Chapter Five – Fear of Alone

Grissom was waiting for her when she got up in the morning, the table laid out with pancakes, toast and eggs. He watched her eat her meal, waiting until she was done before breaking the news.

"I need you to come into work today."

"Why?"

"Because we finally located a suspect."

"Who?"

"Scott Whithers. I'll explain on the way. Did you get enough sleep?"

"Not really but I'll be ok."

Grissom loaded her plate up again, refreshing her mug of coffee, adding the coffee and sugar that she sometimes needed to get going. It fascinated him that ever since a few years ago when she pointed out to him that he didn't know her at all; he had been going out of his way to do just that. He knew that she sometimes had cream and sugar in her coffee, that she preferred boiled eggs over fried, and that she liked her omelets loaded with cheese with a pinch of garlic. He knew a few of her own more personal habits, like how she sometimes chewed on her pens, that she licked the tip of her pencil before she began to write and when she was thinking she flipped her pen between her fingertips. He had made a point to learn more about her because next time she said he knew nothing, he could be prepared.

"Do you want to have a shower before we go?"

"Yeah. I really need to get changed."

Grissom watched her leave before beginning to clean up the mess that he had made making breakfast. He heard the shower run and shook off the images that made his way into his head. When she finally reemerged, her hair was still wet thanks to the fact that Grissom didn't own a hair dryer.

"You're going to get sick leaving your hair like that."

"Catherine has a dryer at work; I'll use it when we get there."

"You may not need it. I have a little outing planned for us."

"You do?"

"I am a man of many surprises. Come with me."

Sara followed him out the door, her face pulled into a frown. Grissom had indeed surprised her on more then one occasion but it was usually very indirect. Like when he gave her the plant or the book for Christmas, the plant delivered and the present sitting on her desk. He placed his hands over her eyes, pressing his chest against her back to push her forward.

"Surprise"

Sara found herself standing in front of two bikes. She looked between the bikes and Grissom, the frown still on her face.

"We're going for a bike ride?"

"We're going for a bike ride. It's about time you got some fresh air."

Grissom put on his helmet, mounting the blue bike, smiling at Sara as she continued to stare at the bike.

"Sara, you do know how to ride a bike, right?"

Sara's face moved from a frown to a deep look of disgust.

"Grissom, stop asking stupid questions. I just never pictured you ever owning a bike."

"I don't. I rent them from the store up the road."

"You should just buy your own"

"And let it get rusty while it's waiting to be ridden? Now that would be a huge waste of money. Come on, I've only hired them for an hour."

Sara did as she was told, placing the red helmet one her head and mounting the matching bike. She followed Grissom and five minutes later, she wanted to buy a bike. She could feel her heart pumping in her chest, her leg muscles burning in the same way they did when she ran, something she had not had time to do in weeks. She felt free and weightless. In the stretch home, she removed her helmet and allowed the dry Vegas wind to dry her hair, breathing in deeply the feeling of peace and happiness that threatened to consume her. It had been a long time, too long, since she had felt like this. And what made it all the more special was it was Grissom who had helped her achieve this long awaited sensation of wellbeing. They returned the bikes and began the short walk back his house, a comfortable silence falling. It was only when they were close to the front door that Sara placed her hand over his, turning him towards her.

"Thanks Gil. I needed that"

She leaned forward and pulled him into a hug. It was a movement that was a foreign concept to both of them but it felt so surprisingly right. She pulled him close and inhaled the scent of his hair, the sensation of the curls under her fingers and his body pressed against hers. He pulled back first, cutting off the embrace with a quick clearing of his throat and a short nod of his head.

"You're welcome. We should get going to work"

Sara watched him go into the home, the happy, contented feeling evaporating and leaving a heavy, black cloud hanging over her head.

His biggest fear was dying alone. To not have anyone holding his hand when the moment came, when his life chose to leave his body and for his soul to become something he had yet to figure out. He feared not having the kids he wanted, to not be able to pass down anything that he had learned in his decades on this planet. But the thing he feared more then anything else in this world, was being vulnerable, to expose himself in such a way that there would be no turning back. As he sat watching Sara chat to Catherine, Nick's arm around her shoulders in a protective, big brother move, he wanted her to know these things about him. He had let Sara in a little that morning, showing a little of himself in taking her for a bike ride. It wasn't his journal, it wasn't his habit of cleaning the toilet after almost every use or the fact that he had a thing about clean sheets but it was still part of him, part of his habit and routine. Then she had hugged him. And it had changed everything. He was back to square one and he didn't know how to get back to whatever square they had been on. Brass walked in at that point, pulling Grissom from his thoughts and back to the unpleasant task in front of him.

"Scott and Andrew Withers are here. Who wants to take who?"

Warrick glanced at Sara.

"I'll take Andrew. I talked to him at the school"

Brass nodded before looking at Grissom.

"You and I can take Scott and Sara; I need you behind the glass to tell me if there is anything familiar about him."

Sara took a deep breath and nodded following Grissom and Brass out the door. There was nothing extraordinary about the man sitting behind the glass but there was something about him that was distinctly familiar and not in a good way. Brass disappeared into the interview room, Grissom lingering for a moment by his side.

"Are you ok?"

"What makes him a suspect?"

"We found a pubic hair but there was no match in any of the computers. But when you took the DNA samples from the kids, there was a match to Scott Withers."

"Does he know what you do?"

"Yes."

"So he raped Keisha, attacked me and destroyed my apartment?"

"Yes."

"Then get in there and get his statement."

