Chapter Twenty Four:
Sara enters her apartment, the curtains open a crack, the morning sun coating every surface in an orange haze, the slightest cover of dust on the coffee table, on the kitchen worktops. Dropping her bag on the floor, toeing off her shoes she heads towards the kitchen. Her once favourite mug pulled harshly from the cupboard, running her finger around the rim in a comforting fashion. Moving towards the stove, she considers the shelf of different teas that line the counter top. Selecting a peppermint kind she carries the kettle over to the sink, letting the water run for a few moments before filling it just halfway. Setting the kettle down on the stove she turns her attention back to the nearly bare room before her. Many of her books, cds, her favourite throw all now relocated to his condo, the sparse apartment a reminder of her ghost like existence before they knew what to do about this. Gazing at the chair and sofa that started it all, the best thing that has ever happened to her, she recounts the memory of his strong hold on her that day. The chill from the window, how he smelt, the comforting swirls drawn across her skin, how after that moment they slipped so easily into this life together.
Everything was going from strength to strength. The slow moments together, the long mornings, the mind blowing and sometimes too frequent sex. The I love you's. The laughter, the tears. The stolen glances across a crime scene, holding hands during the long drives back from the middle of nowhere. The emotionless tin man did indeed know what to do about this and was doing a really fucking good job at being the caring, attentive and loving boyfriend Sara Sidle never had. So why on a Friday night is she back at her cold, lonely apartment? Her cell phone pinging draws her attention back to her bag discarded by the front door, deciding to ignore it she moves through the apartment like she would process a crime scene. Landing in her bedroom she pulls open a few drawers, with some basic things left behind she pulls some sweats and a oversized hoody from a drawer. Returning to the kitchen, the kettle howling for her attention, she pours the molten water into her mug and bobs the teabag up and down a few times. Her phone has gone off at least half a dozen times since she left the lab, but she knows its him and ignoring it, ignoring him seems like the best option for now. Walking into the living room, she settles on the sofa, switching the television on when there is a knock on the door. Whilst debating whether to answer, another knock quickly follows, heaving herself up she makes towards the door. Looking through the peephole, of course he is here. Pulling the door open slowly, she stands in the doorway, previous encounters like this have seen her swinging open the door moving to one side or just walking away, giving him entry. But now, she stands her ground. His head snaps up.
'You weren't answering your phone.' He doesn't move, hands braced in fists at his side, his tell that he is thinking, probably overthinking.
'It must be on do not disturb.' He pulls his cell from his pocket, holding down speed dial 1, holding it up between them, maintaining eye contact. A second later her cell blares from the floor. They both look down, he pockets his cell, taking a step forward.
'Can I come in?' The question seems foreign in his mouth.
'Sure.' She steps to the side; he brushes past and turns when he is just about inside.
'Sara, I don't know what's happened, or what hasn't happened so I need some help understanding why you are here, alone, when you should… You could be at home with me. Are you angry at me?'
'I'm not angry… I'm just confused.' He cocks his head to the side, like a lost puppy. He is really going to have her spell it out for him isn't he. 'Thermite?' She crosses her arms over her chest. 'It burns and burns, until it burns itself out. Finally consuming both elements.' Not getting the point he shrugs, burying his hands in his pockets. Rolling her eyes she turns and walks away back towards the kitchen, opening the fridge, praying for a beer or some form of alcohol to soothe the awkwardness. Finding nothing other than some cheese and hot sauce, she straightens, turns, and looks at him.
'Its just, if that is your way of telling me that you don't want this anymore, that you are tired of this, of us, then it's a pretty shitty way to go about it.' Grissom stands in the same spot by the door, hands still in his pockets, a confused and scared look on his face. Noticing his lack of movement and actual contribution to the conversation, she walks back over to him. 'Can you at least say something? Just… Anything… Please.' He smiles a sad smile, brings his hands out and up to frame her face, tugging her closer he smothers her mouth with his own. Holding her close, peppering kisses across her mouth and face. Stepping back, he rubs his hands down her shoulders and arms, lacing his fingers with hers at her sides.
'Do you really think I don't want this? That I'm tired of us?' She pulls her hands from his grasp and folds her arms across her chest again, playing with the worn elbow of one of the sleeves. He takes a step back. 'Would you believe me if I said that I was merely doing research based off something Conrad said that impressed me?' Her eyebrows shoot up, almost meeting her hairline.
'Ecklie?' She unfurls her arms and drops them to her sides. He simply nods walking around the room.
'Would you believe me when I say that seeing you across the break room eating the lunch we made together that morning in my kitchen, makes my heart race.' She smiles at the back of his head as he circles the room.
'Or that every time I see you take a sip from a water bottle at a scene, that I imagine your lips on mine, on me.' He lifts the now empty kettle, shaking it slightly. 'That every time you squint your eyes in concentration over a piece of evidence, I picture you sat at the breakfast bar in the mornings pouring yourself over a crossword puzzle whilst I make us omelettes.' He moves around her so he is stood behind her now. Leaning forward he nuzzles her neck making her purr slightly. 'Would you believe me if I said that I am so engrossed by you and your every move that sometimes when I'm in work I daydream of you naked, sprawled out on my desk in my office?' Her breath hitches and she drops her head, embarrassed at the mere notion that his comment could have had some hidden meaning. 'I am so beyond tired of… this.' His soft lips carressing her neck slightly, her pulse, throbbing in her neck. 'That I drove here, running a red light, just to see if you were ok, because you weren't in my bed when I got home.' Her eyes close, breathing through her nose trying to compose herself. 'Is that what you needed to hear?' She nods twice but says nothing. 'Now. Seeing as we are both back on the same page, why don't we go to bed. It's been a long night and I've missed you.' She turns to him, her face crimson red. Nodding she lets him lead her to the dark sanctuary of her bedroom where they lie in bed, talking, whispering to one another until sleep envelops them.