Chapter 5

Kiss of Life

When Gil Grissom had kissed Sara Sidle it had been on sheer impulse, without thought, without the consideration of consequence. Everything inside of him had just seemed to snap and the emotion had finally broken free. The only way he could explain what he'd done was that it had been the euphoria of an overdose on the most potent of emotion that had been screaming to surface for some time now. All that emotion had pushed him until his body had reacted before his mind had any chance to reflect what might happen next.

Pulling back from Sara, breathless and heated, three important realisations came to him one after the other, like three rather large painful bricks in the face.

One: this had been some kind of horrible mistake – a mistake he'd enjoyed but a mistake nonetheless. This one action was what he decided to refer to as having opened a whole new can of worms.

Two: He had no response to follow his own actions. What now? How was he supposed to explain what he'd just done? Should he kiss her again? Should he apologise for having kissed her so suddenly? Or should he wait to see what Sara's response would be before taking any action at all?

Three: He was incredibly aware of how alive it had made him feel to kiss her. It felt as twenty-five years of his life melted away that instant. As if kissing her had been like the kiss of life, bringing him to life again.

What now though, Gil? He asked himself as he stared at Sara, her eyes were on his and she looked as lost for words as he felt.

Say something, and say it fast, he thought at himself wildly, he'd already begun to choke on his words. "I…uh…" he began, but immediately forgetting everything he wanted to say – forgetting everything he'd always wanted to say.

Sara's face was a roadmap of confusion. He could see the disbelief building on her face. Her mouth hung open in the same way it had the second his lips had left hers, her expression almost seemed vacant.

Gil had assumed at first she might be pleased. She'd wanted him to do something, wanted him to give in, hadn't he just done that? But instead of being happy, he knew now that she was doing what he'd have done if he were in her shoes – analysing what this had meant.

But what does it mean? Gil thought. I know it means that nothing will be the same anymore. I've gone a step too far and now I have to face up to the consequences. Does this mean that now I'm obligated into a relationship? He winced at his thoughts. No, wait, you're getting too far ahead of yourself. It was a kiss, nothing more. You've kissed before, you've made love before, and never felt obligated. Why start now?

Sara was sitting anticipating for him to do something, she gave him a pleading expression as if to beg him to be the first to say something.

"Sara…" he finally said, he turned away and sighed, the words in his head were so eloquent, but by the time they were ready to progress to his mouth, they seemed to melt like tiny sprinkles of ice on a hot tongue. How could he make her understand what was going on in his head?

How could he tell her that he loved her, he wanted to be with her, but at the same time didn't?

This is going nowhere, he thought. I have to say something, and I have to say it now.

Sara sighed too, and opened the car door to step out. She had already noticed the expression of doubt on his face as he'd turned away. She barely had one foot out when Gil finally managed to get out a sentence.

"I didn't think that was going to happen…"

Smooth, Gil, real smooth. She's probably looking for something along the lines of romantic poetry…and what do you say? 'I didn't think that was going to happen'.

Sara paused, she looked at him, and her face was caught somewhere between frustration and disbelief.

You're losing her, Gil thought. She's two seconds away from getting out and slamming the door – probably wishing your head was directly in its way so she can hear the thud it'll make when it hits your thick useless skull.

"What I mean is…" he forced himself to go on, "is…I didn't know I'd do that…I didn't think I'd just…" he trailed off, searching for an explanation. He was stammering now, "uh…I mean…" he looked to the ceiling of the car, wishing there was a script taped up there that he could read from.

Sara shook her head, "Save it."

"What I mean to say…" he prattled on nervously, he desperately searched his mind for the right thing to say, trying to grasp the strings of imaginary conversation he'd had with her in his mind – from the hundreds of times he'd fantasized how he would tell her he loved her. "Is that…I…"

Sara's expression was impatient now, her eyes squinting.

"Is that…" he swore mentally, and he finally said, "I hadn't planned on that…"

She was growing even more weary of this conversation, and she slid out of the car further.

