Contact
By Miss Jazz
Category: Angst/Romance, GSR.
Spoilers: "Pirates of the Third Reich."
Summary: He held her hand, but he hugged someone else.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, and all the wishing in the world probably won't change that.
Author's Note: This is how I wish "Pirates of the Third Reich" had ended! Although the episode wasn't as bad as it could have been, I'm still very frustrated with (Grrrrr) Lady Heather and TPTB. We really need some GSR! PLEASE! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Sara found him in the parking lot that morning, just as he had planned.
"Grissom?" she called out, as she walked briskly toward his SUV, her brown eyes focussing on him.
From the driver's seat, he watched her approach, his face tight with stress. He could see her concern in the way she moved, in her stiff, quick steps, and the gentle tilt of her head. It was obvious that she hadn't been expecting to see him there. He hoped it wasn't too obvious that he was expecting to see her.
"Griss?" She came to a stop right next to him, peering through the open window. "Hey, you okay? Brass said you left an hour ago."
He looked up slowly, clearing his throat. "I did."
"You did?"
"Yes, I did," he sighed. "I just didn't get very far."
Sara raised an eyebrow. "Apparently."
Grissom gave her a weak, uneasy smile and he wondered if he looked as distant and as lost as he felt. He realized that he probably did, but he didn't have official confirmation until Sara took a step closer to him and asked him again if he was alright.
He considered saying yes, but then waiting for her in the parking lot wouldn't have made much sense at all. He'd been waiting for her ever since shift ended, ever since they'd said a quick goodbye after wrapping the Kessler case. He had disappeared and she had obviously gotten distracted in the lab, as she usually did. She never did leave on time. And most times, he didn't either.
But she was here now, and if he said yes, she would be gone.
So he shook his head and ignoring the almost-painful pounding in his chest, he said, "no." Then he watched nervously as Sara's expression changed from one of concern to one of recognition.
"This, uh, this has something to do with the Zoe Kessler case, doesn't it?" She took a deep breath before adding, "And Lady Heather?"
He nodded reluctantly, jaw twitching."Yeah. She, uh...she almost killed a man last night."
Sara didn't seem surprised, which made Grissom cringe. "I heard," she told him, her voice soft and maybe a little bit hoarse. He couldn't tell. "Brass filled me in. He said you got there just in time. You stopped her."
He shrugged. "I didn't stop her. I made her stop herself."
"You stopped her," Sara insisted. "She had a right to be that angry, but she didn't have the right to kill. She could have gone all the way if you hadn't been there to remind her of that."
Grissom bowed his head, avoiding Sara's gaze. The previous night was haunting him, but this wasn't the part he needed to talk about. No, this wasn't what was bothering him at all.
"Sara..." he trailed off, looking up again and searching for something in her eyes to tell him that he wasn't out of his mind to ask her what he was about to ask her. He saw a small glimmer of something there. "Sara, I..."
"What, Grissom?"
"If I asked you to get in the truck right now and just take a drive with me, would you?"
Sara swallowed back her surprise and the little bit of hope that his words sparked. It was dangerous hope–she'd learned that the hard way. "You want me to take a drive with you?" she repeated, needing him to say it again, just so she'd know it was real.
"Yes," he breathed. "Yes...I would like it if you would take a drive with me."
Noticing the pain in Grissom's eyes, Sara let out a long breath. ""I...I can do that," she replied calmly, quietly. "If you need me to."
"I need you to."
Sara just stood there for a moment, processing his request. Then, wordlessly, she opened the passenger side door and she climbed in, fastening her seatbelt quickly. "Where do you want to go?" she asked him, her tone gentle and comforting, but with a hint of her own pain.
He glanced over at her with a small, grateful smile. "Away."
"That's not very specific."
"I know."
Away ended up being just outside of Vegas, on the side of a quiet road.
Grissom seemed to be very familiar with that exact, deserted spot. He'd been looking out for it for about ten miles before they stopped and Sara had become very curious. She would have asked for an explanation, but they hadn't talked since they left the lab. Apparently, Grissom's idea of a drive involved complete silence.
She wasn't surprised.
But she was getting frustrated.
Taking off her seatbelt, she turned in her seat so that she was facing him. "I think this is the point where I'm supposed to ask what we're doing here," she said lightly. "I'm guessing that you have a pretty good reason..."
