Chapter Eight:
Sara stands in her apartment doorway, looking at the matching papers left on her kitchen bar from their crossword competition the previous evening. Two discarded cups of tea in the sink and a pair of Grissom's glasses on the coffee table next to the latest copy of a forensic journal. Smiling to herself she walks to the fridge to grab a bottle of water and heads to the bathroom, ready to soak away the night. Her decontamination shower with Greg has left her sensitive skin dry and angry and her hair unruly. Turning on the faucet and dropping some bath salts into the water, she turns to look at her reflection. Years of straightening in an attempt to battle the humidity of the desert only encourages her hair to curly more wildly when given the opportunity to be free. Pulling the curls up into a loose bun and lowering herself into the water, she lets her eyes close. After ten minutes or so she grabs a cloth off the side, first removing any remaining makeup, then starting down her arms, to glide down the rest of her body. As the water starts to cool, she leaves the tub, pulling the plug with her toes. Shrugging on her fluffy robe from the back of the door, she ties it tight around her waist and heads back into the kitchen. Her cell phone is flashing, and she notices she has a missed call and two messages from Grissom. Hoping she isn't being called in for overtime she flips open the cell and checks her messages. They aren't planning on spending time together today, something about him waiting on a parcel and that he needs to do laundry. Opening the message thread, she sees two unread messages.
First Message 09:13
Can't sleep, are you up?
Second Message 09:55
If you, Sara Sidle are asleep, then I am in real trouble .
She smiles at his words and readies to call him back when there is a knock on her door. Sliding over to look through the peephole she sees Grissom stood with his hands in his pockets. Opening the door, she smiles as he lowers his head.
'I was in the tub.'
'I know, as soon as I sent that second message, I remembered you mentioned it. Sorry.'
'Don't be, I just got out. How come you can't sleep?' He looks up and smiles at her, she knows exactly why he can't sleep, the same reason she can't when he stays at his condo. Because she has become so used to sharing a bed with this man, sleeping alone doesn't seem right.
'I think you have an idea why. Also I can't stop thinking about you and Greg sharing that shower.' He slinks past her towards the bedroom.
'Excuse me?' She stands rooted to the spot.
'Not like that!' The air is thick around them, jealously was never a good colour on him.
'Shall we?' He reaches out for her to take his hand. He is wearing sweatpants and a t shirt as he attempts to pulls her towards her own bedroom. She stills to lock the door then lets him pull her across the room. He heads in and starts to pull down the comforter, lifting her pillows, he picks up her pjs and walks over to her where she stopped in the doorway, watching him like a hawk. He stops inches away from her and holds her pjs up in-between them.
'What are we doing?' She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, eyeing him questioningly. He steps even closer, there is only a hair width between them now, she slowly takes her things from his warm hands and lowers the clothes to her side.
'I don't know….. but if you want to stop?' He looks in her eyes and she smiles. Turning quickly, he climbs into bed and turns the lamp off, turning the room pitch black. She turns around and slides her shorts and tank top on under her robe and hangs it on the back of the door. Tonight, they don't read or talk. They just lay next to one another, holding hands, playing with one another's fingers, drifting off to sleep.