Spoilers: Up to season 4
Archive: Please ask first I might say yes.
Disclaimer: C.S.I. not owned by me. No infringement intended, blah blah etc.
Author's Note: Obviously I should have been clearer in my last warning. Subject matter includes the word 'Sara' and 'baby' in the same sentence. If this is likely to offend, please leave now.
Thank you all for taking the time to review, it is very much appreciated. With regards to other messages, I'd like to thank Marlou, LK, Niff and Mandy for their nag - er... encouragement, and I'd particularly like to thank Xraygirl. She knows why.
Summary: Sara acts, Grissom reacts.
Grissom woke with a start, completely disorientated for a moment. It took him several seconds to realise where he was and whom he was with.
An additional few seconds were required for him to believe what his brain was telling him.
About one hundred and twenty seconds to be exact. Not that he was in any fit state to count them, because he was too busy being distracted by the knowledge that it was indeed Sara who was plastered up against his right side, her right arm draped possessively across his chest.
In a moment of sheer panic Grissom quickly looked down at himself and was relieved to discover that he was still fully clothed.
As was Sara.
At least she appeared to be, he amended mentally as he looked over what he could see of her.
Bits and pieces of the journey to this moment in time were filtering through his consciousness. He remembered sitting on the bed for a moment.
Hell, he'd had no intention of falling asleep. He had been exhausted, but that was no excuse.
It had started with the call he had received from Sara.
An obviously drunk Sara.
After a brief conversation that Grissom was still having trouble thinking about - his mind kept shying away from it like an untried filly at her first fence - he had listened with horror to the crashing sound of something - possibly glass - breaking, followed by a deathly silence. He had not been able to get Sara back on the phone. When he hung up and redialled he just got the busy signal.
Seriously alarmed now and concerned that Sara may have hurt herself, he had grabbed his keys and left his townhouse to drive over to her apartment.
Sara did not respond to the doorbell or to him banging on the door.
Reining in his panic, Grissom looked around for a likely place that Sara might have hidden a spare front door key. Not expecting it to be anywhere obvious, he nevertheless checked under the mat and along the top of the doorframe.
There was no key.
Wiping his now dusty hand on his pants leg, he looked around for ideas.
The small square flower tub beside the front door had a collection of cacti surrounded by gravel. There were a variety of sizes and types, from the taller spine covered ones to the small smooth ones that looked like pebbles. It was an ideal mini garden for Vegas, not requiring much watering.
Grissom knelt on one knee beside the tub and pushed his fingers into the gravel, feeling for a key.
As he smoothed back the gravel he accidentally knocked one of the cacti that looked like a pebble.
It sounded like plastic.
He picked it up and turned it over. It had a small compartment in its underside.
"Well, I'll be damned."
He prised the rubber seal off the opening and shook out a door key.
Grissom stood up and quickly opened the front door. He stepped over the threshold and listened for a moment. There was no sound.
"Sara? Sara! Are you okay?"
He closed the door behind him and looked around the room. He could see broken glass, dried flowers, and coloured glass beads on the floor this side of the couch. That had obviously been the crash that he had heard.
As Grissom stepped closer he was relieved to see no blood among the wreckage of the flower display.
He opened his mouth to call Sara again when he heard the sound of movement on the couch. He moved closer, carefully avoiding the broken glass.
Grissom looked over the back of the couch. To his profound relief it was Sara, apparently unharmed and merely asleep.
He stepped around to the front of the couch and crouched down to look at her more closely. A strand of hair across her face fluttered as she exhaled.
Grissom shook his head, his lips twitching with amusement now that he knew that she was okay.
"Sara, Sara, look at you." He muttered under his breath.
He looked around until he found the telephone and put it back on its rest.
Grissom stood up and looked around the room for the first time. He noted the wine bottle and single glass. Obviously 'things' were not going as well as they should.
He ignored the twinge of guilt.
He headed for the room that he assumed was Sara's bedroom.
It was quite spartan; a double bed, two night tables, a built in wardrobe. The bookcase came as no surprise although some of the books did.
It was mentally filed away for later consideration.
He turned back the lightweight quilt on the bed, noticing that Sara slept on the left of the bed, judging by the contents of the night tables.
