Author’s Note:

The characters of CSI were created by A. Zuiker, and are the property of CBS and its affiliates.  All other characters depicted in this story are fictional; they are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author.  Although the locales in this story are real, all events, incidents and characters are pure invention.  
© January 2003. LSI.  

(Spoiler Warning:  Let The Seller Beware.)

Tongue-Tied

It had been a particularly tiring shift for Grissom.  Not because the cases had been more difficult or horrific, or because someone on his team had screwed up, but because it had started with another confrontation with Sara.   

‘I did it again!’ he thought, sickened by his behavior.

It’s not as if he hadn’t told himself repetitively to stop taking his foul moods out on her.  It’s not as if she were really responsible for them.  After all, she didn’t owe him anything.  Catherine had told him to deal with his feelings, but how was he supposed to do that?  He shook his head.  He didn’t have a clue.  All he knew was that when Sara had not responded to his page for two hours earlier that day, something inside of him had snapped.  

He forced himself to concentrate on the file he was reviewing, but his mind kept wandering back to his earlier behavior.  Had he once again pushed her away?  Would she want to get away from here—from him—again?  He would understand it if she did.         

“Goodnight.”  

Grissom's head snapped up in surprise.  He’d thought everyone had gone home by now.  But there she was, looking lovelier than ever and to his relief, smiling, if a little tentatively.  He tried to return her smile; it was his chance at redemption.   All he needed to do was grab the olive branch she was so clearly offering.   But he failed.  His heart felt heavy.  His life felt empty.          

“Goodnight, Sara.”  Her smile faded, and she started to leave, but something made him stop her.  “Hey…,” she turned to look at him inquisitively.  “Nice work on the high-school case.” 

She rewarded him with another one of her smiles, this one a little brighter.  Grissom started to stare, but suddenly broke eye contact, afraid that if he didn’t, he would betray much more than was safe.  He returned to his paperwork.           

“I’m…uh…sorry I missed your page.”  Grissom looked up, a little surprised to see her still standing there.  “It’s just, um…you tell me to get a life and then I get one, and then you expect me to be there at a moment’s notice.  It’s…um…confusing.”           

He didn’t know what to say.  Sara looked so…sad.  Her eyes bore into his, unwavering, waiting for him to respond.  He looked away.  He needed to think.  He removed his glasses and stared intently at his desk, trying to formulate some kind of response.  Seconds went by, his mind confused, so many thoughts, so many emotions colliding.  He couldn’t make sense of anything.  He looked up, desperately hoping she’d understand…but to his astonishment, she’d gone.          

“What the hell’s wrong with me,” he muttered under his breath.  But no one was listening. Without thinking, he grabbed his jacket and went after her.  He caught up with her in the parking lot; she was unlocking her car door. 

“Sara!”  

She stopped and turned, and waited for him to catch up. “What?” she asked warily.

Grissom didn’t miss the frustration in her eyes. “I…”  He licked his lips, still not knowing how to say what he knew needed to be said.  He took a deep breath and looked away. 

“What is it, Gris?” 

He caught the softening in her voice and looked at her. “I need to explain,” he said, looking into her eyes now. 

“Explain what?” 

“Why I behaved so badly today.  It’s not your fault you know, and I can understand your confusion.”  Grissom paused and momentarily looked away.  “I just didn’t like it when I couldn’t reach you.”  

There, he’d finally said it. 

“Okay…” Sara said curiously.  “So why was that exactly?  It was my day off after all.  I do have a life, you know, or at least deserve one, as you pointed out.” 

“I’m well aware of that,” he said dryly. 

“So what’s the problem?” 

Grissom took a deep breath, not anywhere closer to figuring out how he was going to explain himself.  Sara’s frustration visibly grew. “This is not easy for me,” he said, and to his relief she nodded in understanding.  It gave him the courage to go on.  “There’s this thing that’s been happening between us, I think…” his voice faltered.  What if he’d been mistaken about her feelings? 

“Yes…” she smiled a little now, urging him to go on. 

“And it can’t go any further.” 

“What?” she said, incredulously.  “What is it you’re afraid of, Grissom?” she asked, her voice rising.  

