| Title: It Has Always Been By: TriplePirouette Category: GSR UST Spoilers: Up to and including Butterflied Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor college student having fun... take pity... Distribution: please ask first :) Summary: Post-ep for Butterflied. Author's Notes- Third in a series... This was beta'd at some point, but I don't remember if I made all of the alterations. It's been far too long since I've worked on this, and this has been done forever, so here it is. :) Sorry about the break. Feedback PLEASE at: TriplePirouettePhile@hotmail.com I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores.... Also, anyone trying to deny the G/S ship after this episode will be burned at the stake for heresy. ;) In the nicest possible way, of course. J/k ~~~~~~~~~~ Stopped at a red light only a few blocks away from Sara's apartment, Grissom blew into his hand then ran his tongue over his teeth. In his haste to get out of his apartment and to hers while he still had the courage to profess his revelation over Stouffers, he'd neglected to brush his teeth or even do more than run a comb through his still wet hair. He'd entered the shower fully content to come up with a slow, methodical plan to woo Sara but as the seconds passed, an all too familiar feeling of dread and uncertainty settled in his stomach and he knew that if he didn't do something about this now, and he meant now, that there was a very real possibility that he'd pile himself so deeply in what-if's and excuses that he would never get up the courage again. He'd rushed around his house, throwing on jeans and whatever shirt was closest, rushing through his grooming ritual with one thing on his mind: getting to Sara. ~~~~~~~~~~ Sara tipped her head slightly as she turned off the water, listening. Hearing nothing, she spit the toothpaste out into the sink and turned the water on to rinse it down the drain. Then she heard it again. This time she was sure of it; it was a knock at her door, and more insistent this time. She spit again and rinsed out her mouth, dropping the toothbrush into the holder as she moved out towards the door. "Coming!" She shouted, wiping her face with the sleeve of her terrycloth robe to rid it of the drops of water clinging to her lips. She pushed her face up to the peephole, and jumped back when she saw who it was. A mailman, a delivery boy, maybe even a neighbor asking to borrow sugar... she had expected all of them. Not him. Not in a million years. Not this close to the end of the case. She quickly turned the bolt and pulled open the door, only to stand there, staring at him. "Hi," he said simply. "Hi," she replied with what she was sure was a dumb smile on her face. They stared at each other over her threshold, their eyes sweeping and appraising the other. "Come in!" She said, snapping back to her senses as she pulled back the door. "Let me just go get changed..." "Yeah," he agreed, watching as she disappeared into the bedroom, the image of her shapely legs peaking out of her short, fluffy robe ingrained on his brain. Grissom paced the room, wringing his hands together, trying to decide what, exactly, he was going to say. She reemerged a few minutes later in a pair of low ride jeans and a tight blue t-shirt, her feet bare, and the hair starting to dry and curl around her shoulders. "So," Sara said, moving around to the kitchen to get her mug of coffee, "Can I get you something?" Though she tried to hide it well, the nervousness in her voice was obvious. He stared at her while she was pouring the coffee, feeling the urge to flee grow stronger with every minute. Flight was strong, but he wanted to fight. Sara turned to him and raised an eyebrow. With a deep breath he stepped forward, taking the mug from her and putting his hands on her shoulders. Their eyes met and held, seconds passed by, but it felt like hours as Grissom stuttered internally. He opened his mouth, and closed it with a small shake of the head. "Sara..." "Gil..." She moved her hands to rest on his arms, moving slightly up and down. She was nervous... his eyes conveyed too much to be separated into emotions: every emotion he had was displayed: his heart was in his eyes. "Have... have you ever had a moment where suddenly everything makes sense? Where one second you're pissed off because you burned your dinner and the next second the words you've heard a thousand times mean so much more than they ever did and you see the universe in your burnt cheese?" Sara just stared at him. The words came out in a passionate rush as his eyes stayed glued to hers. She took a deep breath and moved her handoff of his arm to place her fingers on his temple. "I'm sure that made sense up here..." she said tapping gently. A slow smile spread across her face as he let out a short, frustrated breath. She let her hand flatten on his cheek and gently rubbed her thumb along his beard. His eyes fluttered shut and she sighed. Sara still couldn't tell if he was here to give her good news or bad news, she just knew that whatever it was, it was important. Time ticked by and he was silent, and every nerve in her body knew that the longer he waited the harder it was going to be. She steeled herself and frowned, knowing what she'd have to do to make this go easier for him. "I know that you can't do it," she said quietly, causing his eyes to snap open in horror. She was looking at the floor; otherwise she'd have seen the disbelief in his face as his jaw dropped at her words. "That's... not what I would have chosen," she laughed out nervously, "but I can live with that if... if we can go back to being friends." "No," Grissom spat out, willing her to look up at him. She didn't move, but stayed perfectly still as a single tear trailed its way down her face. "Sara..." he pled, but she assumed he was asking for her understanding when he was begging for her attention. "Shit!" he spat as he dropped his arms away from her, knowing he'd failed to make her understand. Sara's body jerked as she lifted her head. She watched him pace the tiny area in the kitchen a few times before stopping and staring at her. "Sara, don't you get it? You're my macaroni and cheese!" She stared at him for a second; unsure if that actually came out of his mouth. Another tear fell of it's own accord as her brow wrinkled in confusion. She wanted to ask if he'd gotten enough sleep, or had he hit his head... had he been drinking? But the way he looked at her, like he looked at her in the lab when the answer was so plain and simple and right there, it