DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.
Walking down the corridor and towards Grissom's office, Sara was suddenly met by Warrick who almost crushed into her. "Hey, where are you headed?" she asked cheerfully.
Warrick sighed. "Home. Bed," he replied.
Sara chuckled and tapped his arm as she passed him. "Ok. Have a nice day."
Seeing the direction Sara was taking, Warrick stopped her. "Where are you off to?"
Sara turned around to face him. "Grissom."
"Uh." Warrick shook his head. "Not a good idea."
"Why not?"
"He's not in his best mood right now."
"That answer suggesting that I shouldn't go in?"
"Yep."
Sara looked at the door and then shifted her gaze back at him. "I think…I'll… take my chances," she nodded, rushing the last three words.
"Good luck." He waved towards her and walked away, leaving Sara standing in the same place in front of the door. Being already slightly opened, Sara knocked softly on it and then just as gently pushed it forward, revealing his quiet presence behind the desk.
She stepped inside the office without receiving any sign from Grissom that her presence had been acknowledged. He appeared to be absorbed in the material he was reading, his finger and thumb holding his face, while his other hand loosely held a pencil hovering above the edge of his desk. It did not seem like a good idea for her to suddenly interrupt him like this, so she quietly closed the door behind her. The click of the door managed to lift his eyes at her for only a second. By the time Sara turned around to look at him again, those blue eyes were no longer watching her. "Got a minute?" she asked.
"No," he replied; his voice was dry.
"It's about the case."
"That you solved it? Warrick told me. Congratulations."
Sara's hands placed themselves firmly on her waste as she received not a single look from her supervisor. His voice sounded dull to her. "Ok… um, bad night?" she was curious. Getting no response from him, Sara took that silence as a positive answer. "Work-related or personal?"
"I'm busy, Sara."
"'Cause if it's something to do with work I can…"
Leaning forward, Grissom finally looked up at her. "I had a long night, and had to go through the same - painful I should say - questioning session with Catherine, so please… spare me, alright?"
Sara smiled tenderly. "You're not upset about the whole crossword thing, are you?"
Grissom smirked. "I wish that was the reason."
"So, it's not about work."
"It is about work… Politics makes a person very ugly, both outside and inside," was his final response to the building questions from Sara.
Sara felt silent for a while, watching him lean back in his seat and returning to his reading. "Yeah, it does have a way of screwing things up. Nasty pollutant."
"Is that all?"
"Um, no. My shift's over, wanna go for a walk?"
"I'm fine."
"I'm sure, but there's nothing like the nice polluted urban air to clear your mind a little."
"I'm leaving in a few minutes, so… no, thank you." He looked up at her.
"What a coincidence, so…" The colder way his eyes almost pierced through her, cut off the original sentence and replaced it with another. "Uh, ok, Griss. See you tomorrow, then?"
"As usual," he said and looked down at his papers one last time, signaling Sara that her time to leave had arrived.
"Good night," Sara said quietly and without making a sound, left his office.
When the cold night air met him after his shift had ended, Grissom inhaled, though not too deeply, as the air here was not a very pleasant one for the lungs. Feeling the bitter taste of the particles, it made him wish for another visit in the forest. Somewhere away from the angry noises of the city and more importantly, the cleaner, truly breathable air. As he exhaled, his eyes closed for a few moments. Sara had been right, he really needed a walk. Damn that woman, she could be right about so many things. "Oh, look who came out of his cave?" He then heard a female voice. His eyes opened and he noticed the thin, tall woman leaning against her car with crossed arms. Grissom stopped. His car wasn't far away from hers. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked her.
Sara moved her shoulders uneasily. "No. Just wanted to make sure you kept your promise and went out."
"So, you were waiting for me."
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"Was worried."
"What's there to be worried about?"
Sara looked at him for a while. "Yeah, you're probably right. There's nothing." She shrugged and pushed herself off the vehicle's side.
Watching her pull out her keys to unlock the door, Grissom felt something shine over his head. He got an idea. Pretty gutsy, and one which required much strength but he dared to try anyway. "Up for a walk?" he asked.
Sara stopped her movements, turned around and looked at him. "Come again?"
"A walk. Or are you tired?"
"No, no, I'm not. You… wanna take a walk?"
"You said it'd be a good idea."
Sara folded her arms again. "Should I ask what changed your mind?"
Grissom looked around with his right hand stretched out as if with the intention of grasping the air. "Must be something in the polluted air," he said and looked back at her. He wasn't back to his happier mood but he managed to leave the grouchiness behind. It surprised him. He didn't know whether it had indeed been the air, the longer time he spent in his office on his own, or… something else… and his eyes were looking at it, and rather softly, if one could add.
Sara tilted her head and moved her lips while keeping a wide smile. "I didn't mean with me."
"Oh, you didn't?"
Sara shook her head. "I know you like to do these things on your own… amongst others."
"Not every time."
"No?"
"No. You don't believe me?"
"Oh, I do. It's just that… ah, never mind. Your private life is none of my business."
Grissom smiled gingerly. "And you've taken interest in that?"
"Many people around the lab do," she replied, not giving a direct answer.
Grissom nodded, somewhat amused by Sara's choice of topics. "Alright then. Coming?"
"Um," she glanced at her keys. "Sure," she agreed reluctantly.
Their feet followed the pathway drawn by the cemented ground absently, their minds not really caring where that path might end. Cars would pass by them; a few teenagers, and a woman with a dog, but beside all those brief disturbances, it was a quiet evening. Fifteen minutes passed before one of them finally decided to open their mouth. "You seem better," she said.
