Chapter Two:

Sara Sidle is no stranger to a lack of sleep. Rarely managing four to five hours on average between shifts, and even the promise of no work for the next 7 nights can entice her into a deep slumber. Round 1:30pm she drags herself out of bed to shower. Not sure what time to expect Grissom before his next shift, or whether he will turn up at all. If he does show, and keeps his promise of food, she should at least keep her side of the bargain up and exude some effort that she has rested. After her shower and changing into a pair of sweatpants, tank top and oversized cardigan she settles in front of the TV, a blanket draped over her legs. With nothing entertaining keeping her concentration, she dozes off only to be woken by a soft knocking on her door. She glances at the clock on her desk, its 2:30pm, another knock startles her and she jumps up to answer the door, yanking it open she smiles as he shifts some bags around in his arms.

'Hungry?' He lifts the bags into her eyeline as she moves to the side to let him past.

'Yeah… Actually.' She follows him into the kitchen, he turns abruptly almost smashing into her causing her to jump back a step.

'No, you go get comfortable. I'll bring it to you.' He gently pushes her around and away by her shoulders into the living room.

'Griss. Please let me help.' She knows she is fighting a losing battle and whining never did suit her. He stops what he is doing, puts down the containers of food and points to the sofa. She pouts and scowls at him as she turns around heading away from him. Folding the blanket to keep her hands busy, she then turns to clearing the coffee table so at least they have somewhere to put their food. After a few minutes and clanking around the kitchen, he walks over with four overflowing plates, he returns to the kitchen and retrieves two more plates and beers for them both.

'You know, as nice as it is, having you here looking after me. It does feel kinda….' Weird, nice, exciting, intimate, scary.

'Let's just eat.' He sits next to her, kicking off his shoes and places his glasses on the table. They sit in silence for a beat.

'Eat!' He pushes a plate into her cold hands. They eat in silence, the occasional hum every so often in acknowledgement of a decent hot meal. Finishing the last bites of their meals, Sara then stacks their empty plates on top of each other and falls back onto the sofa.

'I think that's more than I've ate all year combined.' He chuckles whilst standing, collecting their plates, walks over to the kitchen and carefully drops them into the sink. She follows with their nearly empty beer bottles, stifling a yawn behind her arm.

'Did you sleep?' He dashes some dish soap into the sink, taking the bottles from her and placing them next to the sink.

'A little.' He turns to her and arches his eyebrow, knowing she is lying. He continues to wash the dishes, leaning on the worktop she pulls a towel from a hook on the lower cabinet, twisting it around in her hands. He begins washing the dishes, rinses each plate carefully before handing them to her one at a time for her to dry and put away.

'So….. What did Ecklie have to say?' She flips the towel over her shoulder and takes a long pull from her beer turning so her back is against the worktop.

'That you are a loose cannon with a gun, and you're all mine.' She nearly chokes on her beer, coughing and spluttering. He puts down the plate in his hands, drying his hands quickly on his trousers. He moves closer, rubbing and patting her back whilst taking the bottle from her hands.

'You ok?'

'God, ever heard of sugar coating?!' She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

'Sorry.' He looks down at the floor. 'You're not fired but I think it would be best for you and Me if you apologise to Ecklie….. and Catherine.' He winces, waiting for her response, for her kick off.

'Ok.' She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down. 'I really fucked up didn't I?'

'No…' Now it's her turn to raise an eyebrow. 'Yes.' He admits and she laughs, really laughs and he can't help but join in and they just stand there still standing closer than necessary. After a while, he looks at his watch and clears his throat. 'I should errr get going.' He moves past her and heads toward the sofa where his jacket is draped over the back. 'Can I get you anything? Do you need or want anything?' He asks shrugging his jacket on. She hesitates for a beat.

'For you to stay?' She smiles, childlike.

'I er don't think that would be a good idea.'

'Yeah, no of course not, forget it, I don't even know why I said that..… I'm er…. Going to head to bed, you can errrr….. Let you self out.' She turns away quickly and heads towards her bedroom, throwing the door shut with more force than she intended to. Without waiting for the door to click shut she ties her hair up into a bun and climbs on top of the covers lying down. After a few minutes, she gets the feeling she is being watched. Slowly turning around, she locks eyes with him in the doorway. He is gripping the door frame like his life relies on it when he clears his throat.

'Sara…I'm sorry….. I errrrrr…..' He smiles a little and hopes she can read his mind.

'I know.' She sits up and moves a cushion over her chest.

'What can I do?'

'Talk to me?'

'Ok.' He moves into the room and sits down on the end of her bed near her legs and huffs out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

'Do you visit her often?' She shakes her head.

'Not as much as I used to….. or should.'

'I suppose upping sticks and moving to Vegas hasn't helped with that…. Sorry.'

'I choose to move Grissom. You didn't force me.'

'Still, you left a life in San Francisco, your friends, a… boyfriend?' She looks up at him but doesn't feel like correcting him.

'I never liked that place, where my Mom is. It feels strange.' She looks up to him again meeting his eyes.

'Do you miss him? Your Dad?'

'Sometimes.'

'You look a lot like him you know….' She smiles at him questioning. 'I errr saw the picture on your fridge.'

'Ah. I'm more my mother…. In looks.' She corrects quickly. He hums and smiles.

'Did he ever hurt you?'

'He broke my clavicle once, trying to hold me down.' His eyes go wide at her admission, was it sexual assault? He never thought, until now.

'Was it…. Did he….' She guesses the rest of his question and interrupts.

'No! Never.' Thank god, he nods in response.

'You must have been so brave Sara.' He moves his hand to touch her lower leg, bold.

'Yeah, well bravery only gets you so far right?' She yawns. 'Sorry!' He shakes his head.

'You don't need to apologise for being tired.' He turns serious. 'You should get some sleep.' There is a pregnant pause.

'What made you change your mind?' She fiddles with the tassels on the cushion she has clutched to her chest.

'I don't know. I just….' He pauses, he never knows what to say.

'You should try and get some sleep too.' She smiles. He holds her gaze, his hand still on her leg. She averts her gaze to his hand, his thumb swirling on the fabric of her sweatpants. In this moment, something has changed, the air is different, he seems different all of a sudden, like their conversation has cleared something for him.

'Can I stay?' He asks in barely a whisper. She nods and he stands to slip off his shoes, taking her by surprise. 'Move over.' She shuffles across to the other side of the bed; watching him as he sits down on the bed and stretches out his legs. Folding his hands across his chest, he closes his eyes and settles down. She sits there staring at him, in disbelief that he is laying there next to her in her bed.

'I thought you were tired?' He smirks, opening one eye to peer at her. She shakes her head and moves to stand, making him open both his eyes furrowing his eyebrows.

'What?' She shuffles down the bed and settles on her back at the furthest point away from the centre of the bed as possible.

'Hmm.' He hums and closes his eyes once more. They lay there in silence for a while and both fall asleep together.