Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Category: General/Romance
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be great if disclaimers worked in other parts of our lives? That messy kitchen? Not mine. Those screaming kids? Definitely not mine. Well, a girl can dream. By the way,
these characters? Not mine.
Author's Note: Thanks Marlou for the beta work. Thanks Ann for coddling me while I bitched about this fic. You're the best.
Summary: I've hit rock bottom. Not only is this utter fluff, but I even went cliché. Yep, trapped them in the evidence vault. sigh Forgive me... I think I just needed something to tide
me over till season 5 starts. G/S.
"I'll help you carry it," Sara said, having no idea how those six words would change the course of her evening.
She followed Grissom into the evidence vault, both of them intent on bringing the boxes from the Matheson/Hedicke case back to the layout room for review. The trial was in two days, and the
prosecution needed them both to testify.
He slid the ladder along the highly packed wall to the approximate location, and then began his ascent. As he reached the right shelf, the bright fluorescent overhead lights flickered, dimmed and
then came back up just as quickly. Grissom and Sara looked at each other.
"Cavallo pay the power bill this month?" Sara quipped.
"Right after he paid himself, I'm sure," he answered, looking for the correct case label. "Here we go, Matheson/Hedicke." He reached for the first box, and that was it. The lights went out
completely, leaving them in utter darkness. They heard a whirring sound, probably the air conditioners, slowing into silence.
"What the..?" Sara reached out and made contact with Grissom's leg. "Don't fall."
"I'm fine," his calm voice replied, "But I'm not bringing this down till they come back on."
So, they stood there.
Sara moved her hand to the edge of the ladder while they waited. A couple minutes passed. "What's going on?" she asked irritably.
"I don't know. Let's see if it's out in the whole lab."
She took one step away and then blurted, "I can't see anything! You got a flashlight on you?"
"No." He slowly came down the ladder. "Maybe the LCD on my phone will help." He turned it on and a blue glow emanated from the direction of his palm. He pointed it at her and reached for her arm.
"Come on," he said sweetly, assuming she didn't want to be left standing there alone in the dark.
They made their way to the door, and Sara tried the handle. "Ugh, the lock won't release-"
"If the power's out," they finished in unison, knowing the keycard lock would automatically shut down. Each gave a frustrated sigh.
"Well, I'm sure it won't last long," Grissom soothed. Then they stood there, staring at each other. He couldn't see much, but he could definitely sense her uneasiness. And then his cell phone
automatically shut off, leaving them in blackness again. Sara instinctively moved closer to him.
He didn't know what to do. Should they keep standing there at the door? Should he touch her? Why did he instinctively want to touch her?
"Well," she sighed, interrupting his thoughts. "This is a giant waste of time. I really wanted to go over that evidence!"
"It'll be back on in a second." Another minute passed in silence. "Maybe this is God's way of making us take a break," he teased, grateful to hear a quiet laugh.
"We never spend any quality time together, do we?"
"Oh, stop it," he grumbled, brushing against her. Her sarcasm was blatant, but he knew she was joking.
Things were so strange now between them. Some kind of a friendship was initiated, when he reached out to her and took her home a couple months ago, but it was slow going. And it only seemed to make a
difference during working hours. Last week they even went so far as to have lunch together-during their shift, of course.
He didn't know how to approach her or even if she wanted to be approached anymore. They stood there in silence.
"Grissom, why aren't they coming on?"
Blindly, he reached for her and touched her upper arm, following it down to her hand. "Let's see if we can find the chairs back here." Sara didn't seem phased by him holding her hand, but then again,
he couldn't see her face.
"I can't see a thing," she whined, moving even closer to him as they walked, holding his forearm with her free hand.
"Let's try this again." He turned on his phone and pointed it at the floor to guide them. They got to the small lounge area in the back, and Grissom squinted at his surroundings, grateful the swing
shift supervisor donated a decent little loveseat to the lab last spring. The alternative, sitting on the folding chairs at the small table, seemed uncomfortable.
That sat down, and just as they did, his LCD light went off again, leaving them in darkness again. He didn't let go of her hand.
"This is crazy. What is going on?" she asked impatiently.
"It's a power outage."
"Why don't we have a generator?" Her voice became more animated.
Turning toward her, he asked calmly, "Are you panicking?"
"No, I'm asking why we don't have a generator."
He boldly interlaced his fingers through hers, prolonging their connection. "We just don't. We're not as vital as we like to think. The police department next door has one, but it's not powerful
enough to serve us too. Wait'll they see how much active evidence we lose over this," he mused aloud.
