Her lips quivered and her hip where his hand lay blazed. Being kissed by Grissom, returning his kiss, had been a dream – a fantasy that she'd re-lived timelessly since the first day she'd met him. Her body responded thoughtlessly to his grasping hand and she leaned against his heated frame, relishing in just being close to him.
She allowed her fingers to tentatively feel their way to the back of his neck, caressing his skin and sending shivers throughout his body. When her fingers finally entangled with the curls on the nape of his neck, a groan escaped deep from within his throat.
The kiss ended without warning.
The guttural moan had shocked Sara and sunk her heart. Her hands immediately found Grissom's chest and pushed him backward, but he didn't budge.
Grissom's stunned face wreaked even more havoc over her feelings. She covered her mouth with her hand and pushed him away with the other and this time he relented. Rapidly, she crossed the room, putting as much distance between them as possible.
"Sara?" he called.
She put her hand up, arm stretched out toward him behind her, not daring to look at his face. So far, she was able to hold back her tears, but when she glanced up toward her bookcase, a pair of dark eyes smiled down upon her.
A gasp escaped through her lips and a hot tear rolled down her cheek. What have I done? She bit her lip in an attempt to control the sobs. All thoughts had irrevocably been placed on the man in the picture as she berated herself for every move she'd allowed in the last few minutes.
Distracted by her voiceless rant, she never heard the approach of the other occupant of the room, until his hand grasped her shoulder. She spun around, the tears now rolling down her cheeks.
"Sara?" His concern was evident in his voice.
"Don't. Just don't." She tried to pass by him, but he caught her arm in his firm grasp and she was tugged backward to face him. "Why?" the question escaped through her clenched teeth.
He frowned, his eyes level under drawn brows. "What's wrong? What did I do?"
"Why did you kiss me?" she asked in a broken whisper.
Baffled at her reaction, he released her absent-mindedly. It never occurred to him that she wouldn't want his kisses. His mind was spinning with bewilderment. He stepped away from her and she retreated further from him.
He'd come over to her place to get some answers and yet, now after revealing so much, he faltered in the silence that engulfed them. Somehow, he'd managed to hurt her once again.
"I never meant to hurt you, Sara. I just," he fished for words, but none were forthcoming.
Sara's voice came out strangled. "We've been so far apart these last two years, what made you decide that now was the time to make a move?"
He stiffened at the question. "I don't want to be too late, Sara. And I feel as though the clock is ticking closer to midnight. Please tell me there's still a chance? That I'm not too late."
The look on his face, and the mixture of despair and hopefulness in his voice were too much for her. Her sobs racked her as she held her body. She couldn't lead him on. She wouldn't be put in the position of playing this game. She'd been the recipient of the hurt, she wouldn't be the instigator. Ever.
She spoke with as reasonable a voice as she could muster, "You are too late, Grissom."
He was momentarily speechless in his surprise. He'd never thought to hear those words from her, he'd feared it yes, but never truly thought he'd hear them. He moved closer, but watched her retreat a step back when he did.
At that moment, his gaze was caught by the dried flowers near her bed. Although they were long dead, they were still cared for tenderly. A thought discomfited him. "There's someone else, isn't there?"
When he heard no reply, he wheeled back to her. Tears were still streaming down her face and she sniffled, but he could see that his question had hit its target. "I thought you two had broken up. He cheated on you, for god sakes."
"Wha –," her voice broke off in mid-sentence. Surely he couldn't think that she was referring to Hank, could he? "Hank?"
Momentarily, he was stunned to actually hear the name spoken. It rankled that she said it so easily. "What could you possibly see in him? He treated you worse than… than anything I could ever do to you."
Her breath caught as she digested his words. He really believed that she was back with Hank. "Oh, no Grissom," she soothed. "I would never take Hank back into my life."
"Then who?"
She really didn't want this discussion. She'd been able to stave off most questions concerning the man that had sent her the jasmine and she kind of relished the idea of having him all to herself. Telling his name or even discussing him with Grissom would take that all away. "It's not Hank."
When he realized she wasn't going to enlighten him, he said, "We've known each other for almost a decade, Sara. Are you ready to just give that up on a whim?"
Her mood veered sharply to anger. "Known each other? What could you possibly be referring to? You don't know me and I certainly don't know you."
"We've been friends for over eight years. I would say we know each other."
"Friendship takes two, Grissom."
"I've always considered you a friend."
