Since I Met You - Chapter 18
Aug. 17th, 2007 11:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lizwontcryTitle: Since I Met You - Chapter 18
Author: Butliz
Rating: Teen
Spoilers: Everything through 7x24
Disclaimer: I so don't own them.
Summary: Sara's mother is sick, and Sara feels like she's finally ready to face the past. But how will that effect her future? A look at Sara and Grissom's past, present and future. As always, thanks to the tireless beta-ness of GSFanatic.
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
A/N: 2 more chapters left, boo! Also, with this chapter, the story is now over 50,000 words and would probably qualify as the longest story I've ever written. I've participated in Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month for the uninitiated) 4 times, but they never went much over 50,000 words. The point is: I'm proud of my little story, and if you like it, a girl never gets tired of some feedback.
As always, thanks to my awesome beta GSFanatic.
One more thing: if the ending seems a little abrupt to you, I'd like to direct you to the first 2 chapters which pretty much deals with the aftermath.
Vegas, year seven
For the first time since she came to Vegas, Sara was finally feeling like she hit her stride. She was striving in her career and managing to not get too deeply engrossed in office politics. Her colleagues were amazing and she enjoyed spending time with them on and off the clock. And she was in a relationship with the man she loved. In fact, she finally let herself believe that she was happy, a feeling so rare that she once resigned herself to never feeling it again. That was before she was kissing Gil Grissom on a daily basis, though.
Seeing the first miniature was frightening. Sara had seen serial killers before; she was single-handedly responsible for taking down a notorious killer in San Francisco. They called him the Silk Stalker, because he would only target women who wore stockings. So the concept of a serial killer didn't scare her; it was the freakishly accurate detail in the miniatures that terrified her.
But nothing scared her as much as when Greg took the beating of his life. Greg had been through a lot in his years in the lab, and now as a rookie investigator he was unfortunately involved in the murder of a young black man. Greg just happened to drive by a mob of people beating up one innocent man. Greg tried to stop the beating only to become a victim himself. Demitrius James, one of the members of the mob, was certainly going to hurt, if not kill, Greg if he didn't make a decision fast. Greg ended up running into Demitrius with his S.U.V., and Demitrius later died.
As soon as Sara heard, she rushed to the scene of the accident. She saw the man Greg ran over, Demitrius. She saw the man the mob was beating to a pulp when Greg showed up on the scene. They both had medics attending to them. And then she saw Greg, who was alone, bloody and beaten.
Sara found Sofia and asked her why nobody was attending to Greg. It's not that she didn't like Sofia, she just preferred that Sofia didn't exist, and it was annoying Sara to see Greg all by himself.
"He's been stabilized. Sara, he's going to be okay," Sofia said.
Sara rushed over to him and kneeled down to touch his head. His eyes were closed and she wasn’t sure if he was conscious or not.
"Sara..." he said, keeping his eyes closed.
"I didn't know you could see me," Sara said.
"I can't, but I know that Sidle scent."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment."
Greg had also been injured in the lab explosion 3 years earlier, and when Sara came to visit him, she was shocked to see how burned and bruised he was. This man that was normally so happy and energetic and funny looked so beaten, the life burned right out of him. He came back from that accident; would he come back from this one?
He told Sara that he scratched one of his attackers, and one of them might have spit on his vest.
"You should process the scene now," he said. "Me later."
"I came here for you, Greg," she said.
He smiled appreciatively. She took his hand, and they stayed there like that, him lying on the ground, eyes closed; and her, sitting next to him, running her fingers through his hair.
When Greg made it to the hospital, Grissom went to see him. Later, at home, he and Sara sat on his leather sofa and talked about it.
"You know he never told his parents he wasn't in the lab anymore? His mother is apparently very overprotective," Grissom said thoughtfully.
"I didn't know he never told them, but I knew his mom was overprotective. He said that the first time he told his mom he went out in the field, she yelled like he never heard her yell before. I think it's nice, actually."
"Are you going to be an overprotective mommy?" He teased her, smiling.
He'd been doing that a lot lately, referring to kids and sometimes marriage, and it was always when she was least expecting it. She was so used to him giving her the cold shoulder about anything other than work for so many years, that when he actually admitted that he thought about these things, it was kind of shocking. She was pretty sure he liked catching her off guard like that.
"I have no idea what kind of mommy I'll be. I haven't really thought about it."
"You're a nurturer, Sara, you'll be a great mom."
She had no idea what to say that wonderful, generous compliment, so she changed the subject. "I can't believe those monsters were wearing costumes. What is happening to this world, Griss? People are beating each other just for fun now? I just don't get it."
He didn't say anything, just held her closer to him. It was something she was really starting to love about him - he always seemed to know when she needed him to comfort her and when she just needed him to hold her.
