Title: Comparison
Author: weirdgirl42
Rating: K+
Summary: Quick post-ep for "The Good, The Bad, The Dominatrix" GSR fluff.
Author's Note: My first CSI fic. I know it's been done but humor me won't you?

Comparison

Grissom walked into the bedroom and sighed softly. The shades were closed against the afternoon sun but enough light shone through that he could see she hadn't changed out of her work clothes before falling into bed. He could see the dried tears on her cheeks.

Catherine had offhandedly given him a brief recap of what she had said to Sara. He hoped the look on his face hadn't given them away but at the time all he could think about was what Sara must think of him. What his going to Heather's house must have looked like.

Bruno looked up at his master from his place curled next to Sara. Grissom could've sworn he saw a look of distain on the boxer's face. As if the dog knew that Grissom had hurt his female owner. Grissom patted his leg gently and Bruno reluctantly hopped down from the bed. As he passed by he looked up at Grissom with a clear message on his face, "fix it."

Grissom wondered why he had never noticed how astute his dog was. He also wondered if his own guilt had caused him to imagine all the messages he had received from Bruno. Shaking his head slightly he turned his attention back to the woman on the bed. Moving around to his side he toed off his shoes and climbed into bed beside her.

"I wanted to be mad," Sara said. Grissom looked over in surprise that she was awake. "I wanted to hate her and be mad at you but I couldn't."

"There's nothing to hate," Grissom replied. "She's my friend and she was in trouble. I don't have feelings for her. I'm sorry if I made you believe otherwise."

Sara turned and faced him. "Do you want to know why I couldn't be mad? Because if what Catherine says is true, and I've got no reason to doubt her, then it makes sense. She's beautiful, she's smart, she challenges you. I get it. I mean I know who I am. I'm not beautiful Griss, and sometimes I think that you'd be happier with someone like her."

Grissom hated himself even more now. He hated that she still questioned her self-worth, her beauty in his eyes if nowhere else. It was further proof that he hadn't done enough to show her what he felt.

"I don't know how to make you understand what I see when I look at you. I can't…I'm not good with…I wish you could see what I see."

"I'm not fooling myself. I've lived my whole life as the awkward girl. Always the friend, never the lover. When you hold me up next to her, I understand why you would choose her."

"It was never a choice Sara," he whispered. "And even if I'd had to make a choice, it'd be you every time."

The lay facing each other in silence for a moment. Though their faces were only inches apart, Sara didn't meet his eyes. Grissom sighed and then reached out to run his hand through her hair. "You read the letter I wrote to you when I was gone didn't you?"

Sara nodded.

"I didn't send it because it didn't seem right to express so much in a letter when I couldn't do it in person. Do you remember the Sonnet at the end?"

"Thy self away, art present still with me," Sara recited.

"It's one of my favorites," Grissom said. "But it isn't the one that fits you the best."

"What is?"

Grissom tilted her head up so she was compelled to look at him. "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;" He leaned forward and softly kissed each of her eyelids.

"Coral is far more red, than her lips red:" Moving his hand from her hair he gently traced a finger over her lips.

"If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;" Moving his hand lower he caressed the very edge of her breast.

"If hair be wires, black wires grow on her head." And then his hand was back up slowly moving through the thick waves of her hair.

"I've seen roses demasked, red and white / but no such roses see I in her cheeks." Leaning forward again he kissed each cheek.

"And in some perfumes there is more delight / than in the breath that from my mistress reeks." He felt his heart jump when her mouth curved into a small smile at this line.

"I love to hear her speak, yet well I know / that music hath a far more pleasing sound." He thought of his month away and how often he picked up the phone to call just to hear her voice, only to realize that it would never be enough to just hear it over the phone.

"I grant I never saw a goddess go / my mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground." Another small smile and Grissom felt all the emotion of the past few days, of the past two years come rushing to the surface. Grasping one of her hands in his he placed her palm to rest over his heart.

"And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare / as any she belied with false compare."

Grissom watched as Sara closed her eyes. The beating of his heart strong beneath her fingers. A single tear escaped from underneath her lid and he kissed it away. "You could do so much better than me. I know it for a fact. And if I ever make you doubt how much I love you," he said, "remember that to me, you are the rarest and most beautiful of women because of everything you are, say, and do."

Sara opened her eyes and her gaze bore into his for a moment before she spoke, their hands still entwined on his chest. "There isn't anything better than you," she whispered.

Grissom pulled her into his arms and for several minutes they held each other as the tension of the last few days slowly drained away. As if on cue, Bruno jumped onto the bed and reclaimed his spot stretched out next to Sara.

The couple released each other and looked over to their tail-wagging bed companion.

"I don't get it," said Grissom. "You move in and with no hesitation you become his favorite. How did that happen?"

Sara grinned. "Animal magnetism," she said. "Haven't you figured that out yet?

Grissom laughed and kissed her palm. "Yes dear."

The End

The Sonnet is #130, my personal favorite.

Please review. I know it was fluffy but it wouldn't leave me alone.