"Well, that's been pretty hard to believe lately."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you haven't taken a moment out of your busy schedule to notice me. Two months ago, Grissom, I was falling apart. Did you think I didn't know you recommended Nick for that promotion? Did you know that Brass had to take me aside to counsel me because he thought that I was trying to solve my problems with alcohol? No, you were there to pick me up when I finally got pulled over for drinking and driving, but you left right after dropping me off. You said we'd talk, but we never did. And even before all of that, where were you when my best friend was convicted of murder or how about when I found out Hank was cheating on me? Or, wait, here's a big one, how about telling your friend that you were in a life-altering crisis when you had to have surgery to regain your hearing?"
The last sent Grissom into shock. He hadn't thought she'd known about the surgery. And the realization that he'd purposely kept it from her, sent waves of guilt coursing through him. Her words were finding a home in his heart.
Holding up her fingers, index and thumb pinched together, she asked, "I was this close to leaving and giving up my career after the explosion in the lab. I know you took time to notice Greg after it happened, but the person you told the team was your friend, the one you trusted, you turned your back on and chastised for reacting at a crime scene badly. Damn it, Grissom. I was totally out of control and you didn't even flinch. And then to top it off, I opened the way for you to take a step in starting something more and you shut me down without a second's hesitation. Now, is that what you call friendship?"
All during her rant, she had moved toward him, backing him against the island in her dinette. Grissom was in shell shock after hearing her heated words. He knew he'd hurt her, but never realized until that moment just how much it had taken out of her. An image appeared before him –an image he had shoved to the back of his mind repeatedly – she'd been withdrawn, haggard and listless before she went on her vacation. When she'd returned it was like a new Sara or the Sara of old who still had the world in the palm of her hand.
"I'm sorry, I never realized what you were working through, Sara. If I had known,"
"Don't, I don't want to hear it. I think it would be best if you leave. I'm upset and angry now and this conversation has hit a line that I don't want to cross-over, feeling the way I do. It won't get us anywhere and we still have to work together."
He remained still. He didn't want to leave. They'd finally started talking, or at least she had, he was still having problems getting the words to slide off his tongue. Her baleful glare was enough to make him nod his head in agreement. Their conversation had become heated with no resolution in sight. He'd have to bide his time and maybe speak with her on neutral territory.
There was just one thing he had to know before he left and when she showed him to the door he turned back to her before crossing over the threshold and took a chance. "Do you love him?"
Sara sighed, "I met him on my way to India, Grissom. I don't know yet."
Strange how she remembered a previous conversation starting the same way, but it ended completely different...
"Do you love him?" he whispered.
Her eyes darted up to meet his. The question was posed at an odd moment. "Who?"
"Grissom, your boss."
Sara blinked. What had she said? When had she said it?
She shuffled underneath the sheets and pulled away from him to get a better look at his face. "Where did you get that idea?"
Aeric shrugged, "Last night, you were whimpering while you slept and you said his name," he explained. "You've mentioned him before and I got the feeling that there had been something more."
This was not a conversation she'd expected having, at any time, let alone while lying in bed. She sat up, pulling the sheets up to cover her bare breasts. She was on her knees and looking at Aeric, now propped against the headboard of the bed. She licked her lips as she thought about her reply. Did she love Grissom? She knew that she highly-esteemed him, looked up to him. She'd longed many times to be able to share their days together doing little else than reading or watching television, but then there were times, lying awake in bed where she could easily envision them together, body and soul, with nothing between them.
Her mother had once told her as a young woman that when she wondered if it was love, she should ask herself if she could envision her life without him in it. And up until recently, she couldn't. When things had become so strained between them and they barely talked or worked together, she began to live her life for herself, not for him. At one point, she had been in love with him, but somewhere along the line it had changed and she was no longer 'in love' with him.
She did, however, love him and always would.
"I guess the answer would be, yes. I do love him," she said, never wavering in her reply.
Aeric seemed to fade a little. His head dipped and he looked a bit lost. Sara reached out a hand to him, touching his bare chest then inched her fingers up to his chin. She lifted it, willing him to meet her gaze. "I said I love him, and I always will. But I'm not 'in love' with him."
His face was bleak as he heard her answer. "But you're not 'in love' with me, either." It was a statement, he already knew the answer.
An inner torment began to tear at her. Lowering her eyes, she contemplated her life that had become a bitter battle. She was certain now that she could go on without Grissom in her life. She also knew that she could do the same without Aeric. It was a crossroads and she'd chosen her own path. Now she would have to decide who would join her in her journey, if anyone. She caught a glimpse of him beneath her lowered lashes, he looked so forlorn, and it tore at her heart. She couldn't lead him on.
"No, Aeric, I'm not." Thinking it and saying it were two different things. When she said the words, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. Knowing that her words had probably left the same mark on Aeric didn't help any either. She'd come to enjoy the last couple of weeks with him and they still had two weeks left. Who knew what could happen during that short time? There were still so many things she didn't know about this man and she was willing to find out. She'd been willing with Grissom also, but, unlike Aeric, he hadn't been one to share. "I've known you for only ten days, Aeric. That's a big question at this time in our relationship."
