[This post contains passionate scenes and mentions abuse.] Sara sat cross-legged on the white and red blanket, trying to hide the fact that her dress was exposing all of her underwear by sitting a baby on her lap. She spoon-fed Isabella carrots, while Grissom sat across from her, sipping lemonade. Catherine had her head laid on Grissom’s right calf, and was curled in a light ball, sucking her thumb. Grissom smoothed her dark, short curls and laid his lemonade on the blanket. “Sara,” Grissom said, straightening his shirt, “Do you think two weeks is a good time to get married?” “Getting cold feet, are we, Mr. Grissom?” Sara smirked, and wiped Bella’s mouth with a napkin. “No,” Grissom smiled, “I think it’s too long. I want to do it sooner.” Sara stifled a laugh. “You want to do it sooner?” Grissom nodded. “Do it?” He nodded again. She barked a quick giggle. “Well, okay,” Sara said laughing, and put both babies in their round pillow-chairs. She crawled across the blanket towards Grissom, and a quiet growl erupted from her throat. Her behind in the air, she laid one hand on his chest and pushed, making him fall over. Sara laid herself on top of him and planted a long kiss on his lips. She rolled him on his side, and snuggled herself into his chest. Her think fingers traced up and down the middle of his rib cage, and she shuffled herself up to kiss him again. Sara bit playfully on his nose, and Grissom pulled back. “What are you doing?” “Well,” Sara giggled, “You said you wanted to do it sooner.” “I meant get married.” Grissom raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” Sara sat up, still giggling, “You should have been more specific!” She threw a play punch at his arm. “Ow! Sara,” Grissom said, rubbing the spot where she hit. Sara snorted. “Alright,” she looked up to the sky, a dark shadow casting across her face. Sara rubbed her arms, getting a chill. Catherine started to cry, and Isabella’s eyes got wide. “Gil, it’s starting to rain!” Grissom threw their remaining food in the basket, and Sara picked up the girls. The dark sky then opened up, and a light rain started to fall. Sara ran as fast as she could towards the dark Denali, and wretched open the doors. She buckled the babies securely into their car seats and checked the straps to make sure they were tight enough. Grissom swung around the side of the car and threw the basket and blanket into the open trunk. He swung himself into the front seat followed by Sara in the passenger side. “Well, what a way to rain out our fun day!” Sara pouted, disappointed. “Aww, Sar,” Grissom said, “Don’t be upset. We’ll do something inside.” “But that’s not the same. I used to love picnics when I was little,” Sara’s eyes got a far away look, and she whispered to herself over Catherine’s quiet crying, “When I was little and not afraid.” Grissom looked towards her, not hearing what she said. Sara looked back towards him and smiled a sad smile, so he left it at that. -- “Are you okay?” Grissom drove into their driveway, the rain falling harder. This question caught Sara by surprise. Their whole ride home had been in silence after Catherine had tuckered herself out crying. “Oh,” Sara looked out the window, “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just disappointed about the rain, I guess.” She smiled a fake smile, and unbuckled the girls from their seats. -- Sara turned on the propane fireplace and changed out of her damp clothes while Grissom bathed the girls. Her hair was matted to her head with the mist and rain, and she ran her fingers through it. She was snuggled up on the couch when Grissom emerged from the bathroom with the twins wrapped in a huge yellow bath towel. While rubbing the twins dry, Grissom headed down the hall to the nursery. As Isabella yawned, he checked his watch – 11:34. Time for a nap. He quickly diapered and dressed the girls in matching feetie pajamas and laid them both in their cribs. Now almost five months old, the girls were quite regular in their sleeping patterns. Isabella loved to sleep for as long as possible, while Catherine slept when she was tired and no more than that, like her mother. Grissom slowly closed the doors, neglecting to get the two dropping tired girls their bottles as they were already half asleep. He snuck down the hall carefully, tiptoeing into the livingroom. “Sara,” Grissom sighed, and seated himself next to Sara, who lay drooping on the couch. “Is everything okay?” “Yeah, everything’s just great,” she snapped. She continued to watch the false flames lick up inside the glass of the fireplace, and a warm draft washed over her. “That’s not true, Sara,” Grissom said calmly. