Sara stands in front of the hospital, sunglasses on against the after noon sun. She really isn’t sure why she’s here, but she has to see him. This revelation really has her frightened. It isn’t the fact that he hadn’t told them. Grissom just doesn’t share his personal life even with her. It is the fact that he had waited so long to have this surgery. The ramifications to his job alone are phenomenal. She moves inside and up to the reception desk.
“I’m looking for a Gil Grissom.”
The woman types his name into the computer, “Fourth floor, Room 409.”
“Thank you.”
Sara rides the elevator up to the fourth floor and easily locates Grissom’s room. The nurse is just leaving.
“I’m sorry miss, but he’s asleep. For some odd reason he’ll only sleep during the day.”
“Yeah, I work the night shift with him. Could I just sit with him for a moment? I promise I won’t wake him up,” Sara gives her one of her hundred watt smiles.
“I suppose that would be alright.”
Sara enters the room and pulls a chair up beside the bed. She holds his hand and rubs her thumb over it gently. “I wonder if he’ll ever let me do that while he’s conscience.” The fatigue begins to catch up with Sara at this point. She, of course, has stayed up longer then this before, but it hadn’t included processing that much street or ten vehicles. She falls asleep with her head on the mattress.
Several hours later Grissom slowly opens his eyes, coming to terms with exactly where he is located. However, all is not right in the world of Grissom. His hand has fallen asleep. He looks over to investigate why and sees a pool of dark brown hair. “Sara!” is all he can think. The temptation to stroke her hair is too much for him to resist and so he indulges. However, Sara begins to stir under his hand.
She tilts her head up slightly to look at him and groggily says, “Hi.”
Grissom looks bemused at the sleepy Sara for a moment, but then his face turns serious, he manages to croak out, “Sara, I can’t hear you.”
Sara quickly sits up the rest of the way. She notes the bandages on his head and prays that’s the reason why. “That’s alright. We can improvise,” Sara signs.
Sara moves to sit on the edge of the bed. The lowness of the chair would have made a signing conversation difficult. They would have had to strain to see each other.
“Since when do you know sign langue?”
His hand then settles lightly on her thigh. Sara almost gives him a weird look, but then he probably would have removed it.
“Since I met you.”
The tension in the room multiplies ten-fold. Grissom sighs and looks down. He didn’t have his glasses to play with; they are sitting on the table beside his bed. He sighs again and looks up, almost wishing that she would walk out like she always did.
“I still don’t know what to do about this.”
“Neither do I,” Sara admits reluctantly.
Grissom gives her a quizzical look.
“I lied,” Oh great, I didn’t come here to back him into a corner. Well, he’s the one that broached the subject.
The moment is interrupted by the doctor knocking on the door. He steps in hesitantly with an interpreter following close behind.
“Aw, Mr. Grissom you’re finally awake,” the interpreter signs for the doctor.
Grissom just looks at him. The man’s obvious cheerfulness is grating on his nerves.
The doctor continues on about what he needs to do at home and when his check-up would be. When the doctor mentions his ride arriving Grissom’s hand, which is no longer resting on Sara’s thigh, forms a “C” against his own.
Sara nods and then her cell phone rings.
The doctor looks very annoyed, “You’re going to have to take that to the waiting area before you mess up the machines.”
Sara exits the room, answering the phone as soon as she’s out the door, “Sidle.”
“Sara this is Catherine. Grissom’s going to kill me, but…”
Sara interrupts her, “I already know.”
“How?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“Alright, but I need you to pick him up at the hospital. Lindsey’s sick and I managed to get the last doctor’s appointment.”
“Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tonight,” she hits end and heads back to the room.
The doctor has left, leaving Grissom to fill out the discharge forms.
“That was Catherine, “ she signs when she gets his attention, “She asked me to take you home.”
Grissom looks puzzled. It isn’t like Catherine to shirk responsibility or to betray his confidence.
“Lindsey’s sick.”
