Chapter 11, Looking Stunning

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GRISSOM AND SARA were walking down the lab hallway wearing matching lab coats. They were approaching the swing door where they would part ways: Sara to continue working on the Cornwell case, and Grissom to answer some questions from Doc Robins about another case before meeting up with Sara again. They walked slowly, with Grissom looking at the files in the folder Sara was holding.

"Two things to tell you. The first is that I looked into Mr. Cornwell Senior…"

Grissom raised his eyebrows. "Did you find anything good?"

Sara shrugged. "Apparently, he's a regular guy. Married to the same wife his whole life, two kids, Ben, and a woman who's been living in London for ten years. Owns a cabinet-making factory."

"And on the day of the crime?" Grissom asked.

"He was at an event in San Francisco with his wife. Unlikely to have participated in the crime," Sara replied.

"Okay. And the second thing?"

"I was looking into the clothes Ben Cornwell wore the day of the crime. Check out this pattern on his shirt. Notice how there are these diagonal marks, all clearly visible. In other areas, they seem to follow the same pattern, but they're almost nonexistent…"

"Yes, they look like impressions…" Grissom murmured in understanding.

"Exactly, I believe they're marks from the window's protective screen that transferred onto his white shirt when he—"

What Sara was about to say remained a mystery. In one second, she was standing next to Grissom. In the next, she was lying on the ground with her hands on her nose, while the papers she was holding scattered around her.

"My God! Sara!" Warrick exclaimed in his deep voice. Grissom was already kneeling beside Sara on the floor when he saw Warrick join him. "I'm sorry, Sara, I'm sorry! I was—"

"Let me see how she's doing, Sara," Grissom said, interrupting his colleague, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sara was coughing, her eyes closed, blood spreading across her face.

"Grissom, man, it looks bad. I'm gonna call for help," Warrick said as he was already running down the hallway.

"Sara, take your hand off, let me take a look at your face. Please," Grissom asked once more, calmly but with a note of distress.

"I—"

"I know it hurts, let's take it slow. I'll help you, let me know if it hurts more," Grissom said as he covered her hand with his own and gently moved it away from her face, revealing a large pool of blood mixed with tears.

"Okay, it's all right. Warrick went to get help."

"I—"

Grissom touched the bridge of Sara's nose with his thumb and index finger, which made her instinctively pull back. Suddenly, the people in their respective labs started gathering to watch the scene up close.

"Shouldn't he have worn gloves before touching blood like that?" he heard someone ask in the background. "I mean… Not that Sara has anything, you know, I just…"

Grissom fought the insane urge to look back and note the name of the person speaking nonsense about something they knew nothing about. But at that moment, he had more urgent matters to attend to.

"What's your pain level, between 0 and 10, Sara?" he asked gently.

Still with her eyes closed and struggling to breathe, Sara weakly replied, "Seven," which made Grissom calculate that the actual pain level was probably around 14.

"It doesn't seem to be broken, but we'll check with the X-ray, okay?" Grissom said. Then, after a sigh and in a lower tone, so only Sara could hear, he said, "What makes a person open this door with so much force without looking through the window?"

"It was an accident, Grissom, don't blame Warrick, it was an accident. He— He went to get help right away. It was an accident." She closed her eyes again. "That's what someone does after an accident, they get help. You— you don't get help when you do something on purpose, right?"

Grissom knew where she was going with this, and he didn't need to hear the rest of the analysis of Ben's clothes to put the pieces together. If the marks on the father's white shirt contained imprints from the window's protective screen, it meant he pressed himself against it—a pressure strong enough for the dust, paint, or any other particles to mark Ben Cornwell's shirt. Not having asked for help from the authorities, calling his father several times, and delaying going to his own daughter's body, not even kneeling beside her, suggested a solid investigative path: Did Naeve die at the hands of her own father?

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AFTER RECEIVING the first aid from the paramedics and swallowing a painkiller, Sara went for the X-ray and, as Grissom had predicted, her nose wasn't broken—thankfully. The area was still quite sore, and bruises were already visible on her face.

With Warrick apologizing repeatedly, Sara sat down on the couch in Grissom's office with an ice pack against her face, waiting for the medication to take effect. "If you think you can wait a bit, we can swing by to pick up Hank, see how his day went, and then we'll head home together. What do you think?" Grissom proposed.

