Chapter 64

Sharing

The sun rose and the light filtered through the bedroom but Gil had still not slept a wink. Sara slept deeply, emotion having completely drained her of any energy she might have had. Gil left her in the bed alone, he went to wander around the house, trying to find things to do to keep himself from feeling idle and useless.

Now knowing Sara's secret did not help ease his mind, in fact, it only heightened the emotional stress he'd been feeling regarding what she'd been hiding from him. Now knowing, he could not rest easy.

He'd promised her he would try to help her, but now that he knew what he knew, he didn't have a clue how to do so. He'd worked with women who'd gone through similar situations to Sara's. He'd talked with them, sympathized, but at a professional level. This was different…it was personal. He didn't know how to deal with this on a personal level.

He checked his answering machine, noting the small red light blinking indicating there was a message. He hit the play button.

"Grissom…Cath here. I…uh…heard about Sara…Warrick told me. Is everything okay? Is Sara alright? Warrick said the guy had his hands around her throat...call me, okay? Let me know what's going on…"

Gil decided to ignore the message for now. He'd speak to Catherine at work tonight.

Should I even go to work tonight? Is it wise to let Sara be alone right now after that I made her tell me last night?

Gil sat at the table in the living room for the remainder of the morning, surfing through various websites, online support groups for women who'd lived through physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. He couldn't find anything there that would help him deal with Sara's problem…couldn't find any magic solution that was going to make everything go away.

He was disturbed from his online browsing when he heard Sara padding bare foot across the tiled floor. He closed exited the browser windows, and then closed laptop. He turned to see her approaching. She was wearing the button-down shirt he'd been wearing during last nights shift, it hung past her hips, stopping just above her tan thighs. The sleeves were slightly too long for her, most of her hands disappearing beneath them.

"Morning."

"You weren't there when I woke up," Sara said softly, she took a seat nearby him, let her elbow rest on the table, and propped her cheek up in it, she looked at him as if waiting for him to say something.

"I couldn't sleep," he confessed, he pushed the laptop away from him. "Do you want something to eat?" he asked.

"I thought you'd want to talk," Sara responded softly, she looked at him, "about earlier…about what happened at work…"

"Now you want to talk?" he asked in surprise.

Sara shrugged, "it's not like there's anything to hide anymore, is there?"

"I guess not," Gil chewed the inside of his cheek, he tried to think of something to say, but fell silent.

"You have to follow procedure, don't you?"

"Yes," Gil sighed, "I have to write a report on your behavior during the interrogation…I'm sorry."

Sara nodded, "I know."

"It'll go on your record…but…you won't be fired," he assured.

Sara looked away from him, she stared around the room absently.

"Because of what happened…because you were provoking the suspect…I need to be…uhm…strict, you know that," he said.

"I know."

"I'm going to suspend you for a week…"

"Oh…" Sara said, she looked crestfallen.

"Gives you enough time to get yourself together…gives me enough time to do any damage control at work…" he took off his glasses and scratched the bridge of his nose. "I know it seems harsh but—"

"No, it's fine," Sara assured, "we both agreed…getting into the relationship wouldn't change anything at work. You're still my boss…you still…have to deal with me losing it in front of a suspect as you would with any other employee."

"If it's any consolation, I've lost my cool several times and been reprimanded," he leaned back in his chair, "even been jailed for contempt of court, so…don't feel too bad."

Sara smirked just a little, "you always know just want to say to make me feel better."

Gil stood up, "Sara…I have to go to work tonight."

"I know," Sara nodded.

"But I'm kind of…"

"Afraid to leave me on my own…think I'm going to do something stupid, like get drunk or…worse?" Sara raised an eyebrow.

"I trust you won't, I just…I wish I didn't have to abandon you."

"Gil, it's fine, y'know, life goes on. Shit happens, we deal with it, we move on. I'd like to start moving on."

"Will you do me a favour?" Gil asked, he moved towards the kitchen.

"Hmm?" Sara asked, she gave a slight yawn.

"Stay here…"

"Huh?" Sara stood up slowly.

"Stay here…for the week…"

"So you can keep an eye on me?" she asked, a little hostile.

Gil wished it hadn't seemed so blatantly obvious why he'd wanted her to spend the week in his house. "Actually, uh…" he tried to come up with some other excuse, any other excuse, "Y'know, maybe I just want you here when I get home…" he shrugged. "I've never had anyone to come home to before…"

"Stop bullshitting, Gil, you suck at it. You always look so damn helpless when you try to find an excuse and come up with something as lame as that."

Gil sighed, she was probably right, he probably did have that helpless look about him. If only he had a mirror on hand to see.

"You must be pretty worried about me if you want me in your house…while you're not here," Sara tried to smile, but he could see she wasn't happy about the idea of this. "I know you're not comfortable having me here even when you're here with me…you must really trust me. I mean…for all you know I could wait until the minute you walk out that door and start raking through all your stuff, trying to find out more about you and more about who you are."

