A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for the lovely and talented Maisy13. Maisy, you are a wonderful friend and person, and I hope you have a fabulous birthday. Celebrate in style! I hope you like your present. :-D HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
And, I also must give a huge THANK YOU to Aussieforgood. Thanks so much for all your help and support!
I hope everyone else enjoys this little ficlet, too! Thanks for reading and reviewing.
I don't own CSI or Ben and Jerry's.
Minute by Minute
Thursday, 23 April 1998
8:35 AM.
Sara Sidle nearly screamed in frustration as the car in front of her braked for a yellow light. She slammed her hands against the steering wheel.
"We both could have made that! Some of us are late for a lecture!"
She glanced at the clock on the dashboard again. 8:36 AM. The lecture didn't start until 9:00, but she was sure she'd need every minute if she was going to make it on time. As it was, she was already missing out on the conference breakfast. Although it was her first day of her first Forensics Academy Conference, she had heard nothing but praise for the food from her colleagues for the past three weeks. She had rather been looking forward to sampling the fare.
The light finally turned green, and Sara accelerated quickly, swerving into the left lane to pass her slow-driving nemesis. She gave the man a nasty look as she sped past him, mentally cursing him for making her late.
She made it through two lights on green before hitting one on red. Sighing, she looked down at the clock again. 8:45 AM.
"I'm going to be late," she said in disbelief. "I can't believe I'm going to be late."
Taking advantage of the red light, she reached into her bag for her schedule for the day. Her first lecture was entitled, "Double Murder in a Garage." The speaker was Dr. Gilbert Grissom.
"Dr. Grissom," she muttered to herself. "Why do I … Oh, that's right. Megan and Keith said he's boring."
Megan and Keith were two of her colleagues. Veterans of several conferences, they were her best source of information about food and lecturers. Smiling slightly as she accelerated, she thought that, with any luck, she'd get to find out if they were right about something related to this conference – and it wouldn't be the food.
8:58 AM.
Grissom glanced at his watch as several more conference-goers entered the large lecture hall. They certainly were cutting it close.
He made it a habit to start every lecture exactly on time. In a science as exacting as theirs, he was sure that everyone appreciated his attention to detail.
He looked at his watch again as the hands ticked into place at 9:00. He stepped up to the podium.
"Good morning," he said into the microphone.
Conversations died immediately and the last few people who were standing took their seats.
"My name is Dr. Gil Grissom, and I'm with you today to talk about the evolution of a theory based on the evidence presented at a crime scene."
9:04 AM.
"Shit!" Sara exclaimed as she ran toward the double doors of the lecture hall. "Shit, shit, shit!"
Her only hope was that Dr. Gilbert Grissom was fond of starting his lectures a little late.
9:06 AM.
Sara didn't stop running until she arrived at the lecture hall. She paused at the door, listening for the sounds of chatter that meant the lecture had not begun. All that met her ears was the sound of one man speaking.
"Shit," she whispered. "He's punctual."
Sara eased the door open, trying to enter as unobtrusively as possible. She slipped in quietly and found a seat in the back of the room.
9:07 AM.
He noticed her enter.
How could he not? She was late, and therefore made a rather obvious entrance by default. She came in through a door in the back of the theater-style hall; she walked right through his sight line as she took her seat.
She took more than a seat. She took his attention, and, if he were honest, she took his breath away.
She wasn't the most beautiful woman he had ever seen – Vegas had given him a rare opportunity to observe very beautiful people – but, she was beautiful with a realness that no one he had ever met before could achieve.
He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the red flush that spread across her cheeks as she realized how late she was. Maybe it was the ponytail that gave her the look of a little girl playing at being grown up. Maybe it was the timid way she ducked her head down when he looked in her direction.
Whatever it was, this unknown conference attendee had his attention.
9:15 AM.
It was several minutes before Sara was able to shake off her embarrassment at arriving so late and to start to listen to the lecture. When she did start to listen, she finally noticed the speaker.
Dr. Gilbert Grissom was, in a word, attractive. Very attractive.