Aeric pulled away from the headboard hurriedly and moved closer to her, his hand reached out to caress her reassuringly. "I know, I do. It's been so long since I've been in a relationship that I sometimes think that it needs to be moving at full speed. But really, the last thing I want is for time to go any faster. Before you know it, it's flown by and you wish you could go back," a lump formed in his throat as he finished, "and do it all over again."
Any novice at interrogating would have easily caught the hitch in his voice as a signal, so Sara had no trouble understanding that there was a deeper meaning to his words, something that grieved him intensely. Her hand grasped his that was still caressing her cheek and pulled it away, just far enough so that she could plant a kiss in the middle of his palm.
"What is it, Aeric? What has caused you to regret wasting time?" she coaxed soothingly.
Her soft voice urged him on, gave him the strength necessary to speak of his heartache. If nothing ever came out of this relationship other than friendship, he knew he'd found something priceless. He pulled her close to him and down to lay back on the pillows, cradling her against his side. "My work was all-consuming. It took up all of my energies and I wasted time because of it. I fell in love with my high school sweetheart. She supported me when I went to school and throughout my climb to be on top."
Sara lifted her head, squaring her eyes as she gazed at him. "Umm, you're a photographer –"
"I am now. I wasn't before." With a deep sigh, he continued, "I went to medical school. I was a surgeon."
Sara stared disbelieving eyes at him. "A surgeon?" He hadn't said he was going to be a surgeon, he said he 'had been' a surgeon. Her eyes traveled over his hair, his face and then the length of him. It was then that she noticed the fine wrinkles around his eyes. "How old are you?" she asked frankly.
He chuckled, low and deep. "I'm forty-five."
She chuckled at the irony. It would seem she always chooses the older ones. With a disbelieving shake of her head, she directed him to continue.
"Well, I wasn't top in my field, but I was good and I was aspiring high for my achievements. I worked hard, long hours. When I had time off, we spent it together. But the majority of time, when I made it home, Stephanie would already be asleep. I loved her, always had, ever since I can remember. I never strayed from her with another woman. It never even occurred to me." His voice broke and his breath became ragged. "But I did stray from her, my work ended up taking all of my time. I put it first and never even knew,"
Sara looked up and saw the anguish that his eyes betrayed. They were squeezed shut, in pain. A tear had escaped and was now slowly flowing down his cheek.
When Sara reached up to caress his cheek, he opened his eyes and stared into hers, called back to the present.
Clearing his throat, he continued, "No one was to blame; it was just a freak accident. She was driving up to our cabin near Mt.Shasta, alone. I was supposed to be with her, we were supposed to be going together, but I got called in to work. She died at the scene. I never got to say good-bye. It wasn't until later that I found out she was seven weeks pregnant."
The anguish tore at her, but she couldn't find the words to express how deeply sorry she was for him. So she hugged him tighter and then said, "I'm so sorry, Aeric."
He hugged her back, taking the comfort so willingly bestowed to him. It had been a long time since he'd talked about Stephanie.
"Is that why you became a photographer?"
Gathering himself, he answered, "I'd always had an interest in photography. Even being the high school newsletter's photographer, but, when it happened, I fell apart, my work no longer mattered. Within two months afterwards, I gave up everything. I left the house as it was and moved out – back in with my parents. They were the only ones who never attempted to get me to 'move on'. I lost touch with almost all of my friends, who had within only six months after her funeral, tried to set me up with a 'friend' or in one instance even tried taking me to a singles' bar."
While he spoke, Sara watched the emotions play over his face. The contrast from devastation and bitterness didn't surprise her. People, she knew, could be cruel.
"So, I packed up my stuff, moved back in with my parents. Actually, it was in their guest house. It took awhile, but eventually I found something to occupy my time. Photography was something I could do alone. I could either allow my mind to wander while going through the motions or as I got progressively more involved with it, I could concentrate on it enough so that I didn't remember as often."
"The way you spoke of your parents, it sounds like they were supportive of you."
"They were, are very supportive of me and anything I choose to do. I'm an only child. I was doted on, but I can honestly say I wasn't spoiled. My father was strict and my mother supported him."
Sara snuggled closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and laying her head against his shoulder. "What's that saying? 'Time heals all wounds.'"
Aeric's brow furrowed as he looked down at her.
She tilted her head up and lifted her eyes to meet his. "I've always hated that saying," she said. "The wounds might cover over, but the hurt is always there."
He knew she was speaking from her own experiences. What he didn't know was if her painful experiences included the name, Grissom.