Title: Amber Haze
Author: IrishDachsie
Pairing:
Grissom/Sara
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em…not even Duffy’s…
He stood in the rain, staring at his vehicle.
With a soft sigh, he shoved his keys into his pocket. He turned and took a step
away, his left foot landing in a deep puddle. He took no notice of the water
splashing against his leg.
He walked along the sidewalk, the rain pelting
against him. His jacket hung open, allowing little to no protection against the
dense drops falling from the night sky. His head lowered, he focused his eyes
on the concrete slabs that he was aimlessly following. His hair was drenched,
as were his clothes. Droplets of cool water ran steadily down the back of his
neck, under his collar, and down his back.
He didn’t care.
Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his
pants, his fingers touched his key ring. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the
outline of the Tahoe in the distance. He wondered briefly why he was walking
instead of driving.
Because after four doubles, you’d rather not
take the chance of killing an innocent person tonight.
Oh. That’s right.
He licked his rain-soaked lips and stopped his
movement. He stared at the cars as they drove by him.
I could take a cab…
You should walk.
It’s raining, I think…
Yeah, you should walk.
He shrugged his shoulders as his feet began to
move again. He turned right at the intersection and chuckled lightly.
At least I don’t have to cross the road.
And why, exactly, is that funny?
He had a mental image of him stumbling across
the pavement and into the path of an orange Ford Mustang. He shook his head
fiercely, groaning as the streetlights above him seemed to shine bright neon
beams of light directly into his eyes. He stopped walking, breathing deeply as
he waited for the sidewalk to quit moving. He looked to the street, his eyes
widening as an orange Mustang went speeding past him.
That’s why it was funny…
Walk, Gil…
He nodded to himself and, taking a cautious
step in case the sidewalk decided to shift underneath him, began walking once
more.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She slammed down the phone after reaching his
voice mail for the fifth time and glanced at the clock for the tenth time in
the past three minutes. She paced the length of her living room. On her eighth
lap, she stopped at the window. Pulling back the curtain, she scanned the
parking lot outside of her building. Seeing only one Government-issued GMC
Tahoe, she turned around and began the ninth lap of her living room.
"Where is he?"
She glanced at the clock once more. Her heart
began to race as she felt her anger quickly dissipating.
Maybe he’s still just really angry and…went
home instead.
No…no matter how angry he was, he would’ve
called to tell me. So I wouldn’t worry…
What if he had a car accident? What if he’s at
the hospital? What if he’s lying in a ditch, bleeding to death?
Calm down, Sara.
He’s never late. Never.
Traffic…he got held up in traffic.
Her eyes focused on the clock again. For
two hours?
It IS Vegas…it’s been known to happen.
It’s raining…
He’s okay…
He was angry…
So were you.
But, I am here…he’s not.
It’s your apartment. Not his.
Her shin connected with the coffee table on
her fifteenth trip around the living room. She fell onto her couch as the tears
began.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I really should call Sara…
His fingers reached inside of his jacket and
found nothing. "Shit…"
His mind drifted over various events of the
evening. They had pulled a double. Bad case. She had become emotionally
involved. He had tried to talk to her about it.
He sighed heavily as he turned down another
street and walked through the middle of a puddle stretching across the
sidewalk.
A violent shudder coursed through his body.
She had lashed out at him. She had basically
screamed at him.
"What if it were me lying there? Would
YOU be able to shut your emotions down?"
But…it wasn’t her lying there. It wasn’t. It
wasn’t him lying there.
Though the resemblance was uncanny.
"I’m not like you, Gil. My emotions
aren’t connected to a light switch."
"Neither are mine, Sara…"
"Bullshit, Grissom!"
He had flinched as she used his last name. He
had grown accustomed to her saying ‘Gil’. He felt the sudden anger as he looked
into her eyes.
"If you can’t control it, I WILL pull
you…"
"No, you won’t…you need me on this."
