Note: Once again, this chapter is very much MATURE. If you aren't into that... that's cool... but you'll have to skip this chapter then. I didn't take out very much for this site because I really want to preserve the story. Maybe I'm skating on thin ice... maybe not. But I hope not. Once again, the full version is at Geekfiction. Thanks for reading everyone. I REALLY appreciate your reviews. :)

Chapter Five: Cloud Nine

To say that Sara felt sick would be a gross understatement. She felt like someone had drained her of everything, physically and emotionally, but left her with her bittersweet memories. They were the only thing keeping her sane and she was beginning to wonder if that were even true.

Then again, perhaps they were slowly driving her mad.

She stretched her hand back out and found that it was no longer raining. It looked dark, but less dark so the sun was most likely coming up. Which meant it would get hot. No… it would get sweltering. And that was a very dreary thought.

She naturally wondered about time and how long she had been here. Time was of course relative and what seemed like days to her was more than likely only hours. After all, she was still alive. And she had enough sense about her to realize that she wouldn't be alive out here for much longer. In fact, she was quite resigned to the idea that she was going to die.

Pessimism was so much easier on the heart than optimism… sometimes.

She felt sorry for herself and she felt sorry for Grissom. After all, if she did die… he would be alone again. She would be dead. It would make no difference to her one way or the other. But he would live and he would have to mourn her. And perhaps, she really couldn't say, he would move on one day. But she didn't know.

No! Happy thoughts, Sidle. Don't do this to yourself, she thought.

She searched her brain for the happiest memory she could think of and the first thing that came to mind, was the memory of Grissom kissing her for the first time. It had been her happiest moment in a long time.

Life had been pretty bleak up until that night. That night was like a ray of light shining in a room that had been left dark for a long time.

Things got better after that kiss…

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"Oh, it's taking so long
I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh, but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
Oh, I'm never really ready."

"In Repair" (John Mayer)

--------------------

A soft knock came from the front door of Sara's little apartment and her stomach quivered a bit. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and opened the door, knowing full well who it would be.

He held a bottle of wine and a single red rose in either hand. A small grin spread across his face and she couldn't tell if he was nervous or not.

"Can I help you?" Sara asked playfully, her eyes shooting between the wine and flower.

Grissom nodded seriously. "Could that be bean curd you're cooking in there? Smells delicious."

She smirked and moved aside so that he could come in. "Ha, Ha. I prefer the term tofu. And you said you would keep an open mind."

He entered and set the wine on the counter. He turned to her and her heart skipped a beat. He was nervous when he handed her the rose and said softly, "For you."

Sara smiled shyly. "Thank you, Grissom."

"You're welcome."

She wondered if he knew what I single red rose meant. Then she wondered how much it would make him freak if she casually mentioned that it means I love you. And that made her wonder if he would say that he knew that.

But this was only their second date. No need for such thoughts… yet. So she retrieved a small, lonely vase from the cabinet under her sink and filled it with water. She could feel him watching her so she looked up and smiled at him. He leaned on the counter and cleared his throat.

"You can have a seat if you want. It should be ready in about ten minutes," she told him and he nodded but didn't move.

Yeah. He was definitely nervous. This was kind of odd, considering he wasn't all that nervous at the play. But then again, they had been in a situation where there wasn't much talking involved.

Finally, he pushed himself from the counter and began walking around the living room, looking at her bookshelf.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet and calm. "I was really disappointed we didn't get to see the ending of the play."

"Or the middle for that matter," she said with a laugh.

He nodded in agreement and gave a sigh.

Both of their phones had vibrated at the same time. They had peeled their eyes from the play and looked at each other despondently, flipping their phones open to reveal a text message. And they knew their night was over. He had taken her home so she could change and grab her own car. She wanted to kiss him, but the mood had been broken so she just thanked him for inviting her and told him she would see him shortly.

He had looked very disappointed.