As the investigation moved forward with a solid theory to test, going home much earlier than expected wasn't exactly what Sara wanted for the day. But she had to admit to herself that, although she didn't want to feel like her whole face had been pierced, she was missing Hank and wanted to make sure he was happy and well after his day at the ranch.

Since Grissom hadn't let her take the analyses and other evidence from the Cornwell case to his office, Sara was practically doing nothing but holding an ice pack to her face and staring at an empty office. Without thinking twice, she pulled out her phone and searched for the babysitter's contact in her contacts list. The phone rang twice before Julie answered.

"Hey, Julie! It's Sara… Sara Sidle here, how's Hank doing?"

Julie spent the next two or three minutes excitedly talking about how Hank and the other dogs had enjoyed their day at the ranch, running, playing, and digging. She also mentioned that Hank hadn't had any issues, behaved well, and would probably spend the next three days sleeping because of how tired he was.

Sara felt relieved. She knew Hank would enjoy the day in a different place, and that Gil's concern was totally unfounded, but it was a relief to know she was right in the end. She didn't want to prolong the call or hear any more details. Julie mentioned that she had filmed several clips and taken many pictures, and soon she'd put together a collection to send to the owners of each dog. But she promised that when Grissom and Sara came to pick him up in a few hours, she would show them a preview.

Deciding that she wanted to share the moments of surprise at seeing Hank having so much fun with Grissom, she hung up the phone but not before saying, "I'm so glad Hank liked it. Give him a kiss from me and tell him I miss him so much."

After ending the call and tossing the phone aside, she jumped in surprise when she saw Catherine's silhouette in the doorway of the office. Sara immediately ran through the conversation she'd had with Julie, trying to remember if she'd mentioned "Gil and I" at any point.

Catherine's expression was one of surprise, but Sara was sure she hadn't said anything compromising. Had something developed in the Cornwell case?

"Hey, Cath!"

"Sara, I heard about the accident. You all right?" she said. Maybe her face was totally broken, which could explain the expression on Cath's face, which looked like she had just seen a ghost.

"Well… I feel like my head is broken in a million pieces. But they gave me some meds, I'm just waiting for them to kick in."

"I'm sorry that happened. If you need anything—more ice, food, medication, a ride home… I'm all yours," she said.

Sara felt a little emotional for no reason. First the call with Julie, now Cath being so kind. It was probably the medication working. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with Gil, rest her head on his chest, listen to his heartbeat, and feel his arms around her. Hank sleeping in his dog bed beside his toy. She just wanted to have a nice, cozy dinner with Gil, maybe watch a movie. She wanted to go home.

"Thanks, Cath, I really appreciate it," Sara said, trying not to let her emotions show in her voice. "I just hope I don't need reconstructive surgery."

"Well, I don't think you will, but I've got some referrals if necessary," they both laughed, and then Cath left.

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GRISSOM WAS on his way to his office, looking through the hallways and labs, ready to help Sara gather her things and head home together when he ran into Catherine along the way.

"Cath, I was looking for you."

"I was just in your office. Had a chat with Sara," Cath said.

"Oh. How's she doing? Does she need anything?"

"Well… I was a little surprised, actually," she said.

"Surprised…? About something I should know?"

"I don't think you should know, but… Remember Hank, right?"

"Hank?" Grissom asked, a little uncomfortable.

"Yeah, that paramedic she dated, you know, tall, strong, great voice, gorgeous..."

Grissom nodded. "It's fine, Cath, I'm aware."

"I guess she was on the phone with someone, saying she missed him. I mean…" she clapped her hands before resting them on her hips. "I never pictured Sara as a woman who'd forgive cheating, you know? Then she got a little teared up… I don't know, maybe she never got over him, after all."

Grissom opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wasn't sure how to react to that without letting any sensitive information slip. But the advantage of being him was that everyone expected very different reactions from him, especially when it came to the personal lives of his subordinates.

"Did she complain of pain?" he asked, completely ignoring the talk of cheating, past relationships, and Hank, the paramedic.

"Yes, but she was holding the ice pack to her face. Hey, I can give her a ride home, if you want. I don't think she's in a condition to drive."

"I appreciate it, Cath, but I'm going to take her home. I'll also take the opportunity to end the day earlier, I need to take care of a few things. You'll take the lead?"

"Of course!" she said. After thanking her, Grissom went straight to his office.

