Chapter Seven:

Two weeks since their breakfast date at Frank's, Grissom, Sara and Greg are in the locker room after finishing their shift, when Catherine, Warrick and Nick bounce in, refreshed, rested and ready for whatever Vegas has to throw at them.

'Hey guys, how's it going?' Greg asks as Warrick moves past him to get to his locker.

'Oh you know the usual, death, robbery and some good old betting wars. What about you guys?'

'Ecklie.' Greg says with a shrug, referring to their run in with the assistant lab director over similarities to a cold case from day shift. Warrick and Nick sigh and nod in acknowledgement, both noticing Grissom silent at his locker. Never one to join in on office politics or gossip, not even in the privacy of just the team.

'Well, you guys get some decent rest, yeah.' Catherine walks past Grissom patting him on his shoulder, knocking Grissom out of his zoned-out state, lifting his head he smiles at the room. Closing her locker and pulling on her coat Sara says her goodbyes and shoots a smile at Grissom. He seems off today, she isn't sure whether it's a migraine or from just dealing with Ecklie, his least favourite co worker, let alone human. She isn't sure whether he has noticed her smile and the symbolism it carries, he seems overly tired this morning, but she hopes he gets the message and meets her at her apartment sooner rather than later.

Once home she changes into some shorts and a t shirt, ingredients on the side ready to make them an omelette for breakfast, his with ham, hers without. Its 8:30am when he enters her apartment, whenever she is home and anticipating his arrival, they agreed it's easier to leave the door unlocked, rather than making her answer it every time if its only him. He leans on the console table to slip off his shoes and she notices his eyes are squeezed shut.

'Hey, you ok?' She whispers walking over to him.

'Migraine.' He walks past her brushing her arm with his hand. Sending jolts through her body. He heads straight towards the sofa, pulling off his jacket, he rolls it up and places it below his head as he lays down. She follows him, full of concern and stops to stand in front of him.

'Have you taken your meds?'

'No.' He answers abruptly, if he wasn't in so much pain, she might reprimand him for it, but she knows better right now. She brushes her hand across his forehead as she walks away to the bedroom without saying a word. She gets him some of his pills, a glass of water and meets him again on the sofa. He opens his eyes when he senses the movement, always aware of her presence. Slowly, without her noticing, he hopes, he gives her legs a look up and down.

'Here, can you sit up?' He moves, slowly and carefully planting his feet on the ground either side of her legs and sits up as straight as he can manage. She passes him the glass and his pills, watching as he knocks them back without flinching. He reaches past her to put the glass down, and as he pulls his hand back, he grazes his fingers down the outside of her knee in thanks and drops his head into his hands. 'Do you want me to take you home?' He shakes his head.

'Shower or bed?' She puts her hand on his shoulder and he whispers in response.

'Bed.' She must strain to hear him.

'Go on, I need to put some stuff away, I'll be in in a few minutes.' He nods again and stands slowly; to come face to face with her. Sara moves first, making her way into the kitchen to put away their now abandoned breakfast. Giving her apartment a once over and after checking the lock on her door, she quietly makes her way to her bedroom. When she enters, she finds him changed and under the covers with his face buried in her pillow. Walking over she places a glass of water on the bedside table and runs her fingers across his forehead, checking for a temperature.

'Hmm your fingers are cold.'

'Yeah? You think it might help?' He hums into the pillow. She walks around to her side of the bed. 'Lift'. She slides her pillow from beneath his heavy head and props it up on the headboard, sliding into bed slowly to not disturb him too much she sits down, shuffling backwards against her pillow, legs crossed. As soon as she settles the comforter back down, he creeps forward, his head now nestled to the side of her bare thigh. Taking a deep breath, she begins to run her fingers down the side of his face, from temple to under his chin and back. Stopping to rub in slow circles slightly over his eyebrow and temple, attempting to ease the pressure building behind his skull. She can feel his warmth breath on her skin, it's so gentle and reassuring. Taking another deep breath she runs her fingers through his hair, pushing down on his scalp and he hums, murmuring something she can't quite understand. His right hand moves from his side to slide up the bedsheet, coming to rest on her knee. She stills her hand, thinking she has hurt him and his gesture is only to tell her to stop what she is doing. But as soon as her fingers still his eyes fly open and he lifts his head a little to look at her.

'What?' His hair is messed up, his eyes small, face crumpled, it's the most adorable he has ever looked, and she can't help but fall in love with him just that little bit more.

'I…. thought I hurt you?' He shakes his head and turns over, grabbing her hand with his and placing it over the left side of his face, an invitation, no a request for her to continue her ministrations. She straightens out her legs, slipping them under the comforter to keep warm, he notices and moves his arm backwards to drape over her legs, keeping her close. His fingers gently rubbing her skin. This is the most they have touched, the closest they have got in 7 years, the most open and unguarded she has ever seen this man. This man, stubborn and unsure what to do about this, laying in her bed, demanding head rubs, caressing her bare legs. She huffs out a breath, how does he not know what to do about this? This must be something to him? They sleep together 5 out of 7 nights a week, share breakfast, share bankets on the sofa, they must be in some sort of relationship right now? Would she do this with Nick? No. Warrick, hell no, Greg? She shudders.

'You cold?' He whispers, he must have felt her movements.

'No, sorry. Go back to sleep.' She rubs his cheek. He turns again back to face her. She lifts her hand, ready to drop it back down to continue her work, when he pulls it down to his lips, placing a kiss in her palm he begins to pull her hand down with more force.

'Sleep with me?' He continues to pull her hand until she gets the hint and starts to manoeuvre down the bed. Moving her pillow back down, she moves onto her side to turn the bedside lamp off and he fills the space her body just created, rolling backwards she thuds into his chest. He leans backwards giving her room to get comfy and just as quickly fills her personal space again. Nestling his head on her shoulder, his arm draped over her stomach.

'Night.' She whispers out to the room, content she is his comfort right now, whatever the fuck this means. He hums something into her shoulder and his head becomes heavy as his medication kicks in and he falls into a deep sleep. Sara Sidle, laying in bed, wrapped in a man's arms who right now is just a friend, her boss. She can't define it. She can't overthink it, he probably doesn't even know he is doing it, he is so whacked out on his pain meds, yeah that's it. She can't be feeling turned on right now, when he feels like death. The weight of his arm across her stomach should be uncomfortable but right now it's all she needs. His legs shift closer to hers and his feet curl up to rest below hers. She closes her eyes, trying to steady her breath, one last look down at him and she smiles. Whispering to herself.

'I don't know what to do about this….'