It was a rotten few days. Sara got through them largely by pretending they didn't exist, and spent the bulk of her time curled up in bed upstairs, wallowing in depression. Grissom joined her for a while, yet by the third day even he became restless, and rolled over on their crinkled sheets to look at her with resignation.
"We should get up," he ventured.
"Uh-huh," Sara replied.
She stared at the roof. She had never felt more at one with the mattress. Over the last three days they had become best friends, her body practically moulded into the structure. She knew it was probably doing her spine no good, yet there wasn't anything she wanted to do less than go downstairs. She had barely seen the others for three days, and a selfish part of her liked it that way.
"We can't lie around forever," he continued.
He placed a hand on her stomach, fingers massaging through the fabric, but Sara still did not move.
"We're doing all right so far," she replied.
"If we stay here much longer they'll start to worry. And we can't abandon them."
It was the one argument that could possibly work on her, and as she lay there she let out a slow breath, hating that he was right. Despite her own misery she knew she couldn't abandon them; they were still in dire trouble, facing starvation and even now they were probably camped downstairs, praying that Sara's mourning period wouldn't last much longer. They were all dependent on each other to survive, and if any one of them surrendered it was game over.
Yet even so she had trouble moving. She was still bleeding – slowly – and she still felt weak.
"We could at least have a shower," he said.
"Are you saying I smell?" she replied.
He gave her a lopsided smile, and spent a moment fingering the gap between her top and pyjama pants, tracing the skin there over her abdomen. She was still sensitive, but he was gentle.
"I think you smell lovely," he said.
Sara laughed. It was so ridiculous that she fell in love with him again – she had been encamped there for three days, barely changing clothes, and the room had such a stale scent of sweat and body odour that she had been beginning to consider opening a window – even if it was the dead of winter, and little more than freezing outside.
"That's why I love you," she joked.
"That's why?"
"Among other reasons."
She turned on the pillow and grinned at him, and was rewarded with a soft kiss to her lips. There was no hint of seduction there – Catherine had warned them she wouldn't be up for sex for another few weeks –and Grissom had been every part the gentleman. He had held her and cuddled her, wiped away her budding tears, and even now, she realised, was trying to urge her up not for hygiene reasons, but because he was evidently worried about the long term psychological damage if she stayed there much longer.
"Shower?" he suggested.
She sighed. "A hot one."
"It's always hot if you're in it."
It was those uninvited endearments that she adored about him, always delivered when they were alone, and with honest tenderness. She was lucky to have him, she knew that, and she knew it again when they reached the bathroom, and he even helped her undress. They went on to have their shower – Grissom still very careful to keep her clean – and then returned downstairs for the first time since the others' ill-fated expedition, and joined the rest of the crew in the kitchen.
"Hey," Catherine greeted.
She looked surprised to see them, and dropped a kiss on Sara's cheek, embracing her.
"We thought it was time we surfaced," Grissom said.
"And about time too," Nick said. "It's been lonely without you guys."
"What are we, part of the furniture?" Sofia asked, leaning back against the cabinets, a smile on her lips.
"No, I didn't mean that, I just meant –"
"Forget it, Nicky," Catherine interjected. She crossed to Grissom and hugged him too, offering him her trademark peck on the lips. "How are you feeling? You guys want some breakfast?"
"Sara does," Grissom said. "She's still feeling weak."
"Then we'd better get some food into you," Warrick replied.
He helped Sara into a chair, hugging her on the way, and Sara found herself feeling lighter than she had in three days. It turned out that Nick and Warrick had completed another trip out while she'd been in bed, scrounging the last of the food supplies from the area, and while it was not a feast it was at least enough to tide them over for another few days, before any hard decision-making had to be made. They cooked her a passable breakfast, and afterward Sara went back upstairs with Catherine, and submitted herself to a medical examination. It was sometime after that, near midday, that Warrick floated the idea of a picnic – a "family day" – and when the others embraced the idea of a lazy afternoon in the sun Sara found herself propelled along with them, and was soon trekking across the fields with the group, Grissom wrapping a coat around her shoulders.
"You warm enough?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Sara replied.
It was a sunny day – a rare one where they could actually see blue sky – and it felt replenishing to be out in it, and to feel the warm rays on her face. Grissom walked with his hand on her back, as protective as ever, yet she had not even reached the fence line before Warrick sidled up to her, and joined him in his state of macho concern.
"You okay to walk?" he asked, evidently referring to her faintness. "You want a lift?"
"A lift where?" Sara asked. "On your back?"
"Is that a dirty word?" Catherine joked.
"You tell us," Nick teased. "You two would know."
"Not half as well as you two," Catherine replied, referring to him and Sofia.
"You know, anatomically, I think you've got that the wrong way around," Sofia said, looking as if she struggled to picture it.
"Right," Grissom agreed. "It's a bit hard to have sex from that angle. Traditionally the male has to be over the female's back."
"Or the female on her back," Sara added.
"Thanks for the lesson," Catherine said drily.
"You want a lift or not?" Warrick interrupted, drawing her to a stop.
Sara hesitated, weighing up the offer.
"I can assure you he's strong enough," Catherine said.
"Again, you'd know," Nick teased.
"Damn straight, Nicky."
There was not a trace of shame on her face.
"Come on," Warrick urged.
He passed his carry bag into Nick's chest – where it hit him with a soft thud – and Sara obligingly climbed onto Warrick's back. He picked her up with ease – Catherine was right, he was strong – and he carried her for the next half mile without even breaking a sweat. They made their way over the sunlit fields and through the long grass until they at last reached one of their favourite meadows, and Warrick set her down there before they began unrolling the picnic blanket, spreading out the red tartan in a neat square.
"Sit down," Grissom urged, touching her back.
