Spoilers: YGM and very slight PNN
Archive: www.grissomandsara.com. Anyone else, ask permission and I'll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I do own the plotline you're about to read, but since we all know it'd never make it to the show... then I must not own the show. Damn!
Summary: G/S (some W/C & N/OC) - Grissom wakes up the morning after the team's crazy night of charades...
Chapter 5 - Oh god I can't believe I DID that!
Her frank explanation made him feel like his breath had been knocked out of him. "I... made you sit on my lap? And kiss me?" She nodded. "Oh, Sara, I'm sorry. That never should have happened. I don't know what to say."
"I didn't ask for a response, Gris. Like I said, it's no big deal." She shrugged.
"No big deal?! I... coerced... one of my subordinates into... into... THAT!"
Sara's eyebrows shot up at his scandalized tone. "'That,' Grissom? Chill out, you were drunk. I'm not gonna file charges against you for asking for a kiss."
"Charges," he thought. "Oh shit. Everyone was there. They all saw me do... that... to Sara. God I'm mortified. She must be traumatized. Oh god. I can't believe I DID that! To Sara, of all people. There goes any respect she had for me. Shit, shit, shit."
Sara was becoming concerned. Grissom had been sitting in front of her, silent, for entirely too long. "Grissom. Talk to me. You ok?" When he didn't respond, she put a hand on his arm, ready to shake him out of it if necessary. At the touch of her hand, he jumped.
"Fine! I'm fine, Sara. I, uh... I apologize for the way I treated you last night. I'd understand if you didn't want me in your home now." He jumped to his feet and made for the door, only to be stopped short by Sara's grip on his sleeve.
"Whoa there, lone ranger - no fair running away before the damsel gets to say anything." Grissom fought the urge to let out a very Sara-like growl. "Now," she continued, "I'll tell you again. Sit." He sat. "Stay. And listen."
Grissom slouched on the couch, sulking in what he hoped was an adult-looking manner."What's left to say, Sara? Is there more to what I did last night?"
"Nope. The truth is out, so to speak. I just want to make clear that I'm not going to hold the things you did while drunk against you. Everyone does, uh, random things - like when I joined the Mile High Club?" A pause. Sara flushed, shocked that she had mentioned it. "Uh, well, my point was... you don't need to ask me to forgive you, 'cause there's nothing to forgive."
Grissom looked skeptical, but nodded. "I'd still like to make it up to you somehow, though. If not to make you feel better, than to make me feel better."
Sara grinned. "Hmm. You want to satisfy my honor... do I get to choose the weapon?" She laughed at his suddenly apprehensive expression. "Not pistols at dawn, I promise. I was thinking more along the lines of quiche." Grissom looked even more frightened. "Quiche that I cook, no less, since I know you think it'll kill you. No, not just quiche - a whole dinner!" Sara couldn't believe she'd just spilled out an invitation to dinner.
"Either you grovel by letting me cook... or I start rumors about your emotional attachment to that preserved piglet you keep in your office." She grinned.
"Oh yeah? Try me, bugman."
Grissom hoped his excitement at Sara's invitation wasn't too obvious. Trying to look unwilling, he muttered, "Fine, fine. Dinner it is. Just leave Babe out of this."
"Babe?!!?" Sara nearly fell off her chair laughing. He scowled.
"Ok Sara. When do you plan on torturing me?"
She considered. "What are you doing for the rest of today?"
Grissom blinked. "Uh... no plans. You want to do this tonight?"
"Got a better idea?" He shrugged and shook his head. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Now - you drove here." He nodded. "Good. Get your keys. We're going grocery shopping. And before you ask, no we can't take my car; it's in the shop as usual. Damn POS." He looked at her quizzically, trying to figure out how she'd gotten to work and back. "Nick drove me to work last night and Cath brought me back here."
"Oh." And in his head,"Don't get so worked up, Gil. Just because Nick drove her to work doesn't mean he was with her before that. Sara can ride with whoever she wants to."
Sara was regarding him curiously. "Earth to Grissom. Come on, let's go." Shaking his keys at him, she headed out the door.
Grissom ran a hand through his hair and headed after his energetic... his energetic what? Protégé? Friend? Lust object? He sighed out loud as he reached the car. Sara was just climbing into the driver's seat.
"Sara? This is my car. I'll drive it."
"You drove last time we went to a scene together. My turn."
"This is not work, Sara, and this is not a department vehicle. It's a Grissom vehicle. Now, out." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating that she should get out of his seat.
Sara harrumphed. "Never knew you were so territorial. You didn't, like, scent-mark my couch too, did you?"
"Not funny, Sara. Out." Grumbling, Sara removed herself and plopped into the passenger seat. "Now, where are we going?"
"The Whole Foods a few blocks up. You know, this'd be a lot easier if I were driving. You wouldn't need me to give you directions."
"You're not driving my car. I've seen you drive yours, and I'm quite sure I know why it's always in the shop. I'd like to keep mine running for as long as possible, and that means you don't get to put your little hands on the steering wheel." He turned back to the road. "And I know where the grocery stores around here are. I just wanted to know which one you shop at."
Sara was speechless for a moment. "You really don't think too much of me, huh Grissom. I can't cook, I can't drive - is the only thing I'm good for solving cases?"
"I didn't say that." Besides, he thought, there were other things he imagined she'd be good for that were more fun than dusting for prints. No, don't think about that. Sara is not a sex object, didn't I learn my lesson last night?
"You didn't have to say it. Just drive, Grissom. Let's get this over with."
He couldn't avoid noticing the hurt that was plain on her face. "Sara I know you can do other things. I'm going to eat your cooking, that says a lot about whether I trust your kitchen abilities..."
They were pulling into the parking lot. "I said let it go, Grissom. I'll prove you wrong about my cooking, anyway." She strode toward the door, snatching a cart and launching it toward him. As Sara swept through the automatic doors, Grissom was left to struggle along behind her pushing the recalcitrant cart.
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