Grissom walked into his townhouse just as the sun was rising. Soft morning rays slanted through his blinds, creating rows of sepia on his floor. He set down his kit in its place on the shelf beside the door. Some habits never change; keys went beside the kit, his vest on the hook on the wall. He made a mental note to put a second hook up – these days it seemed he needed more than one of everything. Rubbing his jaw, he shuffled down the hall towards the bedroom.
The blinds were halfway open and as the sun shone into the room, dust particles floated in midair, glittering. Light flooded his quilt cover and graced the rustic metal of the frame. Although it was fairly warm, he shivered. Images he couldn't handle right now were suddenly in front of his eyes, playing out like ghosts before him. He bit his lip and shook his head, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest.
Thinking about these things alone just didn't have the same effect anymore.
He peeled off his clothes and threw them into the hamper. He was sweating slightly as another shiver jerked his body. Maybe a shower would do him good. As soon as the shower was on, steam filled the tiny room. He looked at himself in the mirror. He'd lost some weight, shaved his beard again, let his hair go grey. He was looking pretty good.
He caught his own eyes and saw how dark they were. He could never see his eyes the way others did. He'd been told how charismatic they were; how they could shoot daggers or melt a woman. But this darkness that he'd been seeing in the mirror lately…he knew what it meant. It made him start to ache again and he tore his gaze away.
Water pounded his back and shoulders when he stepped in. It kneaded his muscles and softened his skin, making him groan slightly to himself. Through the steam and water he could almost see the phantom form of someone reaching for him. The noise of the showerhead was like a hiss he knew well. The pounding water was like hands on his shoulders…
Quickly, he turned off the water and leaned his head against the cold tile. He couldn't for the life of him let this go. Ever since leaving for his sabbatical, he'd had thoughts such as these nonstop. Clouding his brain, surrounding his heart. And goddamnit, they would not go away.
He heard the front door close and heard keys smack against wood. A small smile graced his lips and he reached for his towel. He was appreciative of her timing – he was beginning to think he'd go crazy. After toweling off quickly, he slipped on a pair of boxers and headed out of the ensuite.
He found her in the kitchen, putting groceries away in the fridge. She looked like she belonged there. Grissom wondered when they'd come to the stage where she would bring groceries to his townhouse and neither of them say a word about it.
"Hey," he said quietly. Sara flinched, the hand holding a container of milk automatically freezing. She looked him up and down and relaxed.
"You scared me," she mumbled, ducking behind the fridge door to put away the milk. He made his way around the island with a tiny smile.
"I noticed."
He reached for a bag of apples, simultaneously pressing a light kiss against her neck. Her hand reached backwards and caressed the back of his neck.
"You smell good," she laughed. He squeezed her waist.
"You don't," he chuckled. She laughed and resumed her fridge-stocking.
"Well whose fault is that? Hm, maybe my crabby supervisor who seems to enjoy putting me on decomps…"
Her voice echoed as she ducked once more into his fridge, this time putting away some peppers. When she finally finished and shut the door, she saw that Grissom was leaning against the island, just watching her. He was wearing only boxers. His hair was wet. And his eyes were darker than the ocean during hurricane season.
It was going to be one of those days.
Those days where the best chunk of the morning was spent in bed. Not that she was complaining – she loved those days. Grissom did too. He'd usually arrive home first and he'd be waiting for her. Just the look on his face could tell her that he wanted her. The simplest touch could send fire blazing across her skin. His eyes…they held so much emotion and need on some days that she almost couldn't bear to look into them.
"…Let me go get a shower first, okay Griss?" she asked with a slight smile, backing away from him. He followed her around the island, his eyes never leaving hers. He shook his head slowly.
"But I smell like decomp!" Sara complained, holding out her hands.
"I'm used to it," Grissom chuckled as he reached out and grabbed them, intertwining their fingers together and pulling her close. Sara was about to protest again when his lips covered hers, her complaint turning into a small moan of appreciation despite herself.
Grissom liked to do this to her. He took an odd enjoyment in making her lose herself. But as he felt her hands on his back, his chest tightened and his breathing increased, reminding him that she could do things to him, too. Ever since being with Sara, things had changed. His routines, his moods, even his eating habits. His life surrounded her now. Now, being with her, he could almost feel her hands around his heart, squeezing it.
It wasn't his intention to make this particular morning one of what they called 'those days'. No, today was going to be what would hopefully be called 'that day'. Singular, as in 'the one day' that it all happened.
As he conjured up the courage he kissed her thoroughly, working his hands under her vest and shirt. Finally, he figured that he should get it over with before it was too late and they'd gone too far. He slowly pulled his lips from hers and looked her straight in the eyes. Her skin glowed in orange light from the window and her eyes glittered, reminding him of his previous thoughts in the bedroom.
He swallowed hard and squeezed her fingers. He saw Sara watching his eyes blink nervously and wondered if she could see the struggle he was going through. His mouth opened as if to say something and then it closed. He didn't know how he was going to do this. He was panicking.
"Sara, I--" he began quietly, but then stopped. She was staring at him and he couldn't stand it. One of her eyebrows twitched upwards. She squeezed his hand this time.
"What is it?" She asked, looking concerned. He bit the inside of his lip. Slowly, he raised her arms and held them by her wrists. He placed her long, slender hands against the bare skin of his chest. The feeling made him groan slightly and he closed his eyes, feeling the familiar fireworks in his head.
"Can't you see this?" He asked softly, his eyes still closed. Sara's fingers trembled slightly against his torso, so he pressed his body closer to hers.
"See what?"
Grissom was silent for a moment and then he sighed. Sara knew that whatever he wanted to say was hard for him to get out.
"What you do to me. What we do to each other…" he put his hand over hers and slid it to the left side of his chest to where his heart was beating rapidly, "Can't you feel that?"
He opened his eyes finally to see hers glossy and wet.
"I love you."
Sara stood, shocked for a moment, and then wrapped her other arm around him. A small sob escaped her as she buried her face into his shoulder. He pulled her close.
"I know…I should have told you so long ago. I should have done a lot of things, honey…I'm sorry."
Sara looked up then, wiping the few tears that had fallen. She kissed him hard on the lips and then she started to laugh. It confused him for a moment, then she realized that she was simply happy. He was elated. He picked her up by the waist and spun her around the room to the couch, where they both collapsed in fits of laughter and kisses.
It was one of those days…
a/n: Thanks for reading!