"I'm perfectly fine," Sara said. "You can stop fussing."
"Fat chance of that," Catherine said, sitting down beside her.
"The man loves you, Sara, go with it," Warrick added, settling beside his partner.
Sara looked to Grissom. He appeared mildly embarrassed, but with a smile and a hand to his thigh she soothed him, and then with a tug she urged him to spread his legs, and shifted to settle in-between them, leaning back against his chest. There she closed her eyes, revelling in the warmth of the sun on her face, and Grissom's chest behind her, and she remained there for a moment until she heard the sound of zips being opened, and she popped open her eyes to see Sofia stripping in front of them, pulling her top over her head, and her jeans from her ankles, and standing there in nothing but a matching set of green lingerie.
"Man," Nick said, taking an abrupt breath, "I knew this picnic was a good idea."
"I want to soak up some sun before we miss it," Sofia said.
She peered up at the sky, scanning for non-existent clouds, and seeming satisfied she settled down on the picnic blanket, lying down on her back beside Nick. Sara reflected that she looked pretty much like a model, sprawled out with a hand behind her head, and evidently Nick appreciated the sight, judging him from his next words.
"Well don't let me stop you," he said, looking pleased. "Take it all off if you want – I'm good."
"Well if the guys weren't here," Sofia said, "you might have got lucky."
She passed him a flirtatious smile, but Grissom soon interrupted.
"Let's keep it G-rated," he ruled. "Don't get carried away."
"Where's the fun in that?" Catherine asked.
A moment later she was on her feet, also stripping to her underwear, and she rounded it off by handing Warrick a bottle of suncream, and getting him to rub it over her back. Warrick looked like he was in heaven, and all in all the flirtatious mood continued for the next half hour, as the group steadily relaxed, and culminating in a point where they were all sprawled out on the blanket, and Sara began to reflect that this day off had been exactly what they had needed.
It was not only her that had been mentally struck down. The entire team had been, each in their own ways, but their willingness to embrace the picnic now was a testament to how desperately they needed it. Sofia in particular looked better than she had in a week, lying there quietly soaking up the sun, and beside her Nick also looked a long way recovered, relaxed enough that he had soon been coaxed into stripping to his boxers.
Sara and Grissom were the only ones who remained fully clothed, and sensitive to Sara's state, they did not bother to suggest that she changed that. In fact, as the picnic went on, she remained on the receiving end of all their concern, evident soon after when Catherine forced herself up, and with a contented sigh, shifted over to her.
"How you doing?" she asked.
Even as she posed the question her fingers were already dug into Sara's wrist, checking her pulse; apparently the answer was a mere formality.
"I'm good," she replied.
She felt completely relaxed in Grissom's arms, his tender hands at her hips, and if anything, she felt only a little chilly. The need for comment, however, was soon removed from her hands.
"I think she's cold," Grissom supplied.
"Let's put the coat back on," Catherine suggested.
They continued to fuss over her, and soon had her tucked in like a child; a gesture that Sara deep down found quite touching.
"It's the blood loss," Catherine went on. "Her body's still recovering."
"I'm good," Sara insisted, picking up Catherine's hand to remove it from her. "You need to relax."
"So long as that's the truth," Catherine replied, withdrawing a little. "But let us know if you need anything, okay? We can always run back to the house – it's not far."
"Actually, that might be a good idea," Grissom said. "We might need some more toiletries for later on if we're going to stay here for the afternoon."
Sara could have slugged him for that admission, but after fifteen years as a CSI and helping her through the miscarriage, Catherine was unfazed, and moved only to stand, pecking Sara's lips on the way up.
"I won't be long."
"I'll come with you," Sofia offered.
"Take your guns," Grissom ruled.
A second later they were both gone, heading back across the fields in their underwear, and after they disappeared from earshot Nick spoke up.
"Man, I don't think she realises what a turn-on that is."
"What a turn-on what is?" Warrick asked.
"Your girlfriend, dude. Kissing on the lips all the time."
"It's not sexual, Nick," Grissom said, sounding mildly annoyed. "She does it for comfort. It's a survival strategy, a product of her trauma."
"She's scared," Warrick added, with calm authority as though he had long understood this. "She has a lot of pain in her. The affection keeps her sane."
"Is it a problem?" Sara asked.
"No," Nick said, sounding at ease. "I don't have a problem with it, so long as she doesn't slip my girlfriend the tongue."
"I seriously doubt that's going to happen."
She couldn't help smiling at the thought, and knew Catherine would probably have slugged him had she heard.
"Yeah, you'd be lucky," Warrick said.
They continued to joke for another few minutes, until something happened which put Sara on alert. She was just adjusting her position against Grissom when she saw Catherine and Sofia heading back toward them over the fields – but they were not strolling. They were coming at a fast jog, and both had their guns out, loaded and cocked as they looked repeatedly over their shoulders.
Something was up.
"Guys," she said.
She sat up, quickly scrambling for her gun.
"Stand," Grissom urged, trapped behind her.
"What's up?" Nick asked.
He was still lying back idly on the blanket, an arm behind his head, but Sara hurried to rouse him, pulling on his arm.
"Get up," she said. "There's trouble."
There were clicks and scuffles as the three men all grabbed their weapons, and by the time the two women had reached the blanket Sara was already at the edge to meet them.
"What's wrong?" she asked quickly, Warrick at her side.
"There's someone there," Catherine said. "They're in the house."
"What?" Nick asked.
"We're not alone," Sofia answered. "We're in trouble."
I did several drafts of this chapter (as usual these days), but I think I like this one the best. I love it when the GSR just flows ... love Grissom being adorable. :)
More action to come; decided in the end to split the chapter, more on the way... depending on whether people liked this. ;)