Hideout

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Category: General/Romance
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, but I can dream, right?

Summary: After a tough case, Grissom and Sara happen to catch each other in the right mood. A... cough, cough DATE cough???

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Chapter 1

Greg handed Grissom the lab report and bowed dramatically, signifying once again that he had "brought home" the case.

Grissom shooed him out of his office with a curt, "Thank you, Greg."

Reading the report closely, Grissom was thrilled to see it indicated a 99.6 percent DNA match to their suspect. The first thing he had to do was find Sara. She had worked harder than anyone on this case. By all outward appearances, she hadn't eaten or slept in days, only glided around the lab in a work-induced stupor. Grissom immediately paged her to his office. After ten minutes, he paged her again. Ten minutes later, he decided to go looking for her. She was in the building somewhere.

He found Catherine examining hair samples in the lab. "Have you seen Sara?"

"No, not lately. I hope she's sleeping somewhere. That girl looked like death warmed over last time I saw her."

"Well she's going to be sleeping well tonight-we got a DNA match. He's already in custody. Once I find her and tell her, she's out of here."

Catherine offered him a slight smile. "Good luck."

He continued down the hall, popping his head into various offices and layout rooms. He found Nick in the computer lab studying some trajectory software. "Hey, have you seen Sara? I've paged her twice."

"I saw her an hour ago. I think she was headed to the basement."

Grissom nodded at first, and then wrinkled his eyebrows a little. "Why?"

Nick's eyes stayed focused on his monitor. "I don't know. She said something about slaying a green dragon. I wasn't really listening." Nick turned his head from his computer screen and wrinkled his face like Grissom. "That was a weird thing for her to say, huh?"

Grissom nodded again. Suddenly his eyes widened as he realized what Sara meant. "Is she in my hideout?"

Nick started to smile. "I don't know. I forgot about that place. Maybe."

"I thought Ecklie took it over for storage last summer," Grissom said, trying to remember.

Nick just shrugged. "Knowing Sara-that wouldn't stop her."

"I haven't been down there in years." Grissom was completely sidetracked and busy reminiscing in his mind. His ‘hideout' was a very small room, an oversized closet really, down in the basement. About ten years ago, Grissom put an old green leather couch in it, with a small end table and a low wattage lamp. He used it as a private escape for years-when certain cases pushed him to exhaustion. A couple years ago he mentioned it to Catherine. She told Warrick, and Warrick told Nick. Nick told Sara. It was this unspoken emergency place they all had-a place to go when they didn't want to leave the building, but needed a few minutes to rest. No one used it much, and he swore he remembered Ecklie bitching last summer about the waste of space and needing to store boxes in there.

Nick turned back to his work. "Well, she might be down there. Go check."

"Yeah." Grissom headed out the door, turning back with a, "Thanks Nick."

When he got to the basement, Grissom immediately headed to the famous ‘hideout'. He really couldn't remember the last time he was down here. He was tempted to knock, but deemed it unnecessary. She probably wasn't even in there. He expected to see a mountain of boxes, and that was indeed what he found. But the room was dimly lit. He pushed the door open further and looked behind it, toward the tiny light source. His expression relaxed immediately. Sure enough, the green leather couch was still there, shoved against the back corner with one sleeping Sara Sidle sprawled across it. He considered leaving her there to sleep, but he wanted to tell her the good news-release her to the comforts of her own bed.

He took a few steps in and let the door close behind him. There were so many boxes crammed into this tiny space, piled as high as his chest; he could barely fit between them. He inched his way toward her, and noticed immediately that he had nowhere else to stand but right in front of her on the couch. If she were to wake up on her own right now, he would likely scare the hell out of her, towering over her like this. He decided to take advantage of the moment anyway. He let his eyes travel over her body a moment, not voyeuristically, but out of genuine concern. He wondered when she had eaten last, or when she had last gotten a good night's sleep. He sighed quietly.