Grissom went back to the main room and took off his jacket, placing it carefully on the back of the couch.
He turned to Sara's sleeping form.
"Right Ms Sidle, you stay asleep."
He very gently slid his left arm under Sara's shoulders until his hand was under her left shoulder blade.
Sara stirred slightly, but remained asleep.
He slid his other arm under her knees. Once he was in position, Grissom lifted with his knees, not his back.
He grunted under Sara's dead weight, as he stood upright.
Grissom adjusted his hold on her and then moved towards her bedroom.
He had a nasty but wonderful moment when Sara turned and nuzzled into his neck, putting her left arm over his right shoulder.
"Mmm... you're here..." she mumbled.
He kept moving, the sweat popping out on his forehead as he contemplated her reaction if she woke up and found him here now.
Sara sighed heavily and then breathed in just as gustily. Grissom felt the brush of air against his neck.
It took Grissom a moment to figure out what Sara had muttered into his neck and he nearly dropped her when he felt the unmistakable swipe of her tongue and the nip of her teeth on his neck.
He moved to Sara's side of the double bed and placed her down gently. She obligingly turned on her left side and snuggled into the pillow. She still appeared to be fast asleep.
Grissom covered her with the quilt and stepped back, breathing a sigh of relief. He touched his fingers to the damp skin on his neck almost as if to prove that it had really happened. Incredible.
He turned and left the bedroom, heading for the kitchenette. After a short search he found the dustpan and brush and making as little noise as possible he cleared up the broken glass, flowers and glass beads. He left them in the pan for Sara to sort later. He didn't want her to wander out of the bedroom in the middle of the night and cut her feet on the glass.
He was also worried about leaving Sara in case she was sick. He decided to wait for a little while, just to make sure that she was all right.
Grissom returned to the bedroom. He looked around the room again and noted with dismay that there was no chair. He didn't recall seeing any dining chairs in the main room either.
He wasn't going to sit on the floor or stand for ages so there was only one option left.
He left the bedroom again and secured the front door. He turned off all but one of the lamps in the living room and made his way back to the bedroom.
Grissom stood watching Sara sleep for a few moments, telling himself that he was just checking that she was okay.
She looked more relaxed than she had done for a while now.
Grissom walked around to the other side of the bed and gingerly sat down on the edge. He waited to see if Sara stirred. When she didn't, he eased off his loafers and slowly moved first one leg then the other up on to the bed.
Still she didn't move.
He leaned back against the bed head and placed his hands on his stomach.
It took several minutes, but eventually he relaxed. He listened carefully to the tone and rate of Sara's breathing, relieved that it was even and regular. He was less worried now about her choking in the night.
He could just make out Sara's face in the darkened room.
Grissom's lips twisted in wry humour.
Sara was sleeping with him.
It may or may not have been a dream come true for her, but he had to admit to himself that being with her, here on this bed, had certainly been one of his private fantasies. It would probably continue to be so, now that he had more information.
It really was a very comfortable bed.
It was very dark in the room with the drapes closed and there was not much to look at in the bedroom apart from Sara herself and Grissom figured that he shouldn't go there.
He blinked a couple of times and rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. Now that he had relaxed he was aware of just how tired he was. His eyes had that gritty feeling that comes with a lack of sleep.
He didn't think that it would hurt to close his eyes for just a moment.
Within minutes he too was fast asleep.
And now here he was.
Grissom rubbed his left hand over his face to try to wake himself up a little more. He could tell from the slightly paler grey square of light behind the drapes that it must be early morning but his glasses were in his jacket on the couch and in this light he couldn't read his watch anyway.
It felt like four or five am. but he couldn't be certain.
He could not allow himself the luxury of dwelling on the fact that Sara was lying as if glued to his side.
But he did attempt - if only for a minute - to memorise what it looked and felt like.
Heaven in a heartbeat.
Grissom knew that he had to get out of there before Sara woke up.
As soon as he started to slid away from Sara's warm body her arm tightened warningly as if trying to prevent his efforts to leave. She rubbed her cheek against the soft material of his polo shirt and settled with a sigh.