"I do."He closed his eyes for a moment, digging cautiously into the past. "I worked a case out here the week before I asked you to come to Vegas," he told her, sighing deeply. "Nick and I processed the scene. There, uh, there were two bodies. A male and a female, both in their late twenties."
Sara listened closely, noticing the hitch in his breathing.
"They were both shot, fatally," he continued, his body rigid in the seat. "The bullet hit an artery in the male victim and the woman was shot in the lower abdomen. They were left to bleed out, right out there in that field." He pointed to the right, looking out Sara's window.
Sara turned her head, imagining the scene along with Grissom. "Did you get a conviction?"
"Yeah, we did. The woman's ex-boyfriend. It was pre-meditated. Life in prison, no parole."
"Motive?"
"Jealousy. That's it. Just...jealousy."
"We see that all the time," Sara replied, staring at him. "But that's not what's bothering you about it, is it?"
"No."
Timidly, she reached out to him, touching his arm. "Grissom..."
He licked his lips and then continued. "When we found them, they were together," he explained. "They were...wrapped up in each other's arms. They died holding each other."
Grissom looked over at her then, meeting her gaze, and Sara found herself frozen in her seat. This particular scene obviously meant something to him and she found herself wondering if she fit into all of this. Just as she was about to open her mouth and let words tumble out, he interrupted her with a dark, remorseful chuckle.
"God, Sara," he whispered. "When we found them, the first thing I thought about was how much I wanted that, how much I wanted that kind of contact with someone, that kind of connection..."
Sara's mouth went dry. "That doesn't sound like you," she said, as kindly as she could.
"I know it doesn't."
"I can't even imagine you wanting physical contact with anyone," Sara replied sadly.
"I've made it seem that way."
"You're very convincing."
He ran his fingers along the steering wheel, feeling his anxiety build. "I'm not good at human contact, Sara. And...and I know that I don't need to tell you that. But I do need to tell you about something that happened last night."
His low voice made her shudder. "Okay..."
Grissom dropped his hands into his lap. "Last night, when I found Lady Heather...she was...distraught. She was breaking down, crying, angry..."
"I can understand that."
"Me too. But...I didn't understand my reaction." He dropped his chin to his chest, feeling as if he'd made the biggest mistake of his life."I held her, Sara," he said, his voice barely audible. "I held her. She walked right into my arms and I let her. I let her stay there."
Sara was pretty sure that all the air had been sucked from her chest. "You did?"
He felt sick. "Yeah, I did...and the only thing I could think about was how many times I've wanted to do that for you."
Her heart lurched, and for a minute, she was silent. Then, she managed a small and strained, "Why didn't you?"
"I don't know."He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. "I held your hand, but I hugged her. I wanted to give you more and give her less and it worked out the other way around." He reached over, brushing his fingertips lightly on her hand, making a little bit of contact and hoping desperately for more.
Surprised, she watched his fingers as they ran gently across her knuckles. "But why, Grissom. Why did it work out the other way around?"
He hesitated. "Because...I was scared that you wouldn't think it...felt right. I...I thought that if you got close enough, you'd realize that you didn't really want me, that it didn't feel the way you thought it would."
"You never let me get close enough because you thought you wouldn't live up to my expectations?" Sara shook her head, feeling heat in her cheeks. "Grissom, I never had any expectations. I just wanted you to give me a chance. I don't need anything spectacular."
He didn't reply to that. Instead, he took off his seatbelt, opened his door, and climbed out of the SUV slowly. Shutting the door behind him, he moved over to Sara's side. She was already climbing out, her eyes tracking his every move.
"I don't want to be holding and comforting the people who don't mean anything to me," Grissom said, as he stopped in front of her. "I don't want to do that. I...I want to be able to get close to the people who really matter."
"Then you have to let them get close to you," Sara breathed. "You...you have to let me get close to you."
Her brown eyes urged him on, begging him in the same way he was begging her.
So, in one swift movement, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close to him as he possibly could. With careful hands, he tucked her head under his chin and with trembling fingers, he made a light trail through her hair. Her breaths came rapidly against his neck and chest.
"How long did it last?" she asked quietly, as she soaked in the heat from Grissom's embrace.
"How long did what last?"
"Lady Heather. Holding her. How long did you hold her for?"
His lips brushed her forehead and he sighed.
"Too long."
The End.