May 2005
"Nick! Can you hear me!? It's going to take us a minute to get you out of there okay? Nick!? Nick!? Poncho! Listen to me!"
Grissom was leaned over the plexiglass coffin pleading for Nick to trust him.
"Put you hand on my hand." Nick calmed down and did as he was told. "Good. Now listen. There may be explosives under the box." Grissom's tone was cool and collected as he couched Nick through what they were going to do to get him out of there. Sara and Catherine could be heard behind him, directing the crew for where the rope and dirt were needed.
They opened the coffin lid and Nick's cries came pouring out. "I've got you, Nicky."
They clipped the rope to Nick's belt, poured the dirt on top and yanked him out. The explosive went off. Nick was found lying on the ground seizing. The next moments were a blur to Grissom. He watched helplessly as the EMTs worked on him, loaded him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Catherine and Warrick jumping in with him.
He stood in silence as he, Brass, Sara and Ecklie watched the Ambulance speed off.
"I want my guys back." was all he said.
The four of them stood there for a few moments longer. Gratitude washing over them that the night had ended the way it did. Knowing full well it could have easily taken a grave turn.
Grissom made his way to his Tahoe, sitting in the drivers seat. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard and sighed. He stared out the windshield for a while, watching the PD crew disassemble. Then one by one he watched as Greg, Brass, Ecklie and finally, Sara drove off.
It took him a while before he could gather the will power to drive, but he finally did. Grissom pulled the car into drive and drove out onto the road. His mind was absent as his body took over, mechanically make the maneuvers back toward the lab.
About forty minutes later he stopped his car and threw it in park. He looked around to realize he had driven to Sara's Apartment. What was he doing. He looked up at the building to see her lights on. She's home.
His feet took him out of his car, up the walkway and into the apartment building. He walked up the two flights of stairs to her floor and knocked on the door.
He could hear shuffling inside. And a few moments later the door opened. He looked up to see Sara standing there wearing a confused look and a blue cotton bathrobe. He could hear the shower water running.
"Grissom... What are you doing here?"
"I—I... I don't know." His eyes were tired and small.
"Come in." She moved to the side and he hesitantly made his way past her. She took in his appearance: tired, slumped over, worry lines etched around his eyes, his hair a curly mess, scruff a little ragged.
"Are you okay?" She touched his arm as she closed the door behind him. He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.
Sara lead him to the couch, urging him to sit. He obliged. She moved to the kitchen, and put up a pot of tea. She then disappeared out of sight. He heard the shower water turn off and a bit of rummaging. A minute later sara emerged wearing more comfortable—and appropriate—clothes. Her hair swept up in a loose bun.
The kettle whistled and Sara rejoined Grissom on the couch, handing him a cup of tea.
"Chamomile." She offered as he took the hot mug, "It's supposed to sooth, relieve stress... anxiety..."
"Thank you." His voice was small.
She watched as he tentatively sipped small amounts of the hot liquid.
"Grissom..." He looked up at her, "Nick's fine."
He nodded.
"I actually just got off the phone with Warrick a few minutes ago. They gave him a sedative to calm him down and are treating the ant bites, but other than that he's completely fine."
He looked up to make eye contact with her, "I just can't shake this feeling..." His voice trailed off, "I've tried, you know."
Sara furrowed her brow. "Tried...?"
"Tried to shake it, suppress it, rationalize it away. But I can't. And I don't know what to do about it anymore. I thought I did—but I don't."
"It'll just take time," She offered.
"That's what I thought, too. I thought that If enough time had passed it would just go away. And now six years later, It hasn't. And I don't know what to do about it."
Sara's face twisted in confusion, "Six years? Grissom, what are you talking about?"
"You." He responded as if it were obvious, and she nearly lost her balance.
"What?"
"You." He repeated. "After everything that's happened over the past 24 hours, when it all came to a head and the relief that Nick is okay washed over me, all I wanted was to see you." He looked back at her again, staring deep into her brown orbs. "You're intoxicating. I can't breathe, I can't think, when I'm in close proximity to you. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He spoke almost mindlessly, then put the mug of tea down on the coffee table and stood, pacing.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm here." He paced with small strides as she watched from her seated position on the couch, mouth slightly agape. He shook his head, "This isn't fair to you, I shouldn't be here."
Sara stood as he made his way to the door. "Gil." He turned to find here standing there mere inches from him. "Gil." She repeated, softer now.
She closed the gap between them with slow deliberate movements. Then placed her hands on his chest, palms down. She could feel his heart beating faster now. She moved her hands up to his neck, his face, the back of his head. Her long fingers intertwining in his salt and peppered curls.
He could feel his breath catch in his throat as he felt her skin on his. It was almost more than he could bare. He looked deep into her eyes.
"Sara, I—" He was quickly cut off by an obstruction—her lips on his. She had leaned in and taken his lips in hers, kissing him tenderly. He was so completely caught off guard that the kiss began one-sided. He was paralyzed as his brain tried to process the sensation that was overcoming his senses.
But soon he gained back control. He could feel her smile against him as he began to kiss her back.
She leaned back, keeping her face mere inches from his as she did. She looked deep into his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she saw relief, relaxation even. He placed a hand on her check, brushing her hair from her face. She leaned into the touch.
"Sara..." He breathed ruggedly. She nodded, as if answering an unspoken question. He leaned back down and kissed her again, this time a bit more forceful, with six years of built up passion finally able to release. She gasped against his lips and leaned further into him.
Part of her needed to speak to him, make sure this was real, that he had made his decision. But she didn't want to stop. She had waited too long for this moment—this moment that she was so sure would never come.
She felt his hands roam, resting on the small of her back, pulling her into him. She stumbled backward, pulling him with her. Leading him down the hall, never breaking the kiss.
He opened his eyes to find himself in her bedroom. Looking down at this woman, this brilliant, beautiful woman he had lusted for for so long. He tried to turn off his mind, to melt into the moment but his senses were heightened and his mind was processing every minuscule detail of each second, each motion, each touch. He couldn't tell if his breath was just ragged or if he was forgetting how to breathe.
She unzipped his jacked and pushed it off his shoulders, leaving it in a heap on the ground. "Sara..." He managed between kisses, her hands making their way under his shirt now. "Sara, Sara..."
She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him.
"Sara, wait..."
Her eyes were a shade he had never seen before. Dark pools of chocolate. She waited for him to say something.
"Shouldn't we talk about this?"
She simply shook her head, "No, Gil. We can talk after."
After what!? His mind was working overtime as he felt her hands make their way to his belt buckle. His eyes widened ten fold. He suddenly realized where this was headed. His breathing quickened.
In one swift movement he laid her down on the bed. He hovered over her, one hand on her check as he kissed her passionately, hungrily, lustfully. Her body arched upward to him.
His fingers made their way to her soft cotton shirt, lifting it up over her head to reveal her soft skin. He trailed kisses across thew newly exposed area. It was more than she could take. She fell numb.
She closed her eyes to take it all in as she made a mental note, May 22nd... it was a Sunday.