Title: The Lurie Effect, Part 1

Author: butterflied4life

Rating: High teen

Pairing: Grissom/Sara

Spoilers: Just for Butterflied, from Season 4

Summary: The title says it all. WARNING!!! This story contains violence, both domestic and otherwise.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI in any way, shape, or form. Wish I did.

A/N: Thanks to my beta, Keegan, who is so wonderful and supportive. Without her this story wouldn't have been possible.

A/N: This story was inspired by the episode "Grissom versus the Volcano" from Season 4, when shots ring out and Grissom immediately puts Catherine between himself and a vehicle in order to shield her. I imagined what might have happened if that had been Sara instead of Catherine, and voila! This story was born.

"I couldn't do it…I couldn't do it…I couldn't do it."

Grissom's words to Dr. Lurie play over and over again in Sara's mind as they drive to a crime scene the day after the Debbie Marlin case. Sara is silent, lost in her thoughts; Grissom is also lost in his thoughts, though his are of a very different nature than Sara's.

Eventually, he tries to break the silence. "Sara, I—"

"I get it, Grissom."

"Excuse me?"

"I heard your conversation with Lurie. I was in the observation room while you interviewed him."

Grissom sighs, exasperated. "Sara, you know the methods we use to get a confession."

"You meant what you said. That's why my resignation is on your desk. A plant isn't going to get me to stay this time."

"Would a flower be better?" Grissom queries sarcastically, trying to hide his panic.

"This isn't funny."

"I know, and I'm sorry." He sighs again heavily. "Sara, I honestly don't know what to do about us."

"You're assuming there is an 'us'."

"I am trying to . . . resolve the situation."

"There won't be a situation after tomorrow. I'm flying back to San Francisco."

Grissom decides to switch tactics. "I'm sorry I don't know how to act around you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Could you at least attempt to work with me?"

"Fine. When I'm around you, I can hardly think or breathe, and I have this insatiable need to impress you."

Grissom ponders this a moment as he turns the Tahoe into an alleyway. He parks in front of the specified address and turns to look at Sara. "Exactly. I've never felt that way before. I don't know what to do about it."

Sara unbuckles her seatbelt and glances at him. "Try telling me."

They exit the vehicle, retrieve their kits from the trunk, and stand together at the front of the Tahoe, looking for anything that remotely resembles a crime scene.

"Isn't this—"

"Yes." Grissom cuts her off, his brain furiously working to try and figure things out.

Sara spots something on a nearby wall and goes to look at it. Someone had written in red paint:

I TOLD YOU TO EXPECT SOMETHING MS. SIDLE

Sara pales, thinking back to when she had first heard those words.

*Flashback*

Sara hurries out of the Crime Lab toward her car, pressing the clicker incessantly. Reaching the car, she stops with one hand on the handle of the door, the other pressed against the roof of the car, and tries to stop her racing heart. Debbie Marlin. Damn the whole case! How could Grissom have the gall to say that? How could he? I have spent seven years of my life waiting on his beck-and-call, and he can't even make the smallest sacrifice for me?

A voice causes her to glance up unexpectedly over the top of her car and to the speaker. "There is something between you and Dr. Grissom, is there not?" There stands Dr. Lurie, preparing to enter his own car, which was parked beside hers.

Sara, completely aware she had just been damning the man, decides there is no harm in replying to his question, as a recompense of sorts. "There is absolutely nothing between Dr. Grissom and me."

"Exactly. That was the something." Lurie opens his door, climbs in, and starts his vehicle. Reaching for the door to pull it close, he stops, and adds, "You may expect something to change soon," before shutting the door and driving away.

*End of flashback*

"Shit," Sara says, under her breath.

"Do you know what this is supposed to mean?"

"Umm, yeah. As a matter of fact, we need to go. Right now. I have no idea what'll happen." She grabs his arm and starts to pull him towards the Tahoe. However, before she even takes one step with him, the sound of gunshots rains down on them.

Before Sara can react, Grissom shoves her backwards into the nearest somewhat-safe place, an alcove doorway. She ends up pinned between Grissom and the door, Grissom's face just a few inches from hers. His hands are still on her shoulders, and his torso presses hers back into the unrelenting wood. Her heart beats frantically as she tries to look anywhere but at him. All concern regarding the gunshots has changed, and her mind is now occupied worrying about the man pressing her into a door. Man, you are stupid, Sidle. I didn't think you were that far gone. You guys are possibly getting shot at, and all you can think about is the smell of his aftershave. Hmm . . . minty. I didn't notice that scar on the side of his neck before. And his hands are so big . . . GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF. Sara turns her face to the side to recollect herself—and to stop calculating how many centimeters away his lips are from hers. She did major in physics in college, after all.

The little voice inside Sara's head wakes her up long enough to notice the gunshots have stopped. Grissom has apparently noticed this too, since he opens his eyes (which Sara hadn't noticed were closed) and tentatively leans his head back in an attempt to see something. Obviously what he sees is not good because he jerks his head forward and sharply draws in his breath.

"Five men, dressed in black with ski masks. Every one has a gun. They're just kind of casually walking down the alley. Are you carrying?"

"Shit. Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah. Can you reach it?"

"I'll try." Grissom starts sliding his hands over to her shoulders, then down her arms, trying to make as little other movement as possible. Sara's arms goose-bump from the contact, and Grissom glances from his hands on her arms (which he had been studying meticulously) to Sara's face. She in turn blushes and looks down at his shirt. After gently gliding over her hips, Grissom's hands finally complete their journey and he carefully withdraws Sara's gun from its holster. He pushes the safety button over to the 'ready to fire' position and brings his hands up in front of his chest. He starts slowly shifting backwards.

Sara suddenly realizes he is about to face five armed men alone, with only a small pistol to defend himself. Her hand darts out to grab his arm before she can stop herself. His eyes lock on her, and she starts to lose herself in fathoms of ocean-blue orbs. "Be careful," she breathes. He makes the tiniest nod of affirmation and starts moving backwards again.