Disclaimer, etc, see first chapter
A/N: Thanks to Nikki for the amazing and fast beta! I also have no idea where this is going, so suggestions welcomed!
"You have a key, Grissom," called Sara in exasperation as she opened the door.
He was standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets and that woebegone expression on his face. Sara stepped backwards to let him in, but he didn't move.
"You weren't at our house," he began, as if that explained everything. Sara wanted to shout at him. With a great strength of will, she replied calmly.
"Your house, Grissom. Not my house. Not our house. Your house. I haven't shared a house with someone since I was in foster care."
The last part slipped out unintentionally and she winced at her admission. Grissom, however, seemed not to have noticed.
"It's only not your house because you still have this place," he replied, stubbornly.
"So now this is all my fault?" asked Sara. She was aware of her voice and temper rising, and she felt her control over her anger slipping away. Why, why did he always do that? She cursed inwardly. He'd pick at some tiny detail until she wasn't sure what the original issue had been in the first place. Well, not this time.
"Just come in. There's no need for the neighbours to hear us discuss our living situations," she told him wearily.
Once inside, Grissom stood, awkwardly.
"Er- Sara- I um, don't know why you're mad, you seemed happy to see me at the lab…" he trailed off hopelessly.
"You really don't know? The small fact that you take off for four weeks without bothering to tell me until the day before, or even tell me why? The tiny point that all the communication I get from you is a box with a cocoon in, without a letter, at that?" Forcing herself to reign in her anger, Sara stopped.
Grissom looked shocked as understanding dawned on his face.
"Sara, honey, I didn't go to Williams to get away from you!" he seemed truly shocked that she could have thought that. "God, sweetheart, how could you ever think that? I went because work has been getting me down a lot lately, not to leave you. I'm sorry, you know that I'm not used to being in a relationship,"
"No? Really? 'Cos I'm the Queen of good relationships!" she responded, with more sarcasm than she had intended.
His apology was a fair one. Sara didn't, for the life of her, understand why this man could make her fall even more in love with him and exasperate her at the same time. It was maddening.
"I missed you so much," he told her, brokenly. Sara's head snapped up from where it had been intently studying her shoes. His reply had startled her, but so had the pain in his voice. Looking into his eyes, all the breath was knocked from her lungs at the anguish there. Not able to help herself, she reached forward and touched his cheek gently.
When he flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, she said quietly, almost ironically, "Chalk- from plaster," His eyes closed at the reminder of yet another time when he had hurt her.
He pulled her closer to him, but at her slight resistance, he opened his eyes.
"You hurt me, Griss," she whispered. It was not so much her words, or even the tone of her voice, that told him what he had done. It was his sudden realisation that she was using his surname outside of work. Before he could say anything, however, she had pulled away from him.
"It's not so much that you went away; I missed you, far too much than is healthy, I'm sure, and more than I wanted to. I know work has been tough- that miniature killer case, for one thing. You needed to… gain perspective, I suppose would be the right phrase. I just don't know why you didn't even ask me about it. Then when you were gone, why didn't you write? Or call, or e-mail, at least? I presume they have the internet in Massachusetts?" Her sarcasm held no malice, only a strange sort of weary sorrow. "Don't you trust me?"
TBC?
A/N2: Please review if you can- they let me know whether or not I should continue!