Author's Note: Okay, Chapter 4 is now G/S interaction, 3rd person, but some thoughts are mixed in. The first part is an overlap from parts 1 and 2, a recap of sorts.

Important:  Thoughts are in italics.

What Lies Beneath, pt 4

Sara noticed he was staring at her oddly, a look of wonderment on his face, like he hadn't seen her in years. She adjusted her hair behind her ear self-consciously and leaned back a bit, her voice and demeanor both shrinking.

"Grissom... What is it?"

He moved forward, taking halting steps towards her. "Oh... nothing really, I was just wondering how you were doing." Grissom inhaled quickly and tumbled on, determined to help her. "You really don't look so well... You're very pale."

Sara laughed shallowly. "Griss, I've always been pale. It's genetics. Plus I sleep during the day, like a vampire. Doesn't do well for the skin you know?" Play it off, play it off, play it off...

His head shifted to the side. "Do you?" he asked.

Shit. "Do I what?"

Grissom leaned against the edge of the table, placing his palm flat on its surface for balance and support. The next few lines are pivotal. If I can broach the subject carefully, she might open up to me. If not, I may lose her forever.

He answered her question abruptly. "Sleep during the day. You've worked doubles every day for... well since..." Grissom changed directions rapidly, mentally cursing while trying again. "I checked the schedule and the numbers don't add up Sara. You've been working more time than you're documenting."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I only get so many hours overtime. I can only bill—"

Holding up his free hand to silence her, Grissom cut in. "No, you can only work that many hours. Maximum overtime is a way of getting people out of the lab, not limiting their pay." Please Sara, please understand me.

Sara tore away from their conflict, recoiling as though the whole situation were poisonous. When she spoke again she spat her words out harshly. "Is that why you came, to lecture me on overtime? To remind me that I have no life?"

His mouth gaped open. Yet again he had allowed their interaction to degrade into argument. After hearing that retort, Grissom shut down.

Sara almost cried, watching the mask of detachment fall over her beloved's face. Her mind started to race.

Why? Why did I have to say that? Stupid, Sara, so stupid, you've pushed him away again, no wonder he doesn't come to you anymore when he's met with such resistance! God, Sara, you've done it again and now it's over. IT IS OVER.

There was a moment of peace in the room as Sara berated herself, and Grissom settled into comfortable objectivity.

I was wrong to come here. I've already lost her, on the inside. I thought she hated herself, but I think she may actually hate me more. Good. As long as she has that hate she has something to bind her to this place. Is that sick, enjoying her discomfort, savoring the fact that she can't leave... won't leave...? Maybe, but Sara's got to reap what she's sown.

When he spoke again it was with such even dispassion that chills ran down Sara's back. She hugged her lab coat to her, retreating into its protective shell.

"Sara, I never meant to lecture you. I was merely expressing my concern, which I've discovered was entirely unfounded. Please try to refrain from double shifts for the rest of the month. Consider that a direct order from your supervisor. I expect you to be out of here at 7 AM sharp. Understood?"

His tone brooked no argument. "Yes sir. 7 AM sharp."

Grissom pivoted and strode quickly from the room; Sara knew she had to stop the cycle now. If I don't, we could go on like this forever, until death do us part.

"Grissom!" He stopped at the doorway but didn't turn around. She decided to go for broke. Steeling herself against the worktable, Sara gazed aimlessly at the multicolor leaves on it. "I'm... sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. Ever since... that day, I can't get around it, you know? I just don't like being treated like a child and when you were telling me how pale I am it just felt condescending. Like you think I can't take care of myself. But I didn't mean—"  She looked up at him.

I have to make this clean. A clean break, painful but quick. That cold voice returned. "Sara. Save it. If you can take care of yourself, then do it and I won't have to..."

Her voice reduced to a pained whisper. "...Ok..."

Painful but quick... Grissom made an efficient escape, keeping his pace steady and ignoring the fading glow of her eyes on his back. He could always feel her presence, like a sixth sense. No matter how much he had avoided her in their years at the Las Vegas lab (and even in their time before), he could never get rid of that. Truthfully, deep down, he had never really wanted to.

Until death do us part... Sara continued staring at the retreating form of Grissom long after he had turned left onto a cross-hallway. Her eyes lingered there semi-focused from the haze of pain.

Sara calmly cleaned up the leaves, placing them back into their zippered containers. Once she was done and the work table was completely cleared, Sara deflated, her head collapsing into her hands. Her slender hands started to tremble again, the onslaught of frustration and anguish causing her to shake as the beginnings of nausea welled deep in her stomach. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes but none were brave enough to fall.

What have I done? Now there's nothing left. Nothing left. Nothing.

TBC...

Author's Note: I've pretty much finished planning out all the chapters. I apologize for those who'd prefer mush but, you know, what are the odds of it resolving painlessly that quickly? Really... You just have to give it time... Stick with me here :)