Grissom nods in understanding. “Could you give this to the nurse, “ he hands her the clipboard, “I need to change.”
Sara indicates that she would wait for him in the waiting area.
The ride to Grissom’s apartment is made without conversation. The simple fact is that Sara can’t drive and sign at the same time. They are surprisingly comfortable together despite the conversation that was interrupted in the hospital. The unresolved tension between them has been part of their lives for the past three years. It is just normal to them. Sara pulls up in front of Grissom’s apartment building (I know he actually owns a house, but this is for my story purposes later). She waits for Grissom to decide what happens next.
“Would you like to come in for some coffee?”
“Sure,” Sara responds with a small smile. He’ll invite me into his apartment for coffee, but he won’t take me out to diner at a public place.
They exit the care together. Sara follows him into the building and then into his apartment. He indicates that she should sit on the couch.
Grissom slowly moves through the actions necessary to make coffee. She’s just as confused as you are. Keep repeating that to yourself. You can check reason number one off your list of the whys that prevent you from having a relationship with her. She knows sign language. Your hearing is no longer an issue. Grissom turns the coffee pot on and then returns to the living room area. Sara is sound asleep on the couch. Grissom gently moves her legs so that she is actually lying on the couch. Grissom places a blanket over her and then moves a few errant strands of hair out of her face. He turns the coffee pot off and then goes to empty the contents of his hospital bag.
Around an hour and a half later Sara wakes up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She sees that the television is on with the volume turned down all the way with the closed captioning on. Grissom is sitting on a chair, hunched over the coffee table, with a plate of toast and a cup of coffee. Sara reaches out to touch his knee to get his attention. Grissom sets down his cup of coffee, “You’re awake.”
Sara sits up, “How long have I been asleep?”
“Hour and a half. Coffee, toast?”
“What is coffee toast,” Sara signs with a smile.
Grissom arches an eyebrow and then goes to the kitchen to get her some. They quietly coexist while they consume their food, but Grissom decides that “this” needs discussed before he loses his nerve. “Sara, We need to talk.”
“I thought we agreed that we did not know what to do.”
“Sara, the answer to a problem is not simply agreeing on not knowing what the solution is.”
“It maybe for us. Well, at least for now.”
“Sara, I am not following you.”
“Grissom, we have not been this comfortable around each other for quite sometime. Let us just let it be. We are not a case that needs to be analyzed, solved, and then filed away.”
Grissom nods. She’s right of course. You want to step back and she wants to step forward. Perhaps, it would be best just to enjoy this neutrality.
“How long have you known?” Grissom sings to change the subject.
“Known what?”
Grissom points to his head.
“I found out earlier today by accident.”
Grissom tilts his head to the side a little, encouraging her to explain.
“Can you believe the press actually had the audacity to enter the crime lab today. Big cameras, waving microphones, and all. You left your office unlocked so I ducked inside to avoid them and call security. It is written plan as day on your day planner.”
“What were you doing snooping around my desk?”
“Plain sight,” Sara smiles, “Red ink on an otherwise blank day planner catches the eye.”
Grissom raises an eyebrow, “What was the press so interested about?”
“Big case. Forty-six dead. We still have the street blocked off and a cleaned out gun shop a few blocks down.”
“Evidence?”
“The pieces are falling together. I think Nick made an arrest before Catherine chased us home, but I did not get a chance to take to him.”
“You were not the last to leave?”
“I had somewhere I had to be.”
Their eyes lock.
“I was concerned.”
“Why?”
“You waited.”
“I thought it would go away.”
“That does not make any sense.”
“I know.”
They freeze, still looking into each other’s eyes, connecting.
Sara looks down, breaking the contact, “I need to go. I have to shower and change before the shift starts. I have a lot of work to do.”
Grissom nods and walks her to the door. He has one hand on the door and the other on the doorframe. Sara turns around to give him one last smile. He catches her face, running his thumb down her cheekbone. “Come back later,” he mouths. “I’ll page you,” she mouths back. He lets her go and down the hallway she strides.
TBC