She shifted her legs in her slumber, causing his eyes to focus on them. She had taken her socks and shoes off. He noticed them on the floor next to her pager, obviously set to vibrate instead of beep. Looking back to her feet, he squinted a moment and noticed her toenails were painted a very classy maroon color. He always found something sexy about a woman wearing jeans with bare feet and painted toenails. Then again he always found Sara sexy, without ever noticing her toes. Sara shifted her legs again, running one foot along the other calf, inadvertently raising her pantleg a few inches. Grissom cocked an eyebrow and immediately looked at her face to see if she was awake. She was not. Okay, this was getting dangerous. He needed to wake her up. Enough ogling.

Of course, though he knew he needed to wake her up, he wasn't exactly sure how to do it. He considered just bumping the couch a little, but that seemed mean.

He could touch her leg. That idea got him looking at her legs again, lithe and slender, an exquisite blend of power and grace. No, he would not be touching those legs.

He considered touching her face-just briefly. He had always wanted to. Why not now? This was like a free, valid excuse. He reached out his hand and let his fingers brush her check. Her skin was so soft. Pulling his hand away, he noticed she did not wake up at all. He put his hand back to her cheek, this time letting his fingers cup her face and allowing his thumb to gently caress her. "Sara?" he whispered. God, he hoped she wouldn't smack him when she woke up.

She did not wake up. Instead, she moaned softly, swallowed and nuzzled his hand slightly. Grissom stifled the tiny laugh that the threatened to escape him. Okay, the face wasn't working, although he was certainly enjoying it. He couldn't continue to touch her like this with her sleeping. He started to feel guilty. He took his hand away from her face.

He decided he would just shake her arm gently. Still leaning over, he reached out to touch her upper arm, but just before he did, Sara rolled onto her back. While trying to avoid touching her chest, Grissom lost his balance and grabbed the back of the couch forcefully. Sara woke up with a start and screamed. Grissom's other hand immediately covered Sara's mouth. "Shhh! It's just me." He carefully sat down on the edge of the couch, wedging Sara between his hip and the back of the couch.

"Jesus! You scared the hell out of me!" she yelled, shoving him lightly and whacking him on the arm. She put her hand on her chest, instinctively protecting her pounding heart.

"I'm sorry." He laughed, despite of himself. She was so feisty. "I didn't mean to. I was trying to wake you up."

"Mission accomplished," she said, sitting up slightly and catching her breath.

"I'm sorry," he said again, touching her elbow gently. Sara immediately looked at his hand, then look directly at him, a questioning glint in her eyes.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, removing his hand.

That was the third time he had said that. "What do you want?" she asked pointedly.

"We caught him."

Sara's eyes immediately widened. Grissom continued explaining. "99.6 percent DNA match. Brass already has him in custody."

Sara flung herself back down on the couch, exhaled forcefully, and let her head hang back over the armrest. "Good." She draped her arm over her eyes and sighed again.

"You're officially off-duty. I don't want to see you here for at least two days," he lectured.

"Yeah, yeah," Sara muttered under her arm. "I'm leaving." She yawned a moment before adding, "I just need a minute to... decompress."

Grissom hated the level of fatigue at which she continuously functioned. It couldn't be good for her. He didn't move from his spot, leaving his arm draped along the back of the couch.

"Sara." His voice was soft and full of compassion. "I know I've told you this before, but... you need a diversion." Even though he softened the ‘supervisor' tone, he prepared himself for Sara's wrath.

She didn't respond right away. She scooted a fraction of an inch away from him before answering. "I tried to find a diversion," Sara replied calmly. She spoke up to make sure he heard the rest. "He said he didn't know what to do about this." She left her arm over her eyes, grateful not to see his response. She was certain he would just flee the scene immediately anyway.

Grissom stared at her face, what little of it he could see. He looked toward the door. No one was anywhere near them. He looked around at all the boxes and deemed this a safe place for their conversation. He took his arm off the back of the couch and rested it on his leg. He stared at his hands a moment before he eventually lowered his voice and responded.

"Maybe... you didn't give him enough time... to downshift."

She didn't move for a moment, and Grissom wondered if she heard him. Then she lifted her arm a few inches and looked at him, her surprise evident. "Really?"

