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A/N: Okay, I couldn't seem to wait to post chapter four for you. I hope you're not disappointed. Now, I have to go work on chapter 5. Enjoy!
Chapter Four
Sara watched Grissom from where she lay on the bed. Her shin was throbbing on her one leg and her thigh was searing, but she hardly noticed as she looked at the bare-chested, barefoot Grissom as he flipped through the channels on the television. She wouldn't consider herself a widely experienced woman where sex was concerned, but she knew enough to have recognized the look of want in his eyes as he was kneeling next to her. She knew the feel of a caress as it traveled down her back then abruptly stopped at her bottom. And she knew what a man's erection looked like, even if they were hiding it in a pair of blue jeans. The fact that he retreated so quickly that he practically tripped over himself getting away from her, screamed the fact that he still wanted to keep her out of his life; perhaps was even feeling a little guilty over getting aroused with her while he was seeing Sophia.
The thought of Sophia turned her around until she maneuvered herself into a sitting position on the side of the bed. She sat with her legs partially open, but was adequately covered with the bottom of his shirt, and she noticed how he glanced in her direction, then immediately turned back to the television screen. "Well," she thought stubbornly, "I'm glad he has something to occupy himself!" She got up and slowly walked to where the book sat on the dresser and picked it up. "I, on the other hand, am stuck with a soggy book that, by the looks of it, might actually fall apart if I tried to turn the pages." She put the book back down and looked over her shoulder at him. He seemed to have gotten rather involved in a movie with Jeff Bridges. Another look at the television showed her that it was an old King Kong movie; definitely something she wasn't in the mood for.
Well, if she had to sit here, doing nothing for the rest of the evening—she wasn't going to make it easy on him. She turned and started to slowly stroll between the dressers and the ends of the beds, pausing in front of the television long enough to make sure that he took in the effect of her long, bare legs. Even if they were bandaged, she knew if there was one good feature that she had, it was her legs. She pretended not to notice that she was blocking his view as she ran her fingers over a vase that contained plastic daisies.
"Um—Sara. . ." Grissom spoke up, then gave a nervous cough before continuing. "I'm trying to watch that."
"Really?" She turned and faced him, still standing in front of the television.
"Yes. Really. Now, could you move? I mean, wouldn't you rather be sitting down somewhere and resting your legs?"
"My legs are fine. A little sore, but I guess that's to be expected." She moved to sit in a chair at the small table near the windows. "I'd think you'd be working on a crossword puzzle or something like that."
"No," he said as if he were explaining his motives to a child. "I want to watch this. I haven't seen it in years."
"I can understand why," she said in a bored tone as she started strumming her fingers, then looked back at him. "I mean, it isn't as if you don't know that they're going to capture the thing, take it back to civilization, lose control of it, let it climb a tall building, then get killed in the end."
"Sara," he sighed. "I'm going to watch this. You can pick something when it's over. Then I'll go to sleep and I don't care what you watch."
"Really?" She asked as she continued to strum her fingers, a little louder this time.
"Really," he told her as if to finalize the argument. "I'll share the TV after this."
He no sooner had his words out than there was a bright flash of light accompanied with a huge bang of thunder as well as what sounded like a loud pop and sizzling. They both watched in amazement as the television screen turned black. The look of accusation that Grissom wore when he looked at Sara was priceless and she had to fight to keep from laughing at him. She simply looked back at him blankly.
"See what happens when you get greedy?" she asked.
"I was "not" being greedy. I was simply taking my turn first."
"Well, at least we still have electricity," she told him. "We could play cards or something."
"And you have a deck of cards on you?" He asked doubtfully.
"I saw a pack in the drawer over there. Come on—there's nothing else to do."
He reluctantly got off the bed and went to the drawer, then moved back to the table with the deck. "What can we play?"
"Well, we could try strip poker, but that would be a rather fast game," she said as she smiled at him, laughing when she saw how he looked a bit alarmed at her suggestion. "I don't care what we play. We can play Old Maid if you want to—it doesn't matter to me."
"Don't you need a special deck to play Old Maid?" He asked as he pulled the chair out and sat opposite her.
"I wasn't serious. I'll play whatever you want."
This time when the lightning flashed and the thunder slapped around them, they heard an explosion outside and the lights in the room went out. The darkness that enveloped them was only broken by what appeared to be a transmitter that was struck by the bolt of electricity and caught on fire. Even the neon lights of the motel sign were extinguished.
"You wished that," Grissom said blandly and Sara couldn't stop the laughter that started to bubble up inside of her. "What's so funny?"
"Us. This whole situation. All we need now is for the roof to. . ."
"Don't say it!" Grissom interrupted her. "The moment you say it—it'll happen!"
