Chapter 18

Heart Sore

Sara invited Gil for coffee after he had driven her home, and Gil had accepted despite he was more interested in going home and getting some sleep. He felt incredibly drained all of a sudden and now was convinced he might have forgotten to feed his tarantula. Something, he felt was possibly a result of having been more concerned with his own image than the welfare of his pets.

"Just so you know," Sara said as she was unlocking her door, "I nearly slept in for work, I had to rush around yesterday to get ready and I haven't cleaned in two days, so please try not to make a face of disgust as you see the mess," Sara opened the door to step in.

"As long as there's space on the floor to walk, I don't mind," he chuckled softly, he followed her inside. The apartment wasn't as bad as Sara had suggested.

Gil's eyes roved quickly, as was habit of someone walking into someone else's territory. There were scattered clothes on the couch, an ironing board had been left by the wall and a basket of un-pressed clothes sat beside it. A rather plain looking bra – in a rather absurd shade of purple – was hanging from the room divider beside a pair of matching cotton panties.

"Uh…" Sara grabbed them quickly off of the divider, "pretend you didn't see that. This is where I dry things," she grinned sheepishly, she moved to the basket of laundry, lifted the first item of clothing on top and hid the underwear beneath it.

Gil raised an eyebrow, "purple?"

"Don't get into the habit of asking about my underwear unless you're prepared to have me ask about yours," Sara commented, knowing it would instantly make him drop the subject.

Gil gave a slight cough, "deal," he mumbled.

Sara picked up a few CDs she'd left scattered on the table, "I didn't think I'd left the place this messy. I must have been whirling through here like the Tazmanian Devil, or something…"

"Sara, it's fine," Gil assured, he slipped his jacket off – which was splattered with the rain that had just begun to fall as he'd gotten out of the car – and hung it on the room divider. He deliberately threw her a playful look as he did so, she smirked although she tried to hide it.

Sara put the pile of CDs onto her bookshelf, and then she moved over to the kitchen to start the coffee. Gil left her to her own devices, whilst he wandered the apartment. He found another bra lying on the coffee table in front of the couch. This time it was a black lace one that somewhat intrigued him more than the other one had.

He found himself wondering how a woman could race through her apartment tossing bras and panties everywhere like confetti in this strange manner. He certainly wouldn't leave his underwear lying in his living room.

The CSI in him couldn't help but grab one of the pen's from the table, and use the capped end to pick the bra up by the strap.

Sara watched him from the counter, her expression caught between amused and livid, "investigating, are we?" she asked.

"Just wondering what purpose ladies underwear has on the coffee table," Gil answered, he raised his eyebrow, holding the pen up, the bra dangling from it.

"You won't kiss me, but you can find a world of fascination in my underwear. Would you like to just go through the rest of my underwear now and sate your curiosity?"

"It just reminded me of something."

"Oh?" Sara asked, very much interested, as if she thought he might bring up a woman who might have had a similar piece of underwear.

"Before you ever became to Vegas…we used to have these annual baseball games – I was on the team briefly …" Gil began.

"Baseball…bras…I don't see the relevance," Sara said, she was spooning fresh coffee grounds into the percolator.

"I'm getting to that," Gil assured. "So..me and Cath were on the same team…and this one particular game we were in tie with the other team. There was this one guy on the other team who was intent on making Catherine feel inferior because of her sex…she was the only woman playing."

"Stupid thing to do to make Cath feel inferior," Sara confessed.

Gil nodded, "So anyway…she was getting furious with this, as you can imagine…she whipped her t-shirt off – she's standing in this bra that's almost practically see-through – almost like this," he gestured to the bra on the pen, "ended up getting the attention of the guy who at the time was running for base, he tripped and rolled and cost his team the game, our team won, but Cath was disqualified and forbidden to play in the next annual game."

Sara laughed, "are you serious?"

"Yes," Gil answered, "someone at the lab even had photos of this game – they were on the bulletin board in the hall until she took them down," he grinned. "Should I throw this into your laundry, also?" he asked, swinging the bra on the pen.

"No, actually, that one's been worn," Sara commented casually as she took some cups from the cupboard above the counter.

Gil made a face, "then it belongs elsewhere, don't you think?" he asked, "don't you have a clothes hamper or something?"

"In the bathroom," Sara said, "you know where that is, right?"

Gil knew where her bathroom was located but he'd never been in it before, "Yes," he answered, and headed off in that direction.

Her bathroom was very tidy compared to the rest of the apartment, in fact, it was almost laboratory hygienic, which amused him somewhat. As he was dropping the bra into the white wicker hamper in the corner, he glanced around.

He was always interested in the things people kept in their homes, but bathrooms could be especially fascinating. He was always interested in finding out what people kept in their bathrooms, as it seemed to say a lot about the person and their daily rituals.

A shelf on the wall caught his eye, and he moved over to examine what sat upon it. Sara had one bottle of perfume on the shelf, which he couldn't help but take down and open to take a light sniff. Gil put it back and investigated further into her bathroom belongings. The rest of the shelf consisted of an unopened packet of soap, a bottle of shampoo and conditioner that were still sealed, some generic brand aspirin, and a glass jar filled with all manner of hair clips and bands – most of which he knew she'd never wear in her hair at all.

Then something on the shelf else caught his eye, and intrigued, he picked it up. A small white round flat box, he recognized it at once without even needing to open it.