"I'm sorry that happened, Sara. I was really hoping we would have a good time," he said as he turned to look at her sincerely.

Sara looked up from cutting the carrots and shook her head. "I did have a good time." He stared at her disbelievingly, but smiled and she laughed. "I did! You know… until we had to go dig a prostitute out of a dumpster."

He walked back over towards her, with a smile and a quiet chuckle. He leaned on the counter again, watching her. "Well, yeah. Until then."

She laughed and wondered briefly if talking so carelessly about the dead was acceptable, but discarded the thought. In their line of work, you couldn't take things seriously all of the time and really, it had pissed her off.

After throwing the carrots in the frying pan, she opened the refrigerator and shuffled through the collection of items on the bottom shelf, mumbling to herself about the teriyaki sauce she knew was down there somewhere.

"Ah hah! Found—" She stopped abruptly when she felt a heavy hand on her waist. She turned around with a curious grin to find Grissom staring at her intently with a compelling look about him and she knew what he was intending to do.

She swallowed as he gently took the teriyaki sauce from her hand and set it on the counter. She instinctively licked her lips as he leaned down. Their lips came into contact briefly, not even a kiss really, before Grissom pulled back. His lips hovered over hers teasingly for a second, though it felt like much longer, before he leaned back in and kissed her deeply. His hands made their way to the sides of her face as his tongue parted her lips. Sara gave a quiet, feminine moan into his mouth as his fingers began running through her hair. She gripped his jacket near the pockets and kissed him back, hard and meaningful.

Her body was screaming for oxygen, so she pulled back and took a breath with her eyes still closed. She could feel him still close to her face and when her eyes fluttered open, she found his eyes still closed and his mouth still open. She pressed her lips together and couldn't help but smile at the sight of him.

His eyes opened slowly and he cleared his throat. He swallowed and Sara's grin spread as she watched his Adam's apple move up and down.

She felt the need to say something, though she didn't know why or what. "Well—"

"I've wanted to do that since the day I met you," he said in a low tone. Her eyes widened at this admission. He looked… kind of vulnerable and maybe a little bit appalled that he had said that out loud.

But he had and this was certainly not one of those times she would let a comment like that roll away. Unfortunately, this was also one of those times she had no idea what to say so she grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him gently towards her, connecting their lips again in a slow, tender kiss.

She pulled back and whispered close to his lips, "I think dinner's almost ready."

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Sara half laughed, half groaned. That was a good memory. It seemed so long ago. They'd grown so much more comfortable with each other since then.

Which was good, but she missed the days when it was new. She couldn't remember a time when she felt happier than when she and Grissom were together. After that kiss, they were together any moment they could be. Gradually, Grissom began opening up to her a little bit more, showing her a different side of him.

He made her undeniably happy still. Sometimes he did things that upset her, but he always seemed to do or say something that made her happy again. He had gotten a lot better at that… doing something. Or saying something.

Like when he had left for Massachusetts with that rather awkward goodbye in the locker room. But that had been his fault. He should have told her sooner that he was going on a sabbatical. Sara groaned. That was definitely not a good memory.

But he had returned a month later and she was happy again. Now that was a good memory. It didn't have the happiest of beginnings, but the ending certainly was good enough to make up for it.

To her surprise, things had gotten better. Not in spite of his leaving, but because of it.

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"My heart is yours
It's you that I hold on to,
That's what I do
And I know I was wrong
But I won't let you down,
Oh yeah, I will, yeah I will, yes I will"

"Sparks" (Coldplay)

--------------------

"I was wondering when I was going to run into you."

Sara smiled behind the door of her locker at the sound of Grissom's voice. She swallowed the smile down and slowly closed the door. Grissom leaned against the doorframe, grinning at her. He looked exhausted, but in a general way, like he just needed some sleep. Truth be told, his time away had done him well… by the looks of him.

"I'm surprised you did. Things are a mess right now," she said evenly. "I was just coming to find you, actually."

