The Dreamer

'Don't move, Gil' said Sara. 'You've got something on your shirt.'

Grissom looked down at himself. There was a dark stain running down his left side.

'It's evidence' said Sara. 'I'm afraid it'll have to come off' She reached out and began to undo his buttons, sliding her hands down his chest as she did so.

Grissom looked at her. 'This is a dream, isn't it?' he asked regretfully.

'Why do you have to spoil everything?' Sara said petulantly, and she disappeared with a noise like a small sigh.

Grissom woke up. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. He could still feel the pressure of Sara's hands and smell the perfume she wore. Then he rolled over. It felt as if someone had kicked him in the head. The light filtering in through gaps in his blinds and falling onto his wall made his eyes ache. He buried his face in the pillow.

Have I been drinking?

He groaned. Something was definitely wrong with his senses. He could still smell Sara's perfume in the air around him. He shifted slowly onto his right side and pulled the covers over his head very carefully. During this process, he discovered, with faint unease, that he was naked.

What did I do last night?

Grissom opened his eyes just a little to consider. Then he squeezed them shut while his brain processed what he had seen. He opened his eyes again. Sara was still asleep on the pillow next to him. A strand of hair trailed across her face, and her mouth was pursed with concentration at some dream problem.

'Sara! Sara! Wake up!'

'What?' asked Sara crossly, still half-asleep.

'Are you naked?'

'Look for yourself. Go away. It's not time to get up yet.'

There was a pause.

'Wait a minute- Grissom, why are you asking me whether I'm naked? What are you doing in my house?'

'You're in my house. You're in my bed and I can't remember why. But you have to leave right now.'

'I have a hangover. Please don't ask me to move.'

'No, you need to go now. Whatever happened- not that it did happen- but whatever happened -is against the rules.'

'What rules?'

'My rules. Please- please- just-'

Grissom would have carried on arguing, but he fell asleep just then, so he couldn't. He dreamed fitfully of Sara's perfume.

When he woke again, the light on his bedroom walls had moved several feet to the right, and Sara was still in his bed. He could now definitely tell that she was naked. She had rolled over in her sleep and was pressed against him, breasts against his back and one leg looped over his. Her breath tickled the base of his neck. Her easy proximity to him and the way she made him feel terrified Grissom. Ignoring the pain in his skull, he shook himself free of her embrace and scrambled out of bed. Sara mumbled something and covered her face with her arm.

Grissom pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, trying to ignore the clothes scattered across his floor. Sara's shirt lay half across his trousers and her bra was draped over the end of the bed. He realised that he was shaking. He didn't want to have to deal with Sara right now. Why were people so complicated? The Praying Mantis- but for once, the habits of the Praying Mantis seemed vaguely irrelevant. He needed coffee.

He was on his second cup, and the shaking had almost stopped, when Sara walked into the kitchen. The metallic surfaces of his cupboards reflected her pale face and dark hair twenty times. Wherever Grissom looked, he saw her. He felt surrounded by her presence. She had put on one of his t-shirts, and looked even thinner than usual in it.

I never thought that shirt could look so good.

'Coffee, please' said Sara, collapsing onto the chair next to his own. He poured her a mug and handed it to her, making sure their fingers didn't touch. He took a deep breath and tried to forget the fact that Sara Sidle was sitting in his kitchen wearing nothing but his shirt. Grissom cleared his throat.

'Do you remember anything about last night?' asked Sara.

'No. Sara-'

'I've begun to remember. Nick, Warrick and I went out drinking, and then you and Catherine turned up. We ordered-'

'Ah. Those cocktails. Sara-'

'Catherine did a pole dance. Warrick couldn't stop laughing at her. Then I remember walking out to your car. And I remember parts of what we did after that. ' She grinned.

'SARA! I have to say something to you. Stop laughing. I- you - I'm sorry about this situation. You need to know that this is as far as it goes. After you leave, there can never be anything else, and as far as I'm concerned, last night never happened. We were probably too drunk to do anything, anyway.'

'Jesus, Grissom, listen to you! I never thought I'd see you ignoring the evidence. There isn't much mystery about it. We got drunk. We had sex. End of story.'

Grissom choked on his coffee. Most of it slopped out of its mug and spilled down his shirt. He looked down at himself. The coffee had left a dark stain on his shirt. They both stood up.

'You should take that off' said Sara. 'It needs to soak.'

Grissom fought the urge to laugh.

'Is it evidence?' he asked. Sara shot him a very strange look. Then they both reached for the shirt at the same time. There was a brief confused moment when their hands tangled up on its hem and Grissom was stuck with it half over his head. Sara reached on tiptoes to pull it off and ended up with her arm around his shoulders. The shirt fell to the floor with a soft noise that sounded embarrassingly loud in the sudden silence. Sara was still on tiptoes, so Grissom put his hand on the base of her back to steady her. They stood still. Then Sara leant forward and brushed her lips against Grissom's. She drew back and looked at him, a challenge in her eyes.

Grissom pulled her towards him and their mouths met. Those kisses made up for every moment of the five years they had worked side by side without touching.

Without stopping his kisses, Grissom slid his hand up Sara's spine, gathering her shirt up with it. She shook herself free of it and they backed out of the kitchen.

They collapsed on the bed. Grissom noticed that his shaking had completely stopped. 'What will we say at work?' he whispered into Sara's ear, running his fingers down her side. Sara shivered at his touch. Then she laughed and rolled them over so she was kneeling on top of him, legs straddling his chest.

'I don't care. Now, I'm going to pin you down.'