Bear Witness
Summary: Grissom's feeling a bit exposed.
A/N: I don't know who is worse – me for thinking of this idea, or y'all for wanting more of it! Not only a second chapter, but this is also a response to this week's Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided, with 1,000 words to finish the story. Thanks to Burked and Ann for beta-ing this.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: After reading this story, do you think anyone would trust me with the rights to CSI?

Chapter 2

"You shouldn't have … you really shouldn't have."

Sara repeated the phrase as she tried to rein in her laughter. Leaning over the sink, she gripped the sides of the porcelain tightly. It was as much for support as safety – unlike the rest of the room, the inside of the sink lacked any of Ursula's romps. This motel from hell had her off-balance, and the recent events really set her off.

Grissom's peep show had to have been embarrassing for him, but it had been entertaining from her end. Besides, she deserved a laugh after today.

It wasn't so much the hideous weather, or the tedious demonstrations to troopers who only half-paid attention. It was Grissom. He had dragged her to the expo without so much as asking if she had other plans for the day. Okay, the odds that she had other plans were pretty close to nil, but he could have at least asked.

Then there was the confusing behavior. On the long drive, Grissom had actually been talkative. Passing an exit, he told her somewhat nervously about a restaurant in that town that was very good. He'd asked her about things besides work or her family problems. During their demonstrations, he'd been nice to her. He'd even smiled openly at her. What was going on with that?

Oh, dear.

Sara looked up from the sink, her laughter completely gone. The implications sank in slowly as she blinked. She didn't want to believe that Grissom had suddenly decided to make an overture. Not that it mattered; she'd blown it. Nothing in the universe turned a guy off faster than laughing at him – especially when he was nude.

"Damn."

Muttering under her breath about men, mixed signals and anthropomorphized motel murals, Sara shimmied out of her wet jeans and sweater. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around herself securely before opening the bathroom door.

Grissom was propped up in the middle of the bed, with the see-through robe tossed to the footboard. He rested against the pillows and had the sheets pulled up partway up his chest. For all of his nonchalant attitude, Sara could tell it was an act. He was upset but trying to pretend like nothing had happened.

She grabbed a box of tissues from the dresser as she went to the bed. Uncertainty made her hesitate. What had he been up to? And was she even interested? It was too weird – and being stuck in a sexual getaway really wasn't helping. Taking a seat by his side, she handed the tissues to him.

Tension filled the room, and Sara flushed dramatically when she realized it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. She was with Grissom – now totally nude – in a motel. This was insane. If nothing else, Grissom was sick. She gave her head a quick shake and with a tentative smile, she reached over to touch his forehead. That prompted him to shrug his head away.

"So, you're one of those," she said, her light manner only partially covering her concern. He had a bit of a fever, and his eyes were getting watery. A full-blown cold was coming on.

"One of what?" Grissom sniffed irritably.

"Guys that try to act all tough when they're sick. As opposed to the ones that want to be nursed for every little scratch."

When he glowered and blushed, Sara realized "nursed" probably had been the wrong term to use in their current surroundings.

"I'm not sick."

"You have a fever," she replied evenly. With an apologetic head bob, she added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh earlier."

Grissom frowned as he waved her hand away from his head. He looked away, but she could see the pain in his expression.

"It really wasn't that bad," Sara said.

He snorted in reply, and ran his eyes over her. The towel wrapped easily around her, only exposing a bit of her legs. Her tank top, while slightly damp, remained annoyingly opaque.

"I notice you didn't bother wearing the other robe."

"I'm not dumb," she answered, wincing at the way that had come out. "Besides, those sheets aren't that heavy. How embarrassed would you have been if I had worn the robe?"

Both of them blushed at her innuendo, and Sara jumped off the bed. Mentally, she scolded herself for the comment. Where had that come from? It had to be the room – all the murals had to be having a subliminal effect. And she had to admit she'd liked what she had seen earlier.

"How about something to drink?" she stammered abruptly, opening the room's mini fridge.

"What?" Grissom asked when she slammed the door quickly.

"Don't ask."

"I think I already did."

"Honey. Syrup. Whipped cream."

"Huh?"

Sara pointed to a mural on the wall beside the bed. Grissom blushed deeply. Ursula smiled as her companions demonstrated how the food items were intended to be consumed.

She stared at the floor as she walked back towards the bed. Embarrassment didn't trigger the response; it was the one place in the room free from sexually explicit teddy bears. Taking a seat on the side of the bed, Sara noted what looked like a radio on the nightstand.

"Music?"

"Why not," Grissom growled.

Sara turned the knob, noting it was an Elvis Presley song. The lyrics registered next: "Baby let me be, your lovin' teddy bear."

She slammed the switch off quickly, rolling her eyes at the accusing glare Grissom directed at her. He turned away, but not before she saw his pained look. She really had hurt his feelings. After a moment's consideration, Sara decided to use his method of comfort. Her hand brushed over his lightly before she slid her fingers between his. Grissom's eyes opened widely, and he stared at their joined hands.

"I said I was sorry. I mean it. I was laughing at this situation. Not at you."

Grissom's expression vacillated between doubt and hope, with more than a trace of panic tossed in. Flashing him a grin, Sara squeezed his hand before heading to her purse. She fished out her wallet and walked towards the door. "I saw some vending machines at the end of the hallway. I'll see if I can find us something to drink."

Sara paused at the doorway. Grissom was adorable looking. Deciding he needed both some reassurance and a tweak, she called his name. When he looked at her, she smiled wickedly.

"And speaking as a healthy female, trust me – you have no reason to be embarrassed."

With a wink, she was gone.