"Of course I trust you," Gil responded, he stared across the room at her, "and for your information. You could go raking around in my house to your hearts content, you're probably not going to find anything other than a stash of chocolate covered grasshoppers and a tattered old address book – which is full of work numbers."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "oh come on…no photos…no high school yearbooks…no hidden Britney Spears CDs…no pornography under the bed?"

"The only thing you'll find under my bed is the John Grisham book I use to keep the uneven post balanced."

Sara pursed her lips together, "right. So you're saying – as a guy – you don't have ANY porn whatsoever in this house," she gestured around her.

"None," Gil teased. He was lying through his back teeth. He'd hidden anything incriminating the first night she'd stayed in his bedroom. Even with her investigative skills, he doubted she'd find what she was looking for. "You know, if you want to go looking for hidden porn, you should go to work and take a look around the DNA lab. Greg always had porn stashed in there somewhere. Probably still does. I lost count of how many times I went to get a folder off a shelf and opened it to find Playboy magazines hidden way at the back."

"I know about those," Sara said, "he also has a pinup of a spread eagled naked woman inside his locker…I caught sight of it once…he slammed the locker door closed, made an excuse and left as quickly as he could," she grinned.

Gil was glad she could joke after having been so emotionally drained from the night before.

"I…shared something with you last night, Gil…something…really…really personal…" she admitted.

"I know…" he nodded, "and…don't worry, it's just between us."

"When are you going to start sharing with me?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but he could hear just enough emotion in her voice to know she was still upset.

"There's nothing to share," Gil shrugged, "what you see is what you get."

"An enigmatic man who's cryptic about everything," Sara retorted.

"Okay…y'know what…" Gil put his hands up, "I'll share…you get to ask one question, and I'll answer it."

"One question?" Sara gaped, "how am I meant to figure you out in one question."

"You're not," he grinned, he opened his fridge and peered inside.

"Is there a limit to what I can and can't ask?" she approached, arms folded comfortably over her stomach.

"Yes," Gil took out a carton of milk and placed it on the counter, "you can ask anything as long as it's not about my family, how much I earn, how much I have saved in the bank, my previous relationships – or lack there of."

"Is that all?"

"I'm just getting started…" Gil assured, "questions about my sex life – which includes any weird questions about sex whatsoever - health problems, fantasies…"

"We could be here all day," Sara pretended to look at a watch she wasn't wearing. "so…basically…I'm not allowed to ask anything."

He shrugged, "I'm sure you'll find something to ask," he gave her his most innocent expression and searched through a cupboard to find cereal.

"Damn it," Sara muttered, "no, I can't. You've left me with nothing."

Gil grinned, "cereal?"

"Okay, wait, I have one…" Sara put her hands up in realization, "have you ever deliberately broken the law – before you were a CSI."

He paused, "Uh….yes."

"How?" Sara asked.

"I said I'd answer, I didn't say I'd give an explanation," he teased. "Anyway, that's two questions. Not one."

"Damn you," Sara muttered, "how can you be so secretive? Look at you standing there with your milk and your cornflakes, a complete mystery to the universe, so smug."

Gil paused for a moment, "okay, wait here…" he instructed, and he disappeared into his bedroom. Sara poured herself a bowl of cornflakes while she waited several moments for Gil to return. Gil had to go through a locked box of things in his room to finally find what he'd been looking for.

He finally returned to her, and he placed something down on the counter, "there."

Sara swallowed her mouthful of chewed cornflakes, and picked the item up. It was a very old black and white photograph of three rows of high school kids. She stared at it, trying to make out what she was meant to be seeing.

"I'm here," Gil pointed to a particular face in the photo.

"Oh…my god, look at you…" Sara gaped, she gazed at the picture of Gil, young, thin, but with the same boyish smile he had seemed to maintain throughout his life. "You were actually good looking. Better than good looking…damn…"

"I kinda thought I still was…?" he raised an eyebrow, but he was joking. He had no such optimism that he was still slightly good looking thirty three years later.

"You definitely got better with age," Sara confessed, she had an impressed look on her face, "Am I the only one to see this?"

"Yes," he answered. "Even Cath hasn't seen that. You should feel privileged. Now I've shared, you can drop this 'sharing' discussion."

"I'm gonna scan this and put it on the bulletin board at work," she laughed.

"You dare."

Yet another blah chapter, but a bit more lighthearted than the other one I guess (as much as I could make it).

Thanks to the following lovely reviewers:

lunar47, kristy87, jbr12476, saskia2, csibugman, Wishing on the Moon, Aidrianna, NimrodDuckie, Mariposa, csi-ds9, Lgraziano, CSI-phreak, wandaa, gsr fan, alias101, djkitty, Phoenix38133, Mystical Panther, CSIfreak92, CSICubsFan, jtbwriter.

Especially to lunar47 and Wishing on the Moon for their reviews which were