No…you can't let her walk out now. You're here, you've finally done something to possibly initiate something. You can't just let it all drop now and have her even more mad at you than she was to begin with, you have to do something, you have to say something. You can't give up now.

"This…thing…that's happened…" he swallowed, "the dictionary refers to it as…a sudden wish…or urge….that prompts an unpremeditated act or feeling…" he chewed the inside of his cheek looking at her. "Impulse."

This is sounding less romantic by the minute, he despaired. I used to be so much better at this when I was younger.

"Impulse?" she finally asked, her face was now unreadable.

"Yes," Gil replied quietly.

How did I get myself in this situation? Why did I have to rise to the challenge? God, I want to just be swallowed up by a big black hole right now.

Gil was incredibly torn. It felt as if there were three people in his head all telling him to do different things. Love Sara. Don't love Sara. Walk away from Sara without doing either.

This is ridiculous, he thought.

"So is that it?" Sara asked, sounding rather crestfallen. "You got the impulse out of your system so now you're set."

"No…that's not it at all…" he stammered, his eyes fell to the dashboard.

"Then what?" she demanded.

"I don't know!" he suddenly burst.

Sara blinked in response to the tone in his voice, she sat straight, her lips pursed.

He drew his breath and softened his tone, "I'm not good at this."

"Tell me about it," Sara commented dully, he wasn't sure if she was still going to get out of the car.

Gil put both his hands on the steering wheel just to keep them from feeling idle, so that he wouldn't wildly gesture with confusion as he spoke, "whenever it comes to this, I go blank. I am blank right now. Totally and utterly blank…"

Sara gave a sigh, "Gil…" she began in a soft tone, and she was about to speak.

Gil wasn't sure if he was angry or relieved that his cellular phone in his jacket pocket began to ring persistently right at that moment, he looked at her, helpless all the same, "excuse me," he said politely, and he answered the phone. "Grissom."

Sara got out of the car, then stood with her back against the back door, her hands in her pockets. She looked away distantly. Gil watched her as he continued with his phone conversation.

The phonecall was work related– as it always was whenever his phone rang. Someone had reported a dead body in the desert, and he was needed immediately. When he hung up, he climbed out and walked around the car, "I need to go back to work."

"What?" she asked, as if she could barely believe it, "it's the end of your shift."

"I know…they just found a body in the desert, it's so badly riddled with bugs, that I'm the only one who can to help estimate time of death," he explained, he looked down to the ground guiltily.

"So…" she trailed off, looking down at the ground too, the disappointment was very evident in her voice, her eyes were filled with emotion as she looked away, like she might cry.

Gil lifted his eyes to hers, he ached to see her so distressed, especially since he was the cause. "So…come with me."

Sara raised her head and looked at him, "why? I'm not the entomologist, you are…you don't need me out there," she pointed out.

"It's not an order, Sara," Gil said, "it's…a request. It's up to you if you want to take it or leave it."

Why are you asking her to come with you, he wondered at himself as he waited for her response to his request. Are you deliberately trying to make this harder on yourself?

Sara sighed and climbed back into the car without another word. Gil smiled, he leaned in to her side and looked at her.

"It won't take long," he promised, he felt the sudden urge to kiss her again, but held back this time, "we'll go for breakfast afterwards," he smiled again, "Then…we can talk"

"About anything?" she asked.

"Anything you like," he nodded, and he meant it. "Anything…you like," he closed her door for her and climbed in.

Gil had been right when he'd promised it wouldn't take long. The driving to the desert to reach the body destination – which had taken forty minutes in total – had taken longer than his examination of the body and the insects – his whole involvement in the case itself barely needed twenty minutes. Only an hour had passed since leaving Sara's buildings' parking lot to take off towards the desert, and they were on their way back now, crossing over barren desert on a lonely road destined back to the bustling life of Las Vegas.

"It's been some night," said Sara, she stifled a yawn. Sara's eye lids dropping, her face becoming ever so slightly blotchy with fatigue, and Gil realised how much of a selfish request he'd made in asking her to come along for the journey.

