A/N: This story haunted me after recently viewing again the episode "Double Crossed"…the second interview, and Grissom's reaction to it, has always haunted me…this short story is based on the juxtaposed events in that episode, and how I think they really should have played out, assuming that "Way to Go" might have been their first night together... always, I don't own any part of these characters or storylines – if I did we would hear more about their happily-ever-after in every current episode…this is a one-shot that gets into what I believed transpired around this time…it isn't anything earth shattering, but it just wouldn't leave me alone… hope you'll take the short ride as we revisit a time of initial development in their relationship…reviews are always appreciated, but honestly not expected for this little trifle…totally my AU, told in the present and in flashbacks…these two always make me sigh- hope you enjoy…Kathy

p.s. A huge shout-out to Sidle77 for her help in overcoming my problems posting this story here on this site. :)


---one hour ago…

Grissom had finished the second interview with the priest.

Brass had seemed less than convinced of the clergyman's innocence, yet there was something in suspect's eyes as he spoke of the deceased woman whose had died during the night, having been hung on a cross in a local church.

Gil recognized that look.

There was the confusion, the anxiety, the self-preservation that refused surrender to deep-seated feelings.

He'd seen eyes like that stare back at him in his own reflection.

They were the tormented eyes of a man hopelessly in love.

Yet, with all those emotions there was something else, something that made Grissom's blood turn cold.

There was the finality of loss.

Having quickly excused himself when the formal interview ended, Gil had slipped out into the deserted hall and entered the observation room.

Locking the door behind him, Grissom had sat and gazed out onto the scene before him.

Brass was in "bad cop" mode, hounding the priest for explanations he was unable to give.

Grissom could empathize.

Though the formal interview had ended, the suspect's words assaulted him even now in almost accusing tones.

"We only made love once. But in doing so, I found the husband in me, the father in me…I wanted to be that man for her…with her…"

Gil's shoulders slumped dejectedly.

Oh god…what have I done…

----two weeks ago…

They had agreed to go slowly.

After Sara's ordeal at the hands of Adam Trent, they started spending quality time together in very frequent intervals.

Gil started inviting Sara to breakfast at the diner after shift, and if they worked a double he would call to be sure she got home safely then continue to chat a while as she drifted off to sleep.

Their conversations became more relaxed, as couples will do, with Grissom finding his anxiety diminishing over this being merely a "crush" on Sara's part.

Still, it took weeks before he purposefully scheduled them both off for the same shift, and handed out the week's assignments in their usual sealed envelopes as the team sat in the breakroom.

Each member was so busy studying their next week's workload that the others failed to see a post-it note attached to the Tuesday column of Sara's calendar.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" it read, and immediately Sara sputtered the remaining coffee that had not already made its way down her esophagus.

Gil was immediately at her side, pulling her up from her chair as she clutched her paperwork to her chest.

Tapping her soundly a few times between her shoulder blades, the others guffawed and teased her about her reaction to her schedule.

They suggested she over-reacted to being forced to take a night off, and even Grissom played along scolding that Sara not even think about coming in on that night.

After Warrick's chiding, "Imagine that," everyone snickered and went back to reconciling their schedules.

No one seemed to notice that Gil's open palm still remained making gently soothing motions across Sara's back.

Their dinner was simple fare: crudités over a glass of white wine, followed by a large dinner salad topped with cold shrimp and hot dinner rolls accompanied by another glass of wine.

They had agreed to skip dessert at Sara's suggestion, and had taken their glasses onto the covered back porch of Grissom's townhouse.

Conversation was easy, the mood was light and comfortable,

As the moonlight began to illuminate their positions on the low-riding glider, they continued to sit close together as they rocked aimlessly under the full moon.

At some point, the glasses were placed on the screened window's edge, and Sara found herself cozy and warm in Gil's embrace.

All too soon, however, the midnight chime of a nearby tower signaled that their perfect night was coming to an end.

"Stay with me?" Gil had asked, surprising even himself as with his casual tone.

"Griss-" Sara started to protest, attempting to sit up and out of his grasp.

But he had refused to relinquish his hold on her; perhaps it was the darkness that buoyed his courage.

"Gil…please, honey…Gil when we're alone…" and he had kissed her temple before settling them back into a comfortable position.