*************
But then the second miniature came, and then the third. Grissom became a little more obsessed with each one, and Sara could feel him slipping away from her. All the hard work she did to bring him to this point, the point where he was actually starting to thrive in this relationship, was starting to be for naught. It was frustrating, and Sara didn't know how she could get him back.
She knew there was a problem when she stopped by his office after a long day in court. She sat on the bench all day, waiting for her name to be called, and it never was. It was the most mind-numbingly boring day she'd had in a long time. But it was over now, and she'd been looking forward to seeing him. It helped that she looked good, and she knew it. He, however, seemed to be in another world - a world that most likely didn't include her.
"I heard the guys solved a double murder," she said.
"Mm-hmm," he said distractedly.
"I spent the day sitting on a bench outside the courtroom; they never got to me."
"That sucks," he said. She kind of wanted to shake him. She kind of wanted to yell, "Hey, remember me, your girlfriend? The one who has been patient for 7 years and now that patience is beginning to fade, Mister?!"
Instead, she said, "Feeling transcendental?"
"Hmm?"
"Thoreau," she said, looking at his book, Walden. "I, uh, I haven't read him since college."
"Me, neither. It holds up. 'I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.'
Well, that describes him to a tee, doesn't it? She found herself thinking bitterly. She wanted to tell him where he could put that pumpkin.
She looked down at a clipboard that had his daily crossword on it. They would often work on crosswords together when they had a little time at home; it was one of their favorite activities to do together.
"Oh, look, you missed one. Sixty-three down. Misanthrope."
He just looked at her, probably wondering what was going through her head.
"I won't wait up," she said, leaving his office. On days she didn't sleep at her own apartment, which were many, she would usually head to his townhouse at least an hour before he was done for the day. She had a feeling she'd be waiting for a while today.
*************
She really should have seen the sabbatical coming. In reality, she wasn't that surprised when he told her he was leaving. The miniature killer turned out to be one Ernie Dell, who confessed his actions on video to Grissom. While Grissom watched, Ernie Dell blew his brains out on that video. As soon as Sara heard that, she knew Grissom was going to need a break.
"I'm going to Massachusetts," he blurted out one day over a late lunch. "I'm leaving next week. I'll be gone for a month."
Even though she knew he needed to get away for a little while, she didn't know it would be so far away. Or for so long. Or without her, for that matter.
"Oh," she said, not really knowing what he expected her to say.
"They offered me a seminar on Thoreau, and I took it. I know you realize I need to get away from here, Sara. I just don't want you to think that I need to get away from you. It's not you. I just need...out."
There were many things she could say at this point, but none of them really seemed to matter. He was going to leave. He needed out. And he didn't want her to go with him. Clearly he needed time away from her. She tried to look at it rationally...if time was what he needed; time was what he would have. It wouldn't be beneficial to either one of them if she had a girly fit about it. And maybe he'd realize a few things while he was gone. She was counting on it.
"Okay. Have fun."
He sighed.
"Sara, come on, I know that's not all you have to say about it."
"Yes, actually it is. You need to leave? Go. I'll be here when you get back."
He smiled and kissed her.
"Thanks, Honey. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
He was always saying he'd make it up to her, and he always would for a while. Until the next time he promised to make it up to her. She wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever really keep that promise.
**************
His taxi had arrived. He told the driver to wait 5 minutes; he had something he needed to do.
Roaming down the halls of the lab, he looked for the only person he wanted to see. He found Sara in the locker room, putting her jacket away.
"Hey," he said, watching her closely. "My cab's here."
"So, you're going?" She asked.
"Yeah."
"I'll see you when you get back."
He wanted to do a lot of things right then. He wanted to close the door to the locker room, pin her against the locker and kiss her. A lot. He wanted to take her hand, lead her to the cab, go to the airport and take a plane to Brazil instead of Massachusetts. What he most wanted to do was cancel the cab and stay with her, only her, all the time, but he couldn't. He had to get out. He had to think.
So he just said, "I'll miss you."
She only nodded. He left her standing there, wondering what happened between the two of them.
There were many reasons why he felt he had to take this seminar opportunity. One, he hadn't been offered a seminar in a long time and he was honored. Two, the miniature killer case nearly broke him. Finding out who was responsible for the miniatures had been hard enough, but watching Ernie Dell take his own life right before his very eyes was just...too much. Nobody should have to see that in their lives, and now he'd seen somebody kill themselves twice.
Ernie Dell had gotten into his head. Especially because Grissom understood the miniatures. He appreciated the exquisite detail that went into making them. He was almost sympathetic to a killer just because the miniatures were nothing like he'd ever seen before. It was completely maddening. And there was something else, too. Something about Ernie completely threw Gil off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it didn't seem like that guy could pull off the detail of the miniature crime scene. He never told anyone because the proof was real; Ernie killed himself to get out of paying for what he'd done. But Grissom still thought there was something not quite right about it all.