The sun was rising over the horizon, and light had begun to paint the clouds with pastel pinks and oranges. Gil felt incredibly awake, despite the part of himself that told him he needed to lie down and sleep for a very long time. He was alert, and perhaps ever so slightly apprehensive, unsure of what Sara might ask now that he'd told her they could talk about anything.

Go along with whatever she says, make her happy. Make yourself happy for once in your goddamn life.

Sara let her head rest against the cool glass of the car, she closed her eyes, "you okay? You haven't said anything in a while."

"I'm sorry," he cleared his throat a little.

What does she want me to say? There isn't much to make conversation about on this desolate road here…

"You feel like you made a mistake, didn't you?" Sara asked.

Gil went to say something, but words failed him. God why do I get so speechless whenever she says something to me. I've fallen back on words my whole life, how can they fail me now?

"If you do feel that way, I wish you'd just say it instead of letting me sit here not knowing what's going in your head, Grissom, because honestly…if it was a mistake, I'd rather know so I can start dealing with it."

He paused, looking quickly for a response, "It's…not that way…not at all," Gil shook his head, "I mean…I feel like I made a mistake but I don't…does that make sense to you?"

"No, not in the slightest," Sara said, sounding a little apprehensive now too.

Gil searched for the right words, and took a long time to gather any kind of sentence that would make sense to her. He pulled the car over on to the shoulder of the road. He didn't want to be driving when he said this. It seemed unfair to focus on both things at once.

"Sara…" he swallowed, "It was a mistake that I did it when I did it…not that I did it at all."

"I'm still confused…" Sara frowned a little.

"That makes two of us," Gil stared down the open road, admiring the brilliant light the sunrise was playing upon the desert.

"What is there to be so confused about?" Sara asked.

"Everything," he uttered, "What I feel, what I've done…what I'm supposed to do next, how I'm supposed to feel, what I'm supposed to know…"

Sara inhaled deeply, as to calm herself before she grew too frustrated with the situation, "what do you feel?"

"So…many…different…things," Gil said very carefully, "None of which I think I can make sense of…to anyone…least of all you."

Sara smiled somewhat sadly at him, as if she realised this was as far as her relationship with Gil Grissom was ever going to go. When Gil looked at her like that, he ached. He didn't want her to think this at all. He didn't want to be the cause of her anguish.

"Y'know…I'm not boyfriend material…" he said, "I'm nearly fifty. I'm interested in bugs more than people…I'm hopeless when it comes to relationships…the only steady relationship I've had in my life is to my job."

"And I'm supposed to care about that?" Sara asked. "We don't choose who we fall in love with, Grissom, it just happens."

That word…love. He hated hearing it come from her, it made him want to kiss her all the more. Was this her true confession? Was she finally saying in some round about way that she was in love with him? That this was more than a silly little crush – which he'd always hoped it just might be.

She'd nearly said the three words 'I love you' before – she'd been drunk and he'd managed to stop her just before it had blurted itself from her lips. But he hadn't been able to stop it this time, because he hadn't seen it coming.

"You make it sound like…I'm a high school kid looking for romance," Sara said, she looked away from him, amusement on her face. "so what if you're not 'boyfriend' material. It's not like I'm asking you to carry my books for me down the halls, or make out with me behind the bleachers or to take me to the prom…" she laughed softly, and her eyes sparkled like two onyx stones.

"Then what are you asking of me?" Gil asked, he searched her eyes for some answer, but found none there.

"I'm asking…" Sara reached over and her hand on his arm, "that you just…open up, and stop hiding."

Gil finally said what he'd been thinking for a long while, "and what if I do…and what about when you grow weary of me and look elsewhere?"

"What makes you think that'd happen?" Sara asked, a frown building again.

"Every woman who's ever gone for an older man ditches him eventually for the newer younger deluxe model," Gil responded, he shrugged, pretending as if it didn't bother him.

"I'm not every woman," Sara said, "and if I were interested in younger deluxe models I'd have gone and found one by now. But I haven't…"

That's true, Gil thought. Sure, she dated that Hank guy, but nothing seemed to become of it. She's certainly shown more interest in me for a longer stretch than any other man. Why am I holding back, why don't I just take this opportunity now?

