Inappropriate

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Category: General/Romance
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Don't let that bother you, though. I don't let it bother me.

Summary: Grissom takes a trip down memory lane while working a tragic accident scene with Sara. Meanwhile, Sara isn't sure what to make of his new attitude.

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Chapter 2

~*~Las Vegas, 2004

Grissom spent most of the evening interviewing the park staff with the detectives, while Sara worked the scene. By early morning, she had made her way up the stairs to the start of the slide, searching the top of the pipe-shaped ride for anything that could have caused the accident. She hadn't gotten very far when she heard Grissom making his way up behind her.

"Find anything?"

"Nothing so far." She sounded frustrated.

"Well, the slide attendant said the kids ignored his warning, ran past him and tried to all go down together. He was able to stop six or eight of them, but he thinks more than twenty made it through. We could be looking at collapse due to excess weight."

"Hm." Sara thought for a moment, glancing at the 'One Person at a Time' sign that was prominently displayed next to the ride. "There are a lot of variables. Still could have been faulty equipment," she mused.

Grissom peered into the slide. "This looks like a job for a physics major," he deadpanned, nodding and twisting his lips as if in deep thought. Sara couldn't help but find him mildly amusing and smiled. "We need to get in that slide," he added solemnly.

"We?"

"Well," Grissom shrugged, "I wasn't a physics major."

"Great. It's already 90 degrees out, and I get to play in a sweltering hot black fiberglass tube." She leaned further into the slide, her voice echoing as she complained some more. "You know, it's all wet in here!"

"It's a water slide. I'm not sure, but I think it's supposed to be." That earned him a glare. "Why don't you run home and get a bathing suit, or... something? I'll make sure the fire department's all set up beneath you," he said, starting back down the stairs.

Sara followed close behind, muttering quietly, "How considerate. I'd hate to take a fifty foot fall while on the job."

~*~Berkeley, 1995

Well, if it isn't my little physics major, Grissom thought as he spied Sara Sidle reading alone at a table across the library. He had been in the Berkeley science library for half an hour, looking for a particular book about forensic mathematics. Although the computer indicated the book was checked in and shelved, he had no luck locating it.

Giving up, he decided he would stop and say hello to Sara on his way out. He stood next to her table for a few seconds, but she ignored him and continued reading, clearly enthralled.

He moved closer to her and peered over her shoulder to see what she was reading. "That's my book!" he said, much louder than he intended to.

Sara gasped and nearly leapt out of her seat. "What?"

He laughed and touched her shoulder briefly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I've been looking for that book for half an hour!"

"Oh, really?" Sara looked up at him, and her smile was contagious. "Well, I haven't checked it out... yet." There was something just barely suggestive about the way she said it.

He stared at her, mildly intrigued. "So you're going to let me have it?"

She gave him a sly, head to toe look and cocked an eyebrow salaciously. "May-be."

Grissom suddenly got very nervous, and all expression fell from his face.

"I'm just kidding," she laughed, closing the book and handing it to him. "Here." She took a deep breath and continued, "Although... I would like to formally request another field trip, professor."

Grissom relaxed considerably, knowing full well Sara was only after knowledge. Having her in his seminar the past two weeks proved that she was always after knowledge. "Really?"

She nodded and grinned.

"What are you doing this afternoon?" he asked, surprising her.

"Well, I was reading about the forensic mathematics of DNA matching, but... someone took my book away."

God, she was a smartass. "I've got to go to the Butterfly Pavilion today, in San Francisco." He sat casually on the edge of her table, watching her head cock in puzzlement. "They have a wonderful insect center-you could see a lot of examples of forensically related bugs and insects."

"Hmm. Sounds... gross, but interesting." She packed up some of her things, but then stopped and asked, "Are you sure? I didn't mean to horn in on your day..."

"I'm sure. It's the least I could do for stealing your book away," he said, pretending to pop her on the head with it.

The twenty-minute drive into San Francisco passed quickly. Having Grissom all to herself, Sara couldn't resist picking his brain and asking question after question about forensics and life as a criminalist.

Grissom was all too happy to indulge her. The more time he spent with Sara, the more he knew she was meant to be a CSI. He could feel it.

"What did you need to come here for, anyway?" she asked as they pulled into the Butterfly Pavilion parking lot.

"They have an extra giant black stag beetle that I may take for a specimen." Sara wrinkled her nose a little. "They're highly prized by collectors and entomologists alike," he argued.

"Great," Sara nodded. She was starting to find Grissom's quirkiness rather endearing.

It got even worse when he showed her around the insect center. His excitement was practically childlike as he lectured her on so many insects. Then he led her to the beetle area. "They don't have any larvae samples, but there are several appropriate adult beetles here." He pointed to the glass terrarium on his right. "This is the Sexton Beetle, very common on human remains-ooh, they've got an American carrion beetle!" He quickly moved to the next display. "That's another common adult found on decomposing flesh. I think they've got blowflies on the other side. Let's go over here..."

And so his field trip lecture continued. "It takes a while to recognize the larvae, but once you can, it makes for very telling evidence. The lifecycle timelines alone can make or break a case regarding time-since-death estimates."

"Do I get to see the butterflies too?" Sara asked, when they had pretty much seen all the insect center had to offer.

Grissom shrugged, not expecting her to be interested. "Do you want to? They're not exactly forensically relevant."

"I'm sure you can still tell me a lot about them," she teased, heading toward the tropical conservatory that housed over 1,200 free-flying butterflies.

"Phew, it's hot in here," Sara said after a while.

"The temperature's maintained at 85 degrees, with 90% humidity, ideal for the butterflies and plant life."

"Not ideal for naturally curly haired brunettes," she mused.