Sara kept wondering if she was dreaming. She was sitting in the dark, holding hands with Grissom. It had gone on too long. She should have pulled her hand away as soon as they sat down, but she
didn't. Why didn't he let go of her once they got to the couch? Now, several minutes had passed, and they still hadn't let go of each other. It was all so bizarre. And it was getting hot. She could
feel her hand sweating already-in his. She had to be dreaming. Closing her eyes, she let out a long sigh.
"So..." he said softly, "You doing all right?" Might as well use the opportunity to talk to her.
Sara sat still, unsure what he meant. Things were so strange between them. Finally she said, "As in, have I calmed down about the power outage, or... am I still drinking after rough shifts?"
Grissom licked his lips and chewed on the bottom one. She didn't seem angry, so he went with, "Either." She didn't say anything. His thumb swept over the back of her hand, making her shiver. "Both,"
he answered bravely. Couldn't they just talk like normal people?
Sara was so glad they were in the dark so he couldn't see her. She was mortified. Did he seriously want to get into this now? "I'm fine," she replied gamely. Her shoulders and back relaxed more into
the small couch. "And... I'm fine, she muttered to the darkness.
"I didn't mean to pry, I just..." She felt him shrug next to her. "I worry about you sometimes."
Okay, the spell was officially broken. "Don't do that," she grumbled, abruptly pulling her hand away.
"What?"
"Worry about me, Grissom. It-" He felt her stiffen and lean away from him. "It's counterproductive."
"What?"
She shifted her legs around a bit. "Never mind. Let's not get into this now."
The silence was deafening. Then he said, "Well, we've got nothing else to do. Why can't I worry about you?"
She turned to his voice, a little surprised, yet scared at the same time. Then his cell phone lit up and the chime of its ring startled them both.
"Grissom."
It was very strange, sitting there listening to his conversation. Well, his half of the conversation.
"I'm in the evidence vault. What's going on out there?" She could tell it was Catherine, and she must have had quite a story to tell because she was going a mile a minute.
"You've got to be kidding me!" he said, sitting up a little. "Was it terrorists?" Sara started to get very nervous.
"You guys better stick around incase it gets crazy, and I want disaster protocol followed to be safe."
Sara sat up, leaning closer to him as he spoke. "No, uh..." his face twisted in her direction, and she could tell he was apprehensive about something. "Sara's with me." He moved his leg so his thigh
rested against hers, and he left it there, the move warming and worrying her at the same time. "Okay, well, let me know as soon as you find out anything. Bye."
"What's going on?" she asked worriedly.
"There was an explosion at the power plant out in Moapa Valley. The whole city is out."
"Oh my God. Vegas is having a blackout? Wow."
"I'm sure they'll just redirect from California or Arizona. It won't be that long. A... few hours maybe..." So many thoughts were going through his head. "They're still trying to determine the cause.
Catherine said nobody's talking terrorism, but... she doesn't know."
"Wow. This is major. There must be people trapped all over the place. I know the big casinos all have generators, but-man, what a mess. Think of the smaller ones. And the looting," she babbled. "It's
a criminal's hay day. We're going to be working doubles for weeks," she grumbled, falling back into the cushions.
"Probably," he agreed. When we finally get out of here, he thought to himself.
"Well," he sighed, leaning back against the cushions too, "I guess we won't be going anywhere for a while." He'd never felt so helpless in his life. Stuck in the dark with Sara, instead of out there
working like he should be. Feeling her leg along his, sensing her breathing and her energy, he actually felt grateful that she was with him. At least he knew she was safe.
He hated that he couldn't see her face, and the need to touch her still baffled him. She was so close. This was probably the closest they'd been since that night he sat beside her in the police
station, coaxing her to let him take her home. They talked a little that night-about her frustrations, but she was so embarrassed, he didn't push her to open up any further.
Instead, he focused on working with her again, getting back that fluidity they once shared on the job, mentoring her. He had to start by showing her that he cared about her as a member of his team,
at the very least.
It was getting better. They'd worked several cases in the past two months, but-it wasn't enough. He didn't know how to reach out to her...
"W-what were we talking about?" he asked mock-innocently, ready to get back to their early conversation. This blackout could end up being the best thing that ever happened to them.
"Gris-som," she chided lightly.
Or, it might be yet another disastrous encounter between them.