Grissom looked around, glad there was no one else in the parking lot.  “Is it the fact that you’re my boss?” 

“That’s part of it,” he said quickly.  “And—“ 

“Does our age difference make you uncomfortable?” she continued without giving him time to answer. 

“Well, as a matter of fact—“ 

“Or, maybe you’re afraid of getting hurt.  Is that what’s—“ 

“It’s too late for that,” he snapped, surprising himself by his admission, but it did silence Sara.  She looked at him questioningly, but even if he’d been able to find the words, he didn’t want to explain.  He shook his head and stared at his feet.  She didn’t insist this time.  Instead, she turned, got into her car and left.  He watched her go. 

 ~ * ~

“Tough day, Gil?”  

Grissom turned.  Catherine wore that small wry grin of hers, mixed with a hint of concern.  It told him she’d witnessed some of what had just happened, and she wasn’t going to leave it alone.  He liked Catherine. She probably knew him better than anyone, but he wasn’t at all certain he wanted to have this discussion. 

“Hi, Catherine,” he said feeling more tired than he’d felt in a long time.  “How long have you been standing there?” 

“Not long…” she said.  “But long enough.”  She paused.  “Look, I won’t pretend I completely understand you, Gil.  You often puzzle me.  But I have been studying you for a long time now, and I think I’ve come to figure some of you out.  I do know you’re in love with her.”

Grissom looked up, surprised.          

“Sara,” Catherine specified, as if he didn’t know who she was talking about.  “Listen, I don’t know how or when all this happened, but it’s obvious to all of us.  Am I right?” 

Grissom fidgeted, but didn't say anything. 

“Okay, you don’t have to answer that.  But if it makes you feel better, she’s in love with you too.” 

He looked at Catherine now.  “No she’s not.” 

“You don’t believe that, Gil.  That’s what scares you the most, isn’t it?  The thought that she returns your feelings.  Because then, you’ll have to deal with them won’t you?”  

Grissom shook his head and gave in.  He grabbed Catherine’s elbow and stared at her.  "I can recite Shakespeare as if I’d written it.  I can interview a suspect and manipulate him into confessing to a crime that will put him away for the rest of his life.  I can go head to head with Ecklie and come out the victor.  But with her, it’s…God, I get all tongue-tied.  I feel like a teenager on a first date.” 

Catherine smiled.  “All thumbs?  She does love you, you know.” 

“I’ve been her mentor for a lot of years, I think she’s a little infatuated with that.  I’m not so sure I’m who she needs… long term.”         

“You think too much.  You’re going to end up not having lived, Gil, because you think too much.”         

He pondered her words briefly, and then said, “You’re probably right.  Thanks Catherine.”

“You’re welcome.  I’m off.  It’s been a long day.” 

Grissom watched her go, suddenly uncomfortable for having revealed so much to her, and at the same time, in awe of her perceptive nature.  There was more than an element of truth in everything she'd said, and he thought about it long and hard as he drove aimlessly around the city.  

The sky was grey, and the guy on the radio was putting out a lightening storm warning.  He switched stations to one that played classical music and didn’t give a damn about the weather.  He didn’t need a guy on the radio to tell him what the sky was already telling him.

Catherine always seemed to know exactly what he felt, he thought now.  Did Sara know too?  He hoped not.  That would make him look pathetic.  He drove some more.  It was early in the day, but with the low clouds covering the sky, it looked more like late afternoon.  He wondered if Sara was home, and if she was, if she was alone.  He knew about Hank now.  Not that that should have changed anything.  He’d known for a long time, even before Hank, that his feelings for her were developing into much more than friendship.  He hadn’t acted on them then for good reasons, so why did the thought of her with this Hank guy make him so crazy?

When he hadn’t been able to reach her for two hours earlier that day, he’d just known she was with him, and he hadn’t handled it very well.   He’d reacted very unprofessionally, and he’d hurt her again.  He had to get his feelings in check, before he did something truly stupid.

So why had he driven to her place?  To apologize?  He stopped and looked up at her window.   That’s what he didn’t like about these odd feelings raging inside of him.  They made him weak.  They made him do things he knew would come back and bite him.