Grissom had aged about five years.
It took a couple of minutes to get his heart rate back down to acceptable limits.
He supposed that it could have been worse. Her arm could have been across his hips.
He should have known better than to even think it. The fates were in a fine mood to indulge him.
Grissom lay frozen with fascinated horror as Sara's arm moved slowly down his chest, ending up with her right hand resting on the fly of his jeans.
A quick glance confirmed - thankfully - that Sara was still asleep.
It was now even more imperative that he leave - and soon, before he became...
Crap. Too late.
He was completely powerless to stop himself from hardening under Sara's hand. The same hand that was now rubbing him through the thick material of his jeans.
He tried to think of something else, but nothing came to mind. He was totally focused on that small hand and the devastation that it was causing.
Grissom could not remember the last time that he had felt this conflicted. Part of him - logical calm scientist supervisor - knew that he had to get out of there as soon as possible, preferably without getting caught. Another part - pretty much the rest of him - desperately wanted to stay and see where this went. His hips lifted involuntarily to press himself against Sara's hand.
God, what exquisite agony.
He didn't know where he summoned the reserves from, but he made himself slide his torso away from the warm body beside him. Sara mewed in protest in her sleep and her hand tightened on him, causing sweat to pop out all over him in his effort not to groan aloud. He managed to pull a pillow from behind him and place it between her head and his chest.
Grissom paused to let Sara settle again. She now rested on the pillow instead of his chest.
But she still had hold of him.
He dropped his left leg to the floor and used his right arm to lever himself upright. He used his left hand to gently take hold of Sara's right wrist and lift the hand off him.
Once free of Sara - God would he ever be free? - he quickly slid his right leg down to the floor, and placed her hand down on the quilt he had just vacated.
All that remained resting on the bed was his right arm, and this he removed as he stood - remembering at the last minute to collect his loafers - and backed away.
He paused in the bedroom doorway and took a last look at Sara.
And thankfully still asleep.
Grissom walked stiffly across the main living room, adjusting the front of his jeans in an attempt to make himself more comfortable.
After he slipped on his shoes he collected his jacket from the back of the couch. He looked around the room to check that he hadn't left anything behind, then picked up the spare door key and the plastic 'cactus'.
With a last glance around the room, he opened the front door and let himself out. He locked the front door from the outside and returned the key to its hiding place.
Once inside his Denali he took a few moments to calm himself before he started the engine to drive home. He felt like he had just run a marathon.
With a massive erection.
One which didn't subside until he was nearly back at his place.
Grissom hoped to heaven that Sara wouldn't remember a thing.
He was sure that he'd never forget.
When Sara finally surfaced she too felt disorientated. She had no memory of going to bed. She lifted the quilt and frowned briefly at her clothes, but the light in the room was too bright and pain exploded behind her eyes.
She groaned aloud and put her arm over her face.
She'd been sober enough to put herself to bed but drunk enough to forget to remove her clothes?
Jeez, her mouth felt and tasted horrible.
Sara promised herself to remember to have something to eat before she drank in future.
If she ever drank again.
The reason that she had been drinking crashed uninvited into her mind.
She moaned in remembered misery. Last optimum day for this month.
Her eyes flew open a second later as another memory popped up.
'Please God tell me that I didn't call Grissom!'
No reassurance was forthcoming.
Her heart raced and her mouth dried with fear.
No, she couldn't have, could she?
Her still sluggish brain searched for clues and seized upon a thought in desperation.
She'd dreamt it. She must have done.
Yeah, that was it, a dream she reassured herself.
Yeah, she'd been far too wasted to call Grissom.
She started to rub her face with her hands, only to pause and sniff.
Why did the smell on her hands remind her of Grissom?
Fragments from last night filtered into her head like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. Impossible visions.
These had to have been from her dreams; she'd had the same ones often enough.
Lying in Grissom's arms, her head resting on his chest.
She'd had that dream often, but never with the intensity of last nights. Never before had she been able to remember what it felt like to lie against his warmth, to hold him to her. To run her hand over him and feel him respond to her caresses.
It had seemed so real.
She sniffed her hands again and felt the same tug that she always got from being in Grissom's vicinity. As if she had her heart - and places further south - squeezed by lust.
