Don't
Comments: Okay, so anyone who has read my fics, knows that my "thing" is creating a story about the development of the initial "relationship" we all love to call GSR. I know I haven't written in quite a while (I took some time and had a beautiful baby girl) but I hope my skills aren't too rusty.
For this story specifically, it isn't placed during any specific time and follows absolutely no preset storyline. I just have this flow in my mind that comes up with these happenstances. I will try to post as often as possible, but be patient with me since I do have a 1-yr old and she takes up a lot of my free time.
I am so glad to be back at my writing and hope you all enjoy. Please review! It feeds my soul!
Disclaimer: Truly, I own nothing but the ideas and the errors.
Chapter 1
Darkness engulfed him. Silence surrounded him. Peace and tranquility filled the spaces between jars of experiments and specimens, shadow boxes of insects and the cluttered desk that would never see organization again. The smooth, cool surface of the leather couch provided yet another comfort in the sanctuary he called his office.
But no matter his surroundings, his mind was always in turmoil, plagued by his latest encounter with the pair of piercing brown eyes and gapped-tooth smile that he saw even when he slept. As of late, each run-in was worse than the last, the final one ending with tears pooling in the chocolate orbs that seemed to hold a part of him. Yet somehow, even though he hurt a part of himself each time he hurt her, the next pain came and went without so much as a blink of an eye.
It was the aftermath that finally made his usually conscious brain think about his earlier actions. This time was no different than the last and probably the next. It would start with a crossing of paths, either at a scene, in the garage or in a lab. Work would proceed as normal, both content to operate with or around the other as was needed to smoothly process the evidence. Then it would happen. He would make a comment, or not make one, which sometimes made things even worse, or flash a look in her direction. In that moment he would watch her melt into herself as she retreated as far away from him as possible. Once he lost her, he would punish himself. As his body involuntarily brought on a migraine, he would send himself to his office, separating himself from the rest of humanity.
And here he was, yet again, wishing for the pounding in his head to cease and hoping for the power to heal both himself and the brunette that he continued to hurt.
He awoke groggy, as usual, with a light pressure still present being his eyes, reminding him of the situation that had brought him to this point. With a roll of his neck he slowly rose and took the few steps needed to reach his desk. Without turning on any lights, he grabbed the keys from his desk, wanting nothing more than to go home and find whatever comfort he could in a hot shower and the cool feel of his own sheets.
But his plan was interrupted by the buzz against his hip. He blew out a frustrated breath as he rolled his eyes behind closed lids before answering, "Grissom."
"Hey."
"What can I do for you Jim?"
"You sound tired. You okay?"
"I just woke up."
"Good. Glad you got some rest because I got a body here with your name written all over it."
Twenty minutes later, Grissom pulled up in his company-issued Denali and met Jim Brass, homicide detective and his best friend, beside the yellow tape that separated him from a work-filled morning.
"Thought you said you got some sleep? You look like hell."
With a smirk, "Well, thank you Jim. I slept on the couch in my office. And I feel like hell too."
"Hmm. Thought those were the same clothes. I hope Sara looks better than you." His last comment earned him the over-the-glasses, one-eyebrow-raised look from his tired friend. He continued to fill him in on the scene before asking, "You okay here? I'll leave Daniels here."
"I'm fine. Tell him to get out of this heat. Wait in his car."
"You got it. Call if you need anything."
Absentmindedly, "Yeah." His mind was at work. Away from what was bothering him, he did what he did best. He lost himself in the job, letting the evidence take over. He took picture after picture, collected bug after bug and swabbed sample after sample. His knees cracked as he stood, protesting the constant bending.
He jerked at the voice behind him, "How long have you been on your knees?"
He took a deep breath before answering, "A while."
"You know you'll pay for that later. Why didn't you call me sooner?"
His brow furrowed. "I didn't call you at all."
He felt the silence behind him and realized he'd done it again. Damn it! He turned to see her walking away. With his aching knees protesting, he carefully took the steps to follow her. "Sara, wait!" He caught her arm as she was getting back into her vehicle. "Wait." Their eyes locked and he found tears he had created yet again. Silence loomed as he searched for the right words. Only two came to mind. "I'm sorry."
Her eyebrows rose, temporarily hiding the sadness in her eyes with a hint of shock. Silently, she wiped tears that hadn't fallen and curtly nodded her head. He took a step back as she gently pushed her way to her feet, amazed that his few words had gotten him so far.
"What do you need me to do?"
Forgive me. "I'm just about done actually. I was just about to call it a day."
She flashed a raised-eyebrow look over her shoulder as she walked back toward his pile of bagged evidence, "Meaning you were about to take everything back to the lab and start the insect timeline?"
He smiled, loving how well she new him. "Something like that."
She started gathering bags and plastic containers and carried them to her SUV, automatically switching to work mode. With their last encounter in the back of their minds, they focused on the task at hand. As she shut the back hatch, she asked without turning, "Would it do me any good if I told you to get some rest before starting this?"
He rubbed the back of his sore neck, wanting to give in to his desire to sleep between the cool sheets on his bed waiting for him at home, but his words opposed, "You know I can't."
Her shoulders heaved. Yes, she knew. With one last effort, "Will you let me help?" She held her breath as she waited.
He laughed inwardly, thinking of all of his evidence piled in the back of her SUV. Did he really have a choice? But more importantly, why did she continue to return to him time and time again, always wanting to help? He could solve some of the most complex problems in the scientific world, but that question, he couldn't answer. Sighing, he gave in, knowing that, if he didn't, he was sure to never find his answer. "I'd like that."
She turned and he was granted the huge, gapped-tooth smile that he adored. Did she expect him to refuse? With a shrug, he decided not to question it.