"Oh?" His eyebrows rose suggestively, but subtly as he walked towards her, his hands in his pockets. That same goofy, persuasive look he had used in the hallway, planted on his face.

She wanted to step back, but held her ground. "Yeah. To talk about Keppler. How's Catherine?" She swallowed nervously under his intense gaze and glanced at the door of the locker room to make sure they didn't have an audience. He seemed to notice this and his mouth twitched upwards.

"She's shaken up, but I think she's okay."

"So what's going to happen? I mean, I don't know the whole story, but—"

She stopped short when he stepped forward into her personal space and her eyes shot to the door again. Why the hell isn't he worried about someone walking in… or even past the room? She thought as she took a small step back from him. His eyebrow shot up and he looked behind him.

"Come here," he said, taking her arm and leading her behind the lockers near the shower stalls. It was the first time he had touched her in a month and the simple gesture sent shivers down her spine. "Now," he began in a hushed tone, "I don't really know what's going to happen, but we are obviously hands off of Keppler's case." Sara nodded and he took a pause. He lowered his voice even more before adding. "But can we talk about something else?"

Sara glanced around the room, perhaps for dramatic effect. "Uh…"

"Like, you coming home with me. Right now."

"Griss… I, uh…. I can't," she exhaled and watched painfully as his face contorted in a confused expression. "I don't… I don't have any of my things at your place."

There. That was a good enough reason.

No, that was a horrible excuse and I am terribly translucent.

Good! He deserves it.

No, I don't want to hurt him.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt this confused about her emotions. On one hand, she wanted to go home with him right now and share body heat for as long as possible. But she also didn't want to make this easy for him. Why should she? He had hurt her and he should know it. There was no way she could just… pick up where they left off. She had her pride.

She was desperately lovesick. But she had her pride.

"Oh," came his reply in a heartbreakingly diminishing tone. "I see." And then he smiled. A horribly, pitiful, heart wrenching smile.

She did not want to hurt him. For all she knew, he had every intention of making it up to her. Explaining himself.

Maybe.

Feeling guilty, she quickly tried to extend her pathetic excuse, "You know, practically all of my clothes somehow found their way to your place," she laughed nervously, "So I just took everything home. My clothes, I mean. And my George Foreman grill, but that's not really—"

"No, it's okay. I didn't think you would…" he shook his head and laughed, low and sad. "Never mind."

He had expected that she would stay in his townhouse while he was gone. It just occurred to her. Another pang of guilt. It was so unfair that she was the one feeling culpable. After all… he had brought this upon them. But none of that seemed to matter when he looked and sounded so vulnerable. It wasn't a side of him she experienced very often.

He was in a sort of trance, probably analyzing the situation—searching for the right words, with his eyes glued to the floor. She sighed and stuck her arm out to lightly grab his arm.

"Hey," she said softly, mercifully, and his eyes immediately met hers. He smiled. "Why don't you come home with me instead?"

Before he could respond, his cell phone gave a shrill cry from his pocket. He frowned and reached his hand into his pocket, withdrawing the device. With a look at the screen, he rolled his eyes and grunted.

"Grissom," he said tersely into the phone. After a pause, his eyebrows joined together and he responded to the person, "No, I'm still at the lab." Pause. "They don't need to do that. They've been working around the clock." Pause. Sara yawned and Grissom looked at her with a concerned expression. "I realize that, but they need time to rest. I'll come and talk to them." Pause. "Yeah, see you in ten."

He snapped the phone shut and let out a breath. "That was Ecklie."

"I figured."

"He's on his way in. I have to—"

"I know. I understand." She shook her head from side to side. "No big deal," she reassured him as casually as possible.

She was surprised she felt relieved.

Then felt bad about that.

Fuck!

"I shouldn't be too long," he said with a frown.

"It's fine, Grissom."

"Okay, well…" he touched her shoulder and gave a crooked, apologetic smile. "You go on home and get some rest. I know you're tired." Sara nodded, hoping there would be no room for interpretation. She was tired. Very. Tired.