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Sara sighed – He knew her too well. “I’d really rather not talk about it,” she rubbed her tired face with an open hand, hoping to remove the look off of it that screamed ‘I’m not alright’. “Please,” Grissom persisted. Something was bothering her and he needed to find out what. “I need to know, Sara. I hate it when you’re sad.” Sara clutched at a pillow lying on her lap. She turned to face him, her eyes burning. “Fine,” she folded her legs under her and leaned her back against the couch. “Fine,” another sigh. “When I was about 5, my mother used to take me on walks in the park. We used to pack a lunch and walk for as long and as far as I could carry myself – Even sometimes she’d carry me, just to keep walking.” “Sara, Sara,” her mother called, her long white pants fluttering in the warm spring breeze. “Come out, come out where ever you are!” Sara giggled from behind a bush. She pushed her hair behind her ears, straightened her overalls and crouched in a more comfortable position. Laura crept in front of tree that was shielding Sara’s bush from view. She snuck around the tree and Sara squealed. “Mommy,” Sara complained, “You found me again!” “Yes, silly,” Laura laughed, “That’s the point of the game!” She walked over to where Sara sat cross-legged on the ground and sat next to her, out of breath from laughing and running. Sara heaved a huge breath and lay back on the grass. She folded her small hands beneath her head and sighed. “Look how pretty, Mommy,” Sara whispered wistfully. Laura lay down on the lush grass and did the same as Sara. “Oh,” Laura gasped. “It is pretty.” The two brunettes, one a miniature of the other, stared at the bright blue sky with puffy blue clouds floating peacefully. Sara reached a tiny hand up, her pink shirt ruffling, and grasped at the air over her head. “What are you doing,” Laura giggled, rolling on her side and propping her self up on her elbow. “Reaching for the sky,” Sara said, mimicking her mother’s position. Suddenly a cool breeze washed over the two girls. Sara shivered and crawled over to her mother, leaning against her blue blouse. A dark cast came over the sky, and small droplets of rain started to fall. A loud booming voice came from across the park, calling “Laura, Sara! Laura, Sara, get over here!” Laura shuddered and sat up, bringing herself to her feet. “C’mon, Sara,” she said quietly, taking the small girl’s hand. “Let’s get our basket. Your Daddy’s looking for us.” Sara whimpered and clutched her mother’s hand tighter, leaning into her side. “Why does Daddy always have to ruin our fun,” Sara questioned, pouting. “Sara Ann,” Laura said firmly, a sad look in her eyes, “Don’t speak about your father like that.” “Sorry,” Sara said, whimpering again.. “And we’d go home,” Sara whispered, tears in her eyes, “And he’d send me to my room and tell me to ‘Stay there until I tell you otherwise’. Sometimes I’d be there for 15 minutes, sometimes an hour. But always he was drunk, and always I’d hear my mother crying.” Grissom sighed and sat up taller, taking Sara’s frail hand in his own. She shuddered faintly and lay back down on the couch. “I’m sorry,” Grissom said, unable to grasp the concept that Sara was abused as a child. More so, he decided not to grasp it, because if he did, he’d never let it go. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before,” Sara snapped. Grissom stood up. “Can I get you anything?” “No thanks, I’m fine.” Sara turned her attention back to the fireplace. “Alright.” Grissom stauntered into the kitchen, dragging his feet. He went to the fridge and stood there, looking into the white light and hoping it held the answers. He furrowed his brow and reached down to the bottom of the fridge, pulling out a long brown bottle of beer. Closing the fridge door behind him with his foot, he popped the top on the bottle and set it on the counter, lifting the cool glass to his lips. He took three long swallows before parting his lips with the rim and laid it down on the tabletop. Grissom’s first time drinking in a long time. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and took another gulp of the cold liquid. He walked back to the livingroom, watching Sara’s intense look, her eyebrow’s furrowed in thought. Many times he’d sit back and watch her, deep in thought. He always thought she looked do beautiful and mysterious when she had this look on her face. She’d hunch her back, fold her arms, her lips would draw into a tight line, and her eyes would become wide pools of brown. Lost in the folds of his fantasy, Grissom didn’t notice when Sara sat up and turned to him. “Grissom,” Sara questioned, annoyed. “Grissom, Grissom!” “Oh, what?” Grissom snapped back to reality at the harshness in her voice. “Pass me that,” she said, indicating the bottle cradled in his hand. Her arm reached across the arm of the couch and snatched the beer from his hand, bringing it to her lips. She pulled her hair out of her eyes and took a deep gulp. Sara wiped her lips with the back of her hand and passed the bottle back to Grissom. She stood up and walked towards him, her brown eyes intense. “You’re so beautiful,” Grissom whispered, setting down his bottle. Sara walked up to him until she was looking into his eyes, only inches from his face. Her hand snaked up his arm and on to his shoulder, around his neck and into his hair. She pressed herself against him and closed her eyes, letting his arm wrap around her waist. Taking his hand up to the center of her back, he pushed gently, moving her closer to him. Sara’s breathing got labored, and her heart started to race. Grissom moved his hand higher up her back and onto the nape of her neck, bringing her face to his. In a swift movement her face was locking on to his, her wet lips joining with his, molding to one. Grissom stepped back, unlocking their lips so he could mumble into her mouth. “I love your personality, and you as a person, and how sweet and kind you are, and what a good mother you are,” he whispered into her lips, “And how interesting and smart you are, and what a good cook you are, and the conversations we have, and I love how complex you are so that I have to figure you out. But you know, Sara,” he said, leading her gently across the livingroom, “It really helps that you’re so damn hot.” Sara giggled into Grissom’s mouth, and they walked towards the bedroom, Sara pushing the door open with her back. Grissom pulled at the hem of Sara’s shirt, their lips remained locked as he pulled it up over her back, breaking the kiss for a brief second as he pulled it over her head and threw it to the floor. Their hearts racing, Sara reached for the buttons on Grissom’s shirt, undoing them quickly. He reached for her belt and undid it, dropping it to the floor with both their shirts. Her hands clutched at his pants, and undid the button. She shimmied down to his knees and let him step out of the legs. Sara stood up quickly and rejoined the kiss as he led her over to the bed. Tossing her gently to the bed, he lay on top of her and held her close to him, kissing her lips tenderly. -- Sara opened her eyes 15 minutes later, breathless. “You’re so hot,” she said out loud, unable to wipe the smile off her face. “You too,” he said back, rolling over and touching her naked shoulder with his index finger. “Really hot.” “You know,” Sara said wistfully, “If I had met you sooner, we would have been together and had a family by now.” “We do have a family, though,” Grissom said, staring at her eyes. “Yeah, but a big family.” Sara sat up, and leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing the first article of clothing she could find. She slipped Grissom’s shirt over her head and felt around for a pair of underwear. “I’m going to go check on the girls,” she said, walking out of the room. “Cathy, Bella,” Sara called softly as she pushed open the door to the twin’s room. “Wakey, wakey girlies!” Catherine cooed softly from her crib and raised her arms. Sara padded over to the far side of the room barefoot, and scooped the small 4-month-old out of her crib. “You know what, Cat,” Sara whispered to the infant in her arms, “In two weeks we’re going to meet Grandma, and Mommy and Daddy are going to be getting married!” Catherine gurgled and smiled as if she understood. Sara changed the infant who was awake, and dressed her in a clean white sailor dress and brushed her fine curly hair, sticking a small navy clip in it. “There, aren’t you just sweet?” Catherine gurgled again. Isabella made a few sharp cries from her crib, and Sara walked to her with Cathy in her arm. “Morning, darling,” she smiled at the little girl lying on a thin white pillow. Sara reached into the crib and lifted Bella into her free arm. “We have to get Daddy in here to take your sister, missy,” Sara cooed to Bella. She yawned sleepily and rubbed at her eyes with tiny balled up fists. “Gil,” Sara called out into the hall. “Gil! Can you come get Catherine?” Sara headed out into the hall when Grissom didn’t respond. She walked out into the bedroom and looked inside, puzzled. When she saw Grissom wasn’t still in the bedroom, she walked out of the hallway and into the kitchen. “Gil,” she called again, “This isn’t funny! Answer me.” Her facial muscles tightened as she looked around, not seeing her fiancé anywhere. ‘Bathroom,’ she thought. She placed Cathy and Bella in their playpen in the livingroom where they set off playing contently with stuffed butterflies and caterpillars, gurgling and cooing to each other in their own language. Sara jogged into the bathroom where she heard the shower running. She stepped across the doorframe into the bathroom and stood on the bath mat. “Gil,” she called again into the shower, “Why aren’t you answering me!” Still no response. Sara walked to the shower and peeled back the curtain. She gasped as the tears came to her eyes, not believing what she saw.