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AS PROMISED, Julie didn't spare Grissom and Sara from photos and videos of Hank and the other dogs having the time of their lives on the farm. Neither Grissom nor Sara imagined that Hank could be so active. In various recordings, he dug the earth vigorously, went in and out of small pools full of water, and even carried a large tree branch alone in his mouth with several dogs following behind.

"I told you he'd have a blast," Sara said, poking Grissom's side. Grissom smiled back at her.

"I was worried he'd hurt himself," Grissom explained to Julie.

"Oh, no, no! He is a very sweet and calm boy. Even when we took all of them to take a bath to get ready for you guys, he didn't complain at all. Not even cried," the sitter told them.

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AT GRISSOM'S house, Hank went straight to his feeding bowl to wait for his food. It was no surprise at all for Gil and Sara to see the dog eat and immediately go to his dog bed to sleep. The day had been busy for everyone, especially for Hank.

"How are you feeling, honey? Do you want to eat something?"

Sara, who was sitting on the couch watching Hank sleep, with the ice pack against her face, replied that she could barely open her mouth to speak. She didn't see herself chewing anything for a while.

"I can make a smoothie for you to drink with a straw. It's been hours since you last ate, and taking medication on an empty stomach isn't good."

Sara agreed, and while Gil prepared the smoothie, she swallowed another anti-inflammatory, returning with the ice pack, her new best friend, to her face. When Gil gave her the glass of banana smoothie a few minutes later, with an orange straw, he kissed the top of her head, and she drank eagerly, even though the suction made her feel a bit of pain. In front of her, Gil was eating a tuna sandwich while looking at her.

"You're beautiful, Sara."

Sara scoffed. "Okay, Gil. I bet I look my best at the moment."

"Well... Even knocked out by a door, you still look stunning, dear."

Giving him a skeptical look, she put the glass in the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom, announcing she'd take a shower before bed. Grissom smiled. After a few minutes, he heard the shower water turn on and decided that he, too, would take a shower.

The shower water was warm enough, and Grissom closed his eyes when he felt the cascade fall on his head and run down his entire body to the floor. Sara was applying shampoo to her hair. Usually, she didn't wash her hair before going to sleep. "It's bad for the scalp," she told him once. She must have been feeling quite dirty to give up one of her rules.

As he soaped himself, Gil made room for her to receive the water spray to remove the shampoo from her hair. Sara loved taking showers. He considered himself clean and hygienic enough, but Sara was another story. Showering was part of her daily routine and also her relaxation routine, a way to try to leave what happened on the street and at work behind, to let it drain away.

Gil looked at her defined, well-drawn back, her long, strong, sensual legs, and didn't understand why she thought he was lying when complimenting her appearance, even when knocked out by accident.

When she turned and opened her eyes to him, his heart beat faster. Not just from desire, but also from affection, admiration, infinite tenderness. He moved slowly under the spray, where she still was, and gave her a light kiss on the lips, so as not to hurt her even more. From there, his mouth moved to the side of her neck, where he kissed her more intensely, moving behind her ear, returning to her neck and resting on her shoulder. Meanwhile, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he felt her nipples hardening against his chest.

"I'm in love with you, Sara. I feel I'll always be in love with you."

She put her arms behind his neck, bringing him even closer to her body, and rested her head on his shoulder. Grissom went back to kissing her. While on her wet hair, face, and ear were tender and lingering kisses, on her neck and shoulders, he kissed her more intensely, his tongue exploring the area and capturing her taste and water. Sara's hands began to travel, passing over his strong chest, abdomen, and a little lower, found his erect penis, firm, begging for attention.

And attention she gave, holding it firmly in her hand.

"It's not about that," he sighed in her ear.

"I know," she managed to reply.

And she began to move her hand, slowly, without any rush, feeling every detail of his member. She wanted to kiss him desperately, but with her face swollen, aching, and hurt, she couldn't even if she wanted to very much. She felt Gil's right arm descending and his hand covering her pussy. She felt a shiver of anticipation.

It was calmly that Gil began to caress her before reaching her clitoris, where he began to apply circular movements that made Sara open her legs without much awareness of it. The impact was immediate, as he felt increased pressure and speed of her hand on his own penis. The sensation of building pleasure led both to moan, and to intensify their ministrations to each other. While Gil kissed her body, Sara squeezed his butt with her free hand, bringing him closer to her.