He took her heavy sigh as a deliberate brush off and remained quiet. She was probably embarrassed. Or worse, no longer interested.
Her voice was hushed and unsteady. "I-this is so weird." She seemed fidgety, moving restlessly beside him. "What are we supposed to do in here until the power comes back on? We could be stuck here
for days, Grissom."
He blinked, pursing his lips in thought. "Historically, blackouts-if they occur at all-only get shorter as electrical and nuclear power technologies advance. The Great Northeast Blackout of 1965
lasted just over thirteen hours. A single faulty relay switch in Ontario was to blame-"
Sara was silent.
"Are you rolling your eyes?"
Her snort of laughter echoed in the large room. He was grateful to have the tension broken, but another long moment of awkward silence followed.
"I didn't think you wanted to talk to me anymore," Sara said softly, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "Things have gotten so..." She trailed off and sighed.
"I know," he mumbled in agreement, interlocking his fingers across his knees. It was Grissom's turn to be embarrassed. He was never very good with women, and Sara could fluster him like no other. It
bothered him-how he had treated her in the past, how wrapped up in his career he could get around her, yet at the same time how attracted he could be to her.
But right now, they were just sitting in the dark, talking. Not seeing her became almost a comfort for him. She was definitely there-he could feel her and smell her, but in some twisted way it
was helpful for him to not be able to see her reactions, her disappointment and more importantly, her potential rejection. If he just stuck with it and started talking, maybe he could just get
everything out-without shutting down out of fear.
He bumped her foot with his own. "When's the last time we really talked to each other?"
"I don't know," she slurred in a sad, defeated sigh.
Grissom took a deep breath and spoke to the dark. "Sara, do you feel like you're in control of your life?"
She huffed a humorless laugh. "These days? Barely."
"That's just what I mean. Our line of work is so focused and intense. I think it's easy to lose yourself if there's no... outlet there." He paused a moment, carefully gathering his thoughts. "It's
difficult to maintain a personal relationship, even for those criminalists who aren't so... bad at it," he said self deprecatingly.
He could feel her smirk, putting him at ease. He always knew they were very responsive to each other, but he swore sometimes they complimented and fed off each other's natural energy. Sara
knew him somehow, even without knowing him. He'd never gotten that feeling that from anyone else.
"I'm very good at controlling my life," he said wistfully. "All of it. I consistently put each little thing in the right category, the right place. It's an organized existence, with everything in the
right... compartment. Work, home, friends..." He paused, turning and searching the shadows for her face. "... relationships." Was she looking at him? Could she see him?
He softly cleared his throat. "I've always had a hard time-categorizing you. You just, you've become a variable I can no longer predict or estimate."
Sara leaned toward him, having no idea how close she was. "I'm not a science experiment," she whispered, much less spitefully than she could have.
Grissom turned toward her voice, feeling her breath and smelling her skin. "You scare me."
For a brief second, Sara felt his beard brush her temple, and they both immediately backed away.
She wanted to tell him how ridiculous he sounded, but she certainly didn't want to discourage him from continuing. This was the most open he'd ever been with her.
She figured maybe she'd try her own hand at being honest.
"You scare me too, sometimes," she admitted gravely. Why did she have to fall so damn hard for him? Somewhere deep down in her heart she knew the best thing to do was walk away, leave Las Vegas and
move on, but she could never bring herself to do it because she just knew. She could not shake the most basic, intuitive, psychic feeling that filled her every time she was in his presence.
How could he not want to do something about this?
Sara let her hand fall to her side, resting it on the couch between them, and she was startled to feel his hand beside hers. Letting the back of her fingers slowly caress the back of his wrist, she
held her breath and waited for his response. He allowed her the touch, and then after a moment, gently captured her hand in his own. This was getting serious. They'd never really touched each other
purposely before, yet here they were, holding hands in the dark on a loveseat in the back of the evidence vault.
His heavy sigh worried her, but then, with a wavering voice he said, "Sara, I've really loused things up. It's not fair for me to ask anything of you, when I-"
She never thought he would really come around. She didn't want to hope, but she couldn't help it. "What?"
"I haven't treated you right. I didn't do anything right." He sounded calm, but at the same time, exasperated. "It took me a long time to realize what was important to me, and..." He wished
she would jump in and say something, but she didn't.
"We used to be friends, and then..." God, this was hard.
Sara took a risk and said softly, "We both wanted more."