Sara recalled picking up his labcoat yesterday - it had fallen on the floor when Grissom had not hung it up properly when he'd left in a hurry.
That must be it.
Her fuzzy brain didn't remind her that she would have washed her hands several times since then.
A pressing need for the bathroom eventually drove Sara out of bed. After she had finished up and showered she felt a little more human.
She had coffee percolating within a few minutes and soon the delicious aroma was permeating throughout the apartment. She couldn't face food just yet.
It was while she was waiting for the coffee that she noticed the dustpan sitting on the drainer. She tipped it up to look at the contents.
Another flash of memory. Accidentally knocking over her flower display. Just before things got hazy.
She sure was a tidy drunk.
What the hell had happened last night?
Grissom finished the washing the last of his breakfast things and left them to drain for a while. He wiped his hands and ran through his mental 'to do' list for today.
He didn't get very far.
Thoughts of Sara kept intruding. While he was used to her being a constant in his background thoughts it was difficult today to concentrate on anything else.
This was one of the reasons Grissom thought that a relationship between the two of them would be impossible. Both of them were focused - one might even say intense - people who gave one hundred and ten percent to nearly everything that they did. He was concerned that the relationship part of their lives would over run every other part. Perhaps even to start interfering with work, which he wouldn't tolerate. It didn't matter that he would not allow it to interfere with the working environment, because even the perception of interference or bias would be damaging.
It wasn't even that he was worried for himself. He could go freelance and become a consultant, called in by laboratories when his expertise was required. Or possibly go into teaching. No, he was far more worried about Sara's career. He would be damned either way. He could be accused both of promoting her unfairly or holding her back unfairly. Either way the loser would be Sara.
Grissom had acted in as fair a manner as possible when he had recommended Nicky for the recent promotion. The young man had matured considerably over the last couple of years and become more experienced, learning through his mistakes and his successes. Nick's approach was quite different to his own, but similarly successful. As he had pointed out, he didn't want a Grissom clone in his lab. Sara had a very impressive solve rate, one of the best. But she had issues with certain cases, particularly those involving abuse of women and that concerned him. In his honest opinion, she wasn't ready yet. She would be one day, of that he had no doubt.
Grissom poured another cup of coffee for himself and took it over to the couch. He sat down and picked up his newspaper, folding it to the crossword puzzle page.
He would concentrate on this for now and think about that telephone conversation later. But certainly before he went to work tonight. And saw Sara.
Five minutes later he read the clue for sixteen across. Fecundate. Ten letters. Beginning with I. Mmm. Oh, yeah. Easy.
Grissom started to fill in the clue automatically then actually looked at the word.
He put the crossword down and picked up his coffee. It was obvious that he would have to deal with Sara's dilemma first.
And that phone call. Just what the hell had been going on?
There was a slightly guarded quality to Grissom's voice, but Sara was unnaturally thrilled to have got through to the object of her affections on her first attempt and didn't notice.
"Hey, Gris! Howya doin' gorgeous?"
Sara didn't wait for a reply, gleefully flying on ahead at warp speed.
"I gotta tell ya, you're a cool guy."
There was a moment of incredulous silence at Grissom's end.
"Sara, have you been drinking?"
She completely failed to take in the surprised and faintly censorious tone of Grissom's reply.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, a little, s'okay. N'listen, home truths, right? One, s'okay 'bout me an' Nicky, the promo thing. Sorted. Two, d'y'know that you have really really nice eyes, dead sexy an' I love 'em. Three, er... wass three? Ooh, yeah, you kin tape me up any damn time you please. Four, thez s'no one in 'Frisco, iz'me. But you knew that din'cha? Lassly, five, an' iza biggie. I wan' YOU blue eyes, to be my donor. I need your little swimmer guys. Whaddya think?"
"You want WHAT?!"
Grissom's shocked astonishment was plain to hear, as was the crash of Sara's flower display hitting the floor.
Sara had bumped into it as she danced, phone in hand, around her couch listening to music that only she could hear.
Leaning over the couch to look at the damage had made her head spin and she let go of the phone to clasp her hands to her head. She flopped down on the couch in an effort to stop the room spinning. She forgot about Grissom and the phone, having passed out cold.