Gil moved his fingers, bringing his index finger inside her, while his thumb covered her clitoris. Sara let out a loud moan, and Gil did his best to remember that he couldn't kiss her on the mouth to feel her tongue on his. Damn door.

His movement inside Sara intensified for real, the speed doubled, when he felt her hand on his chest, pushing him away. Carefully, he removed his finger from inside her.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No," she simply replied, putting her arms back behind his neck and taking him with her against the wall, where she leaned and raised one of her legs, placing him between them. He took the raised leg and put it around his waist. Feeling daring, he did the same with the other.

With Sara firm in his arms, and pinned against the wall, he penetrated her slowly, but forcefully. Once inside her, he withdrew his penis and penetrated again in one go.

"That's it," Sara said.

And so he repeated for a few more times until he decided to maintain a strong, accelerated, and constant rhythm. He heard Sara's voice, but he also heard himself moaning, his rhythm increasing desperately seeking the explosion of both, Sara's walls tightened around him and seconds later he heard the air leaving her lungs as her body trembled. Gil increased the speed and pressure even more and, soon after, came inside her.

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ALREADY DRY, DRESSED, fed, very satisfied and lying in bed, Sara observed her own appearance in the reflection of the mirror that was on the side table, and concluded that it could be worse. The gel, the medicines, and the ice certainly helped to reduce the damage from the door hitting her face. She just couldn't tell if the decrease in pain intensity was due to this or Gil's care for her.

Finally, Gil turned off the last light and was heading to his side of the bed, shirtless, barefoot, wearing only his blue boxer shorts. This was how Sara liked it best. In fact, if she were to be honest with herself, there was a no-pajama option that she didn't like to feel against her own body. But this version was definitely a favorite. And it was with a happy sigh that she felt him moving and fitting behind her, also letting out a sigh of relief and gratitude, while his arm rested around her waist

.

"Dear..." he sighed in her ear.

"Honey...?" she responded.

"What's your pain level right now?"

"Manageable. Lot less than before, a lot less."

"I can change your ice pack during the night, but I guess it would be better if you slept," he said, kissing behind her ear.

"Yeah, I'll try to sleep. This medication is good, I guess. My face would be worse without it, for sure."

There were a few seconds of silence before he spoke again.

"You know, it was nice telling Cath that I would take you home today," he said, accommodating himself better behind her, "It felt... Good and right."

Sara didn't quite know how to react hearing that statement, especially after the declaration made in the shower. When she started dating Gil, he surprised her in many ways. Even though he was distant and living in his own world for hundreds of moments, Gil could be incredibly sweet and said beautiful things to her out of absolute nowhere, returning to act as always at the same speed.

Sara was never someone to sleep together, hugged, spooning. In the first minutes of the night and upon waking up, fine. But 98% of the rest of the night, it was each in their own corner, thank you. Sometimes she'd prefer to go to sleep in the living room, even.

With Gil, from the first day they had sex, and he asked to sleep in her apartment, he showed himself super favorable to sleeping together and spooning. Surprisingly, it was common that, in one way or another, they were always very close or touching throughout the night.

"I like your smell", was what he said when she brought up the subject once. Over the months, she became an adept, and finds herself missing his body when they're not together. Fortunately, this is increasingly rare.

And lately, there's been one more novelty: talking about the future. Never, in all the years Sara has known Gil, would she say that he would be the first to say I love you, or ask about the desire for children, and even less suggest - even remotely - how good it would be if their relationship were public.

She knew very well that he wouldn't make that decision or let that information slip frivolously. Gil is, above all, a person who plans. And both knew the problems surrounding letting this little secret slip. She knew he wouldn't do that. But, without a doubt, because of an accident, the first spark appeared. How high could this flame rise?

Sara sighed.

Sometimes it was difficult to allow herself to be loved. Gil took care of her meals, liked to make sure she slept well, and made a point of making her feel comfortable when she was at his house. For a person who, since childhood, was neglected, having someone who embraces her flaws is a sensation that goes far beyond her. It's a seductive sensation that brings an explosion of happiness, accompanied by the fear of being pushed off the cliff. Sara wasn't used to being loved, it was too strange for her, but she felt immensely happy to have someone so patient with her, who accompanies her on all the steps of this great staircase of life together.

She took Gil's hand and brought it close to her face, intertwining her fingers with his.

"I love you, Gil," she said.

"And I love you, Sara," he replied.

TBC