Chapter Forty Four:

'Hey.' Sara balances her cell between her ear and shoulder, picking up the pot from the stove top and moving carefully over to the kitchen island, gently shooing Hank away with her foot.

'Hey. I'm just on my way home, do we need anything?' Grissom sits back in the seat of his truck, his hand coming up to rub his forehead, a migraine brewing in the background.

'We need to talk…' She pauses, holding the pot in mid-air above her cup.

'Ok.' A long pause.

'Toothpaste.' She clears her throat, transferring her weight between her feet, she pours the boiling water over her tea bag and places the pot back down on the stove.

'Toothpaste. Got it.'

'Drive safe.' She hangs up the phone and heads up the stairs, settling down on the sofa, she flicks on the tv, finding something to fill the time until he is home and the inevitable happens. 45 minutes later and she hears his footsteps approaching the door, Hank bolts from his place at her feet to greet him as he steps into the room. A brown paper bag in one hand, a potted plant in the other.

'Hi. Hi boy, mind… Hank mind… Hank Move!' He raises his voice; Hank's tail drops down between his legs and he cowers away coming back over to Sara on the sofa. She sits up and rubs his head with both hands.

'Don't shout at him like that, he's just excited to see you.'

'He was in my way.'

'He hasn't seen you in nearly three whole days Gil, he got excited.' She stands and walks over to him snatching the potted plant from his hand. 'Is this for me?'

'Yes.'

'Is it an apology?' He stews for a moment.

'Sort of.'

'Sort of?' She turns, bolting down the stairs to the sink. 'You can't just buy me a plant every time you fuck up Gil.' She places the plant down on the cold bottom of the sink.

'I didn't buy it because I fucked up. It's the one you wanted, that you couldn't get last week.' She looks down into the sink, looking at the plant properly and noticing he is right. 'I asked the girl on the checkout last week to put one aside for me when they next came in. They had a delivery this morning.' She turns back to him, arms crossed over her chest in a defensive manner. He treads down the stairs slowly, walking around to the opposite side of the island placing the bag between them. Reaching into the bag he pulls out the toothpaste, some of her favourite herbal tea bags, a can of his deodorant and a toy for Hank. 'Hank, come here boy.' Hank slowly emerges at the top of the stairs, staring down at his two owners, distance and cold. He tackles the stairs slowly, coming to stop at his side. He bends down behind the island, causing Sara to walk around to the side to watch them together. 'I'm sorry I shouted at you. I just didn't want to step on you and hurt you.' He reaches up and pulls the toy from the counter. 'Here, what's this? Eh? A new toy for Sir Hank? Here you go.' He holds out the item, Hank excitedly taking it in his mouth and trotting away to his spot under the window. She smiles as she watches the happy pup trot away.

'One down, one to go.' She leans on the counter, the marble digging into her hip but she doesn't let it show on her face. Grissom raises from his crouching position at her feet and straightens up coming within just a few inches of her.

'Come with me.' He takes her hand and leads her out of the kitchen, down the hallway into the spare room. Pushing her inside he shoves her gently towards the decent sized bed in the centre of the room.

'Why are we in the spare room? Is this my new digs, its nice but I would want to make a few changes, if that's…' He closes the door and spins interrupting her.

'Will you stop talking for a minute please….' Stunned to silence for one of the first times in her life, she shifts uncomfortably on the bed, bringing her arms in front of her chest again. 'I brought us in here because there are no distractions, nothing too personal to draw our attention away from one another. This room has the least amount of… Us in it that you can't suddenly decide to put away the laundry or start to rearrange the bookshelf, like you normally do we when need to talk.' She raises an eyebrow at him, pissed that he knows her so well, that in the moments when serious talk is required, albeit it not so frequently, she will try to busy herself with some mundane tasks in the hopes that it makes the time pass quicker or that he will get restless at her constant moving around that he will drop the topic and move on. She nods in his direction.

'Proceed.' He stands before her, leaning back to perch on the edge of a set of drawers under the window opposite the foot of the bed. He rubs his cheek with his left hand, his right gripping the wood beneath him, either for support or courage, he isn't sure.

'Yes. I spent the night at Heathers. She needed a friend, I'm the only one she trusts. We talked; we drank tea. I helped her fall asleep then moved downstairs where I read until she woke up.'

'How?' He hesitates, looking down at his feet, then back up to her face.

'I held her hand.' She looks away, her arms uncurling and resting at her sides, tucking her hands under her thighs.

'You held my hand.'

'That was different.'

'How.'

'I'm in love with you.'

'You don't love her?'

'No.'

'Ever?'

'I thought I did once. But I soon realised, I only loved the idea of her.' She shakes her head, questioning him silently. 'She was a distraction.'

'From?'

'You.' An 'oh' forming in her mouth. She looks down at his feet, then moves her eyeline down to her own, rigid in the soft plush carpet. She presses her lips together. 'Sara. I could never… You're…' He steps forward, coming down to kneel in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he grips them tightly in her lap. 'Sara. I would never do anything to hurt you. Heather is a friend, she was hurting.'

'Would you be happy if I spent the night with Nick? Warrick?' She pauses. 'Greg? No call, no message to say where I was.' His head drops down, almost resting on her knees. Looking up, staring into her eyes, he whispers.

'I trust you. Do you trust me?' She nods timidly. 'Honey. If I could go back in time I would have called. I'm sorry I didn't let you know what was happening.' She nods in agreement to his words, a calm relief coming over them both suddenly.

'Did you sleep with her?' He stands abruptly, had she not just listened to him mere moments ago. She notices his face, crumpled with anger, confusion and she quickly stands. 'I know what you said, I mean before. Before we, you know?' She gestures between them. His face relaxes and he rubs a palm down her bare arm.

'No. I couldn't do it.' She nods again and brings her hand up to play with the buttons on his shirt.

'Catherine said, at the scene. That she thinks you did, she said, she wonders who wore the chaps.' She is focusing on the buttons under her slim fingers. He laughs, his chest and belly jumping up and down in her eyeline. She looks up at his face, taking in his boyish grin.

'If only she knew the types of things you have worn for me.' His eyes twinkle and she thumps his chest, not hard enough to hurt but to bring him back down to her level for a moment.

'Has she ever expressed an interest in you?'

'Personally, yes. Romantically… No.'

'That simple?' He nods.

'Ok.'

'Ok.'

'I'm sorry I overreacted.'

'You didn't. I'm sorry I went AWOL and didn't call.'

'You're forgiven, just don't make a habit of it.' She moves to walk past him. 'Jim was ready to kick your ass you know.'

'I know. We had a talk.'

'When?'

'Before I left the lab. He said, I'd be wearing my ass for a hat if I did anything to hurt you.' He moves across the room to join her, they walk together back to the kitchen, he tips away her now cold cup of tea and begins the process of making her another. For the next hour they sit at the kitchen bar, talking until tiredness wins and they retreat to their room to sleep soundly til the next shift beckons.