Author's Note: The lyrics are from "Heaven Help Me" by Wynonna. One of
the perfect Valentine's Day songs if I ever heard one. And as ever, thank
heaven for my beautiful beta readers...Ash and Anne. Thanks you two for
everything.
Chapter 2
Grissom sat in his darkened office, glasses on, listening to soft music in the background. As much as he hated doing it, he was reading files, not comprehending a single word on the pages before him.
She knew.
That simple fact changed everything. He had been battling with himself for months, ever since he had been forced to take time off for surgery. Time off gave him time to think about things other than work. About her. About this.
He knew how he felt, how he had felt for a while now. He was scared. He didn't open up easily and he didn't express emotions all that well. He had had relationships before, he wasn't some kind of animal, but all had failed miserably. He had even gone so far as to propose marriage to Adrianna. She was the first and only woman, besides his mother, that he had ever said "I love you" to. They had shared some of the same interests and she had made him pull his head out of the ant farm long enough to see something besides beetles. But in the end, it just wasn't enough.
The ring had cost him three month's salary, that being the standard, and he had been eager to present it to her. A classic movie and a late dinner had been the plan and when the time was right, he had "popped" the question.
And Adrianna had laughed. Laughed right in his face and then promptly explained to him that he was only good for the occasional date and just wasn't marriage material. That had hurt bad enough, but it was nothing compared to what she said next. She had been seeing his friend, Declan Collins, and she was in love with him, instead. That had killed him. "Sorry for leading you on, old chap."
He had left her there, sitting at the table, the soft candle light flickering, laughing. He stepped out into the rain that had began to fall, soft and cleansing, washing the hurt away, and decided that he would never go through that again. So he had walled up his heart, closed himself off, made his career his life, not made many personal attachments and had bonded more with bugs than with people.
He was alone and that had been just fine.
Until Sara had come along.
She filled his thoughts so often that he could barely remember a time when she wasn't there. He still focused on work, when needed, but she was there in the background, smiling at him. She filled his dreams, with visions of lovemaking that were gentle and soft and left him wanting more.
He had paired himself with her as often as he had been able. Not just because she was good, she was, but so that he could watch her. So he could hear her voice. See her face. Smell the scent that was Sara. He would get close to her sometimes, on the pretense to look at a piece of evidence and feel the heat radiating off of her and simply want to bask in it. She was smart, beautiful and young. Sara wasn't afraid to let people know what she thought, or how she felt. And she didn't care what people thought of her.
He found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Like a parched man to water.
He could get lost in her.
Once again, he thought to himself, he had it bad. Bad enough to know that he didn't know what to do about this and bad enough to know that he wouldn't know what to do without this. He had to do something now that she knew. The explosion had made her reveal her feelings and he admired her for that. She was so much stronger than he was. Even though he felt the same, he had told her no when she asked him for the date. He had run, not strong enough to take the next step. While recovering from the surgery, he had thought of the fact that he had almost lost her. And here he was again, looking that fact in the eyes.
But seeing Debbie's lifeless body in that shower, looking very much like the woman he loved, made him remember how short life was and intangible time really is. Maybe this case had been the proverbial kick in the pants that he needed. She knew and that brought everything to the forefront. What would he be like in five years, in ten, if he did nothing? Probably not much different that he was now, alone, only older. But if he did say something? What then? He had to do something. If he did nothing, he would lose her and that was not an option.
He pulled his glasses off and closed his eyes, laying his head on the back of the chair, listening to the music, thinking.
I could lose my vision My eyes no longer see I could lose my religion In my struggle to believe That would be a loss That would be a cross But somehow rise above But heaven help me If I ever lose your love
I've traded my innocence For the secrets of the night Felt my calloused conscience Lose its grip on wrong and right It cut me to the bone Somehow I've held on Cause I could feel your touch But Heaven help me If I ever lose you love
Cause you are the One Light That shines on me And without your love God knows where I'd be Lost without a prayer Somewhere way out there My soul would turn to dust And Heaven help me If I ever lose your love
So hold me close again Tell me it won't end And that will be enough Heaven help me If I ever lose your love
"Nice song," Catherine stood in the doorway, her shadow cutting the light coming from the hallway. "Didn't figure you for a love song kind of guy, though."
Grissom's head sprang up from the back of the chair and he opened his eyes, seeing her in the doorway. "I'm not," he stated, mildly irritated at the disruption. "Contemporary popular music is nothing more than sub-standard poetry set to music. I very seldom listen to the words...just background music. Helps me think." Grissom placed his glasses back on and looked over the top of them at Catherine. Usually that look was enough to intimidate everyone, but Catherine Willows was not everyone. She was the closest thing to a best friend Grissom had and she was a woman on a mission.
"Well, maybe you should have listened to that one. You could paraphrase it when you tell her," she slipped the statement in, entering Grissom's inner sanctum. "Mind if I sit down," she sat without waiting for a response.
