Chapter Three: Necessary, and Altogether Impossible

Jim Brass stepped into the interrogation room to find Grissom staring blankly at Natalie Davis as she rocked back and forth, singing manically. Grissom glanced up at Jim and his face slowly transformed from vacant to horror and bewilderment. Jim walked over to him with an unsure look on his face and two officers entered to escort Natalie out of the room.

The air in the room felt thick and Grissom found it hard to breathe suddenly. Taking a heady breath, he said quietly, "She's not responding to me. She wouldn't tell me anything except that she didn't kill her." He hit head flat hand on the table and shook his head. "She won't stop singing that God-forsaken song!"

"We're not completely at a dead end here, Gil. I mean… she had to get that car out there somehow," Jim finally said. Grissom merely nodded and stood up.

After running his hands tiredly over his face, he replied, "I have to get out of here. I have to go somewhere."

"Gil, this is rough, I know." Jim's voice was low and strangely soft. Grissom's jaw clenched and his eyes dropped to the floor. "But you have to stay focused. Losing faith won't do Sara a bit of good."

Grissom felt angry at Brass for suggesting that he was losing faith, but he realized that he was right anyway. He was losing it. Keeping calm and composed is what led them to Nick and it would lead them to Sara too. He had to have faith in that. But he also needed to escape the dense, disappointing air of that interrogation room.

Grissom sighed and looked up at Jim. "I need to take a few minutes. I need to clear my head."

Jim nodded and Grissom left the interrogation room, hoping the air would change. He walked down the hallway to the water fountains and took a long drink of the sickeningly luke-warm water, trying futilely to force the lump down his throat. He felt like throwing up as images of Sara, his Sara, fighting for her life, alone and scared in the middle of the desert, flooded his mind.

He threw open the men's room door and was relieved to find no one in there. He grabbed one of the stall doors and slammed it as hard as he could. He hoped the loud noise didn't draw anyone to the bathroom. After a moment, he sulked over to a sink and stuck his hands under cold water. He splashed it onto his face and reluctantly glanced up to see his reflection. He looked pale and old. A fair amount of stubble was forming on his cheeks and he ran a rough hand over top of it.

The wonderfully clear memory of Sara shaving his five-week scruff came rushing back to him suddenly, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to smile or cry…

- - -

"It's hard I must confess
I'm banking on the rest to clear away
Cause we have spoken everything
Everything short of I love you"

"Hundred" (The Fray)

- - -

"You trust me?" Sara's asked as she smirked at him in the reflection of the mirror. She turned around, still smiling wryly, and padded over to him wielding his straight edge razor in her right hand.

He didn't answer right away. The moment seemed to call for more than a simple "yes." He was very aware at how adoringly he was gazing at her as he replied, "Intimately."

Her mouth twitched upward slightly and he knew she accepted his reply. He might have kissed her if not for the shaving cream she had gingerly and diligently applied to his face. Instead, he gave her a subtle wink and cocked his head to the side, closing his eyes in a silent gesture for her to proceed.

She laid her left had lovingly beside his right ear, perhaps to give herself leverage or maybe just to touch him. Grissom couldn't help but open his eyes and watch her for a moment. A wave of love and desire came over him as he watched her face turn serious as if she were hovered over a microscope or dusting for prints. He closed his eyes again with the realization that someone other than himself had a very sharp blade alarmingly close to his carotid artery… and he really didn't have a care.

Quite the contrary. He was enjoying it. He was feeling rather aroused by it, actually.

After a few minutes, he peeked an eye open again as she ran the blade over his chin. He found her biting her lip obviously suppressing a smile. Her eyes connected with his and a smile widened on her face.

"What?" he asked huskily and cleared his throat.

She ran her thumb over the dimple in his chin and pinched it lightly. "Nothing." Her nose scrunched up adoringly and she pursed her lips.

He let out a low chuckle and placed his hands on her hips. He lifted her shirt just enough for his fingers to make contact with her skin. He ran his thumb over her skin, then pinched her nonexistent love handles lightly just as she had done and was awarded with a tiny yelp and giggle.

She began running the blade down his left cheek, but stopped and peered up at him. "Stop smiling or you'll mess me up."

He scoffed. "Can't help it," he said in a low tone.

"Try."

"You stop smiling and then I'll stop smiling, how about that?" He raised his eyebrows pointedly and she looked back down, continuing.

"Close your eyes, then."

With one last grin, he did as he was told. She finally finished a few minutes later and wiped away the shaving cream residue with a warm wash cloth. He opened his eyes to meet hers and she cocked her head to the side to study him.

"Not bad," she finally said. "What do you think?"

Without missing a beat, Grissom replied, "Perfect."

She laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him from the edge of the counter he was leaning on. "You haven't even looked!"

"I don't have to."

"Humor me," she said and pushed him towards the mirror.