Sara was fighting an internal war, her rational side screaming that he wasn't ready for this and that she couldn't stand the heartache of him pushing her away again.

"Gil," she turned towards him, the moonlight erasing the years as her eyes now could only see the return of the man she had fallen hopelessly for all those years ago.

"Stay with me, Sara," he had breathed out, his need to be with her overcoming his ever-present anxiety over the possible career suicide of pursuing his attraction to her.

Before she could protest, he had kissed her into silence.

The kiss was neither invasive nor reticent.

Instead, Gil had poured out his heart and soul into their lips meeting – and Sara felt her resolve break.

The next few hours were spent in the glow of being together intimately.

He touched her, she fondled him, they came together in frenzy again and again in the tenuous joy of making love to your soul-mate.

Sara had stayed with him that night, and after she had fallen into a secure dreamscape it was Gil whose overactive imagination kept him from sleeping at all.

It wasn't that he had regretted his actions.

Peering down at the top of Sara's brown curls resting across his shoulder as he cuddled her close, he kissed the top of her head and thanked the heavens for her patience with him.

Yet as the new day dawned, Grissom began allowing the specter of his insecurities to overwhelm him, his breathing becoming more shallow as he began biting his lower lip in conflict.

How can we be together without being found out?

I've worked my whole life to get where I am professionally.

What if someone finds out about this relationship?

We both have so much to lose.

I know it wouldn't be fair, but I know I'd wind up blaming her for having to give up my comfortable life.

Perhaps she could switch shifts – no, then we'd never see each other.

I need her to stay on nights with me.

I need her.

What's worse, if she ever did switch, I just know she'd find herself another man to attract her attention.

The lab's crawling with young libidos, always sniffing around her.

She always seems not to notice, yet she's quick to smile and engage everyone in conversation.

Why does she have to encourage them like that?

Maybe she doesn't really feel as deeply for me as she pretends…maybe I'm just "the one who got away".

Maybe –

At that moment, Gil couldn't be sure he could contain the negative emotions that were welling up inside him.

He didn't see how he could take the chance to deepen this relationship, yet he was crazy with jealousy at the thought of Sara with someone else.

Easing Sara away from him, he silently had made his way from his bedroom as he grabbed some clothes intent on changing in the guest room.

He'd planned to make some coffee, clear his head, wake her, and confront his anxieties about furthering this relationship with her.

No sooner had he finished with his belt buckle than he heard it.

Cursing as he flew back into his room, he snatched his cell phone from the night stand, but not before turning to stare into Sara's sleepy, morphing into puzzled, gaze.

"Grissom," he barked as he turned away from her questioning stare, refusing to look as the dawn of recognition crossed her features.

"I'll be there in twenty," he sighed and clicked his phone shut.

Bracing himself, he squared his shoulders and prepared himself to meet her questions.

Taking a deep breath, he donned his emotional mask and turned to lay the cards on the table.

But his bed was empty.

Gil's heart lurched as large steps led him to the hallway, almost bumping into Sara retreating from the guest room fully dressed.

"My, uhm…my shoes, were uhm, here…uhm…oh, by the back door," she struggled against the onslaught of tears that awaited permission to fall.

Her pain was palpable, and once again Gil was struck by her willingness to surrender what she wanted for what she felt he needed.

And in watching her graceful acceptance of his pushing her away this time, he had never felt like such a heel.

Still, as always happened to him when put on the spot, he could only stand there and watch her prepare to leave.

Needing to distance herself from this man who now had possessed her mind and body, Sara struggled to maintain her composure for just a bit longer.

Against all odds, Grissom had made his move, he'd done everything right.

She had asked him to try, and he had.

Yet in the light of day, it was obvious what was happening here.

She just wasn't enough.

Her whole life, she had just never been good enough for someone to want her.

Her disastrous childhood, her horrific experiences in foster care, even surviving being used and abused in college…she just thought this time she might get it right.

He had always felt like home to her.

The only home into which she'd ever wanted to curl up and happily disappear forever.

Images of her vagabond existence in being assigned from one foster placement to another threatened to overwhelm her.

She needed to get out of there…now…before he watched her fall apart.

"Thanks for dinner," she muttered bravely as her hand pulled on the knob to escape.

