Open Road

Chapter 2

They'd agreed to meet at nine in front of Sara's apartment. At five past, she started loading the trunk of her car with bags. At quarter past, she lugged a cooler full of ice and sodas into the backseat. By nine-thirty, she was biting her nails, wondering if he'd stood her up.

When Grissom's car appeared on the horizon, she sighed with relief. He parked next to her and hopped out, looking apologetic.

"Sorry I'm late," he said nervously. "I stopped to pick us up some breakfast." He handed her a tall container of green tea and an egg sandwich.

She blinked, surprised at his thoughtfulness. "Oh."

"I was almost to your apartment when I realized they'd put ham in your sandwich, so I had to go back," he explained.

"It's okay, really." She scuffed her foot against the pavement. "Thanks for the food."

He retrieved his suitcase from his car, wedging it into her trunk. "I went shopping last night for road trip supplies."

"Such as?"

"Atlas, road maps, tool kit, emergency flares." He unloaded each of the items onto the ground. "And for amusement purposes I got travel board games and crossword puzzles."

Sara hid a smile. "You just couldn't stand to fly by the seat of your pants, could you?"

"Well. I've never been a see-what-happens kind of guy, I guess."

"So I've gathered."

He flinched slightly, recalling the night she'd asked him to dinner. "You sure you want to do this?"

In truth, she wasn't sure. The prospect of spending four weeks crammed into her car with Grissom was terrifying. But it was also ripe with possibility. There was no way that two people with such a strong attraction could spend a month together without addressing it. Eventually they'd have to come to a decision, and that knowledge alone gave her the strength to nod.

"Let's go."

She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to start a road trip. Butterflies of anticipation, tingles in her fingertips. Her apartment became a speck in her rear-view mirror, and she drove toward the horizon.

"Okay, I need." Sara scanned the crossword puzzle clues. "A four-letter word. Clue is: Marian Anderson. Ends with an O."

"Alto."

Grissom had taken over driving after lunch. They'd agreed upon four-hour shifts, with the understanding that the driver could stop earlier if fatigue set in.

"You sure? I thought Marian Anderson was a contralto."

"She was, technically," he conceded. "But I doubt the crossword writer knows the difference."

"Okay." She filled in the letters, then moved on to other clues.

"Can I help with any more?"

"Not really. This puzzle's pretty easy."

He chuckled. "Maybe we should dig out the advanced book for you."

"It's just that the theme of this one is musical puns."

"Such as?"

Sara pursed her lips. "Such as. okay, the clue for this one is: tumbling marijuana consumers."

He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Rolling Stoners," she grinned. "And this one's clue is: tiny Armstrong and Diamond."

"Something with Neils. Nine Inch Neils?"

"See? Easy." She filled in a few more squares. "Finished."

"Well that's no fun," he pouted. "Now what are we supposed to do?"

"Talk about our innermost feelings?"

His eyes grew wide with panic. "Um. I think my phone's ringing."

"Relax, Griss, I was kidding."

"No, I mean it," he insisted. "My phone's ringing." Sure enough, the chiming became more audible as he fished the cell phone out of his pocket.

Sara rolled her eyes and leaned her head back, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "typical."

He flipped open the phone. "Hello? Oh, hey, Catherine. no, I can't. I'm actually taking the next month off. no, I'm serious. stop laughing, I'm serious. Yeah, I'm just, you know, relaxing."

Sara listened with interest, wondering if he'd tell Catherine where he was.

"No, I can't do something later, I'm on the road. yeah, I'm going away for the month." He glanced at Sara. "Listen, Cath, I've got to run. Warrick's pretty good with the insect timelines, see if he can help. I'll talk to you later." Grissom clicked the phone off and shoved it back in his pocket.

"Catherine?"

"Yeah," he replied, shifting uncomfortably. "Swing shift got called in early. High-profile case with an indeterminate time of death. She was hoping I could do an insect consult."

"Work your bug magic."

"Something like that."

She eyed him speculatively.

"What?"

"Just wondering why you didn't tell her where you were."

"I don't know where we are," he retorted, feeling a hot flush on his neck. "Isn't that the whole point of the road trip?"

"Yeah." She nodded, flashing that infuriating smile that told him she knew exactly what he was doing. Even if he didn't.

"Where are we, anyway?"

"I don't know where we are," she said softly, and he wondered if she was referring to the road.

Years of working the night shift caught up with them, and by eight they were both exhausted. Sara pulled the car into a Motel 6, and they dragged their suitcases to the booking window.

"Smoking or non?" The clerk asked, chomping on a large wad of gum.

"A nonsmoking room with two beds," Sara replied.

Grissom huffed out a sound of surprise. "Whoa whoa whoa. who said anything about sharing a room?"

"Excuse us for a second," she said to the clerk. She led him a few feet away. "Are you rich, Grissom?" she hissed quietly.

"What?"

"Are you rich? Because we're traveling for a month. That's 28 days. If we stick to motels, it'll average around 50 bucks a room. That's $1400. If we get two rooms, lodging alone will run us $2800. Add in food, gas, and tolls, and we're over five grand. I don't know about you, but I'm paying a mortgage on a CSI's salary. So I ask again, are you rich?"

He swallowed. She was kind of scary when she got mad. "Point taken. One room is fine."

"Thank you."

They took turns using the bathroom. Grissom laid his toothbrush on the sink next to hers, and felt an odd tingle in the pit of his stomach. So this was what cohabitation with Sara would be like.

She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. She dreamed of driving, of endless roads, of movement.

"Sara."

Her eyes popped open, adjusting to the darkness.

"Grissom?"

"Sara..."

She sat up, looking over at Grissom's bed. His eyes were closed tightly, and he was breathing raggedly. Sara got up and stepped toward him cautiously, unsure of whether or not to wake him from the nightmare.

"God, please," he said hoarsely. "Open the door." His fists clenched.

"It's okay," she whispered, stepping closer.

"Sara.."

"I'm out, it's okay."

Grissom murmured a little in response. His breathing slowed, and he fell back into deep sleep. Sara watched him for a moment, then crawled back into her bed. She hugged her pillow to her chest and closed her eyes. She dreamed of movement.

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