He squeezed her hand, silently acknowledging the accuracy of her statement. "I just don't want to fail," he admitted shyly. "There are so many variables, it's like we're-practically doomed. I have no
way of ensuring its success."
Sara took a moment to absorb his words and said cautiously, "But, how can you know if you don't ever try?" Were they really discussing this? They just came in for a couple boxes of evidence. How did
they get here?
He turned more, shifting his hips a little, and Sara swallowed, licking her lips nervously. "I can't see you," he complained, toying with her fingers.
"I'm right here," she answered, practically giddy. Her heart was racing. She pulled his hand to her face, pressing his palm to her cheek.
Grissom froze, searching in vain for her eyes. "One of the disadvantages to being in pitch blackness is I... can't read your face. I have no idea if you... want me to-"
First her fingers landed on his jaw, startling him. He made no move, just barely tipping his face into them as she gently worked her way over his beard. Then her thumb touched his lips, and he leaned
closer, encouraging her exploration. He moved his hand from her cheek to her hair, tenderly following the strands down the back of her head. He ran his other hand up her arm, across her shoulder, and
tentatively touched her neck, letting his thumb brush over her cheek. She was very close, and the feel of her breath on his face left him dazed. Sara's other hand landed on his side, urging him even
closer. She slid her thumb over his mouth, and then her lips were on his. They were kissing. They were kissing in the dark, on the loveseat in the evidence vault.
And, damn if it wasn't perfect.
Slow and hesitant, the moment grew in intensity as the nervous tension finally subsided. He didn't want to stop, but he felt it necessary to explain between kisses, "Sara, just so you know, this is
probably the only time we could ever..."
"Make out at work?" she laughed.
He smiled against her mouth. "I don't think there's any chance we'll be caught right now."
Her nose bumped his, and then she nuzzled his face sensually. "No, probably... not."
Grissom kissed her again, groaning when she immediately responded. She was so soft and willing, and she smelled so good, and tasted even better-my God, he'd never felt more enraptured by her. It was
like a dream. Trapped in the evidence vault during a blackout. A really weird, wonderful dream. Except one thing was missing.
"I hate that I can't see you."
"You see me every day. Feel me instead," she said breathlessly, boldly kissing down his neck.
She was going to drive him insane. He realized he could do this for hours-if she let him, and she was letting him. He almost felt guilty. Everyone else from the lab was working-no doubt out
protecting the peace, securing and processing any scenes that sprang up, and-oh, screw it, there was nothing he could do from in here. He just wanted his mouth on hers.
By exercising some restraint, the passion eventually slowed to tiny pecks and intimate caresses. Each of them needed a minute to grasp what they were doing, besides the fact they were generating heat
in an already hot situation. They needed air.
"Hey," Sara mumbled, trying to gain control of her senses. God, he smelled good.
"Hmm?"
"Um..." She fidgeted a little. "What are we going to do when the lights come on?" She reluctantly pulled back, waiting for an answer.
Grissom was unsure what she needed to hear, and he wanted to say the right thing. She had no reason to trust him. He'd have to earn her trust, work at this, like everything else he'd worked for in
his life. It was that simple.
"We'll head wherever they need us," he replied, sensing her disappointment before he could finish. He laid his hand across her waist. "And after that..."
Leaning forward until his head touched hers, he closed his eyes and said, "I don't know, maybe we could... have dinner or something..."
He actually sounded nervous, and Sara didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. "Really?" She was grinning stupidly, amazed at how emotional she felt.
He pulled her into a tight hug, and said, "Sara, if you're willing to see me outside of work, for less than professional reasons... well, it would make me very happy."
Sara put her head on his shoulder, her soft breath tickling his neck. "Are you asking me out?"
He didn't like being teased, but he'd rather have her do that than reject him. "Yes," he replied, almost curtly.
"I was just clarifying," she explained, hugging him back. Finally she whispered, "Okay," nuzzling his ear. She held him so close, despite the heat, like she wanted to breathe him into her. "Please
don't jerk me around," she pleaded almost desperately.
"I won't, Sara." Holding her face in his hands, he softly caressed her cheeks, imagining the uncertainty in her expression. "I would never hurt you intentionally," he promised, and he sounded so
sincere that Sara thought her heart would break.
"You mean a lot to me," she said, "In lots of... different ways." She ran her hand up his back enticingly.
He could only kiss her in response.