"Sara," Gil all but whispered, not wanting her to leave but not knowing how to squelch his fears and figure out how to make this work.

Pulling herself up to her full height, Sara donned the small, well-practiced, a bit too-forced, smile.

"It's fine, it's…"

But the words scorched her tongue.

It wasn't "just one of those things".

This moment hurt more than she could ever imagine, had ever experienced – even as compared with the pains of the past.

For a few hours last night she had fooled herself into believing they just might have a future together.

Instead, she now found herself preparing to leave and to figure out how to live without him, again.

Except that now - now that she had felt his arms around her, his lips pulling her to him time and again, felt his need for her in their frantic coupling – this time, he had broken her for sure.

"I'll see you at the lab," she choked out, turning the knob and soft closing the door on her happily ever after.

----forty-five minutes ago…

Grissom moved to the two-way glass and leaned heavily against it, staring at the man in priestly garb, himself staring off into space.

This man of the cloth had loved that woman for what now seemed like their whole lives.

He had put his career choice ahead of his feelings for her.

He had tried to believe that making this career choice was fulfilling his needs.

And this priest had helped many people, had found people who supported him and welcomed him, acknowledging again and again the impact he had on those entrusted to his care.

This person was effective in his pursuits, and had earned significant recognition for his efforts in and out of his community.

This man had a dream life in the public's perception.

Yet, after taking stock of all he had done with his life to this point, this man had been brave enough to sacrifice all of it - to be with the woman he loved.

This priest had made his decision – even seemed joyful about coming to terms with his need for this woman - and had begun the steps to give up the successful professional life he had taken years to forge.

But this man, who now sat so forlornly before him, had waited too long …and his dreams of their happily-ever-after romance had ended in tragedy.

Yet, Gil couldn't help but wonder.

If she hadn't been murdered, what would their life have been like?

Grissom gazed upon this man just staring into space as Brass ignored his plight while conferencing on his cell phone.

This man was just entering his middle age, and suddenly Gil's mind's eye imagined this figure in flannel shirt and jean…holding their newborn child…an easy smile reaching his eyes as he stared into the loving eyes of his new bride.

Grissom could just see them driving on a warm Spring afternoon, and the woman he loved reaching over to hold his hand as her fingers entwined intimately with his as they rested on the console.

Gil imagined them walking along the beach in Summer, her hair whipping softly in the ocean breeze.

He could almost hear her laugh, and imagined the man spinning her around to gently lay a kiss or two across her happy smile.

While these snapshots assaulted his thoughts, the faces blurred and suddenly were morphed into those of himself and Sara.

The images took Grissom's breath away and he groped blindly for the chair as he lowered himself roughly before he fell to the ground.

His head snapped up and he fixated on the countenance of the suspect.

The emotional toll he found there in the suspect's grief gripped him so fiercely that Gil fought to breathe…

Since that night two weeks ago, Sara had managed to take quite a few days off by calling in all her IOU's with Nick, Warrick, and Catherine.

Truthfully, Grissom had been relieved the first shift back knowing that Sara was hurting but selfishly assuring himself she'd be better in a day or two.

When the second week arrived and a slightly-weary Nick trudged into the breakroom, Grissom had been fuming.

Just how far was she going to take this?

Grissom had assigned everyone solo, hiding in his office under the pretext of paperwork.

By midnight, he had been all caught up and found himself thinking of her.

This hiding away from work was something new, he thought.

Usually Sara hid away from her problems by coming to work, he frowned.

His guilt was compounding as he realized he had even taken this safe haven away from her because of his selfish actions.

Picking up his cell, he had hit speed dial #1 and frowned deeper when her message said she'd be away for a few days and planned to be back on the 16th.

His eyes had fallen on his large wall calendar announcing today was only the 11th.

Grissom had closed the phone and sighed.

Glancing at his calendar, his heart had clenched as he realized Sara would be not be back for almost another week.

This was so unlike her.

Grissom suddenly began to envision her returning with her resignation in hand having spent this time away looking for a new job.

Sighing, he had leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

It was fruitless to speculate, and one truth was becoming abundantly clear.

Sara had spent their entire relationship waiting for him…now, it was his turn to wait.

