A/N: Takes place directly after "Grave Danger."
Summary: My thoughts on how Grissom and Sara might have started their relationship...
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to CBS and no one else... I'm just renting the characters :-)
Note: This is my first fanfic EVAR! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated...
Grissom drags Sara behind him as he runs through the back door, not having the faintest idea where it leads. He's good in a crisis—his analytical mind takes over, slows things down, allows him to act without panicking. The explosions are timed so that they begin at the front door and continue towards where we are… we're safest going this way. The room is already flooding even as the canisters continue to explode. The room is bigger than the canisters, so it won't flood completely, but he's more worried about the flying debris and sharp metal that crashes around them.
And of course, he's concerned about her… he knows she keeps her head in a dangerous situation. He saw evidence of that not too long ago when Adam Trent held her with a shard of pottery to her throat. She'd managed to get out of that situation, no thanks to him. But this is loud and immediate…and she's lagging, making him pull her hard.
On the other side of the door is a small platform that makes up the top of a stairwell leading down, to what he can't be sure of. He quickly slams the door behind her, using his body to press hers against the door, keeping it closed as the nearest tanks explode. Shockwaves rock the small stairwell. The brittle ceiling drops plaster around them. Water seeps through the crack in the door, pouring down past their feet and into the darkness below.
In seconds, it's all over—and they're safe. Gil's arms are painful now, strained against the door. Although mentally calm, his breathing is labored and his gasps for air mirror Sara's as she looks around the nearly pitch-black room in terror. The fact that she can't see anything causes her to strain against him—she desperately needs to feel the dimensions of the room, find out something about where they're now trapped. Grissom presses harder against her, preventing her from escaping. She can feel the pressure of the water against the door lessening as the water keeps spilling around their feet.
Once their breathing relaxes a little, he speaks. "Are you okay?" he whispers in controlled tones. She can't see him at all, but she knows that he's unafraid and it comforts her.
"I'm okay," she says hoarsely. He doesn't move. "Grissom, I'm okay… really." This time she sounds more confident and he moves away from her.
Grissom reaches into his vest and pulls out a flashlight. Its small beam allows him a small amount of information about the room. Sara preemptively turns on her walkie-talkie and assures Brass and anyone listening that they're unhurt.
"Where are you?" Brass queries, his voice tinged with worry.
"We're in a stairwell at the back of the place." She follows the path of Grissom's flashlight down to the bottom of the stairwell. "It leads down somewhere, but right now I'm not too keen to go exploring."
"Sit tight," Brass replies "We'll get you out of there as soon as we can."
"Don't worry—we're not going anywhere."
Sara turns off the walkie-talkie and leans over the railing next to Grissom, trying to see what he's looking at. "It's a cistern," Grissom informs her. "Apparently this building taps into a hot springs below."
"Great," Sara says sarcastically. "So we're surrounded by water."
"Water, water everywhere…nor any drop to drink," Grissom offers as he examines the crumbling roof.
Sara mumbles something about Coleridge and opium and sits on the small platform dejectedly. "So much for any chance to get evidence from in there. What the explosions didn't destroy, the water certainly did."
"Maybe we'll get lucky and some of it washed into our shoes," Grissom jokes, sloshing his feet around for emphasis. Sara smiles despite herself. "Makes you wonder, though," Grissom continues. "Why rig up all of those bombs to go off? Was the killer trying to destroy evidence… or get some other people killed?"
"Especially since we're nearly positive that the killer is the one that led us to the body. I think we can rule out the idea that the bombs went off randomly. This guy was trying to make a point."
"Yeah," Gil says grimly. "Stay back."
"Do you think he was after us? The CSIs?" Sara wonders. She has flashes again of Nick, the random target of a madman who twisted his grief into an obsession of punishing crime scene investigators—any crime scene investigators. Nick was the victim of bad luck more than anything else…were she and Grissom going to be its next casualties?
"It's impossible to tell who or what those bombs were for. Could have been anyone in here… investigators, cops, attorneys… Maybe our killer just has a flair for the dramatic."
"This is pretty dramatic. Trapped in this building that's falling apart, on a rickety, rusted out stairwell that leads to a watery hole in the ground. I think I read this dime store novel already." She chuckles a little to ward of the encroaching fear that pierces her consciousness every time she thinks of their predicament.
Grissom sits down next to her and shuts off his flashlight to conserve batteries. There's no telling how long they'll be in there before the building is deemed stable enough to extract them. "Well, I hope in your novel, the heroes make it out alive at the end." She can hear the smile in his voice and appreciates his attempts at levity.
"Guess we just wait to get rescued," she says to the darkness around her.
Thanks so much for all of your great responses! I'll keep updating as fast as I can. A few people asked me if I ever wrote anything before... I am an amateur writer, but this is my first experience with fan fiction. Thanks for giving me such a warm welcome:-D