A/N: This chapter almost killed me to write. Grissom would not react the way I wanted him to. My eternal gratitude goes to Sprogy, my beta. I might have given up this whole story if not for you.

Chapter 6

More then four hours passed before Nick dropped Sara of at her apartment. All she wanted to do was take the pain killers the doctor had proscribed for her broken toe and go to sleep. Two and a half hours sitting in a waiting room with nothing but aspirin to dull the pain had done little to improve her mood. Neither did the walking cast currently velcroed to her foot or the crutches she would be forced to use for the next weeks.

Sara reached for her keys as she approached the front door, but before she could dig them out of her pocket the door was yanked open by Grissom. Sara wasn't sure if she was pissed off that he was waiting for her like a teenager late for curfew, or relieved to know that she wouldn't have to be alone with her memories. She didn't have the chance to make up your mind.

"No cast," Grissom commented as she walked into the apartment. His voice was calm and even, as if he was making an observation about the weather, except that his words didn't make any sense. She had a cast. A large, blue, horrible thing that was wrapped around her foot. Sara narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, ready to make a sarcastic comment about his observation skills when he clarified his comment.

"Your hand. There's no cast on your hand. I thought, since you didn't bother to so much as call once in the last four hours, perhaps you had managed to also break your hand."

Oh, shit. It was never a good sign when Grissom drew into himself and resorted to sarcasm. He was either royally pissed or supremely hurt. Sara chewed on her lower lip as she braced herself to look closer at the man standing before her. Maybe he was both.

"Damn it, Sara. What do you mean by storming out of the lab like that, without saying a word? If it wasn't for Nick, I wouldn't have had a clue as to where you were. Would it have been that difficult to pick up your phone and call, if nothing else just given me the common courtesy to let me know that you were alright?" As he spoke the calm facade fell away, to be replaced by something she, or anyone else for that matter, rarely saw. Grissom angry.

"You refuse my help, and then you just disappear. Not a word. Not one word, Sara." He was angry, true, but more upset then anything. She was closing herself off from him, and he didn't know what to do about it. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. He, who had been accused of being unfeeling, detached from life, and a robot, was upset about someone else's emotional withdrawal. This wasn't just anyone, though. This was Sara. He was so overwhelmed that he couldn't sort through all that he was feeling.

Sara could feel her own temper rising. The last thing she needed right now was a lecture on manners. But she also did not need to begin what could quite possibly turn into a screaming match so she turned her back to Grissom and maneuvered herself into the kitchen. Through a miraculous feat of balancing she managed to retrieve a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water without dropping her crutches or falling. Opening up the childproof cap on the amber colored bottle proved to be a little easier.

Sara was walking out of the kitchen when she heard the tell tale click of the front door being shut. Sure enough, when she entered the living room it was empty. Grissom was gone. Limping over to the couch, Sara lowered herself slowly, leaning the crutches against the end table next to her. Swinging around, she raised her foot so that it rested on the arm of the couch opposite her.

Any anger she might have felt drained away, to be replaced by a horrible sensation of loneliness. It surprised her. She didn't want to be alone. No, that isn't quite right. She didn't want to be without him. It was a revelation to her, this need. Never before had she felt this hint of panic when a boyfriend left, not even when it was a final goodbye. She had never let anyone get close enough to affect her that strongly. Not until now.

He didn't know where he was going. Not home. His 'hermetically sealed' townhouse held no interest to him. Not after the past few months with most of his free time spent in the warm and cozy surroundings of Sara's apartment. Work was not an option either. During the daylight hours the lab belonged to Ecklie and his crew. The mood he was in, any run-in with the dayshift supervisor would not be pleasant. More then coffee pots could be destroyed.

After driving aimlessly around the city, Grissom eventually parked his car and started walking instead. He needed to do something physical to work the raw emotion out of his system. So focused on the myriad of thoughts running around in his head, he didn't take in his surroundings until he looked up and noticed that he was standing in front of an ice cream shop. Not just any ice cream store either, but the one that he had taken Sara and Maggie to the first time they had gone out together. If he had been a man who believed in fate, he might have believed he was meant to walk in this direction, at this time. Logical man of science that he was, his first thought was of the subconscious mind and its control over the physical body.

Standing still for long minutes, he stared into the window of the store, not really seeing the build as it was now. He saw instead the first time he had been there. Sara was seated across from him, dressed more casually then he was used to seeing her. He remembered the light conversation the three of them had made, and how relaxed he had felt. Weeks later they were there again, this time dressed to the nines after a performance of the Lion King.

Grissom remembered how excited Maggie was every time they came here, bouncing around the store as she picked out just the right flavor of ice cream and made the difficult decision between cup or cone. He found himself thinking of Sara, and wondering if she ever had the same experience as a child. Was there ever someone to take her out for ice cream? He tried to picture her, nine years old, sitting at one of the tables. The picture wouldn't gel. The last remnants of his anger fell away, and he silently turned his back to the store and began the long walk back to his car.

Between the cast on her foot and the pain killers she had taken, Sara decided that driving would be a bad idea. Not wanting to bother any of her friends, or explain to the why she needs a ride, Sara called for a cab. Thirty minutes later, and twenty dollars poorer, she found herself in front of Grissom's townhouse. The lights were off and her knock went unanswered, so either Grissom wasn't home or he didn't want to see her. She had her own key, but didn't feel right about using it after this morning. So she sat down on the front steps, foot elevated, prepared to wait as long as necessary.

Grissom found her an hour later, huddled on the cold concrete steps, sound asleep. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked her sleeping form. As quietly as possible he unlocked his front door, carrying the abandoned crutches inside before bending down and picking Sara up. She didn't stir until he laid her down on the bed.

"Griss?" she muttered confusedly.

"Shh. Go back to sleep, Sara." He pulled back the covers and slipped out of his clothes before joining her in the bed.

"I'm sorry, about earlier. I didn't..." She needed to make him understand.

"There's plenty of time to talk about it later, when we're both thinking more clearly. For now, I just want to sleep." He closed his eyes to signal that he was done talking about it for now.

Sara waited until she heard the tell tale slowing of his breathing that meant he was asleep. She moved in closer to him, needing to feel the touch of his skin against hers before sleep could claim her too. She was almost asleep when he shifted, throwing his arm over her waist and pulling her even closer to him. The boundaries that they drew around themselves, even now, fell away in sleep.