Gil's heart raced a bit at the thought of not being able to see her, to explain why he had pulled away from her, to plead for the friendship he did not desire to lose.

Yet as he had slumped back dejectedly into his chair, he was still unsure of what type of reception he would get from Sara upon her return…

Gil pulled himself from his memories and stared intently on the slumped-shouldered man who continued to sit silently across from Brass.

That face before him was painted with regret – certainly over the loss of the woman he loved, but yet Grissom felt there was something else.

"…we only made love once…"

A memory washed over Grissom and made his blood go cold.

"By the time you figure it out, it really could be too late."

Again, Gil's eyes snapped to the man's gaze and he found the answer he dreaded uncovering.

He had waited all these years, pushing her away until he couldn't resist her any longer.

He had waited…and now he was too late…

Surprisingly, Grissom didn't find any regret in the suspect for having given in to his need for this woman, for having effectively giving up his career choice.

"…I found the husband in me…"

The realization overwhelmed him as if he had been hit by a ton of bricks.

"…I found the father in me…"

His heart sagged heavily as he thought about how he had lost himself in her as they had made love over and over that night … that night which right now seemed like an eternity ago..

"…I wanted to be that man for her…"

His chest ached with the sudden clarity of just how much he needed Sara, and was overwhelmed with the knowledge of how deeply he had hurt Sara by his indecision.

"…with her…"

Gil hated himself right then for what he had given away.

He prayed to heaven above that he wouldn't be too late to make this right.

Standing alone in the soundproofed room, a single sob resonated in the hush as Grissom suddenly was consumed with a single-minded desire to find Sara.

He hoped she would give him time to explain what he had learned about himself in this epiphany.

Gil Grissom swore he would not be too late…

------two hours ago…

Sara had gotten the "all hands" call from Brass during swing shift.

While she had been dreading their first encounter, somehow being involved in a case would minimize their personal conversations as Sara knew Grissom was single-minded when steeped in an ongoing investigation.

Having arrived at the lab, she would have to admit to some happiness in being back into familiar surroundings after holing herself up in her apartment for the last two weeks.

Licking her wounds in private was something she had become accustomed to in her life.

So she had parked her car in the long-term lot at the transit center and taken a cab back to her place.

By all outward appearances, she had gone away for a while.

But she had remained in her apartment, her tears eventually flowing to a stop as she regained her equilibrium.

Yet fourteen days didn't seem long enough to prepare herself to accept the friendship which was all Gil had to offer her.

Ready or not, she mused as she had swung open the door to the lab.

Suddenly, Sara was pried away from her musings as an irritated Ecklie was marching up and down the corridor barking assignments to the arriving lab techs.

Spying Sara near the break room door, he made no effort to disguise his contempt towards her as he sent her to the morgue to await the arrival of the victim.

After a lengthy wait for David to return, she was finally alone with the body.

Sara took a moment to uncover the face of this victim, identified as being with child.

Shaking her head at the depths of horror people visited upon each other, she sighed deeply before moving into work mode.

It was quiet here and she found herself easily moving through the procedure of collecting evidence while speaking reassuringly to the victim from time to time.

Focused totally on the task at hand, Sara was not aware of Grissom's agitation in his current failed attempts at trying to find her.

----the present hour…

His feet pounded in beat with his heart as his head twisted to inspect each lab in search of Sara.

Nick was distractedly reading a casefile as he stepped out of the break room only to be almost rundown by his boss steamrolling down the corridor.

"Whoa, hold up, Grissom! Everything okay?" the Texan asked a stunned Grissom as the two narrowly avoided a collision.

"Sorry, Nick…have you seen Sara?" Gil asked anxiously, his inhibition towards leaving any type of evidence of their involvement had long since evaporated after his epiphany.

Clueless as to motive, Nick casually remarked that he had overheard Ecklie assigning her to the morgue.

Gil reacted as his lips curved ever so slightly before moving to relay his thanks, and Nick looked after a determined Grissom striding towards the morgue with purposeful steps.

Hope Sara's going to be able to handle whatever THAT is about, thought the CSI as he shook his head and went back to reading the casefile at hand.

Sara's mind was so focused on removing the splinters of wood from the victim's feet that the impatient slamming open of the door behind her barely registered.

