Open Road

Chapter 3

Midway through the second day on the road, Sara relaxed.

It was always the same with these trips - she couldn't feel at ease until she knew she'd traveled at least 24 hours away. That meant that, for at least a whole day, she was free from the troubles of home. Only then could she stop thinking about work, about bills, about the door to her bedroom that kept sticking. She climbed into the passenger seat and stared out the window as Grissom drove.

She wouldn't bring up the nightmare, she'd decided. She told herself it was because it would be taking advantage of his vulnerable position, but in truth she didn't want to hear any of his rationalizations. His voice had quavered with emotion when he'd cried out her name, and she wanted to keep that, to tuck it away with a cold night by a dead pig, a slip of the tongue by an ice rink.

"So what's the best road trip you ever took?" Grissom's voice cut through her reverie like a warm knife through butter.

"They were all pretty good in their own way," she replied, thoughtful. "Even the ones that started out bad ended up okay in the end."

"How so?"

"Well, like. the time we drove through Kansas. There was a sign on the side of the road advertising the world's largest gopher, and my friend Marina was a sucker for that sort of thing. So we got off at that exit, and all six of us piled into this building. We found out that you had to buy tickets to the zoo to see the groundhog, so we did."

"What are Kansas zoos like?"

Sara shook her head, her face grim. "This was no zoo. It was a bunch of abused animals in tiny cages, in hundred-degree heat. There was a deer in a four-by-four cage, chewing on the iron bars because it was so malnourished. a skinny mountain lion covered with flies. and one of the cages had two dead rabbits in it."

"That's horrible."

"Yeah. And the biggest groundhog in the world? It was a hundred-foot statue. The whole thing was a scam, and the poor animals were taking the brunt of it."

"So what'd you do?"

She grinned. "Called the police, the ASPCA, local news affiliates. everyone we could think of. The owners were taken away in handcuffs, and the animals all went to a preserve out in Kentucky."

Grissom glanced at her smug expression and chuckled. "That's my girl."

She waited for him to realize what he'd said, to tense up and change the subject. But he just smiled and clicked on the radio, humming along to "Runaround Sue."

They ate grilled cheese sandwiches at a 50's style diner, then found a small motel. Grissom let Sara take the bed closest to the bathroom.

"You know," he mused, "I slept better last night than I have in weeks. These motel beds are actually pretty comfortable."

Sara nodded. It was easier to let him believe that was the reason.

"When you traveled with all your college friends, did you get a lot of rooms, or did you share?"

"Oh, we shared. We could fit four girls on a queen-sized bed pretty easily."

"Really." He tried to keep the mental images from getting out of hand.

"Yeah. We thought it was all just part of the adventure. Funny what you'll do when you're young. That was. god. fifteen years ago."

Grissom cocked his head pensively. "You were a different person back then."

"Totally."

"Fifteen years is a huge age difference."

He watched as her eyes flashed, first with understanding, then with anger.

"So that's what your problem is?"

"I don't have a problem." He kept his voice neutral and even, avoiding her gaze. But eventually he looked at her, and saw the raw hurt.

"Sometimes," she whispered, "I think your goal is to make me hate you."

He started to reply, but she cut him off as she got into her bed. "I swear to god, if you quote something about hate, I'll kill you and hide your body where they'll never find it."

Grissom frowned. She knew him too well.

The nightmare came just after 3 a.m. It started with the rustling of sheets, then a faint whimpering.

She told herself to ignore it. He didn't deserve her comfort.

"Sara." He called out her name, the syllables thick with horror. "Open the door."

Burrowing deeper under her blankets, she willed herself not to respond.

"Please."

Sara felt a searing pain in her chest when she realized he was crying.

"Please, let her go, I can't. please."

The covers flew off as she hurried to his side. "Grissom?"

He was sobbing too loud to hear her. "No, Sara."

"Griss, it's okay, I'm okay." She sat down beside him, clasping his hand gently.

"No."

"I'm here."

"What?" He sat up in bed sharply. "Sara?"

She couldn't answer. Not because she couldn't think of what to say, but because she'd suddenly found herself buried in his thick chest as he grabbed her in a tight hug. The force of his shuddering breaths shook them both, and after a particularly desperate one he pressed his lips to her hair.

Sara closed her eyes. He smelled like ginger and nutmeg, like the crisp air in late October. It was the peak of summer, but Grissom smelled like autumn.

Eventually, his breathing became slow and even, and she realized he'd fallen asleep. Careful not to wake him, Sara laid him down against his pillow, covering him with a blanket gently. She returned to her own bed, making sure he was in a deep sleep before she let her own tears of frustration fall.

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