"Tell who what?"
Now that the subject was out in the open, she could forge ahead with her plan. "You can play stupid with everyone else but not me, Gil. I heard about your little confession to Dr. Lurie. Everyone knows how you feel about Sara."
"Everyone" he said around the lump in his throat.
"Okay, everyone except Sara. And she's the one person who needs to hear it from you, not the rumor mill."
He bowed his head, and so Catherine had to strain to hear him. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Can't," he whispered. "I can't tell her, Cath. I don't have the words. I just don't know what to say." His voice was tinged with the frustration that he felt.
"And so you're going to continue to live in that prison you've created for the next God knows how many years because you don't know what to say? You're going to let Sara suffer like she had been just because you don't know what to say?" She wanted to reach across the desk and slap some sense into him. He needed it, he was just killing himself and Sara this way and Catherine knew that it would take a good swift kick to get him to do anything. "I knew you were scared, Gil, but I didn't know you were a selfish bastard."
Grissom flinched at the woman sitting in front of him. He knew that he deserved every word that Catherine was saying, he had said them to himself often enough. "I guess I deserve that one."
"Damn right you do. Have you ever stopped to consider what your running is doing to Sara? Have you really taken a look at her, lately? She's not looking good," her voice tinged in concern. "You almost lost her, pal. You keep this up and one day, you'll look up from that microscope and she won't be here."
"I know. Don't you think that I have been thinking about that for awhile," he bit off. He was starting to get a little angry at Catherine. She had no right to tell him how to handle his emotions. He had been doing okay for a long time, now. He had an interesting job that he enjoyed and was successful at. He had a nice, but empty, home. But all in all, those were material things. And material things didn't keep you warm at night and smile at you with a radiance that rivaled the suns.
Okay, he admitted, he hadn't. He had failed miserably in the emotion handling department and he realized that it wasn't Catherine that he was angry at, it was himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite off your head; I just don't know what to do. I feel so helpless when it comes to her, Cath. She deserves so much better than I could ever give her."
"Don't sell yourself so short. We all deserve better but it's you that she wants. That's all that counts. And I am going to assume that you want her. You don't need anything else in life, Gris, than that. Now, get out of here and tell her. If all else fails, quote Shakespeare," she winked at him as she left the room.
"Thanks," he voiced to the empty room, closing his eyes and gearing up for the confrontation that he had been avoiding.
Tonight he would tell her.
But like everything else, life doesn't adhere to schedules.
TBC
Chapter 2
Grissom sat in his darkened office, glasses on, listening to soft music in the background. As much as he hated doing it, he was reading files, not comprehending a single word on the pages before him.
She knew.
That simple fact changed everything. He had been battling with himself for months, ever since he had been forced to take time off for surgery. Time off gave him time to think about things other than work. About her. About this.
He knew how he felt, how he had felt for a while now. He was scared. He didn't open up easily and he didn't express emotions all that well. He had had relationships before, he wasn't some kind of animal, but all had failed miserably. He had even gone so far as to propose marriage to Adrianna. She was the first and only woman, besides his mother, that he had ever said "I love you" to. They had shared some of the same interests and she had made him pull his head out of the ant farm long enough to see something besides beetles. But in the end, it just wasn't enough.
The ring had cost him three month's salary, that being the standard, and he had been eager to present it to her. A classic movie and a late dinner had been the plan and when the time was right, he had "popped" the question.
And Adrianna had laughed. Laughed right in his face and then promptly explained to him that he was only good for the occasional date and just wasn't marriage material. That had hurt bad enough, but it was nothing compared to what she said next. She had been seeing his friend, Declan Collins, and she was in love with him, instead. That had killed him. "Sorry for leading you on, old chap."
He had left her there, sitting at the table, the soft candle light flickering, laughing. He stepped out into the rain that had began to fall, soft and cleansing, washing the hurt away, and decided that he would never go through that again. So he had walled up his heart, closed himself off, made his career his life, not made many personal attachments and had bonded more with bugs than with people.
He was alone and that had been just fine.
Until Sara had come along.
She filled his thoughts so often that he could barely remember a time when she wasn't there. He still focused on work, when needed, but she was there in the background, smiling at him. She filled his dreams, with visions of lovemaking that were gentle and soft and left him wanting more.
He had paired himself with her as often as he had been able. Not just because she was good, she was, but so that he could watch her. So he could hear her voice. See her face. Smell the scent that was Sara. He would get close to her sometimes, on the pretense to look at a piece of evidence and feel the heat radiating off of her and simply want to bask in it. She was smart, beautiful and young. Sara wasn't afraid to let people know what she thought, or how she felt. And she didn't care what people thought of her.
He found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Like a parched man to water.
He could get lost in her.