Sara wondered how Megan and Keith had failed to mention that in their descriptions of his "boring" lectures. How had they not told her about his deep blue eyes? His brown, slightly curly hair? His smile? The cleft in his chin?
Sara sat up straighter, ready to drink in every word of his lecture. Somehow, she had a feeling Dr. Grissom wasn't going to be nearly as boring as Megan and Keith had predicted.
10:30 AM.
"And, so, I must remind you again, first impressions are crucial, but, as the evidence changes, so must the theory." Grissom smiled at his audience. "Thank you all for attending. I hope you enjoy the rest of the conference."
With murmured thank yous, the conference-goers began to collect their things and stand to their feet, stretching muscles that had not been used for ninety minutes. Grissom turned away from them as he began to gather his own materials.
"Dr. Grissom? Do you have a moment? I have a few questions."
"Of course," Grissom replied, slowly turning around.
His heart nearly stopped. The questions were coming from her. The girl who had arrived late. The girl with the flushed cheeks and the ponytail.
For her, he certainly had time.
10:32 AM.
"I'm sorry; I don't believe we've met, Miss …?"
"Sara Sidle," Sara said, extending her hand.
Grissom smiled. "Gil Grissom."
"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Grissom."
"Just Grissom," he corrected. "Now, you said you had a question? Would that be about what you missed during the first few minutes of the lecture?"
A flush of embarrassment spread across Sara's cheeks again. Was he really reprimanding her for being late? Then, as she looked up and saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, she began to smile.
"No, I'm afraid not," she said. "Although, I suppose the first five minutes were when you delivered the most pivotal material."
"Naturally," he replied, smiling along with her. How could anyone not smile when she smiled like that? "It's my way of making sure everyone arrives on time for my lectures."
"I wish I had known," she said, still grinning.
Grissom waited a moment for her to continue. When she didn't, he cleared his throat. "You had a question?"
"Oh! Yes. I was wondering, could you give me a bit more detail about the crime scene? Perhaps your first blush reactions?"
"I think I did that in the lecture."
Sara shook her head. "No, you let us vocalize our own reactions and form our own conclusions. I'd like to hear yours, if you'd be willing to share them with me."
Grissom smiled. "Of course."
10:57 AM.
"Hi, Grissom."
Grissom looked up from his conversation with Sara – the girl had a nearly overwhelming number of questions – to see one of his colleagues entering the lecture hall. He smiled.
"Hello, Joe."
Joe glanced at his watch. "I thought your lecture ended at 10:30?"
"It did. I was just clarifying a few points for Ms. Sidle."
"Sara," Sara corrected softly.
Grissom gave her a smile. "Sara," he repeated.
"Well, I hate to break up the academic party, but my lecture starts in fifteen minutes, so …"
"Oh!" Grissom exclaimed, looking at his own watch. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize we had been here so long."
"No problem," Joe said. "Are either of you signed up for it? It's on blood spatter analysis."
"No, sorry," Sara said. "I don't have anything else until after lunch."
"I'm sitting in on your lecture tomorrow," Grissom said.
"I'll have to be on my toes," Joe said, giving Sara a wink. "I'm glad I have today to practice."
"Well, we'll leave you to it," Grissom said. He looked back at Sara, who had a rather odd expression on her face. She looked … disappointed and … angry with herself.
Sara felt her heart beating nearly out of her chest as he looked at her. She wanted so much to ask him if he had dinner plans, but she couldn't make herself do it. For once in her life, her nerve was failing her.
"If you don't have anything to do right now, would you like to grab a cup of coffee?" Grissom asked. "I don't want to just end our conversation because of Joe …"
Sara's face lit up with a smile, and her heart, if possible, began to hammer even faster. "I'd love to," she said. "There's a great coffee shop right around the corner."
"You're familiar with the area?"
"I'm from San Francisco."
"Well, then, lead on."
11:45 PM.
They never made it back to the conference.
After coffee, they decided to walk around for awhile to kill time until Sara's afternoon sessions started. Grissom's morning lecture was his only commitment for the day; he was eager to do something other than spend all his time in his hotel room. Sara was eager to spend more time with Grissom.