The third reason was more complicated. He loved Sara, deeply and truly and faithfully. But this love was scaring the bejesus out him. She very nearly lived with him, for one thing. Coming home to her; opening the door of his townhouse and seeing her on the sofa watching an old movie or a documentary on the Discovery Channel gave him a happiness he never knew existed. But it was also strange to have someone around all the time. He wasn't used to that. When it came down to it, he wasn't used to being in love, and he needed to figure out what the hell he could do about it.
Massachusetts was cold. It was snowy and cold and all he could see when he looked out at his students was Sara. Sara, the young fiery college girl that came to his seminar as a student and left as a friend. He looked for students at his seminar; he looked to see if any of them had the spark Sara had. None of them did. And it made him miss her so much it hurt.
Yet he didn't call her. There were so many things he wanted to tell her that picking up the phone seemed entirely overwhelming. He had no idea what kind of damage he was causing to the relationship, but he knew in his heart she would understand. And then he just felt like a bastard for knowing that she'd understand. Isn't that what their relationship had been about from the very start? It was a problem, and he was going to have to change.
He did write her a letter. He sat at his desk the school provided him and he wrote her a long letter, complete with a Shakespearian sonnet.
I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you. Even though we're far apart, I can see you as vividly as if you were here with me. I said I'll miss you, and I do. As Shakespeare more ably wrote my sentiment in Sonnet 47, Thyself away art present still with me; For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move, and I am still with them. Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight, Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight."
Happy with his letter, he folded it and addressed the envelope. But then he thought better of it. He was going to send it with the cocoon; he knew she was going to love that cocoon. But what good would the letter really do? If he couldn't even talk to her on the phone, would she really appreciate getting a letter saying the things he couldn't say to her face to face or through the phone? He couldn't do it. Maybe he'd show it to her someday. Maybe he'd tell her instead of show her. Maybe he'd do a lot of things, and then again, maybe he wouldn't.
*********
After a long, cold month of teaching disinterred students about mosquitoes and Walden Pond, Grissom came home. What he wanted to do was get off that plane, find Sara and give her the best sex of both their lives. But he knew she wasn't exactly going to be happy with him. He also hadn't counted on Mike Keppler and the drama he was currently inflicting upon Grissom's CSIs.
Mike Keppler filled in for Grissom while he was gone, and he brought a whole plethora of secrets with him. When Grissom got back to his office, he found Catherine a complete mess and the rest of the team out on a scavenger hunt to find what Keppler had been hiding.
And he couldn't find Sara. He couldn't wait to see her, even if he did look a little scruffy. He didn't shave while in Massachusetts and his beard was quite impressive, he thought. He lost a little weight from walking everywhere. He felt good physically, and now all he wanted to do was find Sara and tell her all the things he'd been meaning to say.
While he was looking through his gigantic stack of mail, he finally saw Sara walking down the hall. He nearly ran out of his office.
"Sara!" He kind of yelled, not even caring about who was around to see their reunion.
"Hey, you're back," she said, and for the first time he noticed she was a little...well, dirty. And smelly. And it was completely endearing and lovely and he wished they were at home and not in the hallway at work.
"Yeah," he said.
"Uh, I've been out at a, um. I've been at a..."
"A garbage dump?" He said, smirking just a little.
"Yeah." She was backing away from him, clearly not wanting him to smell her or even really look at her. It was cute how self-conscious she was being, but seeing that all he wanted to do was touch her, it was also very frustrating.
"It's so obvious, isn't it?" She took a good look at him, and he guessed she was just noticing the beard. "Nice, um...you look good."
"Did you, uh, put the cocoon in my office?"
"Cool, dry, not a lot of light; Seemed like the right place for it."
"I think you're going to be surprised when it hatches."
"I have no doubt," she said. "I'm gonna go clean up now."
He stopped following her, and she slowed down.
"I'll see you later," he said.
"Yeah, you will." And then she was gone. He had no idea what to take from that conversation. Was she mad at him or not? Did she still love him? Was she going to be mad at him? He didn't know, but didn't have time to think about it, either.
The Keppler drama boiled over, and Grissom found himself a few hours later at a seedy motel, watching a crazed Catherine sob over Keppler's body. Whatever Keppler had been involved in, it was over now. Grissom held Catherine and pulled her away from the ambulance that took Keppler away. He didn't know what feelings she had for the man, but she certainly felt something.
Grissom took Catherine home. She tried to pull herself together in the car so she wouldn't be a wreck when she came home to Lindsey.
Grissom told her, "I'm sorry, Catherine. I know you've been through a lot this year, and I wish this didn't happen to you, I really do."
She hugged him before she got out of the car. "Thanks, Gil. I'll get through this one like I always get through the rest of it." He watched her walk to her door and disappear inside. And then he broke every existing law to get to Sara's apartment as fast as he could.
