♫ michelle ♫ (marcasite) wrote in squaredmc,
♫ michelle ♫
marcasite
squaredmc

csi fic: "of wick that burns slow"

of wick that burns slow, Sara/Grissom, PG-13
This could break her heart or save her. (716 words)
Angst with a pretty twist :), Set Season Four
Thanks for liltoomuch for the read through. It's been ages since I have written these two!




It was a Friday night the first time.

He shows up at the doorstep of her apartment with a bag of takeout and a crooked smile that captures her. She sighs, knowing that this is leading them down a path that would only in end in heartbreak for her. She lets him in with a wave of her arm and as he passes her, she catches the scent summer sun twisted in heartbreak. She thinks it could be addicting.

The silence is oppressive that night, neither one wanting to break the tenuous hold they have. He is everything that she wants, but is nothing he needs and that feeling makes her catch her breath in pain. She wonders why he’s there, if there’s something more he wants to give her.

She hates that she is willing to have even these small moments with him but she knows the truth.

She basks in his closeness, willing him silently to stay, to need her, to be here. In the wee small hours of the night, when the moonlight filters through the windows illuminating his face, she knows that she needs a little bit more from him and isn’t sure how she is going to coax them from him. She loves him as he is, recluse, quiet and thoughtful. But she knows, knows that he is going to break her heart.

And she also knows that she’s going to let him.






It’s a Wednesday when they meet again.

He makes every opportunity a chance to avoid her; having her work with Nick or Catherine. He never stays still in her presence long enough for her to talk to him. He is adept at avoidance, a professional in silence.

Wednesday morning, she sees her chance when he walks by the locker room. She calls out to him, quietly, her tone urges him to stop. She flushes with embarrassment when she notices the hesitation gathering in his stance, his internal debate over her. He finally turns to look back at her, his eyes sliding over face before settling on the wall behind her. Shame floods her, because she wants to ask him to come over, wants him to want to.

So she smiles instead, waving her hand at him, “Never mind. I think I’ve figured out.” He hesitates, glasses sliding down his nose, fingers tugging at the stray sheets of paper in his arms. He nods and turns, moving away from her, away from the insecurity of them.

She’s not surprised when there’s a knock at her door an hour later.

Maybe just a little.






The end of the beginning was a Tuesday; a Tuesday drowning in hazy heat and promises of nothing. A crooked smile at noon, a box of pizza and she experiences a twisted sense of déjà vu. They have been here before and this is the path that would either break her heart or save her. He’ll lead her down the path, not unlike the white rabbit leading Alice to Wonderland.

He winds his hands through her hair and as a sigh slips from her lips, and the warmth of his sweet breath burns her, she knows that she could very possibly follow him anywhere.

In the morning, he starts to gather his things as quietly as he can, intent on avoidance once again. His eyes stray over to her and he smiles ruefully when he discovers her watching. She raises herself up, draping the sheet around her tightly, gathering her courage.

“We can choose now, you and I. Stay with me and let’s see what happens. Go and don’t come back. We can choose but we have to choose something.” There’s no hesitation, no regret in her voice.

“Sara, I…” he stumbles, seeking for the right words. “I want to stay, I just don’t know if I can.”

“Don’t you think it’s worth trying? I think I want to be your friend more than anything in the world and I feel like we’ve lost even that. I’m not asking for more than just try.”

He rubs his hand over his face, clothes gathered tightly in his other arm. Quietly, he drops them on the floor and turns back towards her. Back towards trying.

She smiles in hope, relishing the small, small victory she’s claimed.

.end


Tags: writing: csi fic
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