Their morning stroll became lunch. They both conveniently "forgot" that Sara had signed up for an afternoon lecture when she offered to show him more of San Francisco. He quickly agreed to her suggestion of a tour of the Golden Gate Bridge. Somewhere between coffee and lunch, the day became less about killing time and more about spending time together.
After dinner, Sara was full of more suggestions of places they could see, and Grissom was more than willing to go along with her. It was nearly midnight by the time they agreed that they truly needed to call it a day.
They returned to the university together, and Grissom walked Sara to her car. They paused a bit awkwardly in front of it – one of the last cars in the visitors' parking lot.
"Sara, I want to thank you," Grissom said. "Normally, when I go to conventions and conferences, I give lectures and attend lectures, but, other than that, I spend all my time in the hotel. Thank you for making today special for me."
Sara bit her lower lip. "It was special for me, too."
Grissom stepped a bit closer. "Was it?"
Sara nodded. "It was." She smiled slightly. "You know, this is my first conference. My colleagues tried to prepare me, but they really didn't do you justice."
"Oh? Why is that?"
"I suppose because they've never spent a day with you," she said quietly. "I feel … very lucky to say that I have."
"I feel lucky to say that I've spent the day with you, too," Grissom said, his own voice just as quiet as hers.
Sara smiled slightly. "You'll probably think I'm crazy for saying this, but I feel like this was more than a day. I feel like I've known you so much longer – it's like I've known you forever."
"I feel the same way," Grissom whispered.
He reached up to touch her cheek, cradling it in his palm. Sara closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She held her breath, waiting for the kiss that she was sure would be forthcoming.
But, instead of Grissom's lips brushing against hers, she felt his thumb gently tracing over them. She slowly opened her eyes to see him studying her. His eyes were guarded, trying to hide the emotion that he felt.
"You should get home before it gets too late," he said quietly.
"Yeah," Sara said, blinking as she tried to get her bearings again. "I guess I should."
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
"I'll be here."
Grissom smiled. "I'll find you."
Sara nodded, unsure of how to say good bye. "Well … good night."
"Good night."
Grissom stepped back and waited until Sara had climbed into her car and started the engine. She waved as she pulled out of her parking space. Grissom returned the gesture, then walked to his own rental car.
11:59 PM.
He didn't kiss me.
For a reason she didn't dare to analyze, the thought and lack of action brought tears to Sara's eyes.
11:59 PM.
I should have kissed her.
Regret filled Grissom.
Friday, 24 April 1998
5:30 PM.
The second and final day of the conference was far busier than the last. Grissom delivered two lectures and attended two. Unfortunately, Sara was not present in any of them. He was starting to believe that he had imagined her when he literally ran into her as they both fought their way down a crowded hallway.
"Sara," he said, his voice just above a whisper.
"Grissom," she said in surprise. "I was starting to think you had left early."
He smiled, noticing that her ponytail was gone, leaving curly hair framing her face. "And disappoint my fan? Never."
Sara giggled. "You have a fan?"
"One. Of course, we've been friends since college, so I don't suppose he really counts. But, he always comes to my lectures."
"Supportive friend."
"You could say that. I think he's just waiting for me to make a mistake so he can correct me in front of a crowd."
Sara giggled again. "Hey, do you have plans for tonight? We could grab dinner."
He did have plans, actually; his name was down to attend the lecturers' dinner. But, suddenly his plans didn't matter. "No," he said, "I don't have plans. Dinner would be lovely."
Sara's face lit up with a smile. "Great! I know a fantastic little restaurant by the Bridge – it has the best views. Would you like to go there?"
"I'd love to."
7:38 PM.
Dinner was wonderful. Walking around with Sara afterward was even better. Watching the setting sun catch the highlights in her hair, he knew that he had to have a picture of her. He needed something to remind him that these two days had been real.
"May I take your picture?" he asked, pulling his camera from his bag. "With the Bridge? I need proof that I saw it with a local to show my friends in Vegas."
Sara giggled. "Okay, sure. Where do you want me?"
"Right … there."
Sara stepped into position and gave him a wide smile. "How's that?"
