Chapter Two

Sara stared at him, wondering why she wasn't the least bit surprised that they were stuck sharing a room. She was sweaty, smelly, grimy, and knew that this would be fate's revenge on her to make it the only time in her life that she would ever share a room with Gilbert Grissom. Without a word, she took the key from him and started down the boarded walk, feeling more and more as if she should be wearing stirrups and a ten-gallon hat. Well, one thing she knew for sure, she was getting the shower first! There was no way she wanted to sit in a dank motel room, feeling the way she feels, while he's getting himself all cleaned up and comes out to join her smelling good, looking great, and comparing her to the blonde bitch he can't seem to peel himself from back at the lab. If she had to be compared to Sophia Curtis, at least she wanted to be clean.

She didn't feel bad in the least when she told him he could bring in their duffel bags while she showered, so when she heard the bathroom door open and saw a bottle of her shampoo handed in to her, she wasn't surprised. She took her time as she allowed the heat of the water to beat down on the tired muscles of her back, then when the temperature began to cool, she finally turned it off and stepped out before wrapping the large towel around herself. She towel-dried her hair then looked around for her bag of clothes but found none. When she opened the door that enclosed the toilet and tub/shower, she saw her bag on the suitcase rack in the small room where the sink and mirror was located. Well, at least she had most of a wall to conceal her from the sleeping area, she thought, then went about pulling her clothes out that she was going to wear for the evening. She looked in the mirror at her reflection and saw how dried out she looked from working all day in the desert sun. That would be readily fixed as she pulled out some lip balm, then applied body lotion to her arms and legs. She took her time, allowing her massage to ease sore, tired muscles, then after a quick hand-comb of her hair, got dressed and moved around the wall to find Grissom sitting in a chair on the other side of the two double beds occupying the room.

"It's all yours," she told him, seeing that he already had his clean clothes out of his bag as he held them on his lap. "Grissom? You can take a shower now."

Grissom had gone through Sara's bag to find anything she might need while she was in the shower, then grabbed her bottle of shampoo and took it to her. When she told him to hand the bottle to her, he intended only to place it in her hand, then exit the bathing area so he could get his own toiletries together. He was tired and felt like a pig. All he wanted at this point was to clean himself up and lie down to rest for several hours. But, for some reason, when he reached toward the opaque shower curtain, the blurred sight of her body on the other side held him mesmerized. He couldn't seem to turn away as he watched her shampooing her hair, then go on to rub her hands over the rest of her body as she cleansed it. He always knew it would be absolutely beautiful, something that if he ever caught sight of, he couldn't forget. And, he always knew this was one reason he guarded himself from her. The danger of getting lost inside her was too great.

Finally, he seemed to snap out of it as she moved to turn off the water, so he slowly closed the door and moved back to the sleeping area. He busied himself by going through his bag and getting out the clothes and toiletries he would need in his shower, then he went to the chair and sat down, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in an attempt to try to remove the image of her behind a shower curtain from his mind. It was the sound of her going through her bag that opened his eyes, and then he noticed how he could see her perfectly as she stood in front of the mirror. Jesus! But she was even more beautiful than he had imagined, and over the years, he had imagined quite a lot. The natural way her wet hair fell was more of a turn on than any hair style that money could buy. When he watched her anoint her lips with the balm, he felt a twinge in his groin, and when she moved on with the body lotion, he tightened immediately.

"It's all yours," she said as she entered the room with him, but he was afraid to move. What if she saw what was hidden beneath his pile of clothes? "Grissom? You can take a shower now."

Sara kept her eyes on her duffel bag as Grissom got up and moved into the shower behind her. She saw the irritation he wore on his face as soon as she came from the bathroom. She wasn't prepared to put up with someone who didn't want to be with her, and openly was showing it. She suspected that he had been thinking about his new lady-love while she was in the shower and he had time to relax. She saw the way he was watching her as she came into the bedroom and she knew he wasn't in a good mood; probably wishing it was Sophia coming from the shower and extremely disgruntled because if was only her—Sara Sidle—lap dog to Gil Grissom. All he has to do is snap his fingers and whistle and there she is, practically running to do his bidding, and yet he wouldn't allow himself to go the extra step and take what he keeps asking for. Hadn't he told the doctor, last year, that he couldn't give everything up for her. And yet, when she watches him with Sophia, it seems as if that is exactly what he was doing. Evidently he could risk everything for the blond, but not Sara. She wished she could stop herself, she really did. All she ever got from him was pain, and she wasn't going to allow him to torture her with his grumpiness through the night. She might have to sleep in the same room as him, but she didn't have to simply sit there and watch him pining over Sophia. He was going to have to entertain himself while they were there. She, on the other hand, was going to lose herself in her novel. That is, if she could "find" her novel.

"Dammit!"

She stopped searching through her bag and realized it must have fallen out onto the Denali's floor, so she glanced down at bare feet and decided that she didn't need to put her boots on just to dart out to the truck for her lost book.

She pulled the door to number nine open and looked out at the night air. It was so quiet. The only sound she could hear was distant cars from a faraway highway and the buzz of the streetlights that lead to the old motel. She got her book and started back toward the room but stopped on the boards of the walkway, turning to look at the lightning in the distance. It was still so far away that there were no signs of thunder, only quick flashes and a slow wind that would eventually bring the storm to her. There was almost something peaceful about the way the air weighed on her as she leaned up against the four-by-four pillar that was holding the roof over her; so peaceful, in fact, that she got lost in her thoughts.

She wondered what Grissom was doing at the moment. The thought of his powerful body beneath the jets of the shower made her breath catch in her throat. She imagined him rubbing soap over his arms. God! Those arms! She loved to look at his arms; they were absolutely gorgeous and, oh, how she would just melt if she were ever held by them. She thought about the soap going to his chest; a chest that she would love to investigate, then lower to his stomach.

Breathe! One, two, three—okay, take a breath now! The image of her sliding her soap-covered hands over his stomach and around to his perfect buttocks and thighs suddenly made her feel as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

She didn't know which hit her first, the first spatters of rain that had snuck up on her while she was lost in her thoughts, or the hand that landed on her shoulder; also having snuck up on her. She jumped and let out a sound that was a combination of a yelp and a groan as she turned and jumped at the same time. Her footing got tangled and she went down on the ground with a thud and her book went flying about ten feet away from where she landed.

"Holy shit! Don't do that!" Sara half-yelled at the now freshly showered Grissom.

The rain suddenly changed from heavy splatters to a downpour that had her scampering to get to her feet, but as she turned in circles in search of her book, the ground was quickly turning to mud.

"Sara!" Grissom yelled through the pelting rain as he watched her from beneath the porch roof. "What the hell are you doing? Get in here!"

"My book! I dropped my book!"

"Over there! By the tire of the truck!"

Sara pounced on it and turned in a dead run back toward the boarded walkway, but when she jumped onto the wood, her foot slipped and she skidded across the floor and over the other side. She felt the immediate pain of something sharp going into the back of her thigh on one leg and the bruising crash that her shin of her other leg made against the edge of the porch. She landed back out in the mud with a resounding "oomph" and then another yelp as she was lifted to her feet and ushered back through the door into room number nine. Grissom slammed the door closed and turned to look at her. Both legs hurt in various areas, she was soaked to the bone and her book was nearly ruined, but when she looked at how Grissom stood in front of her, dripping water from his drenched clothes and hair, she couldn't stop the giggles that bubbled up inside her.