Grissom gave her a brief nod before making his way into the room, taking a seat beside Brass. This was the man who had hurt Sara; this was the man that Grissom wanted to hurt more then anything else in the world. He had learnt numerous ways to torture someone over the years, prolonging death until the last possible second. For now that could wait, all he wanted now was a statement that would close this case, giving them all the peace that they needed.

"So why did you do it? We have everything on you, except why."

Brass once again pulled Grissom from his thoughts and Grissom looked somewhere on the man's forehead, not quiet able to look him in the eye. Scott smiled at Brass, a cold glare that cut like a knife.

"My son is an athlete. She refused to change his grades, which ruined his changes of a scholarship to the most prestigious sport college in the US. She ruined it."

"So you raped her?"

"She was lucky I didn't kill her. That bitch deserved much more then that."

"Then you attacked a police officer and then broke into her home and trashed it."

"She needed to stay away."

Sara closed off after that, she didn't need to hear anymore. She continued to lurk around the corner though, waiting for her chance to confront him for herself. He came around the corner, hands behind his back, Brass and Grissom on either side of him. Sara stood in front of them, halting their process. He smiled at her.

"Sara Sidle, could not stay away huh?"

Sara ignored the comment and let her fist do the talking, punching him hard in the stomach.

"That is for attacking me."

She then brought her knee hard up between his legs, making him gasp and double over even more.

"And that was for raping my sister. That's your warning, stay away from my family."

Brass smiled at her.

"Finished?"

"Yes. I feel much better."

"Good."

Brass led Scott away, and Sara watched them, a smile on her face.

"You never should have done that Sara, he could press charges."

Sara turned to Grissom, her face pulled into a scowl.

"He raped my sister and attacked me. He's lucky that was all he got."

She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Grissom stumbling to pick up the words that he never should have said. Again.

Being in his space was awkward. She didn't know how to relax, or even where to relax. She felt the need to explore his house but something stopped her. Maybe it was the stronger need to keep him a mystery, to keep him the surprise that he continued to be. Or maybe she just didn't feel the need to invade his privacy like Scott Withers had done hers. Either way, Sara settled herself on the sofa with some well ear dogged copies of out dated Forensic Journals and some much needed microwave popcorn. And that was where Grissom found her a few hours later when he arrived home. He sniffed the air before glancing at Sara.

"Microwave popcorn, a well balanced meal if I ever saw one."

Sara smiled at him before offering him the bag.

"It tastes like the same you would get at the theater, only cheaper."

Grissom took a seat across from her, munching his popcorn seriously.

"I'm sorry for what I said Sara. I know you're angry."

"I did step over the line Grissom. You were right."

Grissom nodded and resumed eating his popcorn, finishing his handful before speaking again.

"What do you fear the most Sara?"

"Depends. I'm not a big fan of heights"

"I mean….I fear living alone, not being seen."

"I do too Grissom. Unfortunately for both of us, we tend to stick out. You with your reputation and me with my ability to assault suspects."

Grissom gave a little chuckle and relaxed further into the sofa.

"Are you scared of being forgotten?"

"Honestly? If you had asked me that question a few years ago, I would have said yes. But now, I have you and the rest of the team to remember me. That's all that really matters."

"But it doesn't help, does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"What is it truly worth when you don't have someone to share it with? A soul mate, someone to come home to after a crappy night?"

Sara leaned forward, her face close to his.

"I don't think it matters. Love is important but so if family and friendship. If you can have all three, you are a fortunate person indeed."

"How do you get there? How do you gain such rare things?"

"You're halfway there already Grissom. But if you want me advice, you need to let people see you. Going for a bike ride this morning, I saw you. And I missed not seeing you like that."

"Like what?"

"Happy."

"What about you? Are you happy?"

Sara sat back and contemplated the question for a while.

"I have a sister I never knew I had, six nieces and nephews, a brother in law and a good group of friends. I can honestly say, that yes I am happy. You?"

Grissom watched her as she watched him with her earnest brown eyes.

"I seem to be happier around you. I have no idea why, there is no reason for it but I am."

Sara sighed, her hair falling in front of her face.

"We're back to that aren't we?"

"Back to what?"

"The way we were. Side stepping each other, awkward silences. Worse still, I am living in your home."

"But I like you living here. I get to come home and see you. I get to cook for someone and share bike rides. I get to be happy."

Sara finished the last of her popcorn and stood, wiping her ands on her jeans, the grease leaving streaks on the denim.

"Are you happy because I am here, close to your side where you always seem to like me to be? Or are you happy because you like being with me? Because if this is nothing more then a power trip, I don't want to be the reason that you are happy."

Grissom opened his mouth to protest but Sara shook her head at him.

"Grissom, in the past, you've used me to stroke your ego. I know you don't do it on purpose but it hurts. You tell me to get a life, I do and then you seemed shock when I am not at your beck and call. I don't want to get hurt again Grissom, so please make sure that I make you happy for the right reasons. Have a good sleep."

Sara gave him a small smile before leaving the living room and closing her door firmly behind her. Grissom, despite his shock at her little speech, knew that she was right. He had used her admiration of him to his own advantage but he never knew that he had hurt her. And now he did, he regretted opening his mouth at all.

Sara leaned against the door and tried to fight back the tears that threatened to explode. It had taken more courage then she thought she had ever had to say what she did to Grissom and now that it was out there, there was nothing she could do to take those words back. He knew exactly where she sat on the whole situation and that scared her. What if the only reason that she made him happy was the very thing that she had pointed out to him? what if she made him happy becasue she worked so hard for his praise, for his rare smiles and touches? She wasn't quite sure what terrified her more, the fact that she could make him happy by being his pet or that she could make him happy just by being herself.