He was shaving off his beard? Wasn't he? haha. no. GET. TO. YOUR. COMPUTER. NOW. AND. WRITE. THE. NEXT. CHAPTER. How could something happen to Grissom just like that? *snaps fingers then realizes that I can't snap* .. well you get the point. The time frame really narrows down what possibly could have happened to him. That means nothing bad happened to him? Right? Right?
“Grissom,” Sara asked timidly. She touched his wet shoulder, and he didn’t move. She touched her face, realizing the hot tears were spilling over her shirt. She climbed in the shower and let the water soak through her clothes as she kneeled down. “Gil,” she wailed, “Gil! Gil, don’t die!” She sat slowly in the shower, the water running over her as she cried. Sara’s rational CSI-mind took over her subconsciously as she left the bathroom, soaked through. She walked with her body, but not her mind, towards the telephone to call 9-11. “9-11, what’s your emergency?” “My husband.. Well, not my husband, my fiancé,” Sara quivered, a chill sweeping over her, “He’s not moving. He’s in the shower, and he’s not moving.” Sara sobbed into the phone, shaking all over. “Ma’am, what’s your address?” “9041 Fredrick’s Street, just off strip.” Sara’s voice quavered. “We’ll send an emergency response team and paramedics over as soon as possible.” “Is there anything I can do? I’m a CSI, I,” Sara stopped. “Never mind.” “Ma’am, stay on the phone with my until the team gets there.” “I can’t,” Sara cried, “I have two babies! They’re starting to cry. Miss, please, I’ll be fine.” Sara hung up and ran over to the playpen, scooping the crying twin into her arms. She cradled Catherine, trying to compose herself. Pacing in front of the door, Sara’s eyes were welling with tears. She tried to sooth Catherine as she cried, clutching at her feet. Sara walked back to the telephone and dialed Catherine’s number at her house. “Pick up, pick up, please pick up,” Sara muttered. “Hello,” came an irritated voice over the phone. “Cath,” Sara cried into the phone, “Can you come over?” “Sara, what’s wrong?” Catherine sighed into the phone, worried. “Gil,” she managed, “I think he fell or something, in the shower, and he’s not moving.” “I, I,” Catherine stuttered, shocked, “I’ll be right there.” As Sara hung up the phone, the paramedics burst into her livingroom. Sara, shaking, pointed to the bathroom, and followed them to the door. Catherine continued to cry loudly, and Sara patted her on the back. One of the men in the suits turned to her angrily. “Ma’am, can you please get that kid out of here?” Sara glared at him and walked away, trying to sooth Catherine’s crying. The door flew open as a flustered Catherine ran in, out of breath. “Sara,” she said, flinging her self at the couch and wrapping her arms around the brunette. “What’s going on?” Sara just pointed as the men walked out of the bathroom with Grissom on a small gurney, with an oxygen mask over his mouth. One of the paramedics pumped the air while running along beside, and two carried Grissom at both ends. They ran out into the hall, and Sara started to cry again. “Cath,” Sara cried, “Can you s-stay here w-with the twins? I w-want to go to the hospital.” Sara flung herself from the couch and ran before Catherine answered, following the three men down the steps, panting and out of breath. “Well girls,” Catherine muttered to the twins, “It’s just you and me.” -- Sara paced out side of the hospital room, wiping effortlessly at the tears streaming down her cheeks. She walked in circles, alternating between sitting down and standing up, walking and crying. “Oh, Gil,” Sara whispered, “Oh Gil.” -- In the emergency room, Grissom lay on his back, unconscious, tubes and wires sticking out of his body all over. The doctors worked feverishly on his operation, trying to repair the damage in his brain. They had no choice, they told Sara, no choice. -- Catherine bounced Bella on her lap, watching TV. Cathy lay on her side, curled up and sucking her thumb. Catherine brushed her hair out of her eyes and prayed silently. “Please God, help Gil through this. Help Sara, and God bless her. Bless these twins, these perfect little girls. Please help him. Please help them all.” -- The surgeon working on Grissom’s head clamped a vein on both sides of a blood bubble. He picked up his scalpel and pressed gently, breaking the vein. He cut the bubble out of the vein and unclamped both sides, stitching as fast as he could. His assistant stood by, monitoring Grissom’s blood pressure and heart rate. Suddenly, the heart rate dropped. 