Secret of Faith V –
A/N - Thanks once again to Phoenix for her Beta and to everyone who just keeps on reviewing, mucho thanks to you.
Sara moved quickly to the kitchen and leaned both her hands onto the countertop. She had chosen a quick escape plan to afford herself a little time to regroup. Taking a deep breath, she let it out steadily and turned to make a cup of coffee. Although her intention had been to get out of the room, there was some truth to the excuse and her need for coffee. She did really want a clear head when she finally attempted to get some sense out of him. Tossing a breath mint into her mouth she moved around the kitchen, 'who cared if it made her coffee taste like mud', at least she would feel better about breathing anywhere near him.
His words she understood; His motivations and his objectives, she did not. 'What did he want from her?' It was one question she never tired of asking herself. She had come up with many answers over the years, but never had any from him directly, and that was the aim of the conversation she intended to initiate.
As horrible as she felt this morning; having got very little sleep, and still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, she was determined to get somewhere. If she left, she knew that her chances of getting something worthwhile out of him would be severely diminished.
He wanted her to stay, and yet every time he was always the one to back away. His actions had always confused her, and she had told him so. Her motions were intuitive. She walked around the kitchen, able to find things even though she couldn't know where they would be. In a lot of ways their minds worked in very similar ways, she simply had to put her own logic into his kitchen.
Mugs were easy enough in the cupboard above the kettle-- that was just common sense. Coffee was more difficult, as he kept it with the medications. Sara couldn't help but smile. Who else would categorize their kitchen, and still put Coffee with the drugs. Something else caught her eye as she removed the jar. She hesitated for a moment but curiosity got the better of her in the end, and putting down the packet on the counter she pried the piece of paper out from between the side of the cupboard and the numerous bottles. Sara gave a closer look at it and frowned. Hearing some stirring from the other side of the room she jammed it hastily back in and pushed the cupboard closed again. That was something she would have to come back to later.
Grissom entered the kitchen to find Sara busily stirring two mugs of instant coffee. Her thoughts were running around rather like a sugar-high chipmunk. Yet her calm exterior didn't indicate this. Hiding her feelings just kept getting easier, practice makes perfect after all. She handed him the mug with a slightly forced smile.
"Feeling better?" She smiled at the slightly muddled expression on his face.
He grunted a 'yes'. He had decided apparently to get dressed, but even then it wasn't what she was used to seeing him in. She had never thought of Grissom as owning jeans, at least she hadn't seen him wearing any since she was up in San Francisco, and even then it was only once. He had been at a department barbeque, what must have been about nine years ago, she had always remembered that day and she wasn't sure why. It wasn't the first time she had met him, of that she was sure, but for some reason it had always stuck in her mind far more vividly than their initial meeting.
He was wearing a sage green T shirt that she was fairly certain she had never seen before. She had the barely controllable urge to ruffle his hair, but managed to stop herself in time, shoving her hands resolutely into her pockets - just in case she felt tempted again. There was something undeniably sexy about his whole sleepy demeanor. But she was pretty certain that tousling his hair was a sure fire way to send him running off in the opposite direction, at speed, something which was definitely not her intent.
He sat at the breakfast bar and opened the newspaper he had been holding. He muttered something about the state of the country and promptly closed it again. Strangely it didn't seem as odd to be sat drinking coffee in his apartment as she had imagined it might. There was a comfortable sort of quiet that you only get with certain people, not awkward, just noticeably there.
Grissom stood, meandering over to the refrigerator and leaning in to pull out butter and finding a pack of bagels. "Breakfast?"
"Breakfast ? at oh, 4 am." Sara gave him a slightly quizzical look.
"Yup, I'm hungry." He shrugged lightly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to be offering her breakfast at 4 o'clock in the morning. It was one thing for her to be finding it natural, it was quite another to find that he was making the effort.
"You don't feel ill? I thought you might be hung-over or something." He simply shook his head and looked expectantly at her, waiting for an answer.
Sara smiled slowly, "Yeah, sounds good." She watched him seemingly expertly spread butter, and rummage around in cupboards for spreads.
"Will this do?" He held up an unidentifiable jar, and she nodded anyway.
After all, who cares what it is? He's actually making me breakfast. I'll probably eat it anyway- so long as it's vegetarian. She was almost certain that he would remember that after what happened the last time. She still had that plant; it sat on her kitchen window sill. She had never been good at looking after plants but that one had survived much longer than most, and it was still going.
It was only once he handed her the plate, she had scrutinized it for a long moment and put it back down that she decided it would be a good idea to question the contents before she ate it -- just in case. "Uh, Griss, What is that?"