Grissom still felt the residual shock that had robbed him of the power to stand up.
Sara wanted him to be her sperm donor. To supply 'the little swimmer guys'.
Grissom was not sure yet how he felt about her request, if it could be called that.
It had taken hours just to be able to confront the conversation in his head, let alone the idea of actually discussing it with Sara.
His first reaction - okay, and his second and third - was a firm 'no'.
He felt confronted by something that he was not ready for. Something he suspected he'd never be ready for.
Grissom wondered how women made this momentous decision. Years ago no one had any real choice about procreation, it was a question of yielding to the almost inevitable. But now, the advent of reliable contraception meant that an active decision to conceive had to be made.
It was one hell of a leap into the dark.
People were given more help and advice buying a house or a car than they were in starting a family.
He had felt no biological imperative. No yearning to replace himself in the big scheme of things.
Until he met Sara.
Even then, he had not thought 'I'd love to have a family with that woman' he had just mused in passing that if he were to allow himself to become involved with her, she was young enough that a child or children might be a consideration for her.
Then he had left 'Frisco, left Sara behind - or ran away - leaving her to have a life of her own.
In the wake of the explosion in the lab. Grissom had given more thought to the past. Sara had upped and left 'Frisco and come to Vegas just on the strength of one phone call from him. He had used her shamelessly and hadn't even realised it. He had never considered her motivation in coming to Vegas.
Or hadn't allowed himself to realise or consider it.
Grissom had had nightmares since the explosion. Terrible nightmares where Sara had been killed in a variety of awful scenarios. Repeatedly dying in front of his eyes while he was powerless to stop it. He had had his most recent one the day that she came to his townhouse to ask his advice for her 'friend'.
He had woken up full of regret that he had not taken the opportunity to find out 'what to do about this'.
Then in the cold light of day just as he had convinced himself that he should leave well alone, she had appeared on his doorstep.
Grissom sighed heavily, picked up his coffee and noted with surprise that he had finished his drink without being aware of it. Disappointed, he put the mug back down.
He leaned back, stretching his neck to ease a small ache building there.
There were other considerations to this potential arrangement. At the forefront of his mind was his otosclerosis. It was an inherited disorder. There was a definite risk that any child of his would develop the trait. He wondered if Sara had thought of that before she had asked him. Probably. She usually considered all the angles very thoroughly.
Unable to sit still with his thoughts, Grissom got up and poured himself another cup of coffee, just for something to do.
Right now he could understand Sara's need to have been drunk for that phone call.
A smile reluctantly tugged at his Grissom's lips. He thought that he would probably have needed to be drunk to ask such a question about his 'little swimmer guys'.
If it weren't so serious a matter for Sara he would almost have been relishing the prospect of seeing her tonight and watching her squirm.
Grissom suspected that she wouldn't be the only one squirming.
He sighed heavily as he sipped his coffee.
Another thought crossed his mind. What about the legal ramifications if Sara were successful?
Would she expect child support payments?
Would the child be told who his father was?
Would Sara let his mom meet her only grandchild?
He'd have to alter his will, making a new provision for the baby. A far as he knew he had no other children. Grissom had always assumed contraceptive responsibility himself even if he had been assured of his partner's use of protection. It was only common sense. He didn't like to leave things to chance.
He was getting ahead of himself. There was no baby. Again he fervently hoped that that Sara had forgotten last night in its entirety. That would, of course, mean that he did not 'officially' know that there was no 'friend in 'Frisco' and that Sara was the person in question. He would have to tread very carefully until he had some clue about what she remembered.
Grissom decided to suggest - as tactfully as he was able - that perhaps Sara should try further counselling before she tried to put any 'baby' plans in action.
He still had not made up his mind whether or not to help Sara. Certainly at the moment his instinct was to say no, despite the distress it would undoubtedly cause her.
Grissom rubbed his forehead.
He had a headache.
It was with a certain amount of trepidation that Grissom went to work.
He would not call it nervousness, not exactly.
Grissom just put his best foot forward - quickly - until he had reached the sanctuary of his office.