87, 82, 74, 61, 57.. “It’s dropping! We’re loosing him!” The surgeon stitched his final stitch, and began to replace the tiny piece of skull. “Doc, he’s goin’ fast,” called the assistant. “What are we going to do?” “Stabilize him, man!” “I can’t, I can’t!” The assistant desperately clutched the defibrillator in his hands, preparing to do his best. He cried: “Give me 250,” as the patients heart rate dropped to 0. Charging the machine in his hands, he began to panic. He slammed the paddles on Grissom’s chest. “Nothing!” The assistant called: “350!” and charged the paddles. He slammed them back on Grissom’s chest with still no response. “450!” He slammed them once more.. -- Sara’s breath caught in her throat as a man emerged from the emergency room 4 hours later with a somber look on his face. He wiped his hands, not looking up, but walking towards Sara, his lips a tight line. “Ma’am,” the man said, now looking Sara in the face, “It’s about your husband.” “What about him,” Sara questioned, her eyes welling. She didn’t bother to correct him. “He’s made it through,” he said, the only part of his face showing his excitement were his eyes – Green eyes, the shade of emerald. The artificial hospital light made them gleam. Sara squealed, and turned around, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. She put her tired face in her hand and cried slowly, huffing little animal sounds. “That’s great,” Sara exclaimed, turning back to the nurse, “When’s he going to be released?” “Within a week, maybe two,” the nurse said, his tight lips breaking into a smile on half of his face. Sara sighed in relief. It was going to be before their wedding. -- Catherine snatched up the phone, leaning over Cathy who was still asleep on her leg. “Hello,” she answered quickly. “He made it,” came Sara’s excited voice over the phone. “Oh God,” Catherine breathed. “Thank God.” Catherine lifted Isabella from her lap and kissed her on the cheek. “Say hi to Mommy,” she smiled. “Hi baby girl,” Sara sang. “Bella?” “Yup,” Catherine, shaking, put Bella back on her lap. “Oh my God Sara.” “I know! I know. And he’s going to be out in time for the wedding.” “Have you found out what happened?” “No, not yet,” Sara sighed. “But I plan to ask the next doctor who comes out of that room.” Sara looked up. “I’m going to be staying here for a while. It’s probably going to be all night. Would you mind..” “No, not at all,” Catherine answered. “I’ll have Lindsey get the bus over here this afternoon, and she’ll stay with me. I know it’s only one night, but I don’t want her to spend the night alone, and my mom’s probably gone out with Gerald, her new boyfriend. I can’t make her cancel her plans.” “Thank you, Catherine. If you need to go to work, Grissom’s mother is in town, staying at a hotel. Her number is on the fridge. Call her up and ask her if it’s okay for her to come over and watch her granddaughters.” Catherine nodded to no one in particular. “Sure.” “Oh, here comes a doctor. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Bye,” Catherine said, and hung up the phone. -- “Excuse me, doctor,” Sara called out. “Doctor?” “Miss?” The doctor walked down the hall, pulling off his scrubs and motioned for her to follow him. “Were you the doctor who performed an operation on my fiancé?” Sara ran to catch up to him. “Gilbert Grissom?” The doctor walked towards the bathroom and stopped outside the door. “Yes. Doctor, don’t worry, I’m a CSI. I’ve been in a men’s washroom before.” The doctor nodded and continued inside. “What do you need to know?” The doctor washed his hands in the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, and ran his wet index fingers over his eyebrows. Sara snorted as he turned to her, and covered her mouth in a cough. “Why did he fall,” Sara asked simply, crossing her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “He had an aneurysm. That’s when a vein in the brain –“ “Yeah, I know. A bubble of blood forms in the brain and prevents blood flow to the rest of the brain, making it shut down and the vic passes out or falls over.” “Yes, basically.” The doctor raised an eyebrow, “What did you say you did?” “I’m a Crime Scene Investigator.” Sara raised her own eyebrow. “Thank you, doctor,” Sara walked out of the room. She headed down the hall of the hospital and returned to the hard metal chairs outside the emergency room. She sat back