He knocked on her door, and she answered within seconds. Before he had a chance to say anything, her lips were on his, instantly forgiving him for anything he could have done.
"I told you I'd be here when you got back," she whispered in his ear, and then licked it.
Later, when the fun had been had and the wine glasses were empty, Grissom finally started talking.
"I know I owe you an explanation, so let me start, okay? I was just scared--"
Sara smiled and put her hand over his mouth. She had a beautiful smile.
"Griss, I don't want you to explain. You're back, you're here with me, and I'm sure you found whatever it was you needed to find out there. I get it. You don't always have to explain everything."
He stared at her, grateful he had such a kindhearted woman for a girlfriend. He was stupid to leave her. He'd never do it again.
*****************
And then the miniature killer was back. Gissom finally got around to opening a package that had been sitting on his desk for nearly a month only to find it was another miniature. It was postmarked after Ernie Dell's death, so now they were at square one again. Grissom tried not to get too involved, he really did, but he couldn't help it. If it wasn't Ernie Dell, who the hell could it be?
The miniatures continued to plague him over the next couple of months, but he did his best to spend as much time as possible with Sara. He wanted to make her feel loved. He wanted to make her feel the way she made him feel: like he could take over the world with her by his side. He did his best and thought he could feel her coming around.
"Do you want to get a dog?" He asked her one day.
"A dog? Yeah, I would like to get a dog," she said, smiling happily. "I've never had one."
"Me, either. I think we should get a Boxer. My mother had one for a long time, and he was a good boy."
"I want a Boxer, too! Hannah, my colleague in San Francisco, had one, and she was always talking about what a great dog he was."
So, they found a Boxer rescue group and obtained themselves a dog. His name was Bruno, he was 4 years old and he drooled. All the time. But he belonged to them, and they loved him as much as 2 loving parents could love something together.
Things were definitely looking up for the two of them, but something was still off. He sensed that even though she said he didn't owe her an explanation, she was still hurt about the sabbatical. He tried as hard as he could to make up for it, and it seemed like things were going to be okay. And then he went and screwed things up again with the infamous Lady Heather.
He didn't sleep with her. He didn't even want to sleep with her. But he needed to know what was wrong with her. She wasn't herself, and he wanted to know why. Just a year earlier, she lost her daughter to a horrible man. Grissom had to stop her from killing that horrible man; beating him to death with her whip in the dark Nevada desert. He knew she was on edge, he just didn't know how far.
As soon as Grissom heard about Heather, he rushed to the hospital to see her. In the car, he desperately hoped it wasn't going to be Sara who was processing Heather, who apparently had strangulation marks around her neck. It wasn't that he didn't want Sara to meet her, exactly...it's just that he never really told Sara about Heather.
But he saw her as soon as he got to the hospital room. Heather didn't make things any better by saying his name before Sara even saw him.
"I'm almost done here," Sara said, finishing up. She did not look happy.
When she was done, Sara left, not bothering to look at Grissom. He'd talk to her later. Now, he needed to talk to Heather.
He talked to her enough to determine that she was covering for a client of hers. Something was very wrong here, but she refused to tell him what. And before he could get it out of here, she started going into diabetic shock. He called the nurses, informing them of her diabetes. And then he went to find Sara. He knew she was still somewhere in the hospital filling out the mounds of paperwork he knew she had. He found her by the vending machines in the waiting room, vacantly looking at the TV.
"Sara, look--"
"Griss, Catherine told me about Heather," she said shakily. "I know about her now. I know she's the only person who ever rattled you. I know, okay? So what do you want?"
She sounded hostile, and Grissom tried to diffuse the situation as best he could.
"Sara, Honey, please understand. That was a long time ago. And you have to know that it was only one night, nothing else. We haven't kept in touch. I saw her last year when her daughter died, but nothing happened."
She looked at him. There was the hint of tears in her eyes, and he sighed.
"She never rattled me like you always have since the beginning," he said. "Catherine has no idea. She doesn't know how much I love you and how much I think about you and how much I want to be with you. And Heather doesn't know that, either. But as long as you know, then I'm happy. You know that, right? You know how much you mean to me. And you know how I would never jeopardize that in any kind of way, right?"
"Well, yes. Of course I know that."
"Good. Because, Sara...something is wrong with Heather. I consider her a friend, and I'm not sure she has any of those right now."
"Do what you have to do," she told him, disapproval clear in her eyes.
"Thank you, Honey. I love you, and you are the only person I ever want to come home to." And then he left, needing to get to the bottom of what was bothering Heather.
He did spend the night with Heather, but they only talked, of course. And Grissom found out many important things that were going through Heather's mind. Later, he found Heather's granddaughter and reunited the two of them. It seemed like everyone was happy. And he was happy, because he was going home to Sara.