Ten minutes later he was immersed in paperwork, sorting the night's caseload and organising the assignments.
Sara he partnered with Warrick on a case that he could just have easily joined himself. It would have been a coin toss anyway. He thought he'd give Warrick a break from tutoring Greg and give Catherine a chance to give the young man another perspective on the work. Nicky was still working on his runaway from two days ago.
If it coincidentally meant that he got to stay in his office and do paperwork, well, that's life.
Or privileges of rank.
Sara pulled in to the parking space a couple of spaces down from Grissom's Denali. She pulled on the parking brake then switched off the ignition and the lights. She didn't immediately get out of the vehicle and wondered at her propensity for sitting in the car just lately.
She felt strangely reluctant to go in to work. It was as if there was something monumental that she had forgotten to do. The last time she had felt like this she thought that she had left her bath running when she went grocery shopping. She hadn't been able to relax until she got home.
Sara huffed in irritation. The last of her headache twinged in warning and she made an effort to relax. She rolled her head right and left to loosen her neck.
She just wished that she could remember more of last night. It tied up somehow. Bits and pieces of memory had come back to her, but others remained elusive. She recalled knocking over her display but not clearing it up. Falling on the couch but not getting into bed. The nagging suspicion that she had called Grissom on the phone - no, she wasn't even going to go there.
No more alcohol for her.
Sara was not even going to think about the vivid dreams about Grissom.
Licking and biting his neck. Unabashed groping of his... his... and he was big. Huge.
Damn, now she was blushing.
Right before she had to go into work and face him.
Sara had never been a person to avoid confrontation or shirk her responsibilities so she got out of the car, locked it, and turned towards the C.S.I. building. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders.
She could do this.
Best foot forward.
Sara glanced at her watch as she was walking and noted without conscious thought that she was only half an hour early for work. It didn't matter, not just this once.
It took her less than two minutes to get to the Ladies toilets on the upper floor.
She wasn't hiding. She didn't have anything to hide from.
As far as she could remember.
She was just checking that she looked presentable.
Sara groaned under her breath as she turned and left the Ladies for the break room.
When she got to the room she was the first to arrive. As usual there was no coffee left in the filter jug, so she washed it out and put on some fresh.
While she was waiting for the coffee she had a look through the magazines to see if there were any new ones that she had not read.
Sara was in luck, someone from days had obviously had a clear out. She found a thick 'chick' magazine that had 'IVF your questions answered' plastered across the front page. She sat down to read, quickly becoming immersed in the article.
Sara managed not to leap off the chair in surprise at the sound of Greg's voice right in her ear. She gave him a look that had reduced grown men to tears in the past.
It slid off Greg like water off a duck's back. He sat down beside her and grinned, practically nose to nose with Sara as he tried to see what she was reading.
Sara moved the magazine so that he couldn't read it.
"Nothing, go find your own mag."
Greg raised his eyebrows in one of the looks he regarded as 'lascivious'.
"Neat trick, reading nothing. Is it the '10 top positions for orgasmania' article?"
He was rewarded with another glare from Sara.
"'My husband left me for a man'?"
"'Top five recommended laxatives for the anorexic wannabe'?"
Sara snapped the magazine shut to look at the headlines.
Greg's insufferable smirk grew bigger as Sara smacked him with the magazine. Any touch from Sara was a good one in his books.
"Now children, play nice."
Warrick sauntered over to the newly brewed pot of coffee and poured both himself and Sara a cup.
He handed Sara hers on his way back to his chair and nodded in acknowledgement when she said 'thanks'.
"How did you know I hadn't had any yet?"
Warrick just looked at her, raising his eyebrows.
Sara half-grinned in rueful amusement. He had a point.
She was still smiling at Warrick's observation when Catherine and Grissom entered the break room. The playful atmosphere vanished and everyone took a seat around the large table.
Had Sara been looking at Grissom she would have been gratified to see the fleeting expression of annoyance that had graced his face upon finding Greg almost on Sara's lap.
Grissom seated himself at the head of the table with his customary lack of fanfare and started the handing out of assignments.
Sara could not make eye contact with him. She was too close to the memory of her dream and she was worried that Grissom would see it in her eyes.