Once again, he thought to himself, he had it bad. Bad enough to know that he didn't know what to do about this and bad enough to know that he wouldn't know what to do without this. He had to do something now that she knew. The explosion had made her reveal her feelings and he admired her for that. She was so much stronger than he was. Even though he felt the same, he had told her no when she asked him for the date. He had run, not strong enough to take the next step. While recovering from the surgery, he had thought of the fact that he had almost lost her. And here he was again, looking that fact in the eyes.
But seeing Debbie's lifeless body in that shower, looking very much like the woman he loved, made him remember how short life was and intangible time really is. Maybe this case had been the proverbial kick in the pants that he needed. She knew and that brought everything to the forefront. What would he be like in five years, in ten, if he did nothing? Probably not much different that he was now, alone, only older. But if he did say something? What then? He had to do something. If he did nothing, he would lose her and that was not an option.
He pulled his glasses off and closed his eyes, laying his head on the back of the chair, listening to the music, thinking.
I could lose my vision My eyes no longer see I could lose my religion In my struggle to believe That would be a loss That would be a cross But somehow rise above But heaven help me If I ever lose your love
I've traded my innocence For the secrets of the night Felt my calloused conscience Lose its grip on wrong and right It cut me to the bone Somehow I've held on Cause I could feel your touch But Heaven help me If I ever lose you love
Cause you are the One Light That shines on me And without your love God knows where I'd be Lost without a prayer Somewhere way out there My soul would turn to dust And Heaven help me If I ever lose your love
So hold me close again Tell me it won't end And that will be enough Heaven help me If I ever lose your love
"Nice song," Catherine stood in the doorway, her shadow cutting the light coming from the hallway. "Didn't figure you for a love song kind of guy, though."
Grissom's head sprang up from the back of the chair and he opened his eyes, seeing her in the doorway. "I'm not," he stated, mildly irritated at the disruption. "Contemporary popular music is nothing more than sub-standard poetry set to music. I very seldom listen to the words...just background music. Helps me think." Grissom placed his glasses back on and looked over the top of them at Catherine. Usually that look was enough to intimidate everyone, but Catherine Willows was not everyone. She was the closest thing to a best friend Grissom had and she was a woman on a mission.
"Well, maybe you should have listened to that one. You could paraphrase it when you tell her," she slipped the statement in, entering Grissom's inner sanctum. "Mind if I sit down," she sat without waiting for a response.
"Tell who what?"
Now that the subject was out in the open, she could forge ahead with her plan. "You can play stupid with everyone else but not me, Gil. I heard about your little confession to Dr. Lurie. Everyone knows how you feel about Sara."
"Everyone" he said around the lump in his throat.
"Okay, everyone except Sara. And she's the one person who needs to hear it from you, not the rumor mill."
He bowed his head, and so Catherine had to strain to hear him. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Can't," he whispered. "I can't tell her, Cath. I don't have the words. I just don't know what to say." His voice was tinged with the frustration that he felt.
"And so you're going to continue to live in that prison you've created for the next God knows how many years because you don't know what to say? You're going to let Sara suffer like she had been just because you don't know what to say?" She wanted to reach across the desk and slap some sense into him. He needed it, he was just killing himself and Sara this way and Catherine knew that it would take a good swift kick to get him to do anything. "I knew you were scared, Gil, but I didn't know you were a selfish bastard."
Grissom flinched at the woman sitting in front of him. He knew that he deserved every word that Catherine was saying, he had said them to himself often enough. "I guess I deserve that one."
"Damn right you do. Have you ever stopped to consider what your running is doing to Sara? Have you really taken a look at her, lately? She's not looking good," her voice tinged in concern. "You almost lost her, pal. You keep this up and one day, you'll look up from that microscope and she won't be here."
"I know. Don't you think that I have been thinking about that for awhile," he bit off. He was starting to get a little angry at Catherine. She had no right to tell him how to handle his emotions. He had been doing okay for a long time, now. He had an interesting job that he enjoyed and was successful at. He had a nice, but empty, home. But all in all, those were material things. And material things didn't keep you warm at night and smile at you with a radiance that rivaled the suns.
Okay, he admitted, he hadn't. He had failed miserably in the emotion handling department and he realized that it wasn't Catherine that he was angry at, it was himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite off your head; I just don't know what to do. I feel so helpless when it comes to her, Cath. She deserves so much better than I could ever give her."
"Don't sell yourself so short. We all deserve better but it's you that she wants. That's all that counts. And I am going to assume that you want her. You don't need anything else in life, Gris, than that. Now, get out of here and tell her. If all else fails, quote Shakespeare," she winked at him as she left the room.
"Thanks," he voiced to the empty room, closing his eyes and gearing up for the confrontation that he had been avoiding.
Tonight he would tell her.
But like everything else, life doesn't adhere to schedules.
TBC