But when he got home, she had his letter. And she had another letter, one from her mother. And then she was gone, and he didn't know why.
Author: Butliz
Rating: Teen
Spoilers: Everything through 7x24
Disclaimer: I so don't own them.
Summary: Sara's mother is sick, and Sara feels like she's finally ready to face the past. But how will that effect her future? A look at Sara and Grissom's past, present and future. As always, thanks to the tireless beta-ness of GSFanatic.
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
A/N: 2 more chapters left, boo! Also, with this chapter, the story is now over 50,000 words and would probably qualify as the longest story I've ever written. I've participated in Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month for the uninitiated) 4 times, but they never went much over 50,000 words. The point is: I'm proud of my little story, and if you like it, a girl never gets tired of some feedback.
As always, thanks to my awesome beta GSFanatic.
One more thing: if the ending seems a little abrupt to you, I'd like to direct you to the first 2 chapters which pretty much deals with the aftermath.
Vegas, year seven
For the first time since she came to Vegas, Sara was finally feeling like she hit her stride. She was striving in her career and managing to not get too deeply engrossed in office politics. Her colleagues were amazing and she enjoyed spending time with them on and off the clock. And she was in a relationship with the man she loved. In fact, she finally let herself believe that she was happy, a feeling so rare that she once resigned herself to never feeling it again. That was before she was kissing Gil Grissom on a daily basis, though.
Seeing the first miniature was frightening. Sara had seen serial killers before; she was single-handedly responsible for taking down a notorious killer in San Francisco. They called him the Silk Stalker, because he would only target women who wore stockings. So the concept of a serial killer didn't scare her; it was the freakishly accurate detail in the miniatures that terrified her.
But nothing scared her as much as when Greg took the beating of his life. Greg had been through a lot in his years in the lab, and now as a rookie investigator he was unfortunately involved in the murder of a young black man. Greg just happened to drive by a mob of people beating up one innocent man. Greg tried to stop the beating only to become a victim himself. Demitrius James, one of the members of the mob, was certainly going to hurt, if not kill, Greg if he didn't make a decision fast. Greg ended up running into Demitrius with his S.U.V., and Demitrius later died.
As soon as Sara heard, she rushed to the scene of the accident. She saw the man Greg ran over, Demitrius. She saw the man the mob was beating to a pulp when Greg showed up on the scene. They both had medics attending to them. And then she saw Greg, who was alone, bloody and beaten.
Sara found Sofia and asked her why nobody was attending to Greg. It's not that she didn't like Sofia, she just preferred that Sofia didn't exist, and it was annoying Sara to see Greg all by himself.
"He's been stabilized. Sara, he's going to be okay," Sofia said.
Sara rushed over to him and kneeled down to touch his head. His eyes were closed and she wasn’t sure if he was conscious or not.
"Sara..." he said, keeping his eyes closed.
"I didn't know you could see me," Sara said.
"I can't, but I know that Sidle scent."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment."
Greg had also been injured in the lab explosion 3 years earlier, and when Sara came to visit him, she was shocked to see how burned and bruised he was. This man that was normally so happy and energetic and funny looked so beaten, the life burned right out of him. He came back from that accident; would he come back from this one?
He told Sara that he scratched one of his attackers, and one of them might have spit on his vest.
"You should process the scene now," he said. "Me later."
"I came here for you, Greg," she said.
He smiled appreciatively. She took his hand, and they stayed there like that, him lying on the ground, eyes closed; and her, sitting next to him, running her fingers through his hair.
When Greg made it to the hospital, Grissom went to see him. Later, at home, he and Sara sat on his leather sofa and talked about it.
"You know he never told his parents he wasn't in the lab anymore? His mother is apparently very overprotective," Grissom said thoughtfully.
"I didn't know he never told them, but I knew his mom was overprotective. He said that the first time he told his mom he went out in the field, she yelled like he never heard her yell before. I think it's nice, actually."
"Are you going to be an overprotective mommy?" He teased her, smiling.
He'd been doing that a lot lately, referring to kids and sometimes marriage, and it was always when she was least expecting it. She was so used to him giving her the cold shoulder about anything other than work for so many years, that when he actually admitted that he thought about these things, it was kind of shocking. She was pretty sure he liked catching her off guard like that.
"I have no idea what kind of mommy I'll be. I haven't really thought about it."
"You're a nurturer, Sara, you'll be a great mom."
She had no idea what to say that wonderful, generous compliment, so she changed the subject. "I can't believe those monsters were wearing costumes. What is happening to this world, Griss? People are beating each other just for fun now? I just don't get it."
He didn't say anything, just held her closer to him. It was something she was really starting to love about him - he always seemed to know when she needed him to comfort her and when she just needed him to hold her.