He turned from his spreading to look at her. "Marmite, I bought it when I was in London last year." He shrugged and left her still looking at the bagel. "It's vegetarian." He added as an afterthought.
"You went to London?" Sara eyed him with a bemused expression, leaving the bagel on the plate.
"Mm, Entomological Conference. UCL have an excellent department." He sucked a bit of spread from his finger and dropped the knife into the sink. "You intending on eating that, or just watching it?"
"It's up for debate. I still say it looks suspicious."
Grissom shrugged mildly, "Well if you don't want it…"
Sara inhaled deeply, wrinkled her nose, smiled contritely and pushed it to the side. "Maybe in a minute." She had to admit that the smell had put her off a little. As much as she had thought she would eat anything he had made, she was seriously considering going back on that opinion. As she folded her arms Grissom turned back to put some food away in a cupboard. He kept his back to her as he spoke.
"There are parts of last night I think I need to talk to you about." Sara looked over at him quickly, trying desperately to gauge just what he was talking about. He still had his back to her, a blatant avoidance of her eyes and it kept her from being able to read his expression. Not that she had ever really been able to read him that well. She could imagine that he would be more that likely to regret the entire evening. She would be left out in the cold yet again.
He continued slowly. "It's a little hazy, there are bits where I'm not too sure if I was imagining it or not. I need a bit of...uh, clarification."
"Which part was that?" A cautious smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, she couldn't help but imagine that his might be the same as hers. He smiled knowingly grabbing his plate and making his way over to sit on the stool next to her.
"I have the ominous feeling that I might say or do something wrong and this-this could very easily backfire on me." He looked a little tense, eerily like he had nothing left to lose. She was surprised that he was even breaching the subject at all, not to mention doing anything. After a short pause Sara decided that a little prodding was in order.
"We'll I'm not going to be able to tell you anything unless you tell me what it is you're thinking of..." She knew she was acting rather like a six year-old with all of her backing around the subject. But she had decided a while ago that she was no longer going to be the one pushing for this. He would have to put himself into that uncomfortable situation. Not her, and not again.
He extended a hand towards her hesitantly. Sara, not sure what was going on simply watched in amazement as he grasped her hand pulling her to her feet. She was still not entirely sure what was supposed to be going on and quirked her head to one side as she looked at him.
The movement was so sudden that she barely had time to process what was going to happen. It was something she had never expected from him – when he was sober anyway. He placed his hands on either side of her face looking at her only for a split second, before descending to meet her lips.
She grasped his shirt tightly between her fingers, as if daring him to try and move away. If he had she would probably have gripped all the tighter. Once she had got hold of him, she was damned if she was going to let him go without a fight.
His hands trailed down from her face, brushing his thumbs over her collarbones lightly.
She thanked whatever god was watching over her for having that mint earlier. It was a little strange that this was her first comprehensible thought was of her breath, but when stunned, people often think about the strangest things. A second later it finally struck her; he was doing this, not under the influence of either her pushing, or the alcohol. It opened up a myriad of possibilities for the future, sending her imagination into overdrive. She thought back to the events of the previous day, his confession, and the case. Details began to filter into her consciousness, the regret in his voice, his almost obsessive treatment of the case, his use of the past tense. He said he 'couldn't do it ', doesn't mean he won't in the future. Eventually she decided that it might be better to ignore the debate in her head, at least for the moment.
It was only after several minutes of reveling in his proximity before the straight thinking part of her brain finally surfaced over the sensory overload and she reluctantly broke away. She was trying desperately to suppress the glowing smile that was so close to the surface, but was failing miserably. She imagined that the light flush of her cheeks would probably give her away as it was.
She parted her lips without emitting any sound for a long moment, before forcing herself to speak. "Much as I would love to continue this, I really should go. I have…no, we have to go to work tonight, and I need a shower and a few hours of decent rest before that. No offence but that chair of yours- not conducive to a good night's sleep."
"You sleep?" He feigned a bemused expression arching an eyebrow.
"Contrary to popular opinion, yes. I'll be by later to pick you up."
Grissom's eyes abruptly widened in shock. "Pick me up for what?" His confusion was almost funny; Sara had to wonder what was going through his mind. Well, turn-about is fair play, and it was fun too. He had done his fair share of leaving her in that same position for one day.
"Work," She paused, "You have no car remember." He nodded in comprehension as she waved over her shoulder, leaving him still standing, ostensibly dazed, in the middle of his sitting room.