Penguin Dreams
By Pheo
July 28, 2005
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sara's talking in her sleep gets Grissom thinking. Unbound Challenge. GSR Angst.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"The blood spatter is inconsistent..."
Grissom raised an eyebrow at the mumbling voice behind him. Turning, he saw Sara slung haphazardly across the breakroom couch, one long, long leg dangling from the arm. Forehead creased in a seemingly permanent state of concentration, she frowned and mumbled again in her sleep.
"No, Greg, I don't think the iguana is our suspect. His fingerprints were blue."
Baffled, Grissom crept closer, torn between feeling guilty for invading his coworker's privacy and intrigued at the prospect of delving into the subconscious of the mind that made up Sara Sidle.
Her cheek twitched and she sighed. "Double bag the cream of chicken soup so it doesn't leak on my dress."
Grissom snorted. What on earth was she dreaming?
"No, don't tell Grissom. He'll suspend me and make me eat pork." Her eyebrows drew even closer together.
Biting the inside of his jaw, Grissom frowned at the sleeping woman. Why on earth did she think that he hated her so much? Granted, he'd been a bit...standoffish...
You've been a rat bastard.
Okay, so he'd hurt her. He knew he had. It wasn't like he had tried; it just seemed that no matter the situation, he managed to transform himself into a fumbling idiot whenever she was concerned.
But she was Sara-- his Sara! She had already survived so much. He guessed that he'd always imagined her the incredible boomerang; that no matter how far she was flung, she'd always come back, stronger and better and god, just as ready for anything he would throw at her.
But not anymore.
"Of course he would. He's terrified of penguins."
He pursed his lips. Turning his back to her, was ready to go home.
Nursing a bottle from the six-pack he'd picked up on his way home, Grissom idly flipped through channels, still thinking of the slumbering brunette and how she thought he felt about her. If she only knew...
His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he'd skipped lunch that night. He picked up his cordless phone from the end table and dialed for a pizza. Salivating at the thought of a meat-lover's loaded heartburn in a box, his mouth opened and ordered a veggie pizza with extra mushrooms. Now where had that come from?
Sighing, he vowed to get Sara out of his mind. Picking up the remote, he made a conscious effort to see what was on. Settling on the Discovery Channel, he was amused to see a special on penguins. Of which I'm completely terrified.
Hovering the remote in the air, he listened intently as the British narrator informed him that Adeli penguins mated for life. Absolutely terrified.
Throat dry, he started to change the channel again when the doorbell rang. He tossed the remote onto the table as he stood up.