She had to appear to be paying attention, so she looked in his direction. She looked at his hands.
They were big capable hands that looked as if they ought to be clumsy, yet Sara had seen them perform the delicate pinwork required for his bug timelines. Blunt fingers ending in clean short fingernails. Generous hands that could pick up a girl and carry her off to bed with -"
Sara brought herself up abruptly.
Where the hell had that image come from?
She had pictured the scene in her head with startling clarity.
Grissom - carrying her in his arms.
Sara forced herself to concentrate on the assignments. It wasn't easy.
Her brain sideslipped again and she was lying on her own bed in Grissom's arms.
He was speaking to her.
"Sara. Sara? Sara!"
Crap. Grissom WAS speaking to her. The real one. Dream Grissom had not been annoyed. Sara jumped guiltily.
"Yeah? I mean, yes?"
Grissom looked almost as irritated as he sounded.
"I said," he started in that 'oh so patient but my teeth are gritted' tone, "that you are with Warrick on this one."
Sara looked at Warrick and beamed. She sincerely hoped that he had some idea of what their case was, because she didn't have a clue.
Warrick looked at her oddly, but said nothing.
Grissom stood, which the rest of the staff took as a dismissal.
"Okay, that's it."
He waited a heartbeat while chairs were scraped back.
"Sara, I want to see you in my office when you and Warrick get back to base."
Sara was the focus of every eye in the room and felt it acutely.
Everyone else filed out of the room quickly, hoping to avoid any potential scene.
It was almost funny.
Sara caught up with Grissom in the corridor near Brass' office.
Grissom turned and acknowledged her call, but didn't stop walking.
Sara walked beside him in the direction of his office.
She shook her head.
"No, I just wondered what you wanted to see me about?"
Grissom's pace faltered momentarily but quickly resumed. He kept his eyes forward.
"Not here. It can wait until you get back."
Sara stopped walking abruptly while Grissom carried on. He realised that she was no longer with him and turned back to see Sara standing in the corridor, looking almost stricken.
He did little to reassure her that she wasn't in any trouble.
"So go. Warrick's waiting and the other stuff can wait."
Sara didn't say anything, just nodded once, and turned to leave. When she glanced back Grissom had gone.
'Not here.' he had said. That must mean personal or private. Or both.
How was she supposed to concentrate now?
Warrick glanced again at Sara's profile then quickly had his eyes back on the road.
This time she looked at him.
Warrick waited for more elaboration but none was forthcoming. He took an educated guess.
"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Gil probably just wants to remind you not to visit La La Land during the briefing."
Sara grinned despite her discomfort.
"Sorry, was I that obviously out of it?"
Warrick omitted to mention that she had also been eyeing Grissom as if he was the first piece of pizza after a three day fast. The girl had it bad.
"Well, now that we both know I wasn't paying attention, perhaps you like to fill me in on where we're going?"
Warrick smiled, his eyes crinkling.
"I guess I could."
It was a busy night and both Warrick and Sara were sent straight to further crime scenes after their first. By the time they had got back to the lab and processed the samples and paperwork, there was only half an hour of shift left.
Sara went to Grissom's office in the vain hope that he had been called away himself, but he was there at his desk.
"You wanted to see me?"
Grissom peered up over his glasses and nodded.
"Yes. Come on in and close the door."
Uh oh. Closed door equals bad.
Sara did as she was bid, then seated herself in one of the chairs in front of Grissom's desk. Regardless of why she thought that she was here, she decided to employ one of Grissom's own tactics.
She'd keep quiet until he told her why she was there.
"Relax Sara, you're not in trouble."
Sara didn't actually sag with relief, but she was tempted.
Grissom was tired of the messing around. He couldn't stand the suspense of not knowing what she had decided. He was almost as distracted as she was.
"Well, that's not strictly true. You were not paying attention during the briefing this evening and that's not like you. You cannot afford to be distracted in this job, you may miss something vital."
Grissom paused to let that sink in, then continued.
"You are allowing your private life to intrude in your professional life."
Sara's head came up sharply and she met his gaze for the first time in a while.
"What do you mean?"