*************
But then the second miniature came, and then the third. Grissom became a little more obsessed with each one, and Sara could feel him slipping away from her. All the hard work she did to bring him to this point, the point where he was actually starting to thrive in this relationship, was starting to be for naught. It was frustrating, and Sara didn't know how she could get him back.
She knew there was a problem when she stopped by his office after a long day in court. She sat on the bench all day, waiting for her name to be called, and it never was. It was the most mind-numbingly boring day she'd had in a long time. But it was over now, and she'd been looking forward to seeing him. It helped that she looked good, and she knew it. He, however, seemed to be in another world - a world that most likely didn't include her.
"I heard the guys solved a double murder," she said.
"Mm-hmm," he said distractedly.
"I spent the day sitting on a bench outside the courtroom; they never got to me."
"That sucks," he said. She kind of wanted to shake him. She kind of wanted to yell, "Hey, remember me, your girlfriend? The one who has been patient for 7 years and now that patience is beginning to fade, Mister?!"
Instead, she said, "Feeling transcendental?"
"Hmm?"
"Thoreau," she said, looking at his book, Walden. "I, uh, I haven't read him since college."
"Me, neither. It holds up. 'I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.'
Well, that describes him to a tee, doesn't it? She found herself thinking bitterly. She wanted to tell him where he could put that pumpkin.
She looked down at a clipboard that had his daily crossword on it. They would often work on crosswords together when they had a little time at home; it was one of their favorite activities to do together.
"Oh, look, you missed one. Sixty-three down. Misanthrope."
He just looked at her, probably wondering what was going through her head.
"I won't wait up," she said, leaving his office. On days she didn't sleep at her own apartment, which were many, she would usually head to his townhouse at least an hour before he was done for the day. She had a feeling she'd be waiting for a while today.
*************
She really should have seen the sabbatical coming. In reality, she wasn't that surprised when he told her he was leaving. The miniature killer turned out to be one Ernie Dell, who confessed his actions on video to Grissom. While Grissom watched, Ernie Dell blew his brains out on that video. As soon as Sara heard that, she knew Grissom was going to need a break.
"I'm going to Massachusetts," he blurted out one day over a late lunch. "I'm leaving next week. I'll be gone for a month."
Even though she knew he needed to get away for a little while, she didn't know it would be so far away. Or for so long. Or without her, for that matter.
"Oh," she said, not really knowing what he expected her to say.
"They offered me a seminar on Thoreau, and I took it. I know you realize I need to get away from here, Sara. I just don't want you to think that I need to get away from you. It's not you. I just need...out."
There were many things she could say at this point, but none of them really seemed to matter. He was going to leave. He needed out. And he didn't want her to go with him. Clearly he needed time away from her. She tried to look at it rationally...if time was what he needed; time was what he would have. It wouldn't be beneficial to either one of them if she had a girly fit about it. And maybe he'd realize a few things while he was gone. She was counting on it.
"Okay. Have fun."
He sighed.
"Sara, come on, I know that's not all you have to say about it."
"Yes, actually it is. You need to leave? Go. I'll be here when you get back."
He smiled and kissed her.
"Thanks, Honey. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
He was always saying he'd make it up to her, and he always would for a while. Until the next time he promised to make it up to her. She wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever really keep that promise.
**************
His taxi had arrived. He told the driver to wait 5 minutes; he had something he needed to do.
Roaming down the halls of the lab, he looked for the only person he wanted to see. He found Sara in the locker room, putting her jacket away.
"Hey," he said, watching her closely. "My cab's here."
"So, you're going?" She asked.
"Yeah."
"I'll see you when you get back."
He wanted to do a lot of things right then. He wanted to close the door to the locker room, pin her against the locker and kiss her. A lot. He wanted to take her hand, lead her to the cab, go to the airport and take a plane to Brazil instead of Massachusetts. What he most wanted to do was cancel the cab and stay with her, only her, all the time, but he couldn't. He had to get out. He had to think.
So he just said, "I'll miss you."
She only nodded. He left her standing there, wondering what happened between the two of them.
There were many reasons why he felt he had to take this seminar opportunity. One, he hadn't been offered a seminar in a long time and he was honored. Two, the miniature killer case nearly broke him. Finding out who was responsible for the miniatures had been hard enough, but watching Ernie Dell take his own life right before his very eyes was just...too much. Nobody should have to see that in their lives, and now he'd seen somebody kill themselves twice.
Ernie Dell had gotten into his head. Especially because Grissom understood the miniatures. He appreciated the exquisite detail that went into making them. He was almost sympathetic to a killer just because the miniatures were nothing like he'd ever seen before. It was completely maddening. And there was something else, too. Something about Ernie completely threw Gil off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it didn't seem like that guy could pull off the detail of the miniature crime scene. He never told anyone because the proof was real; Ernie killed himself to get out of paying for what he'd done. But Grissom still thought there was something not quite right about it all.