He truly had no idea how long they sat there, riding waves of restrained passion, unable and unwilling to track time while they kissed. During a respite, they started talking out possible scenarios
for the power plant explosion, with dry mouths and numb lips, no doubt swollen from all the recent activity. If the power came back on right now-they'd probably be busted based solely on
appearance.
"Maybe we should try to take a nap," he suggested out of the blue. "We're going to be working a lot once we get out of here."
"On this tiny couch?" she asked incredulously.
"Sure, why not?" he said, kicking off his shoes. He ran his hand down her calf, reaching for her shoes. He slid them off one at a time and then pulled her onto his lap as he reclined back. Her gasp
of surprise momentarily worried him, but Sara let him hold her, melting into him perfectly, like she'd done it a million times before.
"I'm not going to be able to sleep with you."
"Ever?"
She laughed as she smacked him. "Stop it." She smushed her face into his neck. "You're lucky I even talk to you," she mumbled jokingly, punctuating her statement with a kiss to the sensitive skin
under his ear.
Slowly, he replied, "I know how lucky I am." Even in the darkness, Sara could tell how serious he was.
He jumped at the chime of his phone. She tried to get up as he reached for it, but he held her still as he answered it. The faint glow of the LCD illuminated his face a little.
"Grissom."
There was no way Sara could lay there, casually sprawled across him while he got news of the blackout. She wiggled herself into a semi-sitting position on his legs, propping herself up on his chest
with her hands while Grissom uttered some uninteresting, uh-huhs and yeahs, and even a subdued, really.
Then he asked, "Does the sheriff give a crap that he's got two people trapped in his own evidence vault?"
Sara cocked her head, interested in Catherine's reply to that.
Then Grissom grumbled, "When am I ever on the top of that man's list of priorities?" and Sara stifled a laugh.
"No, we're fine. Really." He was quiet for a moment, keeping very still. Sara really felt like she was invading his privacy-God only knows what kind of conclusions Catherine was jumping to. He was
probably uncomfortable.
"Yeah, maybe," he mumbled, shifting a little. "Okay, thanks, Cath." He hung up, and his face disappeared into darkness again.
Sara wasted no time. "So?"
"The sheriff and the mayor just held a candle-lit press conference next door. The explosion was an accident, the fire's out and power should be restored within the hour."
"Thank God. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying the company, but I've got to pee like you wouldn't believe."
"Me too."
Sara found it odd that he would admit that for some reason. Guess he took this new intimacy level seriously.
"What else did Catherine have to say?"
Grissom shifted again, and Sara got off his legs so he could sit up. "She thinks I should use this opportunity to bond with you," he sighed.
Sara's snort of laughter echoed around him.
In the quiet moments that followed, Sara thought a lot about Grissom's reluctance to get involved with her in the past. This time they spent in the vault was an important step, but he'd need
reassurance that his career wouldn't suffer because of any relationship they had. It was something she wasn't in any position to promise. She didn't even know how to bring it up.
"So, uh... I know one of your concerns is, uh... the fact that I..."
"Work for me?"
Could that man read her mind? "Yeah."
He was silent for a few seconds, and then he said seriously, "Well, I still don't know what to do about that. It's going to be difficult, Sara."
"Maybe." She idly touched his knee.
"Probably," he corrected.
"Pessimist."
"Optimist." He growled at her teasingly, making her laugh.
Then she said brightly, "I have an idea."
He wanted to see her smile. "What?"
"Let's just, see what happens."
He blinked and replied thoughtfully, "I'm having déjà vu."
"Yeah, me too," she grumbled, remembering all too well what happened the last time she said that.
Grissom grabbed her hand at first, but then he let go and reached for the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "Yes. Yes, I want to see what happens."
They hugged for a long time. "We'll just take it slow," Sara suggested, "Okay? One day at a time."
He nodded, but then realized she couldn't see him, so he kissed her cheek and whispered, "Okay." They were kissing again when the lights suddenly came on.
Their eyes immediately slammed shut from the intense light, having completely adjusted to the hours of darkness. "Ow! Damn, that's bright!" Sara squealed, slapping her hand over her eyes.
It took a while for them to readjust, squinting and blinking at their surroundings and at each other. "Are you all right?" he asked, touching both her arms.
"Yeah." She leaned over and kissed him squarely on the mouth, catching him by surprise.
She smiled crookedly. "I'm great." He was blushing, and it was the most attractive thing she'd ever seen. "Nice to see you again."
"You too."
He kissed her once more and said, "Get your shoes on. We've got a lot of work to do."
- The End -