Her hair had, indeed, kinked up adorably. Looking at her now, it was the first time all day he felt mildly uncomfortable. He started to notice how... cute she was. He obviously found her intellectually stimulating, but to find her physically attractive seemed terribly... inappropriate. Besides the observable age difference, she was, for all intents and purposes, his student right now. Grissom suddenly felt the urge to put an end to this field trip fast. He made a mental note to be sure to bring another student with them on the next impromptu outing. He was just about to suggest they head back to Berkeley when he noticed a butterfly resting on her shoulder.

He kept his voice calm and low. "Sara, don't move."

"Whyyyy?" she asked nervously, her eyes darting around her.

He started to smile. "There's a butterfly on your right shoulder. Turn your face very slowly."

She did, and when it came into her line of sight, she smiled too. "Cool! Look at him! He's just... sitting there."

"She," he corrected.

"How do you know?" she whispered, afraid the butterfly would flee at the sound of her voice.

"Sexual dimorphism. That's a 'Cupid's Quilt'."

"Huh?"
"The Latin name for that particular butterfly means 'Cupid's Quilt'." He very gradually moved closer to her as he spoke. "The females have a bright pattern on the hind wings. See it?"

"Oh yeah..."

She turned and smiled up at him, and in that moment, when their eyes met, something passed between them-some unspoken chemistry was silently acknowledged. It was complex and bittersweet, leaving them both a little uneasy.

And then the butterfly flew away, breaking the spell and taking the moment away with it forever.

"Well, we should... get back," Grissom suggested.

"Yeah. We should," she responded softly.

~*~Las Vegas, 2004

Grissom stood outside the women's locker room, waiting for Sara, thinking about the day they spent at the Butterfly Pavilion years ago. He missed that time in his life-missed the easiness that they had enjoyed. It may have stemmed from an unlikely circumstance, but they had been friends in Berkeley, that summer. He wanted to get back to that comfort level somehow, even if it meant confronting feelings for her that went beyond friendship. He knew it were only his own fears that stopped himself from enjoying Sara-from cultivating what could have turned into a loving, intimate relationship.

He also knew that it might be too late. Recently, the thought of losing her was becoming more frightening than the thought of being with her. Sara's voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"All right, I guess I'm ready."

His eyes widened as she walked closer. She was wearing a black bikini top with a small purple and green paisley design, and a pair of black nylon running shorts. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked extremely uncomfortable and refused to make eye contact with him.

"I-I'm sorry, this is the only bathing suit I have. I know it's not exactly appropriate..."

"I wasn't complaining," he said, having trouble meeting her eyes himself.

Sara gaped at him, and then quickly averted her eyes as a wild flush crept over her cheeks. For a second, she considered swatting him, but she didn't. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and headed toward the ride, happy to don her forensics vest, even in the sweltering heat.

Grissom made his way to the top of the platform the fire department had raised at the end of the collapsed slide. He photographed the broken section and then waited for Sara to make her way through. It seemed like she was in the giant tube for hours. He actually felt nervous for her. Though the flowing water had long since been turned off, it was still wet and no doubt slick inside the slide.

Finally, he could see her, gingerly making her way down backwards. He watched for a moment, until he realized all he was seeing were her long, muscular legs flexing and her delightful rear end wiggling. He cleared his throat and stepped back from the slide. "Get anything?"

Sara grunted, trying not to slip. "Just a second."

She continued to work her way out, but started to slip. Grissom lunged toward the opening to catch her, though it would have only been a short drop to the platform. She managed to stop herself from sliding out in a less-than-graceful move, spreading her legs wide and slamming her feet along the dryer sides of the ride. She looked down, mortified to see Grissom standing at the opening. "What are you doing, watching me?" she squealed.

"Would you get out of there? You're making me nervous."

"Oh, what else is new?" she muttered quietly, but he heard her. He also heard her mumble something about 'enjoying the view', but he didn't think it wise to ask her to repeat herself.

She finally swung her legs out and hopped down next to him. As she did, he put his hands on her waist to help her. She gasped and turned around quickly, surprised by his touch. They stared at each other for an awkward few seconds. "Phew! It's um... hot in there."

Grissom dropped his arms immediately. "Hm."

"There's nothing, Grissom," she said, composing herself valiantly. "Nothing but wet, slippery plastic." She turned around and looked at the broken section of the slide, paying close attention to the still-intact bolts. "This is our only evidence."

"Yeah, I noticed that while you were in there."

"The bolts held."

"Yeah, I know. I already photographed it."

"So it was the actual slide that gave way, not the hardware," Sara said, touching the collapsed segment.

"Definitely looking like an excess weight collapse."

She glanced down at the ground. "Wow. I can't believe they fell from this high up. It's a wonder every one of them didn't die."

"The detective is talking to the survivors this morning. We should know more soon."

Sara seemed slightly dazed, looking off in the distance. "They were just kids at a waterpark."

"We'll find out what happened," he promised, feeling unusually sympathetic for her.

They removed the damaged part of the slide so it could be taken back to the lab for further analysis.

When they were back on solid ground, Grissom offered to pack up her kit for her. "You um... probably want to go change," he blurted.

"Nah, I thought I'd wear this back to the lab," she teased, still feeling self-conscious.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said, quite seriously, as if Sara hadn't been joking at all. Unexpectedly, a mischievous gleam appeared in his eye. "I think Greg would be permanently slack-jawed."

She did swat at him that time, and he chuckled, leaving Sara utterly puzzled as she headed to the locker room. He was being friendly, joking with her. Flirting with her. She missed it so much, but she knew better than to get her hopes up. Those days were over. He wasn't going to suddenly change his mind and want to be with her.

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