Birth control, he thought, feeling somewhat immediately panicked. It had never occurred to him at any point she might have been on birth control, and it felt somewhat alarming.

There were a lot of new questions that arose just knowing she had birth control in her bathroom.

Is she using this already? Or is she planning on using it soon? Does she think me and her are going to…start having sex soon? Or…is she already having sex with someone else right under my nose? Maybe this…Jeremy guy…?

"What are you doing?"

Startled, he spun around to the door where Sara was standing, her arms were folded, she was looking at him quizzically.

"Uh…" he put the box on the shelf quickly, "sorry, I was just looking around," he shrugged, "I've never been in your bathroom before," he added.

"It's a bathroom…you're not going to find anything interesting in here," Sara pointed out.

Not true. What I just found is definitely interesting, he thought somberly.

"C'mon, coffee is still percolating, but we can watch the news while we wait."

Gil followed her through to the living room, glad she hadn't seemed to be aware of what he'd been looking at. They sat down on the couch, a few inches apart, and watched the news, the smell of fresh coffee began to flood the apartment, and Gil felt his tired senses begin to awaken.

When the short news programme had ended – with no real topics to catch their interest – Gil and Sara turned to look at each other. Sara was looking at his hair again as if she still couldn't quite believe it. Gil meanwhile, was still dwelling on what he'd found in her bathroom.

"Are you sure that stuff washes out?" Sara asked.

"I hope so," Gil admitted, "or I might have to consider shaving my head to get rid of it…" he touched his hair absently.

Sara reached over and touched his hair, "reminds me of the first time I saw you, your hair was this dark."

"My hair was never this dark," he grumbled.

"It looks fine, Gil, it's just…different."

"Tell that to the hundreds of staring eyes that have been following me up and down the hallways at work all day."

Sara let her fingers slide down from his hair to his temple to his jaw in one fluid motion, her thumb stroked his cheek tenderly, her eyes softened as she stared into his.

He stared back into her eyes, wishing he could be as bold as she was. There'd once been a time in his life where – although always having a somewhat painfully shy side – he'd been able to emote quite easily to women. With Sara, it was different. She meant more to him, and this seemed to complicate it all so much more.

Right now, this tender moment was the most frightening thing in the world to Gil Grissom. He'd never been in a situation where he loved someone so much it seemed to almost physically cause him pain.

Being in this situation, he felt, was like being dropped down in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean without anything to help him stay afloat. He could only swim for so long before he would eventually drown.

No…stop thinking that, he chided himself angrily. This relationship is not the Atlantic, you are not drowning, and if you were drowning, she wouldn't let you, she's the one thing that will keep you afloat.

He closed his eyes to savour the sweet way she stroked his face, and found himself wondering if this ache on his heart would ever completely subside. He'd thought that being with her as long as he had, surely now that ache would have died by now. It seemed to grow stronger, and he was scared of it.

"You okay?" Sara asked very quietly, very aware of how silent he'd been for several moments. Her voice had been so soft, no more than a breath.

"You make my heart sore…"

Gil hadn't premeditated saying this at all, but it came out so fluidly and sincerely, that he didn't regret it after having let the words spill from his lips in a soft murmur. An immense rush of delight hit him. This admission, as honest and somewhat risky as it was to declare, was exactly what he'd been trying to accomplish with her for some time – express himself honestly.

He kept his eyes closed, he didn't want to open them yet. He was scared that once he opened his eyes, the moment might fade away, and that as long as his eyes were closed, he could somehow hold onto it, as if the moment would be trapped in the infinite darkness behind his eyelids as long as he didn't open them.

Sara's warm breath tickled his lips. He felt her hand press against his chest, his heart throbbing beneath her palm.

She's touching my heart, he thought. The gesture did more than touch his heart emotionally, it seemed to inflame it, made the ache all the more stronger.

Her breath became so much hotter on his lips, she was closer, and yet, she'd paused barely a few centimeters from his face, he could sense that closeness, and he wanted to close that space between them completely.

This is it, this is the real kiss you've been waiting all this time for, he thought. If there was ever a perfect moment for you to kiss her, this would be it…

He leaned towards her, sensing where her lips were by following the direction of her soft breath. His lips barely grazed her own at first, light as the touch of a feather. He started in a series of short tender kisses, he drew his idle hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, his fingers sliding into her soft brown hair.

It felt like his very first kiss all over again, so much so that his real first kiss so many years ago faded into a lost memory he never wanted to regain.

The kisses grew longer, but remained still as tender, he buried his hands in her hair, drawing her closer to him than before. Now, the kiss was long, and lingering, with no stops in between, his lips moved expertly over hers, his fingers caressed the nape of her neck.

When he felt the kiss was becoming too heated he began to shy away, determined he would not let himself get carried away and ruin the moment. He finished in the way he'd started, with short soft kisses, letting more and more time pass between them until breathless, he stopped, and let his forehead rest against her own.

Sara was breathing just as heavily as he was, her face was so hot he could feel the heat emanating from her.

Gil drew in a deep slow breath, trying to get his excited heart to slow it's desperate beat, he stroked her cheek lovingly, and in a typical Grissom way, he absurdly remarked, "I think the coffee is ready."

I think this has been my most favourite chapter to write so far...hehe.

Thanks to the people who keep reviewing, especially the long reviews, as always, it just tickles me pink.

Special mentions to CrysWimmer, kristy87, djkittykat, wp1fan, in particular for reviews more than 2 lines long, ;)

- SS