After all, if he didn't come over at all, temptation would be removed and she wouldn't feel so pathetic for caving in. She tried desperately not to notice the tingling that followed his hand as his fingers trailed down her arm and into to her hand. His hand lingered momentarily in hers lovingly. So lovingly, how he looked at her and she could tell he was fighting some sort of battle in his head. After a moment, he swallowed noticeably and leaned down, planting a tender kiss on her lips. He pulled back but kept his eyes closed.

"You're itching to get us caught, aren't you?" Sara whispered with a smile, still in a shameless stupor over that one small kiss.

She loved and hated how he could do that to her.

But in her defense… it had been a month.

And Grissom never acted this way at work.

But in his defense… it had been a month.

And she was silently ecstatic that a month apart had affected him this way. But she still hated the fact that his inability to conceal his obvious desire for her was aiding in her easy forgiveness of his behavior.

It was so unfair.

Grissom smiled, but ignored the question. "I'll be over as soon as I can," he said in a subdued, husky tone against her lips. Without warning, he pulled back and walked away from her, out of the locker room. She sighed and in spite of herself, chuckled. Shaking her head at her weakness for him, she gathered her things and left the building.

A few hours later, Sara was curled on her side and tucked warmly between her sheets drifting in and out of that strange place between deep sleep and slight awareness. She was slightly aware of Grissom's presence in the room and slightly aware when the shower turned on. She was even more aware when she heard Grissom rummaging through the third drawer of her dresser and withdrawing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

She smiled in her slight sleep at the fact that he was being so quiet as not to wake her.

Then smiled because that drawer was being opened for the first time in a long, grueling month. She had avoided that drawer completely, after all.

Her mind became fully aware when the other side of the mattress dipped and her body became fully aware when his, warm and familiar, molded to hers. His hand gently rested on her stomach and she could feel his breath on her neck. She shivered involuntarily, but remained still otherwise.

Good, she thought, If he falls asleep… and I fall asleep… temptation will be removed, if only slightly, and I wouldn't have conceded without at least… talking about this first.

She closed her eyes and swallowed. He was pressing into her. And he smelled so appealing that it was impossible to ignore her arousal any longer.

Oh, fuck it!

But it wasn't until his breathing became steady and deep that she whispered into the darkened room, "Are you asleep?"

Instantaneously, his body tensed and he answered in a very alert voice, "No."

She smirked for a moment, and then turned around in his arms to meet his gaze with her own unreadable one.

"Hi," he breathed out, gingerly pushing the hair away from her face.

She didn't reply, only smiled crookedly and ran her hand over his new beard. "What's going on—" she tugged lightly at the small hairs for emphasis, "here?"

He merely shrugged and grinned back at her. His eyes closed and he leaned closer to kiss her. His lips brushed against hers tentatively at first, then his hand found the back of her head and he pulled her into him more fully. After a moment of soft, affectionate kisses, he pulled back and sighed against her lips. "God, I've missed you, Sara."

His tone, his uncharacteristically vulnerable tone, stirred something inside of her and she knew that no matter what he had done or hadn't said, he had missed her. Really missed her and that's all she cared about at the moment.

She closed the remaining millimeters between them by crashing her lips to his. Her tongue parted his lips hastily. The softness was gone; the affection was still there. Just a bit more erotic.

She pushed on him, willing him to turn over onto his back. He did and she rolled on top of him, massaging him with her own body. He grunted into her heated kisses as she reached under her and pulled down his boxers.

Quickly. It was all happening so quickly.

She didn't bother removing his t-shirt, but he bunched hers up as far as he could so she pulled it off of herself and threw it on the bed. She wiggled out of her panties and positioned herself over him.

"Oh, Sara," Grissom sighed as his hands gripped at her thighs, her hips, then her thighs again.