made a laugh burst out of her lips. Soon she was leaning against the counter, dissolved into fits of giggles. She tried to stop and ask him, but every time she looked up at his serious face she started laughing again. She was his macaroni and cheese? Did that mean he wanted to eat her? Freeze her? Hell, she didn't even know if he liked macaroni and cheese! Suddenly, as he watched Sara gasping for breath as she finally stopped laughing, he understood the absurdity of what he'd just said. Of course she didn't understand it. He smiled and moved closer to her, cupping her face with his hands. "Let me rephrase..." "Please..." she said, the laughter still threatening to erupt if she was compared to dinner again. "I burnt my macaroni and cheese in the oven tonight. Without thinking I just reached in the oven and pulled it out, not looking for the potholder. When I looked at it only the edges were burnt, but most of it, the center, the core of it, was still fine. I realized I took a chance- I could have really hurt myself doing that- but if I had waited to find the potholders, which were in the laundry, I would have lost it all." He grew serious, his words turning to whispers as he moved closer to her. "We're that macaroni and cheese, Sara... I don't want to turn around one day and find it's all burnt... that we're all burnt... while I was wasting time. I needed to take a chance." "I thought you couldn't?" She asked as he leaned his forehead against hers, molding her body to his. A shaky breath left him, "You heard?" "Yes." Sara wound her arms around him in a move so natural she almost didn't realize she did it. She didn't offer an apology or an explanation. She had heard, that was all that was important. He was silent for a moment, but kept her in his arms. "You're dangerous, Sara," he whispered into her ear. "You are a fire ready to consume me. I was afraid of losing myself to you. In you." He stopped and smiled to her ear as he quoted, "The closer you get to the fire the more you get burned." Sara smiled, "But that won't happen to us, because it's always been a matter of trust." She pulled back to look in his eyes. "I never pegged you for a Billy Joel fan." "That would be part of 'Gil Grissom, the person,' whom you have yet to get to know." He smiled and started reciting more of the lyrics to her, "I know you're an emotional girl. It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world. I can't offer you proof..." "...but you're going to face a moment of truth." She finished, a slight melody in her voice. He pulled her more firmly to him. She buried her face in his neck, feeling and hearing as he continued, "It's hard when you're always afraid. You just recover when another belief is betrayed. So break my heart if you must." Sara shook her head, trying to tell him she could never break his heart, "It's a matter of trust," she said plainly. When he didn't move or say anything she sighed and continued, afraid to break the spell, "You can't go the distance with too much resistance. I know you have doubts..." Sara's voice cracked as she continued, "But for god's sake don't shut me out..." Grissom was lost in the words, mentally adding the melody in behind them. They started swaying in a quasi dance, in the middle of Sara's kitchen, the feel of each other as surreal as the circumstances. Grissom whispered, his breath tickling the little hairs of her neck. "I want to kiss you." "I want you to kiss me," Sara replied, her response soft and breathy. When there was no reply, no movement from Grissom, Sara pulled back to look in his clear, blue eyes. Among all of the emotions there, she found wonderment. "Well?" She gently asked. "I don't often get the chance to do the things I want to do." Grissom dropped his eyes, looking away from Sara shamefully. "I've let what I have to do, or what I think I have to do, get in the way of what I want to do... of who I want to be with." He looked back up at her, pain in his eyes this time. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry for my own inadequacies." Sara's eyes searched his face, a lump forming in her throat. What could she say to that? She had no response. She wasn't going to lie and say he hadn't hurt her. She wasn't going to lie and say that he didn't have things he could work on. But she accepted him just the same. Sara's hand brushed Grissom's cheek, just a ghost of a touch that sent him recalling a memory of drywall and death. He watched as her face inched closer, and he felt detached, as if he were watching outside of his body, until he felt the warmth of her lips on his. He kissed her back slowly, enjoying the soft feel of her lips. They pulled back to breathe, the tiniest molecules of their lips still touching together before they moved back again. This time Grissom initiated the kiss, pulling Sara's body to his. After a few long minutes they pulled back, settling into each other's arms. "So what now?" She asked, afraid to let go of him and lose the illusion. "I'm not really sure. I'm not used to getting my way." He dropped a kiss on the top of Sara's head, unwilling to move and risk some kind of tragic karma for finally getting something he's always wanted. "Maybe... maybe dinner? I did burn mine, you know." "Ok," Sara said shyly. "I'll um, go change?" She asked without moving... "What are you in the mood for?" She paused, still unsure of herself in this situation. "There's a new Italian restaurant down the street..." "A bottle of white?" Grissom chuckled. "A bottle of red?" Sara laughed back, moving into his arms again. "Perhaps a bottle of rose instead..." They both sang off key. They dissolved into nervous twitters of laughter, locking eyes. Somehow they were both afraid to ever step away from each other, to step away from this moment, because it felt like it would all crumble around them, ceasing to be, and they'd lose any hope of ever getting back here. Grissom stuttered after a long silence. "I'm not... I can't...." Sara put her hand across his tentative mouth, and met his surprised gaze. "Don't tell me what you're not, or what you can't do." She smiled and removed her hand, tracing his jaw. "Just... just tell me what you can do." Grissom stared at her, his eyes wide and his mind moving quickly. What could he do for her that he was sure he'd never stop doing? He smiled. "I'll try." "I trust you," She said, returning the smile. "It is a matter of trust, isn't it?" Grissom rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. Sara laughed a little and held Grissom tighter. |