He approached the mirror and leaned into it closely to admire her work. Not a nick in sight. No missed spots. He ran his hand over the soft, newly-exposed skin.

"Just as I said. Perfect, my dear," he told her and met her eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

"Why, thank you," she smiled.

"Have you done this before?" He turned to face her and raised his eyebrows in question. Slowly, he began walking towards her.

The closer he got to her, the more her grin spread. She backed up and began shaking her head "no" from side to side, slowly. She hit the counter and her eyes widened in surprise. When he reached her, he placed a hand on either side of her and leaned on the counter. The smile on her face and in her eyes slipped away and was replaced by desire. He could feel his own desire for her burning throughout his body.

He leaned down slowly and placed a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. He lingered for a moment and felt her sigh against him. His hands left the counter and came to rest on her hips as he leaned into her more so she could feel his body's reaction to her. His lips slowly made their way up her jaw line. When he reached the sensitive spot just below her right ear, he stopped. His left hand slid around her waist and he pulled her to him in a tight embrace. She buried her face in his neck as her hands came up to hug him back.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes to take in the intensely intimate moment. And overwhelming feeling of love washed over him and he began to wonder why on Earth he found it so hard to tell her how he felt. He had no problem showing her, after all. She deserved to be told. She deserved it every day.

Her hands slid down his back and she pushed them into the back pocket of his jeans. "What are you thinking?" she murmured against his shoulder.

His heart sped up as he hesitated. Finally, he leaned into her ear and whispered huskily, "I love you, Sara." He kissed her ear and she pulled back, gazing at him lovingly.

"And I love you, Grissom," Sara said quietly and he grinned back at her, feeling utterly blissful.

She pursed her lips in that lovely way she frequently did and brought her hand up to the back of his head to pull him down to her. Their lips met in a tender, slow kiss at first until Sara nipped his bottom lip. He grunted and felt her smile against his mouth as his tongue slipped past his lips and hers.

After a few minutes of fervent kissing, Sara pulled back, breathless. She ran her hand over his now bare cheeks and smiled. He stepped back, taking both of her hands with him, and led her into the bedroom.

---

Sara had deserved to hear it. Every day. And he thanked God that his last words to her had been of love. And hoped to God that she was remembering that right now.

Sara deserved for him not to lose faith in her, either. Lord knows she never lost faith in him. No matter how badly he seemed to screw up, she always forgave him. She never gave up on him.

His latest lapse in judgment had been a big one.

Although his intentions had been innocuous, Grissom had realized all too late that it didn't look good from Sara's perspective. He had spent the entire night talking to Heather without even letting Sara know where he was or what he was doing.

That might have destroyed any amount of trust he had built with her… but she hadn't let it.

---

"What if I got it wrong?
And no poem or song…
Could put right what I got wrong,
Or make you feel I belong
What if you should decide
That you don't want me there by your side
That you don't want me there in your life."

"What If" (Coldplay)

---

He caught up with Sara as she walked across the dimly-lit parking deck towards her car.

"Sara!"

Her eyebrows raised in question as she turned around to the sound of Grissom's voice. "Hey," came an unenthusiastic reply. "I didn't know you were in the lab."

He walked closer to her and sighed. "I wasn't. I just got here."

He had just come back from Heather's house after introducing her to her granddaughter. He felt good about that, but felt that there was a horrible mess to be cleaned up with Sara. And he didn't know where to start.

"Oh."

"Where are you going?"

She looked around the parking deck and shrugged. "We closed the case."

Grissom nodded. "I know."

"And I'm tired…"

Letting out a sigh, Grissom stepped closer and took the heavy kit from Sara's hand, intending to carry it for her. "Can we talk about this?"

It was Sara's turn to give an exhausted sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm tired, Griss."

"I know, but we really need to talk about this."

"And I really need to get some sleep."

He wondered if she was just making an excuse. The case hadn't been a terribly difficult one, after all. He decided calling her out on it would be unwise. He put his hand on the small of her back and began leading her towards her car.

"Where are you going?" he asked again.

She rolled her eyes and looked over at him. "Home."

As they approached her car, he looked at her blank expression and was scared to ask which home she was referring to. But he did anyway. "Are you, um…" he stumbled and her eyebrow shot up.

"My place, Grissom. I'm going to my place." She took her kit from his hand and unlocked her doors.

He bit his lip. "Oh." She popped the trunk open and set her kit down in it. He stared at her, unsure of what to say, as usual. "I'm guessing I'm not invited."

She seemed amused by his comment and she huffed out a short, ironic laugh. "Let's put it this way: your bed is a lot more comfortable than my couch." She slammed the trunk and he winced.

He was about to comment that he would rather stay with her, even if it meant sleeping in the other room, but doubted she even wanted him there… couch or not.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Will you call me when you wake up?"

She sighed and sat down in the driver's seat, hand lingering on the door. "I'll see you tonight, Grissom." After a moment, she added, "At work."