down, tired and worried, and rested her head in her hand. She let out a long sigh, and turned her head on the side, letting her cheek lie on her hand. She sat there for about fifteen minutes. It felt like fifteen hours. She felt like she sat a lot. Almost like it was all she ever did. She fiddled with her cell phone and decided to call Catherine and let her know what happened. -- Catherine reached for the phone that was lying by her hip. She hit the talk button and held it close to her ear. “Hello?” “Aneurysm,” came Sara’s voice. “Oh God,” Catherine’s lips tightened. She frowned. “Is he okay?” “I don’t know yet. They haven’t moved him from the emergency room - I spoke too soon. Here he comes now.” Sara leapt from her seat and ran along side the gurney, as Grissom lay not awake in the middle. “Is he conscious,” she asked the hospital attendant, still on the phone with Catherine. “Yes ma’am, fully conscious. Just asleep and sore,” came a voice over the phone. “Good,” Catherine sighed. She fiddled with a toy truck in her hand, the phone cradled between her shoulder and ear. She heard the phone click shut, and hung up the cordless. Cathy and Isabella were both sitting in the playpen, cooing to each other. Catherine had bathed, dressed, changed, fed, and played with the tiny twin girls. She had sung to them, and read to them, and even tried to teach them how to crawl. They watched four “Care-Bear” movies, two “Dora”, and one “Banana’s in Pajamas”. She had run out of things to do. Catherine picked the phone back up and dialed Lindsey’s cell number. No doubt she was in class and would get it taken from her, but she needed to reach her now. After three rings, Lindsey picked up and answered in a quiet whisper. “Hello,” Lindsey’s voice strained. “Hey babe,” Catherine smiled. “I need to ask you something.” “Quick Mom, I’m in socials with Mr. Lambert, he’ll take my phone.” And sure enough, Catherine heard ‘Lindsey, what a nice phone. Who’re you chatting with? A boyfriend?’ “No, Mr. Lambert, I’m a lesbian,” was her reply. Catherine giggled. “Hello?” “Hello, Mr. Lambert. My name’s Catherine Willows, I’m Lindsey’s mother. I’m sorry I had to interrupt your class, but this is urgent.” “Ms. Willows,” Mr. Lambert laughed. “I’m sorry, you should have called the school.” “This will only take a second. You see, my best friend had an aneurysm. He’s in hospital, with his wife, and I’m babysitting their 4-month-old twin daughters. I’d like to get out to the hospital and see them, if only for an hour, and I need Lindsey to come home.” Catherine sighed, watching the twins. “I’ll tell her, Ms. Willows,” Mr. Lambert replied, “And I’ll send her to get her things. Will you be picking her up?” “Yes, I’ll be there within half an hour.” “Good day, Ms. Willows.” “Good day.” -- Sara sat on the edge of the hospital bed, watching Gil sleep. She stroked his face with the tip of her fingers, unable to resist the urge to touch him. His eyes fluttered, and she was hoping he’d wake up. “Gil,” she whispered softly. “Gil, honey?” “Sar,” he grumbled, “Sara, please, no!” “Gil, what is it?” Sara’s heart raced, worry overtaking her body. “Stop. Stop! Don’t hurt her,” he cried in his sleep. His whole body tossed and turned. Sara touched his face again. She pushed his shoulder, shaking him awake. Even in his fitful slumber, he was dreaming of her. But it was a nightmare to watch. “Wake up,” she cried, “Gil, wake up!” His eyes fluttered again, and she threw herself to his chest, sobbing. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” She beat her tired fists on his chest, tears streaking her face and soaking his thin hospital gown. Catherine tiptoed into the hospital room with a bouquet of daisies. Catherine’s jaw dropped when she saw the scene before her – Grissom, badly stitched and bloody. Sara, pounding on his wet chest with her small fists. Grissom, a small tear trickling down his face. Sara, crying his name, telling him to wake up. Catherine walked over to the two, and peeled Sara off Grissom’s chest. The sobbing brunette clung to Catherine, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s neck. She held Sara close and rocked her back and forth, in a kind of sultry dance. Grissom’s eyes opened, the blue colour diluted and murky. His voice scratchy, he faintly called Sara’s name. She turned to look at him, and smiled through her tears. “I missed you,” she muttered, wrapping her arms gently around his neck. “I missed you, too, honey.” Good ? Sure.
Yes good...now post more! Kinda reminds me of the RPG on Lynn's board I started...stroke instead of aneurysim and obviously different story elements but it's a fun thing to play with. *may fic it since the RP's a bit slow now*