April 18, 2003
His gentle eyes were looking at me. I could feel them. Grey blue orbs probing deep into my soul, like a laser. The image in the lenses of the microscope lost all meaning as my mind zeroed in on my body's reaction to his presence.
I lifted my head and turned to look at him. Our eyes met, and held. He seemed surprised, perhaps of being caught in the act of forbidden admiration. He blinked and looked down a moment, before meeting my eyes once again and coming into the room, toward me. The air suddenly crackled with electricity as he came nearer, his eyes never leaving mine.
He stood beside me a moment as his hand reached out and grabbed the microscope. He said in a low, husky voice - belying his attempt at professional interest, "What have you got?"
His voice cascaded over me, capturing me with its melodious timbre. It took everything for me to pull myself together and remember that we were in a lab, in a public place. With an almost physical effort, I pulled my eyes from his and trained them on the microscope, forcing my brain to remember what I needed to tell him.
And then I saw his thumb. It was slowly moving up and down the shaft of the microscope… so slowly… so gently… My heart pounded in my chest as the thoughts came to me, unbidden: his hand… on me… on my skin… stroking my skin… I groaned, swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
"Uh… the liquid we found in the… uh… car… uh…" the words just wouldn't come. I kept my eyes peeled to the microscope, and away from him. "…it matched the one we found in the apartment…" There, a complete sentence. I'm not such a dolt after all.
"Good…" came his sultry voice, drawing my awareness back to him, but not my eyes. No… I kept my eyes from him. If I looked at him, I knew what would happen. I would get lost again. My heart beat wildly in my chest, my senses overpowered by this man. I could smell him, the pungent aroma of a man in the throes of passion. Wha- Passion? Where did that come from?
Suddenly his face was beside mine. He had lowered himself and now his face was beside mine and now I could feel the heat emanating from his body. My breath caught in my throat. Don't turn around… just don't do it! My eyes did. They turned to look at him, to wonder why he was even closer to me.
He turned his head and caught my eyes. "May I have a look?" he said, not looking away.
I heard the words. I really did. But they meant nothing to me. They were just words. His eyebrow rose – and did his face just come closer?
"Sara?" My name on his lips was like a drug in my system. I love the way he says my name, like it was meant to be there, in his mouth, everyday. "Can I see?"
"Uh… yeah… sure!" I leaned away from him as he grabbed the microscope with one hand – it brushed past my breasts, sending shivers all along my body, causing infinite physical responses to happen beyond my control – and turned it to him. Drawing his eyes away from mine, he brought them down to the microscope.
I closed my eyes, more to keep whatever tenuous grasp on reality I had remaining, and to catch my breath. With his eyes away from mine, my mind began to function, slowly at first but the gears began to move. But his nearness was still a kink in the system and the brain just wouldn't crank up to top speed. My breath came in short shallow gasps of brain-feeding oxygen.
He brought his head up and his eyes once again robbed me of all possible thinking mechanisms. So blue… such depth of soul and intelligence. And hidden just behind that veil, was the passion of a man consumed within his own trappings. Once on a path, it never deviated, but stayed with it, pursuing it until the very end. Only one path was ever offered to him that he had chosen not to pursue. Sara Sidle.
No words were spoken for what seemed like an eternity. His breathing was like mine, short and shallow, his breath tickling my face. His tongue snaked out and licked his lips and instantly my eyes were drawn down to them, now wet and shiny. The rational part of my brain told me it was just the movement that caught my eye, while the other part of my brain hissed differently. Those lips… oh god… to kiss them… to run my tongue over them… to feel our tongues dancing…
I swallowed hard and struggled to bring my awareness back to his eyes. They had changed in that instant of momentary distraction. They were no longer blue. Now they were darker, more like indigo in intensity. His lips parted as a freshness rose in his cheeks, tingeing his normally tanned skin a dark rose.
I could feel my eyelids getting curiously heavy as my own heat singed my skin. I licked my own dry lips, and reveled when his eyes flickered downward before slowly coming back up to my eyes. We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, a moment in time stretched out to its limits. Like a photograph you just can't put down, keeping it in sight and loosing yourself in it. We stared at each other like that. His eyes searched my face, tracing it visually.
I felt his hand on my thigh. He just sorta, placed it there, like a second thought. But it burned a hole in my thigh, his fingers gently pressing in. In a spur of the moment, I placed my hand on his, keeping him there. He seemed shocked at the touch – his hand jerked under mine. But he didn't pull it away. There was an unspoken communication. I could read it in his eyes. He wanted to know… to know. If my voice worked - if I actually trusted my voice to work - I would have answered him. But instead, I let my eyes tell him. Eyes are supposed to be the mirrors to the soul. I wanted him to see mine.
I could see his. This one time, he was showing me his soul, and all its yearnings.
I looked down at his lips, now dry with his breathing. I felt myself leaning forward. Coming closer… and then he spoke, breaking the spell.
"Uh…" he swallowed. "That's… good, Sara. That's… really good…." He stayed there, making no any attempt to move away.
I tried to speak, but my voice croaked. I coughed. "Uh… thanks… Grissom."
He nodded almost imperceptibly, an automatic gesture of reply.
He took a deep breath and looked down, before slowly pushing himself away from me. His eyes came back up to me, a small smile now tipping the corners of his lips. A small wistful smile, or so it seemed to me.
I looked away, shame and embarrassment beginning to creep into my mind.
At the door, he turned. "Sara?" he called my name quietly, as though not to scare me.
I looked up at him, trying to hide that which had replaced my previous yearning. I swallowed against the lump that had appeared in my throat. "Yeah?"
He lips moved, biting his tongue I imagined, as the words fought for release. "Do you want to go for coffee?… on your break?"
I stared at him for a while, surprised by the question. My eyebrow shot up as my mind processed the many reasons possible for his request. They were all summarily dismissed as I followed my heart – and smiled.
"Yeah… coffee sounds good…"