Hurt/Comfort/Romance. Rated M. GSR–because, really, is there anything else? GSR is the heart of CSI.

AWKWARD

CHAPTER TWO

Sara was still toweling her hair when the doorbell rang. Automatically, she looked at the clock. He's 25 minutes early. Hmm.

She swung open the door. "Hey Gris. Come on in."

Sara looked him over. Grissom was wearing jeans. Hot damn. The man does fill out a pair of jeans!

If he noticed her checking him out (he did) Grissom didn't let it show in his face. Sara tore her eyes away from the perfect roundness of his butt cheeks and that enticing, um, bulge.

"You're early?"

He seemed embarrassed. "Uh. I overestimated how long it took to get here. I've only been here the once..." They both lowered their eyes. He'd only been here once to get an explanation for Sara's anger, and the story of that had been harrowing both to tell and to hear.

He held my hand. Sara remembered, and somehow he knew what she was thinking by looking in her eyes. Grissom acknowledged her silent thanks with a tiny nod.

"I'm glad you are early, actually," Sara went on. "I know I don't eat much," Grissom looked amused. "but being told I can't eat or drink anything for 12 hours is maddening."

"I know what you mean. When I had my sur..." Oops. The big bad secret.

"When you had surgery on your hearing?" Sara asked smoothly. She shrugged at his look of surprise. "You told Catherine. Think the cat wouldn't be out of the bag?"

He chuckled. Catherine was a lot of things, but a good secret keeper, she was not.

"Plus you were gone for more than a week. She had to tell us something. And you came back with the beard. Which is very nice, by the way."

"Oh. Thanks." Sara likes my beard. "Sorry I didn't..."

"Tell me? Yeah. You didn't." She couldn't help some tartness in her reply. She drummed her fingers on the kitchen counter waiting for an explanation. Grissom gaped at her.

"Never mind. Let's go."

"No!" he said, too loudly. Sara flinched. He reached over and stilled her fingers, then pulled back. "Sorry. I should...I owe you an explanation."

"Gris, it's okay."

"I want to. It was...it was a stupid male ego thing."

Sara's eyes widened.

"It...when my hearing was failing, I wasn't dealing with it well. In fact I wasn't dealing with it at all. And when I did, think about it I mean, I was afraid of losing my job...my career...my self worth...and...you."

"Losing...me? Why would you lose me, if you went deaf?"

Grissom winced. "That was the ego talking. You're already out of my league. And as a deaf, unemployed, repressed...geek...I thought you..."

"You thought I'd give up on you?" Sara was genuinely shocked. "Do you really think I'm that shallow?"

Grissom thought hard. "No. Not exactly...no!" he said hurriedly, at her frown. "You're not shallow, Sara. I just felt...damaged."

"Now you know how I feel," Sara said softly. She touched his hand, which was still resting on the counter across from her. His fingers curled around hers, surprising them both. He stared at their hands. Hers–slim and pale, with long fingers. His–broad and big and a darker shade.

"I haven't given up on you yet, Gris." Her voice was almost...tender? Their eyes met in understanding. With this topic finally aired, a door seemed to open. Their gaze lengthened as more emotions flickered by. Hope, comfort, understanding, desire...

"I'm out of your league?" her soft voice held disbelief.

Grissom tilted his head and looked at her as if it should be obvious. "Way out of my league."

"Funny. I always thought the same thing." He quirked an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. Just looked into those warm brown eyes.

Sara's stomach rumbled. Loudly.

She laughed. "Guess we should go. Get this over with."

"Yeah." Grissom tugged her hand, pulling her around the kitchen island until she stood just in front of him. "Thanks, Sara."

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me."

"What can I say," Sara shrugged. "You're...you're important. To me."

"Me too. C'mon." Grissom tugged her out the door, only releasing her hand to let her lock up.

Once they were settled in his car, Grissom glanced over at her. She looked pensive.

"Sara?"

"Hm?"

"Do you regret–I mean, are you sorry? That you won't have kids?"

"No," she said easily. "I've never wanted children. And given my family history...of violence, addictions, and mental illness, any kid of mine would have a good chance of being screwed up."

"Any child of yours would be both brilliant and beautiful," Grissom blurted out, again surprising them both. "But I know what you mean. I never really pictured children in my life either."

They pulled up at the hospital entrance.

"Thanks for the ride."

"What time should I pick you up?"

"You don't have to..."

"Sara."

"I should be in recovery by noon."

"I'll come find you."

"Okay." She looked at him again. He really was sweet, sometimes. On an impulse, Sara leaned over and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He blushed a bit. "Get going, Sidle," Grissom said, trying to sound stern.

"I'm pretty sure they won't start without me." She slid from her seat and strode through the double doors without looking back.

TBC

A/N: What a nice reception to Chapter One. Some of your reviews make me laugh, some make me go Awwww, and all of them warm my heart. Please, keep it up. I notice that there just as many Story Alerts as there are reviews, which is encouraging. I'll do my best to update this more often than my usual track record!