He winced again as she closed the door and wondered if he had broken this beyond repair.

He went home, rather tired himself. He took one look at the bed and decided that the dog could have it all to himself that night. With a sad sigh, he retired to his own couch.

"Are you punishing yourself?"

Grissom's eyes shot open at the sound of Sara's voice. She was hovering above him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. A book lay half open on his chest and his glasses had slid down his nose. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping, but his neck hurt and his feet were freezing. He sat up and folded his glasses.

"You should, you know. Punish yourself," Sara said and sat down beside him.

He folded his hands and looked over at her with a sad smile. "I know."

"Why were you sleeping on the couch?"

Bruno came over and began licking his hands. "Hey, boy," he said and looked back at Sara. He took a deep breath and frowned. "Well…" he exhaled, "It's a big bed. It's a lot bigger when there is only one person in it. Feels kind of empty and… decidedly uncomfortable."

She pressed her lips together and ran her fingers over Bruno's head and down his back. "I didn't sleep very well either." She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and shrugged.

"Sara please let me explain," he pleaded in a gentle, patient voice.

She leaned back on the couch. "I'm not sure how you're going to explain this one, Griss. But by all means… explain."

He leaned back against the couch too and turned to look at her. "I'm an ass. I should have called you. You shouldn't have had to hear it from Catherine."

"That's not really an explanation. More of an apology."

For some reason, he wanted to smile. Instead, he sighed. "I know. I don't think any explanation would be sufficient, anyway. There was no excuse for my behavior."

She scoffed and a long moment of silence ensued. Finally, she turned her body more so she was facing him. "Did you sleep with her?"

His eyes widened in alarm and his head shot up. "Sara, no! I'd never do that to you!"

She shook her head and waved her hand. "No, not the other night. Have you ever slept with her?"

His features softened and he took a deep breath. "No, never."

"Hmm. Catherine thinks you have."

"Well, Catherine's clueless."

Another moment passed and Sara frowned. "I'm sorry; it's just hard to believe that nothing happened between you two, that's all." Grissom's mouth opened to reply, but Sara continued, "I mean, I saw how she looked at you. And I saw how you looked at her. The tension in that room was palpable, Grissom."

"Years ago, we kissed. That was it. Nothing ever came of it. I promise."

"But you care about her."

"Not the way I care about you."

She looked down at her hands and back up at him, a smile forming on her lips. "But you care about her," she repeated.

"I consider her a friend. I care about her the same way I care about," he paused and shrugged, "about Catherine."

"Have you ever kissed Catherine?"

He laughed and looked away. "No. No, I haven't."

She waited a moment and tugged on his shirt causing him to turn and face her. He was rewarded with a crooked smile. "You see why this would upset me. Don't you? You see why it looks bad? Why it hurt?"

He nodded and felt a crushing sense of guilt and melancholy as she admitted to him hurting her. He furrowed his eyebrows and took one of her hands in his. "Yes. I see. I'm so, so sorry."

She nodded. "I know you, Grissom. I know that when you do things like this you don't mean to hurt me. But you have to start paying attention to stuff like this. Because one day—"

He cut her off, not wanting to hear the end of that particular sentence. "Sara, I promise. I will. I'll make this up to you."

She nodded again and stood up, pulling on his arm. He stood up beside her and hugged her tightly. She pulled back and gave him a quick kiss.

"You know how you can make it up to me?"

"Name it."

"I'm craving that delicious kumquat salad you made not too long ago," she said with a smirk.

Grissom smiled as she laid her head back onto his chest and wondered what the hell he had done to deserve such a wonderfully forgiving woman in his life.

---

Grissom couldn't help but smile, but the uncomfortable lump in his throat had only grown in size as he reflected on the past. And now a nervous feeling had gripped his gut and wouldn't let go, making him feel even sicker. He had to compose himself so he could focus on finding Sara, but it was becoming increasingly difficult the more he thought about her.

He splashed his face with water again and looked up as he heard the door open.

"We may have a lead," Jim said quickly, with an urgent look on his face.

His heart skipped a beat and he took a deep breath.

"What is it?"

"Nick and Warrick may have found the tow truck service that Natalie used to get the car out to the desert. Mick's Towing Service just off the strip. You coming?"

"Yeah," Grissom breathed out and exited the bathroom with Jim.

However painful it may be to get his hopes up, he had to if it would help preserve his sanity. Thinking about the past wasn't doing him any good. He had to focus on the future. If he thought for a second that he wouldn't see Sara alive again, it would do nothing but cloud his judgment and perspective. Jim was right; it wouldn't do Sara any good to lose faith.

She had certainly never lost faith in him.

To Be Continued

Note: Once again!Thank you so much to the lovely reviewers of this story. You guys are what make me push forward with it. You're awesome. I hope you'll keep reading and reviewing!