Secrets of Faith Pt. III

Disclaimer – Of course I don't own them… (I think some of us could do a better job than TPTB, but there you go.)

A/N – I'm still smiling from all the reviews.. you guys are too nice to me, and yeah I know that was a mean place to end…Thanks again to Phoenix for her Beta-ing skills.

To say she was surprised would be a considerable understatement. She took it to be a strictly impersonal enquiry, the thought that it might be anything else quickly driven from her brain. Even a severely drunk Grissom wouldn't propose to anyone, let alone her. She couldn't deny however that her imagination went into overdrive for a few moments. She sighed resignedly, he couldn't do it. Saying it once in a day was enough to drive the point home. "Yes… one day."

"It might be nice." He looked a little wistful and stared at some distant point on the far wall of the room. "…one day." He finally took a few sips of the water before draining the glass and firmly placing it back on the table.

He looked seemed to consider something for a moment rubbed his forehead and woozily went to stand up. "I think I forgot to set my VCR timer..."

Sara stood to follow him but found herself dismissed with a vague wave and sat down on the sofa where he had been moments before. She had to wonder how he intended to set the timer in the state he was in. She wasn't sure about him, but she certainly had problems setting hers, sober or otherwise. "What were you wanting to watch anyway?" Sara enquired craning her neck slightly to peer at his hunched figure over the VCR.

".. there was um.. something interesting on." He fumbled blindly with the buttons not making a huge amount of progress.

What a helpful description that was. "And that something interesting would be?" she prompted.

He frowned again. "documentary," was all the answer he supplied her with and realizing she would probably get nothing else out of him, she went for a different tack entirely.

'It was now or never', she reasoned. It was best to interrogate him when he was far less likely to remember later and when it was more likely she would get an answer, given the fact that his brain was probably not working on its higher functions right now. She knew that in a way she was taking advantage of his inebriated state, but she couldn't seem to muster up the self restraint to stop herself from wanting to know what went on inside his head. It had always intrigued her to a degree, but the minor glimpses she got into his complicated psyche recently simply left her wanting more.

"Why were you there Grissom? At that bar."

He shrugged without turning around or giving her an answer. She walked over to where he was sitting and slid onto her knees on the floor beside him. "There has to be a reason."

"It drowns out the sounds. Makes it quiet." He tapped the side of his head and looked directly at Sara who was simply watching him, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.

He shook his head lightly as if trying to dislodge an unpleasant image and a frown creased his face. "You always said you could hear them… I found a way to drown them out."

Sara took a sharp breath and leaned in, brushing a hand over his shoulder hesitantly.

"After so many years you think you've become immune to everything. You've seen the all the worst of what life can throw at you. But then of course something happens out of the blue that throws all you thought you felt- thought you knew, into a tailspin…Makes you realize." He paused seemingly deep in his thoughts. "I'm not immune, I never have been."

"What aren't you immune to?" a tentative question, asked into the silence that seemed to have fallen like a blanket over the room. Sara didn't really expect an answer; it was one of those questions that someone like Grissom spends his life trying to avoid.

"You..." the answer was so muted that she almost thought it hadn't been said. Yet her heart contracted at that single word. It was the sort of admission she had always dreamed of…but did it really change anything. The answer was probably not, but a girl could but hope. At least this time he had said it to her face and that was a small triumph in itself. The fact that he had several drinks did enter her mind, but just because your inhibitions are lower doesn't make the things you say any less true. In fact, now she thought about it, it meant he was unlikely to be hiding things. The silence between them extended for several seconds before he continued to speak.

"Every time I saw her it was like bad deja-vu, like it was you… an image in the corner of your eye that when you move to look at it properly it immediately moves out of reach again. I looked closely and knew it couldn't be, but other times, the similarities scared me more than you could imagine." he huffed a breath and shook his head and watched his fingers tracing a faint line down her arm, almost as if to check she were really there. "You're really here right?"

She put a couple of fingers under his chin lifting his head until he was looking into her eyes again. She nodded slowly, almost getting lost in the unsettled depths of his eyes. It took her what seemed like minutes to realize that his hand had encircled her wrist, holding it against his cheek. His fingers caressing the delicate skin on the back of her hand.

"I don't want you to be immune." A whisper of a few simple words that exposed everything she had always stopped herself from revealing before. It was a feeling of vulnerability that she had never liked, but now it was said she found it to be strangely refreshing. She only had to hope that the words were taken in the way she intended. Worst scenario, he shot her down again. Laying her dignity on the line was not something she enjoyed, but recently it seemed to have become the norm. She now also had to hope desperately that it wouldn't be for nothing.