AWKWARD

CHAPTER FOUR

Sara made a fumbling attempt to dress. With a struggle, she got her bra and underwear on. She then tugged her T-shirt over her head, but bit her lip when she tried to pull on her jeans. There was a sharp pain along her incision. Involuntarily, she whimpered. She stilled and tried to will the pain to subside, but it felt like a knife. A sob escaped.

"Sara?" Grissom's worried voice came through the curtain. "Are you all right? Can I come in?"

"Umm."

Grissom took that as a yes, and hurried through, letting the curtain close behind him. Sara was grimacing with pain. Tears were brimming in her eyes. Her pants were only to her knees and she was gripping them with white-knuckled intensity.

"What is it?" Grissom intentionally looked at her face and away from the state of her clothing. "Sara? Tell me."

"I think..." She felt down around the lap pads across her lower abdomen and peeled away one side. Blood oozed along the incision.

"I tore some stitches." Sara lay back, frustrated.

Grissom awkwardly tugged the sheet up around her hips. The red incision was too close to her pubic hair. He wanted to but didn't want to look.

"I'll call the nurse." He pressed the call button and looked at her with a worried expression. This can't be right. What's the big hurry to leave, anyway?

"Gris. Uh." Sara looked away and then back again, hating to ask for help. "Can you, uh, tug my pants back off?"

He blushed to his ears, but obeyed. Grissom pulled them off from the cuffs, trying but failing not to notice her plain white panties and bra and long naked legs. As quickly as possible, Grissom pulled the sheet back up to cover her body, then the blanket as well.

"Guess you didn't imagine." At his questioning look, Sara continued. "This was how... the first time you undressed me."

Grissom pursed his lips, blushing even deeper, and couldn't come up with a response. Sara felt a bit of relief to shift her embarrassment to him, and smirked.

A nurse, a different one, came in the hospital room at last.

"Ms. Sidle tore her stitches," Grissom said accusingly. "I don't see why she's being sent home so soon after major surgery."

The nurse examined the wound but had no chance to comment. Grissom went on and on, venting his fear and worry in an angry rant over Sara' treatment and the hospital policies and procedures and the medical system as a whole...

"Grissom."

"I don't see why she can't heal up here for another day at least, it's just common sense, at least to have the stitches take hold. What kind of hospital is this? Hospitals are places to heal, not revolving doors..."

"Grissom!"

"Not to mention she's a public servant, a member of the law enforcement community. She..."

"GRISSOM!" The loud yell from the patient finally stopped his tirade. "She is sitting right here, and she would appreciate it if you stopped talking for a second."

He did.

"Look, he's right," she sighed heavily. "I'm not ready to go home. Could I...could we talk to the surgeon again?"

"I'll page him. It may take awhile. I heard one of the other nurses say he was scrubbing for surgery." The nurse glared at the two of them and then stalked out with a huff.

Sara pressed the lap pads firmly against her incision and retaped it. She pulled up the bedcovers and sighed, looking away.

Grissom felt tongue-tied again. He was a little ashamed of his outburst, it being very unlike him. But this was Sara. Sara was in pain. Sara, who never complained, who barely acknowledged hurt or discomfort or fatigue. It must be bad, very bad indeed, to bring tears to her eyes and to make her admit she wasn't ready to leave the hospital. He looked at her, gauging her state of mind, and willing her to look back. Sara was twisting the edge of the blanket.

"I...I'm sorry," he said at last. Sara glanced at him quickly and then away. "I just don't like to see you in pain."

She acknowledged this with a nod and a brief grateful smile but still didn't meet his eyes.

"It's okay, Grissom. You don't have to wait around. Go...get some rest, go get something to eat. Go to work. I'm fine." He protested, she was firm, he protested some more, she got frustrated. Finally he relented, but only when she asked him to get her some things from her apartment. Sara gave him her keys and rattled off a list of items. Grissom listened, memorizing. Then he patted her hand awkwardly and left without another word.

Sara watched him retreat and then looked out the doorway, deep in thought. This was a very different side of Grissom. Protective, concerned, thoughtful...dared she hope this meant he did have feelings for her? Or was it just pity? She lay back down and closed her eyes.

Grissom unlocked Sara's door and gingerly stepped inside. The atmosphere was very different without her around. He chided himself when he realized he was beginning to process it as if her place were a crime scene, but couldn't resist a little snooping around. After all, she asked for comfortable clothes, and the clothes were in her bedroom, right? And Sara's bedroom was...the inner sanctum. The setting for a thousand dreams. At the door, he hesitated. Should I call Catherine instead? No. I'm here. And she asked me.

So here he was, and damn he wished he wasn't alone in there. The dark-walled room was warm and inviting. The light switch lit one small lamp on the bedside table. Blackout curtains kept it otherwise in darkness. The big bed was neatly made, pillows fluffed, rug straight. There was a hamper of dirty laundry at the foot of the bed, but otherwise Sara's bedroom was as neat as a pin.

Only one framed photograph was on the wall, right next to the mirror atop her dresser. Grissom walked to it. It was the one of the two of them, that distant day traipsing around San Francisco, with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. He looked younger, thinner, with dark hair, and she...she was so young and vibrant. Big smile. Beautiful. He stared at the photo of two of them, looking so carefree and happy. Sara had gotten hers enlarged and framed. Grissom had the same one, but it was just stuck on his fridge with a spider magnet. This must mean a lot to her. She looks at it every day, as she's getting dressed, he mused. Catching sight of his wistful smile in the mirror, Grissom shook his head and opened drawers, gathering Sara's wish list.

TBC