"Perfect."
"Excuse me, sir?"
Grissom turned to look at the older woman behind him. "Yes?"
"I can take the picture for you, if you'd like to be in it with your girlfriend."
"Oh," Grissom said, somewhat flustered. "Okay. Sure. Thanks."
He handed his camera over and joined Sara, putting his arm loosely around her waist.
Sara looked up at him for a moment, then turned to look at the woman holding his camera. Her smile could have lit up the entire Bay Area.
11:35 PM.
Another late night. Another walk to Sara's car. Another moment that begged for a good night kiss.
Another time he couldn't do it.
He knew he'd regret it in the morning, but he just couldn't do it. It wasn't fair to either of them. He mentally repeated that to himself again and again as he fumbled to pull a business card from his wallet.
"I'd like to keep in touch with you," he said shyly. "This has my email and my work and cell numbers on it. If you'd like, I can email you my home number, too."
"Okay," Sara agreed, taking the card and sliding it into her purse. She offered him one of her own cards. "Same deal. I can send you my home number, too."
"I'd like that," Grissom said, pocketing her card. "I've … really enjoyed getting to know you."
"I've enjoyed spending time with you, too."
He looked at her intensely. "You'll keep in touch?"
"I will," she promised. "But, you'd better email me back."
"I will," he echoed. "I guess this doesn't need to be good bye, then."
Sara shook her head. "Just good night."
Grissom took her hand and squeezed it. "Good night, then."
Sara smiled through the ache in her throat. "Good night."
One last smile, one last longing look, and the spell was broken. Sara climbed into her car and Grissom walked to his.
Neither had ever been so totally happy, yet so completely miserable.
Thursday, 28 April 2005
8:13 AM.
Sara stepped out of her shower and slowly dried off. She had been in the shower for nearly an hour, but still hadn't managed to wash off the feel of Adam Trent's hands holding her in place, pressing a ceramic shard against her neck …
She shuddered and took a deep breath.
"It's over, Sara," she whispered. "It's over."
Another calming breath, and she went into her bedroom to get dressed. Gray yoga pants, pink tank top, hair in a ponytail. Her "relaxation look." If that didn't help her calm down, nothing would.
… Nothing except a pint of Ben and Jerry's, of course. She turned on her stereo and took a pint of ice cream from her freezer.
She and her ice cream were halfway to the couch when she heard insistent knocking on her door. She turned around, depositing the ice cream on the counter on her way back to the door.
Glancing through the peephole, she saw Grissom standing on her doorstep. He looked … upset. Sara pulled the door open.
"Hi," she said.
She couldn't manage any other words. Grissom moved forward as soon as he saw her, pulling her into a tight, crushing embrace.
"My God," he whispered against her neck, "I could have lost you. I could have lost you."
Sara clung to him, relishing the feel of his strong arms locked around her, washing away the memory of Adam Trent's arms in a way the shower never could. In that moment, she felt safe.
Grissom finally pulled back enough to look at her. "You're okay, right?"
Sara nodded dumbly.
"Good."
He looked deeply into her eyes for what felt like forever, then leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.
Sara jumped a bit in surprise, then returned the kiss. She sighed and parted her lips, welcoming his tongue as he deepened the kiss.
"I'm sorry," Grissom whispered when he finally broke the kiss. "I shouldn't – I presumed too much – I –"
Sara silenced him by kissing him again. "You should," she whispered between kisses. "You didn't presume." Another kiss. "By my calculations, you're terribly late."
Grissom pulled back and gave her a confused frown. "What do you mean?"
Sara smiled. "I've been waiting for that kiss since the day we met. You're about seven years late with it."
Grissom chuckled, remembering that long-ago day. "Well. You were late for my lecture."
Sara rolled her eyes. "By seven minutes, maybe, but not seven years."
"Still. I think we're even."
Sara shook her head. "I think you owe me quite a few more kisses before we're even."
Grissom smiled. "That's one debt I don't mind working off. In fact, I think I'll start right now."
Dipping his head down, he kissed her again. And again. And again.
He had to make up for a lot of lost time.
Fin