"Now, you're being superstitious," Sara told him as she got to her feet and slowly made her way past him to the dresser again.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for. . .these." Sara reached into a lower drawer and pulled out the candles she had seen earlier. She went to her duffel and got a lighter from her emergency kit and caught the wicks on fire, setting one aromatic candle on the sink in the bathroom area, and another one on the table in front of Grissom. "It might not be enough light to see cards or anything—but at least we can see to get around and not trip over anything."
Grissom dropped the cards on the table and got to his feet. He pulled the curtain and looked toward a town that was in complete darkness, then moved back toward the bed he had been sitting on. Instead of sitting this time, he fixed the pillows and lay on his side.
"I'll see you in the morning—or whenever the electricity comes back on." He closed his eyes and proceeded to attempt to go to sleep.
Sara looked at his long body as it was sprawled on the mattress and giving a long sigh, she reluctantly went to her bed and climbed beneath the sheet. Suddenly the pain she had been ignoring was becoming more palpable. She flipped the sheet back so it wasn't lying on the shin area to relieve some of the pain. It felt like she lay in her bed for hours as she would listen to Grissom's steady breathing and glance over at him often. When he turned onto his back, she couldn't seem to stop looking at the expanse of his chest and admire it, wishing that somehow he would be in her bed and she could be touching the skin the way she longed too. Finally, her eyes became heavy and sleep overcame her.
"Son-of-a-bitch."
Sara heard Grissom's angry declaration and woke up to also hear what sounded to be a steady drip of water. When she turned around to look at where he had been lying, she saw him standing next to her bed, looking down at her.
"Grissom?"
"I told you not to say it earlier, didn't I?" He asked as he sat on the edge of her bed.
"Say what?"
"You were going to say that all we needed was for the roof to leak--well. . ."
"You're kidding," Sara said skeptically as she lifted herself onto her elbows and looked over to his bed and sure enough, there were small puddles gathering on various areas of the mattress. She looked back at him, not trying to hide her smile anymore. "Jeez, Grissom. I seem to remember someone who didn't want to share the television earlier tonight. I seem to be feeling rather selfish myself regarding my bed."
He tilted his head as he looked at her with raised brow and she chuckled again, then moved over, allowing the room he needed to lie where she had been. She noticed how he seemed to strive to stay at least a foot away from her.
"I'm sorry about this, Sara. I'm sure you'd rather be home in your own bed, with your air conditioner running, your television entertaining you and without your legs battered and bruised."
"The air conditioner might be a little nice." She turned onto her side, facing him as she watched him stare at the candlelight dancing on the ceiling. "It's getting kinda hot in here."
He slowly turned his head to face her. "I—could—open the door a little. Maybe put a chair in front of it so it's only open two or three inches."
"Hmm," Sara pretended to contemplate this decision. "Do I want to sweat in bed? Or do I want some psychotic straight from a Hitchcock movie to come in and dice me up into prairie dog food?"
He smiled at her comparison to what he already felt about their atmosphere. "Do you have any specific Hitchcock psycho in mind?"
"I think you hit that nail right on the head. Who else could it be? We're in a run-down old motel out in the middle of nowhere. I'm expecting Anthony Perkins to come running in at any moment, calling, "Mother! Oh, God, mother! Blood! Blood!"
"Well," Grissom said thoughtfully. "A boy's best friend "is" his mother."
Sara stared at him in disbelief. "You know—you're about to cross the line from strangely interesting into just plain creepy."
Grissom turned more fully toward her, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. "NORMAN! Put me down! Put me down! I can walk on my own. . ."
"Okay, I give up. You win. Now, don't do anymore."
Grissom thought a moment, then added, ". . .I won't have you bring some young girl in for supper! By candlelight, I suppose, in the cheap, erotic fashion of young men with cheap, erotic minds!"
"Grissom! Knock it off!" Sara scolded, shoving at his shoulder for emphasis.
"Mother, please. . ."
"Alright! That's enough! I'm sleeping in the damned truck!" Sara said and started to climb over top of Grissom to get to the outer side of the bed, making him laugh at her reaction.
When she was about to step over top of him, he grabbed her legs and kept her on the bed with him. "Okay, I'm through with my Norman fixation. Stay here."
Sara looked down at his shining eyes as he looked up from the pillow he was lying on. God, but he had the sexiest damned eyes she had ever seen, and when he looked at her like that, her legs began to melt out from under her. In response, she simply sat down where she stood, with one foot on either side of his hips as she sat on his groin. She wasn't a hundred percent sure that she was unaware of her destination, but still, when she felt the slight bulge of his denim against her bare apex, her eyes widened in surprise. She didn't know whether to address the matter or not. If she pushed it, he would likely retreat and she would lose this familiarity that they hadn't shared in a long time. If she didn't, the night would pass by and she would lose any chance of retrieving her heart from the man who stole it so many years before, only to watch him return to Vegas and share his feelings with someone else.