"What do you mean?"
"Your mood. Quite a change than that in the office earlier."
"I guess a walk can do wonders."
"It's only been fifteen minutes," Sara noted.
"For some it takes fifteen hours, for others, like me, fifteen minutes."
Sara chuckled. "God, you are completely unconvincing, Grissom."
"What, you don't think it could happen so quickly? That a walk – and once again I emphasize this being your idea – can help better a mood?"
"The second part - yes, the first one… I-uh, don't really think so. Maybe for some, but…"
"Want me to start telling jokes to convince you?"
"No! Please don't." Sara shook her head.
"Then I count on your good judgment to believe me that it's working."
Sara tilted her hand to her right and then left side as she quickly but hesitantly subdued to his request. "Fine."
The chilly air took a few bites of Sara's bare arms, letting her know how cold it could get this time of the night. Instinctively, the brunette hugged herself and began rubbing her arms to ease the goose bumps and not allow the warmth to remind her once again of a badly chosen shirt.
"Getting cold?" Grissom asked her.
"I forgot to be a good girl and take my sweater."
"Maybe you should go back."
"What? And miss the fun of a nice quiet walk such as this one? No way!"
"Ok, we'll go back."
"No, hey. I don't mind. I'm good. Aren't you cold?"
"I'm fine as I am." He sighed and cursed for not bringing a jacket at least for himself to cover her up. "You'll be the death of me one day, Miss Sidle," Grissom said and without giving it further thought, captured Sara's shoulder with his arm. Once his skin was in contact with hers, however it felt uncomfortable enough to send a shiver or two down his spine, he couldn't allow her to catch a cold.
"Um, Grissom?" Sara peaked at the gentle male fingers that softly gripped her shoulder.
"It's either that or you freeze to death… since you refuse to go back," he told her.
"But I'm telling you I'm fine." His hand on her suddenly sparked a small flame of nervousness inside her.
"And I'm telling you, it's not a good idea to disagree with your supervisor."
She didn't argue further as the pressure of Grissom's body against her own was doing her good. The shivers gradually disappeared, her lips stopped shaking, and she felt warmer. It was a pleasant embrace, even if it included only one arm, and as much as she hated to admit it, it felt soothing. Her skin didn't complain, but let his touch almost melt into it, welcoming it.
Grissom didn't look at her face. He felt nervous to do so. Holding Sara this way was bad enough for him, he didn't need any more pushes towards his own pit of cowardly nervousness. The difference in their height wasn't big, giving his face an uncomfortable nearness with hers. He pushed his head back, then to the left. He had to distance it as much as possible without making it seem odd. The closeness was giving him dangerously red signals. His arm though, loved its position. His fingers held onto her shoulder as if holding onto a delicate piece of art, strong enough not to let it slip away, but at the same time delicately enough not to break it. Constantly reminding himself that this was done with the only purpose to not let one the most valuable employees of the Las Vegas Crime Lab catch an unwanted cold, Grissom tried to let himself be loose for a while and accept the peaceful surroundings with an, subconsciously acceptable, mate.
They walked in silence. It was fitting, perhaps more than the two of them were truly willing to admit. They took a left turn. A bench was seen on the left side with an old couple sitting on it. Grissom and Sara passed them. "Oh, look, Larry," the old lady told her husband. "How often do you see a couple like this around here?"
Sara sighed, expecting a mocking comment from either of them, when she heard a completely different one.
"Not often. And this time of night. How long would you say they were married, Mildred?" the husband asked.
"Let me see… oh, ten years."
"My money's on twelve."
"I guess you could be right. How often can you walk with someone like that and enjoy being quiet with them?"
The husband chuckled. "Very rarely."
Sara swallowed. She couldn't pass the elderly couple without overhearing their conversation. It appeared sweet but at the same time a little disturbing. How could anyone think of them as a couple? Let alone in marriage. And such a long marriage?
Grissom on the other hand, smiled. He took it as a compliment and a slight relief; having not been thrown at with the comment of an older man with a younger woman. Though, the long age of the presumed married life puzzled him also.
They walked further, longer, at times slower. Somehow neither of them felt the need to rush. The rush would destroy their moments. Moments? What moments? It was only a simple walk. But neither complained nor said a word.
Then, they noticed something. The night was paler; the air was getting warmer; the sun was peaking behind the mountains and hills… from somewhere, not yet identifiable.
"Morning sure came quickly," Sara said, bewildered by the briefness of the night.
Grissom looked at his watch. His eyebrows crossed. The hand had moved… three hours ahead. "This must be some mistake," he thought and removed his arm, although it complained the moment his hand abandoned her skin. "Sara, what time is your watch?"
"Um," she glanced at it and then at his. "The same."
"Strange…"
They stopped. Grissom and Sara looked at each other. How could the time pass them so quickly? They took a step back, giving each other some distance. Subconsciously they were clearly aware of the reason, but their consciousness let them hold onto the belief that it had been some other silly reason. "We should head back," Grissom suggested.
"Yeah." Sara yawned. Only now did she realize that her body was aching for a bed and a pillow. "Need some sleep."
"We both do."
Another glance, this time longer, was exchanged and accompanied by a brief smile.
It took them a lot less time to reach their cars, perhaps because this time they rushed back to the parking lot. Both reached for the doors of their cars and looked at each other. "Good night," they wished one another and entered the vehicles.
They both needed sleep and some thoughts to themselves.