She watched with absolute contentment as his eyes slammed shut and he inhaled and exhaled deeply. She rocked in a painfully slow motion, savoring every sound that escaped him, every facial expression he made.

"Missed you, too," Sara said breathlessly and leaned over to kiss him as the beautifully familiar feeling of warmth and ecstasy washed over her body and mind.

She leaned into his ear and whispered, "Let go" and planted a wet kiss on his ear for good measure. She pulled back to watch him as he lost control.

She relished these erotic moments when Grissom completely lost control of himself. When he became completely lost in himself. And her.

These moments were hers and hers alone.

Finally, Grissom let out a sated sigh and his sweaty hand worked its way up Sara's back. He pulled her down to his lips and kissed her thoroughly and tenderly.

She slowly pulled back from him and slid from his body, now very aware that the sex was over.

Now came the hard part: fixing things. And she hated that she didn't have much faith in him to do that.

She felt like going into the bathroom and… washing up. Stalling, actually, but anyway, she decided against it.

Instead, she waited until Grissom had removed his shirt and pulled his boxers back up that had been around his knees. To occupy herself as she thought of what to say and how to say it, she dug her own undergarments our from under the sheets and slid them back on, along with the small Peace Frogs sleep shirt she had taken off.

He lay back down and pulled her to him with a smile. Despite the fact that exertion had been minimal, his chest was sweaty and she found a strange sort of comfort in the feeling of his sweat under her palm.

"We need to talk," she finally said reluctantly.

He didn't tense or flinch. He didn't sigh forlornly. He didn't stop running his fingers lovingly through her hair. He didn't do any of the things she somehow expected him to do.

He simply replied, "Yes, I know."

The night had been full of heavy, wordless moments. And strangely enough this was one of them. Silence ensued and Sara began feeling sad again remembering how she had felt in his absence.

There were things she needed to say and she would say them. But there were things she needed to hear, too, and she was so worried he wouldn't say any of them.

At least he knew things needed to be said, and that was a step in the right direction.

"You alienated me," she finally said, the statement lacking the bitterness and dejection in might intrinsically require. She felt his chest rise as he sucked in a sharp breath. He obviously hadn't expected such a blunt acknowledgement, but she was determined so she steeled herself and continued, "I thought you were through will all of that. But I was wrong, I guess."

She intentionally said it as if it were simply an afterthought, but immediately wondered if it were such a good idea to be so nonchalant about her own feelings. It wasn't going to get her where she wanted, after all. It was merely a defense mechanism.

"Sara, I never intended to alienate you," he replied, his voice sadly quiet. "I really didn't."

"Then you shouldn't have left the way you did," she said. Her voice took on melancholy she could no longer control and she thought that now might be a good time to stop the detachment game.

Grissom shifted out from under Sara and lay on his side, facing her. His eyebrows knit together in a pained expression. She couldn't look at him for some reason so she directed her gaze to his right hand that rested between them on the terracotta-colored sheets. "I'm sorry," he said. His voice was calm and soft. "There are a lot of things I should have said and done. For that matter, a lot of things I shouldn't have done." He took a pause and Sara victoriously fought back the first wave of tears, but she still kept her eyes glued to his hand. "And I'm sorry."

Sara finally was able to look at him. He was watching her intently with his face still set in a saddened expression. Sara inhaled a deep breath and sighed. "Then why did you do it?" she grimaced. "I think I deserved to know you were leaving a lot sooner than a few days beforehand. And I think I deserved to know why." Her voice was rising slightly, to her dismay.

"I know, I know," he whispered.

"It just… I would have been the decent thing to do. So that I knew," she looked away and wiped at the tear that had fallen down her cheek. "So that I didn't have to wonder."

"What did you wonder about?"

She scoffed and narrowed her eyes on him. Regrettably her mood was gravitating towards anger. "What do you think I wondered about?"

