AWKWARD
CHAPTER SIX
So Grissom took her home. He set her up with a kind of a nest on the couch. A blanket, an extra sweater, a bottle of water, a bag of pretzels, her pills, some magazines, and the TV and stereo remotes. He shook out a Vicodin and watched as she swallowed it. He kept jumping up to get something else until Sara told him to cut it out. So Grissom adjusted the air conditioning, took her bag into the bathroom, set out her toiletries and came back out.
Sara offered to fix them both a cup of tea but he insisted on doing it, rummaging around in her kitchen cabinets like he was searching for buried treasure. She watched in amusement.
"Sara?" Grissom sounded frustrated.
"Tea is in the tin on the counter. Sugar's above the stove. Milk–check to see if it's fresh–is in a small carton on the top shelf. Spoons are in the drawer next to the fridge. There's also a tray in with the pots and pans."
"Oh." There was some more banging and clanging and rustling noises. When the teakettle whistled he had everything ready. Sara shoved her journals and magazines aside to make a space on the coffee table. They poured their tea, sweetened it, and sipped it in a silence that threatened to become awkward, shooting little glances at each other. Sara aimed the remote at her stereo and turned the CD player on Random. Sara McLaughlin's soaring voice eased some of the tension.
"Would you like anything else? Something to eat maybe? Soup?"
"No, thank you, Gris. I'm all set."
"Oh." He sounded a little disappointed. Before he could say anything else, his pager buzzed. Grissom muttered a curse and fished it off his belt.
"It's Brass." His cell phone rang.
"Grissom. Yeah. How many?" He started to dig through his pockets. Sara produced a note pad and a pen seemingly from thin air. He smiled at her with his eyes.
"OK. Where is it?" Grissom jotted some hurried notes and finished his conversation with a snap of the phone. He looked at Sara apologetically.
"I have to go. Sorry."
She smirked at him. "Have we met? I'm familiar with this scenario."
"I know, I just...I'd rather be here with you."
"Oh." She was surprised and touched. "That's really...sweet. But, go, really. I'm fine." She flashed a brilliant smile and he returned a bashful one of his own.
He stood and got his things together. "I'll, uh, stop by later? On my way home from work?"
Sara's smile widened even more. "I'd like that, Gris. Thank you."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Grissom hesitated. He glanced from her smiling face to her folded hands to her tousled hair to her sock-clad feet to her hopeful eyes and then seemed to make a big decision. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. They both blushed.
"Bye, Sara."
"Bye, Gris."
He smiled at her again, checked his pockets, muttered something to himself, fished out his keys and opened the door. Halfway out he looked back at Sara.
"See you later."
"See you. Be careful."
"I will." Grissom waved his fingers at her and she waggled hers in return, with a soft giggle. The door closed. Sara sighed to herself with a secret smile.
Nine hours later, Grissom knocked lightly on her door and then waited. He could hear the TV on inside but no footsteps. He knocked again, then turned the handle, feeling angry with himself for leaving Sara's door unlocked. Cautiously, he went inside.
Sara was asleep on the couch but looked uncomfortable. She had kicked off the blankets at some point. Some of the magazines were scattered and the water bottle was on its side on the floor in a small puddle on the rug. The TV was flickering in the darkness, volume on too high, with an infomercial playing. Sara's face was half buried in the scratchy pillow and she was grimacing.
Grissom stepped closer. He picked up the scattered items, put the dishes and water bottle in the kitchen, mopped up the water with a dish towel, all the time trying to be very quiet. Grissom covered Sara again with the blanket and looked at her with a gentle expression. He rummaged around until he found the remote and turned off the television. The quiet woke her up. She shot up when she saw a dark figure standing over her.
"Get out! I have a gun!"
"Sara! It's me, it's just me, it's Grissom..." he said soothingly as he knelt in front of the couch and stretched out a hesitant hand.
"God, you scared me. And crap, that hurt." She felt her incision carefully.
Grissom withdrew his hand. "I'm really sorry."
She squinted at him. "How did you get in here?"
"I accidentally...I left your door unlocked, I'm so sorry."
"Is it locked now?" Sara was still breathing hard.
"Uh." He stood up and checked. The sound of the tumblers moving seemed loud. "It is now."
"Don't ever..."
"I won't, I promise," he finished for her. "How about, uh, I get you to bed?"
"Huh. Took you long enough to say that."
He could see her smirk in the dimness and chuckled.
"Touché."
TBC