissom shrugged. "Trying to make a conversation."
Sara raised an eyebrow at him. That was an odd response. "You heard my answer."
"Oh. You're going to give it much thought?"
"Probably... I don't know." She sounded honest.
Grissom looked at his planner. Dinner with Jack Clearcane at 7:30 was scribbled in the rectangular space on the paper. He had written that yesterday when he received the call and the invitation.
"And so, I think the glove that we found at the son's apartment might convince the jury that..." Sara looked up at Grissom. His face showed no real presence here. "And then a piano fell on my head," she said.
"Good, good." Even Grissom's voice appeared absent.
Sara approached his desk. "Grissom?" she called him.
He finally looked up at her. From his stare Sara could tell he had not heard a single word from her. The attention in those blue eyes slowly returned as he kept looking at her. That painfully long change affected Sara. She wanted to say something but Grissom's deepening stare bolted her lips. She might have somehow noticed a curl forming at the corner of his mouth but Sara could not confirm it. Those eyes did not let her move.
"What are you doing tomorrow after work?" he finally asked her.
"I..." That was not an expected response. "I don't know."
"Come to dinner with me," he said.
"What?" she was not sure she heard well.
"I am meeting a friend of mine and his wife for dinner tomorrow. They're staying in Vegas for a few days."
"Okay..."
"He asked me if I could bring a... companion with me."
"Aha... so, why me?" she was hugely skeptical about this. His lack of proper emotional exposure did not help much either.
"I think having a female companion with me would be more appropriate."
"Why not ask Catherine?"
"I need someone with more knowledge about insects," he replied.
"Ah... let me guess... your friend or his wife is an entomologist?"
"They both are."
Sara smirked. "Of course."
"Well?" he waited.
"I'm not sure my level of expertise is high enough to indulge myself into conversations involving such subject with them."
Grissom chuckled slightly. "We won't talk about bugs all the time, Sara."
"It doesn't change my answer."
"What is your real answer then?"
Sara sighed and simply stared at him.
"Shift's not over yet. We're not paid to stare at each other," he told her.
"I'll give you a definite answer tomorrow," she said.
"I need one now if it's possible."
"Your invitation came out of nowhere; I think I deserve a day more to consider it."
"It's not a date, Sara. Just dinner with some friends of mine."
Placing her hands on her waist, she never took her eyes off his. She finally exhaled and dropped her arms. "Sure, why not."
That curl at his lips finally showed. "Thank you," he said. He clicked his pen and set it between the documents, giving Sara an indication that their conversation had finished.
She gave him one more look before she turned around and casually walked out of his office. "I better catch up on my reading then," she mumbled.