'Grissom, if you get home and you're looking for me, I went home. Tonight's my night off, so I'm trying to get some sleep.'
Turning away from the phone, Grissom looked back toward the kitchen. Home? I thought this was home. Grissom had taken longer at work than he had expected, and he left for home so he could see Sara before he went back in for nightshift. He would only have an hour and a half to spend with her, but that was better than nothing. Grissom walked over to the stove, lifted the lid on the only pot, and sniffed the contents. Homemade marinara sauce to go with the box of penne pasta that is sitting there on the counter. Why did she leave? She called me while I was busy, and I didn't answer, and when I called her, she didn't answer. Grissom walked back over to the phone and played the message again. Sara doesn't sleep by herself; she says that all of the time. Grissom picked up the phone and quickly dialed Sara's landline. While the ringing droned in his ear, he repeated his mantra softly aloud. "Sara, come on, pick up the phone. Sara, pick up."
When her answering machine kicked in, he pleaded with her to pick up the phone, but he was met with the same silence. Deciding to head over to her apartment himself, Grissom hung up the phone, picked up his keys, and left his house.
Although Grissom had called Sara's cell phone a few times on his way over to her apartment, he still hadn't been able to reach her. Entering her apartment building, he was almost to the stairs when a voice called out to him. "Mr. Grissom, how are you?" Mrs. Harrington asked, walking down the hallway to greet him.
Grissom turned around to see who had addressed him. Oh, it's Sara's nosy, lonely landlord. "Mrs. Harrington, I'd like to get up to see Sara; is there anything that you need?" Grissom asked, anxious to get up to Sara, not wanting to deal with pleasantries.
"No, no, there isn't anything that I need. I hope Sara is feeling better now; she took quite a fall before."
"She fell?" Grissom questioned, now more concerned about her safety.
"Yes, we got back from the ER about an hour ago. She was dressed up all fancy like; I assume she was going to meet you. The dear tripped with those stilettos and fell to the landing. Women never should wear those fancy shoes; they're horrible to walk in. Anyhow, she bruised herself up pretty good, and she broke her wrist. I believe she tried calling you, but she didn't get any answer. She was pretty quiet when I brought her back. I made sure she got upstairs safely, and then I said goodnight."
"Alright, thank you, Mrs. Harrington. I should get upstairs to see how she is doing."
"You take good care of her."
Grissom nodded and started ascending the stairs when Mrs. Harrington walked back toward her apartment.
"Sara, please come to the door; I want to make sure that you're okay," Grissom spoke, knocking on her door a second time.
"Gil, please," Sara groaned, not wanting to move from her position on the couch, "I'm tired."
"But you can never sleep on your own," Grissom finished for her, "come open the door."
"You have a key," Sara responded.
Fishing the key out of his pocket, Grissom put it in the lock and opened the door the three inches that the chain lock allowed. "Sara, where are you? You need to come to the door," Grissom urged, becoming impatient with the way Sara was avoiding him.
Groaning as she pushed herself off of the couch, Sara got to her feet and walked to the door. "Grissom, you need to close the door so I can open it," Sara spoke, annoyance evident in her voice.
Grissom pulled the door closed, and moments later, Sara reopened the door. At first glance, Sara looked exhausted, and Grissom recognized the pain in her eyes. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?" Grissom asked, running a hand across her back.
"How do you…oh, Mrs. Harrington," Sara stated, shaking her head, "I'm fine; it just took a lot of time at the ER. Like I said when I called you, I'm tired."
"Apparently I missed you wearing stilettos. I guess we both missed the dinner you had started at home."
"That's the last time I wear those for you. They definitely caused more problems then they were worth. My new dress now also has wonderful scuff marks on it courtesy of the stairs."
"Oh well, as long as you're in practically one piece," Grissom joked.
Pulling away from her and taking her hands in his, Grissom ran his thumb over her cast, momentarily lost in thought. "Are you ready to go home?" Grissom emphasized.
"Griss, I can stay here for the night. My car's here; I can drive back to your place in the morning," Sara explained, "What time is it anyway? Don't you have to get to work?"
"Sara, I want to take care of you first. If I have to call in tonight, I will, if it means that you will be okay."
Sara removed her hands from Grissom's and hobbled back over to the couch. She picked up her backpack and pasted a smile on her face before she turned back toward Grissom. "Okay then, I'm ready to leave. You don't have to skip work though; I'll be fine by myself."
Not wanting to argue with her, Grissom took the backpack from Sara and wrapped his arm around her waist. After kissing her forehead, he led her out of her apartment, locking the door behind them.