He paused a moment, as if considering the weight of the situation. He dipped his eyes down to the couch and admitted his utter defeat to her with a nod and a hesitant, "Yeah."

Sara laid her arm across her stomach and stared at him. She couldn't stop the smirk from spreading across her face, her eyes shining with hope. "Has he had enough time now?"

"I don't know." Grissom shrugged and add seriously, "Maybe you should ask him again sometime."

Sara raised an eyebrow and as seriously as she could, responded, "Maybe he should take a flying leap!"

Grissom laughed, knowing he deserved that. Sara smiled slightly. She continued theatrically, "You know, I just finished a mentally exhausting case. I'm very emotional right now. If he said no... I... might have to body check him to the floor."

"Real-ly?" He asked with a coy grin.

Her frustrated growl turned into a low, rumbling laugh. If he only knew how she'd like to body check him.

She sat up on her elbows, but still reclined on the couch. "What are you saying?" she asked, demanding he clarify this flirtatious bit.

Grissom shrugged as his heart rate increased exponentially. He shook his head and muttered, "I'm sure I'm going to regret this, but... "

"Stop trying to sweet talk me," she interjected, bumping his back with her thigh.

Grissom almost looked like he was in pain. "Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?"

Sara sat there a moment, making him sweat out her answer. Finally she asked quietly, "Why?"

He wasn't expecting that question. "What do you mean why?"

After thinking a moment, Sara clarified, "I mean, what are your intentions exactly?"

Grissom just stared at her like she had two heads. "Are you kidding me?"

She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Nope. I don't want there to be any confusion. Is this a completely non-work related social engagement or do you have some cold case you're planning to spring on me over lasagna?"

He pursed his lips together, still tremendously uncomfortable talking about this. "No, no cold case. I just... " He looked at her and stopped talking, finishing with just a shrug.

"You just what?" Sara pressed, her smile growing.

He could not believe she was making him grovel. Deep down, though, he knew he deserved it. "I just... think it might be nice to... be alone with you... just to... see what happens," they finished in unison. Grissom rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling ten steps behind Sara.

"Me too," she agreed with a shy grin. Poor guy, so brilliant and yet so bad at expressing himself around a woman.

"Al-though," Sara hedged, moving her hand near his knee.

Grissom stiffened. "What?"

"We're alone now," she said with a distinct sultriness to her voice. She let the back of her hand barely graze his bent leg.

"Sara." He watched her hand. "We're at work," he added gravely, looking her in the eye.

"Technically work's upstairs," Sara replied. She sat up slowly and let her face come dangerously close to his.

Grissom stood up abruptly. Before Sara could say anything, his finger was in front of her face. "Don't push it Sidle. I'm having a hard enough time wrapping my head around this." Though clearly annoyed, his face held a playful expression-he was almost smiling. Sara opened her mouth and leaned over to bite his finger, but he pulled it away at the last second.

"All right. All right," she sighed, putting her socks and shoes on quickly. When she had finished, Grissom surprised her by offering her his hand. She let him pull her up in front of him, and missed his touch as soon as he released her hand. As she headed toward the door, she bumped against him between the boxes, causing him to shoot her a very displeased look. "Relax. I'm backing off," she said, her palms raised in front of him. She slithered between his body and a pile of boxes, letting herself brush against him a moment. She laughed nervously. "Kind of cramped in here, isn't it?"

He did not find her funny in the least. He put his hands on her upper arms and turned her around in front of him. He pushed her gently toward the door. As they reached it, he leaned his face near hers and said quietly, "Just because you know I'm interested does not give you permission to tease me at work."

Sara rolled her eyes and stopped walking. "I've been teasing you at work for years." She turned her face and was surprised to find him standing so close behind her. "Took you long enough to notice," she huffed jokingly.

Grissom reached for the door handle, letting his arm cross in front of her. "I always noticed." As he opened it, he let his face touch hers briefly. Against his better judgement, he kissed her cheek once before brushing past her hurriedly into the hall.

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