Bear Witness
Summary: Have you read the first four chapters? Then why are you checking here? Same story!
A/N: Part five. My response to the Unbound Challenge. First and last lines are provided. There's supposed to be a 1,000-word limit, but since I missed the previous two weeks' entries, I made this one longer. Thanks to Marlou for beta services on this and/or last week's chapter.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Same old, same old.

Chapter 5

"What is that supposed to be?" she asked with a grimace.

"Some questions are probably best left unanswered."

At Grissom's response, Sara dropped the mystery leather lashing back onto the second 'bed' in their motel room. She thought he was asleep again; after their near-kiss and the resulting embarrassment, he'd quickly heeded her suggestion to crawl back under the covers. In the ensuing silence, she'd examined the room's other sleeping apparatus. As much as she wanted a nap, there was no way she'd sleep on that thing.

That left the bed.

With Grissom.

Crossing her arms nervously, Sara tried to find a spot to focus her attention on that wasn't sexually charged. Considering their location, she had little luck. The constant barrage of Ursula and her friends was taking a toll on her. Being stuck in a motel with Grissom would be tense enough. Being stuck in an unimaginably tacky sexual getaway would be tense. Combine the two, and Sara was almost ready to walk back to Vegas.

With a resolute sigh, she turned around and faced Grissom. Her first thought was she should have stuck to staring at the fornicating teddy bears – that would have been less distracting. He was propped up on the pillows, the covers doing nothing to cover his chest. Her next thoughts were recalling the way that same flesh felt under her fingers, and how much she was anticipating what was coming next.

"You're up," she said, her mouth dropping at the salacious innuendo that waltzed right into her completely innocent statement. Grissom's shocked expression left no doubt about the way it had sounded.

Giving her head a shake, Sara dropped her eyes to the carpeting. Her mind was teetering between how dangerously quick things were moving, and how ridiculously slow things were moving. Okay, she'd admit it: she wanted Grissom – not that she would tell him that. But like this? Under these circumstances? It had to be a recipe for disaster. Already, he looked as abashed as she felt.

"Sara?"

"Sorry."

"For what?"

She looked back to find Grissom watching her carefully. Her mind noted the hint of fear in his eyes, but her body fixated on the tip of his tongue resting on his lips. Snapping her own eyes back to the floor, she rolled her shoulders.

"This whole thing. It's … awkward."

She glanced in his direction, and again his eyes conveyed his distress. At first, Sara thought it was due to their earlier encounter, but now it dawned on her that he thought she was the one that regretted what had almost happened. A raucous commotion from the neighboring room caught the attention of both of them.

"What the hell?" Grissom muttered.

"The Quackery."

"What?"

Sara shrugged again. On her foray to the vending machines, she'd passed the two traveling salesman stuck in the adjoining room. They sat outside of their door with shell-shocked expressions. They mentioned the need to find alcohol as she went by; from the giggles and duck calls emanating from the room, they must have been successful.

"The room next to us is 'The Quackery'," she explained.

Grissom's eyebrow went up as he tilted his head. "Donald? Daisy?" he mused philosophically as he listened to the quacks.

"Daffy?"

"Huey, Dewey and Louie? The possibilities are…"

"Disturbing," she finished for him.

"Sara, I…"

Looking over her shoulder, she found Grissom struggling for words. He gave her a sad look before focusing on his hands.

"I'm sorry you find being stuck with me such a bad experience."

"It's not you. It's this place," she said, smiling encouragingly at him. "I'll never look at a teddy bear the same way."

"As Freud said…"

"Let's leave Freud out of this," she urged softly. "I can't believe anyone willingly comes here. Uh, oh."

"What?"

Sara slowly turned towards him, and Grissom could see her discomfort. Her head bobbed from side to side before she let out a sigh.

"There's something you need to know."

"Oh?" he said cautiously.

"Ecklie called."

"Why?"

"Seems Cath tried to call you earlier. They have a case with bugs."

"I had my pager turned off."

"Yeah, well, Ecklie got word that you hadn't returned her messages. So he called."

"But I never talked to him."

"No," she said, wincing slightly. "I was in the bathroom drying our clothes, and I picked up your cell by mistake. I told him we were stuck at this exit until the road clears."

"Did he question why you were answering my phone?"

"Yeah. That's not all. He knows this is the only motel in the area. He guessed we were here. Together. Don't freak," she added quickly.

"I do not freak."

"Right," Sara said, smirking as she continued. "Since he knew exactly where we were, I asked him if his wife enjoyed this motel."

"So this is the getaway in the mountains Conrad and his wife like to visit."

"What! You mean he really brings his wife here?"

"You'd prefer if he brought someone other than his wife here?" Grissom asked in confusion.

"I'd rather not think what type of person enjoys this place!"

At his chuckle, she raised an eyebrow pointedly. "And Warrick knows."

"What?" Grissom asked slowly.

"You stuck him here on one of his first cases."

"Oh."

Sara stared at him quizzically. "'Oh.' That's all you have to say? You know the whole lab is going to know we got stuck here."

Grissom sat silently in the middle of the bed. Belatedly, she wished they'd at least kissed once before he closed her off. To her surprise, Grissom merely shrugged. "The road washed out. Commonsense dictates that we would be stranded somewhere together. No one at the lab will honestly think anything about this."

She started to ask him if he knew anything about Catherine, but thought better of it. They were both embarrassed, but he wasn't hiding under the bed. If anything, he seemed more comfortable in their surroundings since their embrace.

Grissom smiled hesitantly and patted the side of the mattress when an uncontrollable yawn escaped her lips. Sara hesitated, but his hopeful expression finally convinced her to take a seat. Immediately, she slid to the center of the mattress, her rear bumping into his sheet-covered thigh.

"What do they lubricate this cover with? Don't," she barked, holding up her hand in warning. "Don't answer that."

"We'll head back to Vegas soon," Grissom assured her. A loud crash of thunder picked that time to highlight the fact that the washed out road wouldn't be cleared any time in the immediate future.

She shimmied back up the mattress and turned so she was propped up against the headboard. Despite her efforts, once again Sara slid towards Grissom.

"You're hot," she said softly. When his eyes opened widely, she sat up quickly. "Feverish! You still have a fever! Oh, God," she moaned, burying her face in her hands.

"It's okay. I know what you meant. Sara, we're both adults. I think we can control ourselves," he said. "Like you, I don't find the idea of being watched by dirty bears to be enjoyable."

She peeked through her fingers, and he nodded. Grissom was right. They were adults. They could sit together calmly. Ursula's constant vigil was disturbing, but it was also a safety net. As long as they were visually assaulted by carnal teddy bears, nothing was going to happen that either of them would later regret. Smiling, she settled back on the pillows.

And then the lights went out.