He got out of his vehicle, still looking up.  He saw a faint light in her window, which told him she was still up.  He could just stand here for a while longer, then leave, go home, and life would be back to normal tomorrow.  He could just— 

The sky opened.  Without thinking, he ran to the front door and went inside so he wouldn't get drenched.

~ * ~

“Hey, Hank, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep.” 

“Are you ok now,” he asked Sara.  “You’re not going to up and leave this city?” 

“No, I’ve got it under control, Babe.  He just drives me nuts sometimes.” 

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?  You guys have been doin’ this dance for a while now.” 

“I can’t.  What if I’m mistaken?  I'd look like a fool.” 

“What if you aren't,” Hank says simply. 

Sara knew he would have liked their relationship to be different, but she’d never led him on.  She’d been honest about her feelings for Grissom from the beginning, and as a reward, Hank had been there to lend a friendly ear when she’d needed it.  It had kept Sara sane on many occasions. 

Hank stood now and grabbed his jacket.  “Ok, good night, sweetie” he said as he reached the door.  He bent to kiss her on the cheek.  As his hand touched the knob, someone knocked. 

“Who can this be?” Sara said, looking out of the peephole.  Shocked, she took a step back.  “It’s Grissom.  What’s he doing here,” she whispered. 

“I wonder,” Hank whispered back, sarcastically, “but one thing’s for sure.  It’s definitely time I got out of here.”  

Grissom knocked again.  Hank stepped back, and Sara opened the door.      

~ * ~

Grissom saw Hank second.  ‘Shit’, he thought, he should have called first.  He was about to make a colossal fool of himself.  Think, Grissom.  Think! 

“Hi, Gris,” Sara said, his name catching in her throat.  Was she as embarrassed as he at this moment?  Maybe.  Then something unexpected happened. 

“Hey, Mr. Grissom.  I’m Hank.  Nice meeting you, finally.”  Hank extended his hand.  Grissom shook it.  He then turned to Sara.  “Gotta go, babe,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Catch you later.”  

Grissom turned to watch him leave.  He turned back and looked at Sara, puzzled. 

“Come in,” she said simply, and closed the door behind him. 

“I… um…didn’t interrupt anything?” 

“What did you expect?" she asked, a little annoyed.  "You’d catch me in bed with Hank, then you’d be off the hook?” 

Grissom's eyes narrowed on her face.  What the hell is she talking about?

“Relax.  Hank’s just a friend.  I could have told you that a long time ago if you’d bothered to ask.”  Sara moved to the kitchen.  He was still standing by the door. “Come in,” she said.  “Do you want some coffee?” she offered, but didn't bother waiting for his reply as she filled the carafe with water.  

Grissom sat on a bar stool and watched her closely.  She’s upset, that’s obvious.  She’s been crying, he could tell.  He felt like shit. 

“There’s so much I wish you knew without me having to say it,” he finally said.  Sara stopped and stared at him, her delicate brow wrinkled in confusion.

“I know this is hard,” she finally said.  “It’s hard for me too.  But it doesn’t have to be impossible.” 

“No, it doesn’t.  It’s just very difficult for me.  I don’t know how to deal with this.” 

He watched as she skirted the counter island and came to stand in front of him.  “I asked you earlier, Gris, what you’re afraid of?”  

He shook his head, sighed.  “I’m afraid of all those things you said, Sara.  I’m your boss.  I’m way too old for you.  But I’m mostly afraid that what you feel now is just an infatuation, and that someday you will need something… someone else.”  

Sara smiled, that 100-Watt smile that always exercised his heart. 

“Do you love me?” 

He nodded and let his head drop, even now unable to say the words.  When she touched his cheek, her hand warm and gentle, he looked at her again.  She was still smiling.  “I get very tongue-tied around you,” he admitted.  

"Mm..."  She moved closer, cupped his face between her hands, and just before pressing her lips to his, she said, “Then, let’s take care of that tongue of yours once and for all.”

Grissom pulled her against him and kissed her deeply.  It must have worked, because soon after, he broke the kiss long enough to say:  “Sara Sidle, I love you very much.” 

The End