The third reason was more complicated. He loved Sara, deeply and truly and faithfully. But this love was scaring the bejesus out him. She very nearly lived with him, for one thing. Coming home to her; opening the door of his townhouse and seeing her on the sofa watching an old movie or a documentary on the Discovery Channel gave him a happiness he never knew existed. But it was also strange to have someone around all the time. He wasn't used to that. When it came down to it, he wasn't used to being in love, and he needed to figure out what the hell he could do about it.
Massachusetts was cold. It was snowy and cold and all he could see when he looked out at his students was Sara. Sara, the young fiery college girl that came to his seminar as a student and left as a friend. He looked for students at his seminar; he looked to see if any of them had the spark Sara had. None of them did. And it made him miss her so much it hurt.
Yet he didn't call her. There were so many things he wanted to tell her that picking up the phone seemed entirely overwhelming. He had no idea what kind of damage he was causing to the relationship, but he knew in his heart she would understand. And then he just felt like a bastard for knowing that she'd understand. Isn't that what their relationship had been about from the very start? It was a problem, and he was going to have to change.
He did write her a letter. He sat at his desk the school provided him and he wrote her a long letter, complete with a Shakespearian sonnet.
I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you. Even though we're far apart, I can see you as vividly as if you were here with me. I said I'll miss you, and I do. As Shakespeare more ably wrote my sentiment in Sonnet 47, Thyself away art present still with me; For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move, and I am still with them. Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight, Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight."
Happy with his letter, he folded it and addressed the envelope. But then he thought better of it. He was going to send it with the cocoon; he knew she was going to love that cocoon. But what good would the letter really do? If he couldn't even talk to her on the phone, would she really appreciate getting a letter saying the things he couldn't say to her face to face or through the phone? He couldn't do it. Maybe he'd show it to her someday. Maybe he'd tell her instead of show her. Maybe he'd do a lot of things, and then again, maybe he wouldn't.
*********
After a long, cold month of teaching disinterred students about mosquitoes and Walden Pond, Grissom came home. What he wanted to do was get off that plane, find Sara and give her the best sex of both their lives. But he knew she wasn't exactly going to be happy with him. He also hadn't counted on Mike Keppler and the drama he was currently inflicting upon Grissom's CSIs.
Mike Keppler filled in for Grissom while he was gone, and he brought a whole plethora of secrets with him. When Grissom got back to his office, he found Catherine a complete mess and the rest of the team out on a scavenger hunt to find what Keppler had been hiding.
And he couldn't find Sara. He couldn't wait to see her, even if he did look a little scruffy. He didn't shave while in Massachusetts and his beard was quite impressive, he thought. He lost a little weight from walking everywhere. He felt good physically, and now all he wanted to do was find Sara and tell her all the things he'd been meaning to say.
While he was looking through his gigantic stack of mail, he finally saw Sara walking down the hall. He nearly ran out of his office.
"Sara!" He kind of yelled, not even caring about who was around to see their reunion.
"Hey, you're back," she said, and for the first time he noticed she was a little...well, dirty. And smelly. And it was completely endearing and lovely and he wished they were at home and not in the hallway at work.
"Yeah," he said.
"Uh, I've been out at a, um. I've been at a..."
"A garbage dump?" He said, smirking just a little.
"Yeah." She was backing away from him, clearly not wanting him to smell her or even really look at her. It was cute how self-conscious she was being, but seeing that all he wanted to do was touch her, it was also very frustrating.
"It's so obvious, isn't it?" She took a good look at him, and he guessed she was just noticing the beard. "Nice, um...you look good."
"Did you, uh, put the cocoon in my office?"
"Cool, dry, not a lot of light; Seemed like the right place for it."
"I think you're going to be surprised when it hatches."
"I have no doubt," she said. "I'm gonna go clean up now."
He stopped following her, and she slowed down.
"I'll see you later," he said.
"Yeah, you will." And then she was gone. He had no idea what to take from that conversation. Was she mad at him or not? Did she still love him? Was she going to be mad at him? He didn't know, but didn't have time to think about it, either.
The Keppler drama boiled over, and Grissom found himself a few hours later at a seedy motel, watching a crazed Catherine sob over Keppler's body. Whatever Keppler had been involved in, it was over now. Grissom held Catherine and pulled her away from the ambulance that took Keppler away. He didn't know what feelings she had for the man, but she certainly felt something.
Grissom took Catherine home. She tried to pull herself together in the car so she wouldn't be a wreck when she came home to Lindsey.
Grissom told her, "I'm sorry, Catherine. I know you've been through a lot this year, and I wish this didn't happen to you, I really do."
She hugged him before she got out of the car. "Thanks, Gil. I'll get through this one like I always get through the rest of it." He watched her walk to her door and disappear inside. And then he broke every existing law to get to Sara's apartment as fast as he could.