"I have three other CSI’s who are just as
willing to work as you are."
"Fuck you!"
"Go home, Sara."
And he turned, storming out of his office
before she could say another word.
He ran a trembling hand through his
rain-drenched curls. He had sent her home. She was the best one for the case.
She would follow every clue until the truth was found. But, he had sent her
home. Not out of concern for her emotional well-being. But, because he was
angry.
He had left about an hour after her, claiming
a migraine. It wasn’t exactly a lie. His head did hurt. But, his heart ached
more. And instead of going to her, he had found himself in a small bar ordering
doubles.
The bartender had been very nice.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She jumped up and ran to the door after hearing
the tentative knock that could only belong to him. She jerked the door open and
gasped at the sight before her.
"Where the hell…"
She was cut off as his hands grabbed her face
and pulled her to him. She recognized the taste of nicely aged scotch as he pushed
his tongue into her mouth. He took a step forward, easing them both into her
apartment and then kicked the door shut. His hands left her face and travelled
to her hips, pulling her body against his.
Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him
back forcefully. She stared into his eyes as his back hit the door.
"Bastard…" Her voice was no louder
than a whisper.
"Sara…"
"Where the hell have you been?"
His eyes lowered to the floor briefly before
returning to her unfaltering stare. "Duffy’s…"
She smacked her palm against his chest, harder
than she actually intended. "I’ve been worried sick…and…you’ve been at a
fucking bar?"
"I…"
"Shut up!" She turned and limped
towards the couch.
"What’s wrong?" He followed her
slowly.
"What’s wrong?" Her eyes darkened
with her resurfacing anger. "You sent me home. You pulled me from the case
and sent me home. And then you decide it would be a good idea to stop on your
way home and get drunk."
"I’m not…"
"You are, Gil. Not only are you drunk,
but you think that kissing me is just going to make it all better. You don’t
say one word when I open the door, just shove your tongue into my mouth. THAT’S
what’s wrong…"
He swallowed nervously and gestured to her leg
with a trembling hand. "I meant…what’s wrong with your leg? I know the
other things…"
Her gaze dropped quickly. "Nothing…"
"I’m sorry, Sara…"
"What?" She raised her eyes, still
black with a myriad of emotions.
"I…shouldn’t have sent you home. I
shouldn’t have pulled you from the case." He took a deep breath and
exhaled slowly. "And…I wouldn’t be able to control my emotions if it had
been you…"
She huffed lightly. "Well, that’s good to
know…"
"Sara…it wasn’t me…" He took her
hand and placed it on his chest. "It wasn’t me…I’m right here…"
"I know that, Gil. But…it didn’t make it
hurt any less…seeing him…" Her eyes cleared slightly and she tilted her
head. "You’re drenched…"
"I walked…"
"It’s raining…"
"I couldn’t drive…"
"You could’ve called me…"
"I…"
"Where’s your phone?"
He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
"What?"
"I tried to call you…you didn’t
answer…"
"I…left it in the car, I think…"
Her shaking fingers brushed through his wet
hair. "You scared me…"
His eyes focused on hers. "I’m
sorry."
He shivered lightly under her touch as she
placed her hand on the side of his neck. "You…need to get out of these wet
clothes…" She shook her head slowly as he smiled at her. "And…you
need a hot shower."
"I love you…"
"I’ll get some coffee started and when
you get out of the shower…we’ll talk. Okay?"
He nodded gently and stood. He carefully made
his way to the hall, stopping when he heard his name in her soft voice. Placing
his hand on the wall, he turned to look at her.
"I love you too."
He offered her a smile and a wink. "I’ll
be back in a few minutes…"
Hearing the bathroom door close, she sighed
heavily and stood up from the couch. She limped slightly as she walked into the
kitchen. Pulling open a cabinet, she grabbed the canister of coffee.
She felt her anger slip away slowly as she
heard the shower running.
~ End