Bear Witness
Summary: And now for the rest of the story… Unbound Improv Challenge entry – the first and last lines provided, with 1,000 words to fill in the rest.
A/N: Interest in this story has been dropping off, so I'm going to wrap it up this chapter. Thanks to Laura Katharine for the emergency beta.
Disclaimer: The real owners of CSI disavow any knowledge or approval of this story.

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Chapter 14

"I see you've been exploring."

Sara withdrew her head from underneath the bathroom vanity, smiling guiltily as she did so. That was the first time Grissom had spoken to her since they arrived at his home, and there was no mistaking his irritated tone. She understood that he valued his privacy – a trait she shared – and things were already tense enough since their encounter with Catherine.

"Hey. Yeah. You're about out of tissues," she explained, holding up the box as proof. "Do you have any more?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay. Did you get a hold of the doctor?"

"Yes. He had a cancellation, so I can spend all afternoon sitting in his waiting room."

A coughing spell cut off anything else he was about to petulantly say. Unlike the times in the motel, this was a deep, painful sounding cough. Sara frowned as she stood up and moved to his side. This was more than a cold; he was really sick, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

"You're phlegmish," she noted.

Grissom cocked his head in thought, rubbing his temple wearily. "No, I think we're Danish on my mother's side."

"Not Flemish," Sara said with a sigh. "Phlegm. You're coughing a lot of it up. You…"

"Relax. It was a joke."

"Oh."

They stood together in the bathroom for a few moments, neither of them talking and both avoiding looking at the other. When Grissom tried to cover another cough, Sara rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. There was plenty of time for awkward silences later; he needed to take care of himself.

"You get into bed. I'll get you something to drink. Do you have any juice?"

"Actually, no."

"What about soup?"

"No."

Sara detoured to his living room to grab her purse, pulling a notepad and pen from within it. "Tissues, juice, soup. Do you want to tell me what else you need, or do I have to wait until you're asleep to go through your medicine cabinet and fridge?" she asked with a nervous grin.

"You don't have to pick anything up. I can get whatever I need on the way home from the doctor's office."

"That's not until this afternoon. You should have stuff now," she said, softening her voice as she sat on the couch. "And I don't mind doing this for you."

Grissom sat on the other end of the couch, leaning his head against the back of the seat and letting out a wheezy grunt. He stared at the ceiling for the long time, and Sara shifted uncomfortably. She wanted to let out a bitter laugh; the irony that their stint in a tacky motel room had been too good to be true wasn't lost on her.

Standing up, she went to his kitchen and quietly began taking an inventory. She needed to be doing something. The silence was too oppressive. When she felt him moving behind her, she tried not to tense.

"Anything else you need from the grocery store? I can go to the one around the corner and be back in a few minutes. Then you can go to bed and get some sleep before your appointment," she said rapidly.

"Go to the MegaMart instead."

Sara frowned as he turned around to retrieve his jacket. At this time of day, the crowds would already have shown up at the MegaMart, making the trip to the crowded super store unbearable. Still, if it would make him more at ease, it was a small price to pay.

"Don't worry about the money," she said, tilting her head in confusion when he didn't pull out his wallet but his key chain. Her expression became baffled after he put two of the keys in the palm of her hand.

"Get copies of those made."

"Uh, okay."

Grissom gave her a guarded look and handed her some cash. "This is for you. For what you did for me at the motel. Not the money," he added quickly when her eyes narrowed. "The keys."

"What?"

"They're to the townhouse."

"What?" she repeated.

Grissom dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what to say to convince you that I am serious, and that I'm not going to change my mind about our becoming … involved. I can only show you. I want you to have your own set of keys to my home. You are welcomed here," he said, looking up to emphasis the last words.

Sara's jaw dropped as she moved her eyes to the keys and back to his face repeatedly. Giving her head a shake, she watched him closely. "What about work?"

"We'll figure something out."

"Catherine…"

"Is pissed that I did something that she didn't have advance warning about or didn't figure out on her own," Grissom said with a gentle smile. "Don't worry about it. I'll talk to her. It's nothing a quart of screwdrivers can't smooth over."

"You're sure?" Sara asked softly.

"Very."

Gradually, they stepped closer, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. They leaned against each other until another round of coughing started. Sara half-pushed him out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

"Get in bed. And you better be there when I get back," she said forcefully. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

With a bashful grin, Sara left to pick up his supplies. She was still worried as she fought her way through the crowds at MegaMart. He was upset; she knew it. Things were going to be touchy as they worked this out. But he had given her keys to his home. That was a big step for him. He was set in his ways, but he was making an effort for her.

Sighing, she looked into the full cart. In addition to the new keys and other items on her list, she'd added a case of bottled water, assorted flavors of powdered drink mix, fresh fruit and snacks, lozenges for his scratchy throat and a bottle of cough syrup. More than enough to irk him.

Grissom wouldn't be happy. He didn't like anyone making a fuss over him, and he'd even been hesitant to let her pick up tissues. Her shopping expedition would definitely push her luck, but he needed everything in the cart.

She was heading towards the checkout line when her eyes caught the display at the end of the last row of the pharmacy section. Automatically, she walked to the selection of latex protection, feeling oddly apprehensive.

Her eyes dropped to all the items in her full shopping cart. She'd already gotten too much, at least by Grissom's standards.

But he did say he was serious.

She looked again at all her purchases. Everything was a necessary item. A broad smile formed as she reached for a box. Surely one more couldn't hurt.

The End