He knocked on her door, and she answered within seconds. Before he had a chance to say anything, her lips were on his, instantly forgiving him for anything he could have done.
"I told you I'd be here when you got back," she whispered in his ear, and then licked it.
Later, when the fun had been had and the wine glasses were empty, Grissom finally started talking.
"I know I owe you an explanation, so let me start, okay? I was just scared--"
Sara smiled and put her hand over his mouth. She had a beautiful smile.
"Griss, I don't want you to explain. You're back, you're here with me, and I'm sure you found whatever it was you needed to find out there. I get it. You don't always have to explain everything."
He stared at her, grateful he had such a kindhearted woman for a girlfriend. He was stupid to leave her. He'd never do it again.
*****************
And then the miniature killer was back. Gissom finally got around to opening a package that had been sitting on his desk for nearly a month only to find it was another miniature. It was postmarked after Ernie Dell's death, so now they were at square one again. Grissom tried not to get too involved, he really did, but he couldn't help it. If it wasn't Ernie Dell, who the hell could it be?
The miniatures continued to plague him over the next couple of months, but he did his best to spend as much time as possible with Sara. He wanted to make her feel loved. He wanted to make her feel the way she made him feel: like he could take over the world with her by his side. He did his best and thought he could feel her coming around.
"Do you want to get a dog?" He asked her one day.
"A dog? Yeah, I would like to get a dog," she said, smiling happily. "I've never had one."
"Me, either. I think we should get a Boxer. My mother had one for a long time, and he was a good boy."
"I want a Boxer, too! Hannah, my colleague in San Francisco, had one, and she was always talking about what a great dog he was."
So, they found a Boxer rescue group and obtained themselves a dog. His name was Bruno, he was 4 years old and he drooled. All the time. But he belonged to them, and they loved him as much as 2 loving parents could love something together.
Things were definitely looking up for the two of them, but something was still off. He sensed that even though she said he didn't owe her an explanation, she was still hurt about the sabbatical. He tried as hard as he could to make up for it, and it seemed like things were going to be okay. And then he went and screwed things up again with the infamous Lady Heather.
He didn't sleep with her. He didn't even want to sleep with her. But he needed to know what was wrong with her. She wasn't herself, and he wanted to know why. Just a year earlier, she lost her daughter to a horrible man. Grissom had to stop her from killing that horrible man; beating him to death with her whip in the dark Nevada desert. He knew she was on edge, he just didn't know how far.
As soon as Grissom heard about Heather, he rushed to the hospital to see her. In the car, he desperately hoped it wasn't going to be Sara who was processing Heather, who apparently had strangulation marks around her neck. It wasn't that he didn't want Sara to meet her, exactly...it's just that he never really told Sara about Heather.
But he saw her as soon as he got to the hospital room. Heather didn't make things any better by saying his name before Sara even saw him.
"I'm almost done here," Sara said, finishing up. She did not look happy.
When she was done, Sara left, not bothering to look at Grissom. He'd talk to her later. Now, he needed to talk to Heather.
He talked to her enough to determine that she was covering for a client of hers. Something was very wrong here, but she refused to tell him what. And before he could get it out of here, she started going into diabetic shock. He called the nurses, informing them of her diabetes. And then he went to find Sara. He knew she was still somewhere in the hospital filling out the mounds of paperwork he knew she had. He found her by the vending machines in the waiting room, vacantly looking at the TV.
"Sara, look--"
"Griss, Catherine told me about Heather," she said shakily. "I know about her now. I know she's the only person who ever rattled you. I know, okay? So what do you want?"
She sounded hostile, and Grissom tried to diffuse the situation as best he could.
"Sara, Honey, please understand. That was a long time ago. And you have to know that it was only one night, nothing else. We haven't kept in touch. I saw her last year when her daughter died, but nothing happened."
She looked at him. There was the hint of tears in her eyes, and he sighed.
"She never rattled me like you always have since the beginning," he said. "Catherine has no idea. She doesn't know how much I love you and how much I think about you and how much I want to be with you. And Heather doesn't know that, either. But as long as you know, then I'm happy. You know that, right? You know how much you mean to me. And you know how I would never jeopardize that in any kind of way, right?"
"Well, yes. Of course I know that."
"Good. Because, Sara...something is wrong with Heather. I consider her a friend, and I'm not sure she has any of those right now."
"Do what you have to do," she told him, disapproval clear in her eyes.
"Thank you, Honey. I love you, and you are the only person I ever want to come home to." And then he left, needing to get to the bottom of what was bothering Heather.
He did spend the night with Heather, but they only talked, of course. And Grissom found out many important things that were going through Heather's mind. Later, he found Heather's granddaughter and reunited the two of them. It seemed like everyone was happy. And he was happy, because he was going home to Sara.
But when he got home, she had his letter. And she had another letter, one from her mother. And then she was gone, and he didn't know why.
