Sara paused twice on the way to her car in order to release a huge yawn, and Grissom watched on in curiosity, simply taking in the essence of her living. It was something that he had missed-her being human, so very amazingly alive. For all that he had overlooked about her, he'd forgotten to realize how rejuvenating her passion was.
Shaking her head, she attempted to rid herself of the cobwebs of sleep creeping into her head. It was all for naught and she leaned back as she began walking, stretching the sleep from her limbs. Grissom held off from placing his hand on her back; they weren't there yet. They would be there eventually, he knew.
Their vehicles were a few cars apart, and they reached hers first. The two paused by the trunk, Sara placing her hands on the warm metal. "See you tonight, then?" She asked him, the question more of a facade for the meaning behind it. 'So we're still okay, then?' she had wanted to ask, but couldn't bring herself to say the words.
"Of course, where else would I be?"
They both smiled awkwardly and Sara turned to go. Before she could get more than an inch, he grabbed her hand, squeezing gently and allowed his awkward smile to turn into a grin. "I'll see you tonight."
Her head tilted to the side and she regarded him behind her sunglasses. "Bye..."
Inside, in the stifling heat of her vehicle, she placed her cheek against the hot leather of the steering wheel and forgot to feel; he had made her do so much of that already that the aftershocks of his words were still running through her like electric currents.
Inside his vehicle, Grissom gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He stared forward into the deep green of the dumpster resting in front of his truck. He felt ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter and his head tingled with a wonderful sensation of fulfillment.
They both slept evenly that afternoon, Sara falling asleep with a smile, Grissom drifting off with a deep sigh.
The dynamic between the two of them didn't change when they saw each other that evening. A casual hello was their greeting, but a warm smile accompanied it, making them both feel all the much better. It was odd how such a simple gesture could mean so very much. And neither of them made too much of it, nor too little, they just appreciated the little flash of teeth to the fullest extent.
For once, finally, their eyes were open to the other, his more than hers. True, his vision was gained through slits and hers through eyes wide open... but still, they saw each other for exactly what they should have.
That evening, on a case with Warrick, he remembered Sara young and slightly innocent in her hideous tie-dye shirt, hungover but attentive. He'd noticed the jug of water by her feet, which she chugged in between lengthy questions. Two weeks after the first lecture she'd confessed to him that her roommate had convinced her to a particularly wild party by telling her it was a study session. She'd confessed that she did indeed have fun, but she was having more fun discussing gestation periods with him on the benches. There, right then and there, her honesty shown through her brown eyes and he was captured.
Bugs and beauty... and then beauty. Some sort of odd glory radiating from her. She hadn't been glamorous, she hadn't been stunning... no, she still wasn't. Well, not to anyone but him. The brown was rich and warm and he knew that those two eyes were the only ones he could ever fall into-just because it was her. She'd always been honest. She'd been caring and true, even when she'd barely known him, she'd trusted.
They'd made odd friends, so very odd.
Sara had attempted to cook him dinner one night, just for fun and ended up burning the chicken. Laughter came naturally and they both accepted it and took the salad onto her dilapidated deck and ate straight out of the large bowl, laughing and speculating and drinking wine down so fast that they wondered where it went.
That night he wanted to kiss her and she had wanted to receive, but a current was in her, one that told her the moment wasn't right. There would be a time for all of that later, later when their want was more than anything they could define. Still, they had sat that night and talked of beetles and blood spatter and anything but the fact that he was so much older than her. Anything but the real crackle in the air between them.
Neither could explain it. They still couldn't... but they tried, because they were scientists. She was amazingly smart and driven and energetic. And he, well he was brilliant and handsome and nothing she'd ever experienced, ever.
The two of them had left the lab together that night, walking over to their cars together; their hands were close, but far and she couldn't help but feel warmth at their proximity; a thirty four year old woman scared of herself, of the only man she'd ever really want to be with, it amused her and so she smiled.
Somehow, he too understood. A man nearing fifty finally understanding what it meant it to want and need; A fifty year old man opening his heart in a way he didn't think he was capable of...
Again, they reached her car before his and he tugged on her arm before she could even step in between her car and his. They were hugging in the middle of the parking lot and it felt oddly right. Sara didn't care what happened then, and buried her head into his neck, not caring, no, no, no...not caring if he pulled away just as long as she had the chance to hold him in that manner. His hand stroked slowly against her lower back and she sighed, her hot breath cascading across his neck.
"You have to go now, or I'll kiss you..." Grissom murmured, squeezing her one last time before backing up a bit.
Sara ducked her head and nodded. She wanted him to kiss her, but again, there was a time and a place and a feeling that had to be present. Their kiss wouldn't be perfect, but it would be right, they would both be so sure of that.
That night on a case with Nick and Catherine, she remembered him guiding her from the lecture hall, his hand barely grazing her back. She'd experienced a near orgasm them, simply from his voice and touch. Regaining her breath, she promised not to overreact and hadn't. No, she just fell in love.
The sugar in her coffee was much sweeter when he was around, the conversation deeper, livelier.
She had silly little girlish fantasies that all girls-all women-had. It was nice, it was comfortable, and it felt right.
It didn't, however, feel so right when she couldn't fall to sleep at night because she was thinking of him. It wasn't right when she thought beyond the course material and began to speculate on what aftershave he wore.
Numbers were exchanged, hers first. 'You're giving your number to your husband,' her mind told her at the time. She went home that night and cried like a fifteen year old, dumped on the night of the prom. She was a wreck and admonished herself for thinking such an insane thing. But it was what she had felt...
One, two, three years and they were friends. She was eating a candy cane when he called to ask her to Vegas. It was stale and gummy but she bit down on it hard when he'd asked her home-to Vegas rather. Sara had quipped something witty and dry and he'd laughed. And that was why she had agreed, because he had laughed and she pictured his face so, broken in a delightful smile; it was silly for her to then think it would be like that forever.
They were indefinable. Their want was indefinable, and he wanted to feel her lips on his.