"Are you worrying about your 'friend' in 'Frisco?"
Sara's lower lip wobbled slightly and she briefly touched her fingers to the lip to stop its tremble.
"Ah, no as a matter of fact she's decided that she's not going to go through with the IVF. She... er... she can't get hold of a suitable donor."
Grissom understood now why Sara was so distracted.
"I'm very sorry that it didn't work out for you..."
Grissom's voice was surprisingly gentle.
Sara stared at him with dismay. She knew that he would have put two and two together. She just didn't think that he would actually say it out aloud.
She did not say anything, but Grissom could see the truth of it in her face.
"... however, getting drunk on your day off is not the solution."
"No, I know, it was a one off - "
Sara broke off when the significance of what he had just said filtered through.
"How the hell did you know that I'd been drinking?"
Grissom now looked discomforted at the unexpected turn of the conversation. He was tired but that was no excuse, he should have seen this coming.
"How did you know, Grissom?"
Sara was horrified to realise that she knew what he was going to say.
"You rang me."
Oh God. It hadn't been a dream.
Sara's hands flew to cover her face. This was the single most awful moment in her life and it just HAD to be in front of Grissom.
Grissom looked at his desk top to try to spare Sara's blushes. He hoped to God that she would let this drop, and not ask him -
"What did I say?"
Sara's voice was muffled behind her hands.
Grissom cleared his throat nervously and Sara knew that it had to have been bad.
"I don't think that it's relevant. You were drunk, and under those conditions people say and do things..."
He realised belatedly that he was digging a hole for himself and stopped.
"... Like I said, not relevant. Forget it."
Sara had parted her fingers just enough to see through them and could see that Grissom was uncomfortable.
Her brain was working furiously to try to remember anything that she may have said to Grissom. The randomly firing synapses seized upon another concept.
If the phone call was no dream, what about her other dreams?
Sara sat bolt upright as her horrified whisper escaped.
"You cleared up the broken glass! It was you! You were in my apartment! You pu - "
She couldn't say the words 'put me to bed'.
Grissom didn't need to say anything, the guilt was written all over him.
Sara had been wrong earlier. THIS was the most awful moment of her life.
She leapt out of the chair and paced round the office in agitation, almost as if she were trying to outrun her embarrassment.
It wasn't working.
She had plastered herself all over him. Had her hand on his - no! Don't even think it.
'Dick' her brain supplied defiantly, adding 'Cock' and 'Boner' for good measure.
Grissom had been aroused.
That's why he had looked so guilty. Not because he had been in her apartment.
Sara had suddenly stopped her pacing around his office and Grissom was momentarily relieved until she spoke.
"Either you tell me what I said, or I'll tell everyone that you were in my apartment all night."
Grissom calmly stood up and leaned both fists on his desk.
"That is blackmail. And untrue, by the way."
Sara shrugged with a casualness that was false.
"Don't matter what's true."
Grissom knew that Sara was single minded but this was the first time she had demonstrated such ruthlessness.
"Fine, if it's that important to you. You were almost incoherent, mumbling about home truths and you and Nick being okay about the promotion."
Grissom looked down at his desk as he replied.
"You admitted... Look, do you really need to know? Why can't you just let it go?"
"I can't stand not knowing. You know something that I don't that is personal to me. I just need to know."
Grissom sighed heavily in defeat.
"You admitted that there was no friend in San Francisco and that it was you that only had a year left in which to get pregnant."
Grissom watched Sara go white and reach down for the chair behind her. She sat down and looked up at him.
"You aren't surprised. You knew before today, didn't you?"
"I had my suspicions the day you told me. I couldn't say it before, but I am truly sorry."
Sara waved her hand tiredly in a 'that's okay and thanks' thing.
She felt completely drained. Grissom had been right, she should have left it alone. She looked at him as she got up to leave.
"Well, my nightmare here could only have been topped by my propositioning you to be a donor, so I'll quit while I'm a - "
Sara's humiliation was complete as soon as she saw Grissom's blush. She practically ran for the office door.
Grissom put a hand out as if to stop her even though he was too far away from her.
She halted at the tone in his voice, her back to him.
"Don't you want to know what my decision was?"
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