Grissom winced and waited a moment, then replied, still in his steady calm voice, "Sara, I should have told you sooner that I was leaving. I know. But if you think I left because of you, then you were wrong." He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Very wrong."

"Grissom, I know that work had been rough for you. I know you needed a break from it. But only because I saw it myself, not because you talked to me about it. And then one day you come home and tell me you're leaving because you need some 'time away' but that's it. That's all you really say and, I don't know…" she looked away, realizing that she didn't really know what she wanted to say.

"Sara…" he began to speak, but she finished her own thought.

"The fact that you didn't tell me it had nothing to do with us, with me," she said quietly. "The fact that you did nothing to reassure me…that makes me wonder, Grissom."

Another heavy pause ensued where neither of them looked at one another. Sara felt uncomfortable and rather ill all of a sudden and wanted nothing more than to leave the room. She wasn't angry, but she was still worried he wouldn't say what she needed to hear.

It wasn't that she needed to hear him say he loved her. She knew that he did.

She doubted, now that what she needed to say had been said, that she even knew what she wanted him to tell her.

Grissom sighed and moved to lean against the headboard. He laid his head back on it and she heard the thump of his skull against the wood. She looked up at him to see his face. He looked distressed as he turned her words over in his head. Sara did as he did. She scooted up towards the headboard and sat up straight, letting her head fall back against the wood. They stared ahead blankly into the dim room.

Finally, Grissom spoke, still staring straight forward, "It's hard for me to, um," he paused and muttered something under his breath.

Sara turned her head to him. "Hmm?"

Grissom sighed again and continued, "Before we got together, the only life I had was work. I didn't have a social life to speak of. I didn't have a family life. Just… work. And then suddenly I have two lives. I have life at work and then I come home and have life with you. I thought that I could separate them, but I can't. It's impossible," he paused and Sara thought that she saw a smile grace his lips. "The happiness I experience in my life with you has undeniably spilled over into my life at work."

Sara smiled and reached down to grab his hand. He looked at her and his mouth twitched into a small smile as he brought their hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers.

Still looking at her, he continued, "I was miserable at work and I don't think, even now, I really know why. I couldn't bear the thought of that misery overflowing into my life with you." He paused and looked away, then back at her again. "That's why I left."

Sara gave a nod and a reassuring smile to tell him that she understood what he was saying. "Why couldn't you just tell me that Grissom? You didn't think I would understand that?" she asked gently.

He gave a short shake of his head, the replied contemplatively, "I think it's always been hard for me to communicate my feelings to you because I've never really understood them fully myself." He let go of her hand and reached out to her forehead, sweeping the hair away tenderly. "But my understanding is a lot better now. And that month away from you was awful."

"It was."

Grissom nodded. "Mhmm. And I don't want to even spend a night away from you. Ever again."

"Then don't," Sara whispered with the biggest, most genuine smile she had had in weeks.

Grissom leaned over and kissed her lovingly. He pulled back and looked at her. It was the look he often gave her that told her, without a doubt, that he loved her. His eyes were heavy with an indescribable shine to them. He could look right through her with them.

"I won't."

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Something had shifted in their relationship when Grissom returned from his sabbatical. They were closer. Close in a way they hadn't been before. Happier than they had been.

Sara was thankful for their time apart because just as he had told her, it had indeed brought him a better understanding of his feelings for her. He was more open and attentive. More affectionate and thoughtful. Like he finally comprehended, really and truly, what it meant to be in a relationship.

And just as he had said he wouldn't, he hadn't slept a wink without her beside him since then.

Now, in her current situation, that thought made her sad.

What if she did die out here? Would he sleep? Would he eat? Would he take care of himself?

She didn't really know how he would deal. She only knew that, if the tables had been turned and it was he who died in the alone in the desert, she would be consumed with grief.

She wouldn't… couldn't, sleep without Grissom.

She would never be happy again.

Perhaps sometimes pessimism was so much easier on the heart than optimism. But this certainly was not one of those times anymore.

To be continued…