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 55 - This is not a threat
Grissom couldn't resist placing Sara with him for the night's cases. As he started the Tahoe to take them to an assault and battery at a bar, he caught a glimpse of her face out of the corner of his eye. Was she feeling more human now? "Ok," he finally said in a neutral voice, "what time do you think we should set the alarm for tomorrow? I hadn't taken into account the extra time needed for two people to get ready, instead of one."
Sara shrugged. "Yeah, um, sorry about that. There wasn't any reason for me to lose my temper. So why don't we try for 5:30 tomorrow." Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, she added, "My brush didn't actually leave a mark, did it?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I'm tougher than that. Manly man, you know."
Sara snorted in response. "Whatever you say, Gris. So... are we there yet?"
Grissom nodded and pointed out Sara's window. "That bar over there." He parked in the small section of lot that the police had cordoned off for investigators' use.
Grissom blinked at her. "What?" Sara's face had gone a shade lighter.
"The EMT over there, helping the vic - that's Hank." She sighed, steeling herself for the meeting. "Well, can't do anything about it now. He won't bother me, he knows better."
Hank may not bother Sara, Grissom thought, but his presence was already galling the older man. Sara was right, though - there was nothing they could do about it now that they were here. "Ok. Well, um, let's start with perimeter. Take that side of the lot," he said, pointing to the side opposite to where Hank and the victim sat, "and I'll get this one." Sara nodded briskly and stepped out of the SUV, striding toward her end of the lot.
Grissom looked over his shoulder a few times, keeping a suspicious eye on the EMT, but he soon became absorbed in scouring the asphalt and forgot that there was anyone else within a mile of him.
"No." Sara's firm voice floated back to him and he looked up in confusion. He didn't like that he saw: Sara, just standing up from a crouch over an evidence marker, was frowning at Hank, who was holding a hand out to her.
Grissom carefully returned the camera he had been about to use to his side and began to walk toward the pair, who appeared to be deep in conversation. "Oh come on, Sara," Hank was saying in a wheedling voice, "it wasn't 'cheating.' No one ever said I was exclusive with you or Elaine!"
"Elaine did," Sara retorted. "Why are you telling me this, Hank? We already had this conversation. It's over."
"Sara," he said, almost whining, "I care about you. I don't want to lose you!"
Sara couldn't believe this. "You lost me a long time ago, Hank." She shook her head, disgusted. "I don't need or want you to care for me. I prefer to get my caring from people who are honest with me."
Hank's handsome face collapsed into a dark scowl. "Oh, I get it now. Sounds to me like I wasn't the only one cheating," he said nastily.
Grissom struggled to not bite out a retort to the man. Sara could handle this, he reminded himself.
"Don't try to drag me down to your level, Hank," Sara told him calmly. "I won't ever sink that low." She met Grissom's eyes over Hank's shoulder and smiled slightly. Hank, seeing this, spun around and fixed his bitter gaze on Grissom.
"So that's it," he hissed. "You sleep with the guy who can give you a promotion."
Sara's temper had lasted an impressively long time, but her patience was well and truly gone. "You jerk," she told him, trying not to shout. "You come running to try to get me back as soon as Elaine dumps your sorry ass, and you're calling me the slut?" She planted a hand on his chest and shoved him back. "Stay away from me," she ordered icily.
"Bitch," he snapped back.
"Enough!" Grissom announced firmly, stepping between them. "Sara, please get back to work." His eyes pleaded with her to stay calm and she nodded jerkily, turning away from the two men. "You," Grissom continued, turning to Hank, "will come speak to me. Now," he barked when the paramedic would have protested.
Hank scowled, but followed him to the edge of the lot. "Sit," Grissom told him. He didn't move. "I said SIT!" Trying to look nonchalant, Hank sat.
"In case you'd forgotten, you are here in a professional capacity," Grissom informed him. "You will not harass my CSIs. From what I understand, Sara does not want to see you again; you will respect that and you will respect her."
"Respect?" Hank laughed bitterly. "She's a bitch on wheels. Hates men." Caught up in his anger, he missed the hardening of Grissom's face.
"I said," Grissom ground out, taking a good grip on Hank's jacket and hauling him up, "that you will show Sara respect."
"You're threatening me."
"This is not a threat. It's an assurance. If you bother Sara again, she'll have charges slapped on you so fast it'll make your head spin. Then," he added, nodding grimly, "not only will you have a sexual harassment charge on your record, but you'll be out of a job. I will see to that, I promise you."
"Sexual harassment? Sara? Hah," Hank spat with a last show of bravado.
"Yes, sexual harassment. It's a serious charge, I suggest you not laugh it off." Grissom was thoroughly disgusted with this man. "Now," he said coolly, releasing his grip on Hank's jacket, "go take care of your patient. And I'll tell you one more time: stay away from Sara. Stay away from me. Stay away from any of my CSIs unless it's directly work-related." He turned and walked toward Sara, who was frozen half-bent over toward a piece of evidence, watching him with worried eyes.
"It's fine," he told her, taking her arm in a light grip. "He'll leave you alone from now on or he'll be hearing from me." Grissom smiled with bitter satisfaction at the thought.
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