Sara sighed, "I need some air," she admitted, and she got out of the car, she moved to the front of the SUV and stared at the sunrise. The light was playing across her beautiful face in a way that made Gil wish he had his camera on hand so that he could always keep the picture of her at that moment.

Gil stood watching her for a moment, she was standing lit up in pink and orange, her hair glistening. Stop this madness and tell her you love her. Tell her. If there was ever a more perfect moment, it's now. It's sunrise, it's romantic, you're all alone in the desert with her, and you've already told her how you feel – in a roundabout confusing way.

He got out of the car, his heart pounding in his chest like the heavy beat of a bass drum. He approached, facing her, she looked at him as he stepped forward, expectant, she looked like she wanted to say something but hesitated.

"I…" Gil began, he looked to the ground, "I just don't want to let you down...and end up hurting you…"

We're going round in circles, Gil thought. This is going all wrong, all wrong. I said tell her you love her, not tell her you're afraid of hurting her.

Sara's eyes fell to the ground just at the left of her, her head turned, "Oh," she repliedas if this had been his final word on the subject.

Great, now she thinks you're saying a big fat useless 'no'. This isn't a no…it's a maybe? No…it's most definitely a yes…I've kissed her, I can't go back now. I can't feel like this and suddenly tell myself I have to feel nothing at all. Maybe if I hadn't kissed her I could just walk away from this without too much guilt or a lot of heartache, but I have kissed her. I'm emotionally involved now. I always have been.

Sara let her hand rest on the hood of the SUV, she let out a sigh, chewed her lip momentarily, she never let her eyes rise to meet Gil's.

Look at me, Sara, he thought. Just look at me and see what's going in my head somehow, just look at me and know I want to say I love you but can't quite manage to say it.

But she didn't look at him, maybe she couldn't now. Maybe he'd already hurt her too much that she couldn't look at him anymore.

He glanced to his right, to the hood of the SUV where her hand was resting. Take her hand, his thoughts screamed, take her hand, maybe then she'll at least realise you're trying to make it work.

He put his hand down on the hood inches away from her own, but never touching it. She never even seemed to notice he'd moved in the slightest.

Come on, you've shoved your hand into the open chests of human cadavers. Surely you can take the hand of a woman.

He slid his hand forward a little, the tips of his fingers barely a centimetre from her own.

Go on, you can do it, Gil thought. Just a little further and you're there.

Drawing a nervous breath, he pushed his hand towards hers further, until the tips of his fingers were sliding up the tops of her fingers to her knuckles.

It caught her by surprise because she turned quickly to see what he was doing, her eyes landing upon their hands.

Gil felt they must have stood like that for the longest time, looking at their hands against each others. The sun continued to rise, and the sky became infinitely bluer around them. The wind in the desert picked up a little, stirring her hair, rattling sand against the ground.

Their eyes moved to meet each others at the same time, their glances tender, she'd finally let her guard down, now he could see she didn't doubt anything at all. But she seemed timid, which he felt was definitely not her style.

Is this what I do to her? He wondered. It's definitely what she does to me.

He moved closer, at the same time she did, and their foreheads touched, she closed her eyes, letting out an almost relieved sigh. With her free arm, she gingerly slid her arm around his neck to pull him in a half embrace. An embrace Gil had waited to feel for four long years.

Nervously, he took his own free arm – the one which was not attached to the hand he'd placed upon Sara's own – and he slid it around her coyly, letting his hand rest in the centre of her back.

Sara gave an uneasy laugh, he did too, it helped relieve the tension of the moment. How odd it seemed. Twenty-four hours he'd thought he'd never be able to pluck up the courage to even ask her out, let alone anything else. Now he was standing with one arm around her, his hand on her hand, and his head resting against hers…his lips had touched hers so fiercely less than two hours ago. He wasn't ready to move into another kiss just yet.

Gil took a deep breath, swallowed, and spoke for the first time in ten minutes, "Do…you still want to go to breakfast?"