Grissom was almost giddy in finding her, yet tried to look casual, not making eye contact with the beautiful object of his search.

As he sauntered closer to Sara, the unmistakable Grissom-scent alerted her to who it was that had entered the room.

Her worry of the last few days at their inevitable "first meeting" since her self-imposed vacation vanished as her mind continued in work mode.

The first words out of her mouth were professional questioning about the presence of bushes in the vicinity of the crime scene.

Happy that she was at least speaking to him as he savored the lilting tones of her voice, Grissom rambled about the presence of shrubbery near the church entrance and against the neighboring center.

His ease in responding consequently set her at ease enough to realize that at least in working together they could both be civil to each other.

"Did you anticipate my asking you that question?" she teased half-heartedly, testing the waters of this fragile work relationship as she dared for the first time to look him in the eye.

"Memory's a gift," he responded softly, and for a moment Grissom held her gaze with his own.

Oh, Gil…but how I wish you'd remember how good it felt to make love to me…

She turned away just then, missing the responding emotion in his eyes.

Oh, Sara…I remember how it felt to touch you, to taste you, to sink into your warmth…it was like coming home…

Sara refused to look at him again, returning her comments towards the circumstances surrounding the murder.

As often happened when she was around him, Sara began over-talking.

Mention of her lack of belief in a single deity, she did begin to mention how she used to love to read the lives of the saints which she did when exposed to the literature at one particularly religious family during her foster care.

Knowing that she was opening up to him, Gil was intent on listening when he became slightly distracted in noticing the odd markings around the strangulation point of the victim's neck.

The markings were familiar, reminding him of his mother's rosary beads.

I want to open up to Sara…let her know I want this to work between us…she's letting me see an intimate peek into her past…I think I know just the thing-

Before Sara had finished speaking, Gil had turned and all but thrust himself out the door.

"Way to go, Sidle," Sara chastised herself aloud, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

Just what he wanted to hear…first you mock his religious beliefs, then you droll on and on about some stupid teenage fascination – like he would even care…

Her eyes misted over, but she had promised herself she wouldn't do this anymore.

Looking down at the victim, Sara frowned sadly as with a gloved hand she gently eased her finger over the bruised area.

"I promise you I will find out who did this to you," she whispered, and steeled herself to finish the task of collecting and recording the evidence on the victim.

Meanwhile, Gil all but tore open his locked desk drawer, rifling through it to retrieve the only personal effect he had kept after his mother's funeral.

Racing back down the hallway towards the morgue, Hodges leaned out into the hallway curiously watching his boss retreating down the same corridor he had just raced up.

The man's moving like his life depends upon it, the nosy lab tech thought before shrugging and moving back with a smirk to retrieve DNA data that he was sure would crack the case and win him an "Attaboy!" from Grissom.

The door to the morgue flung open again, this time Sara was slightly startled but managed to keep her composure.

As Gil was staring at the victim's bruising, Sara set down her collection tools and pulled herself upright enough to gaze sideways at Gil without actually turning towards him.

"Something I said?" she asked softly, her voice momentarily stuck in her throat.

Take a deep breath, Gil…she's still talking…don't blow this chance to make things right…

After a beat, Gil kept his vision on the body as he responded, "No, dear."

The endearment hit home, and Sara was again momentarily taken aback.

The last time he used that term was when I asked him if he was sure he wasn't too tired for that second round of lovemaking…

Her skin tingled at the memory, and she tried to focus on something other than the stirring that was occurring deep inside her.

"I didn't offend you, did I? Did I say something offensive to you as a Catholic?" she asked as she braved a look into those eyes that had her at "hello".

"No, dear," Gil rushed as he turned immediately to the body.

Sara, taken back a bit by the repeat of the unexpected endearment, pressed him further.

Gil fought every urge to turn and grab onto her, to tell her how much he needed her in his life, and whisper apologies and assurances marked with a trail of kisses.

Instead, he went off on some lofty diatribe of his current status of religious beliefs.

Sara waited patiently, guiltily delighting in the attention he was giving her despite their current location.

She knew it wouldn't last, that he would realize he had actually been sharing a part of himself and turn away to distance her further.

Instead, this whole encounter began to puzzle her more as he answered her tauntingly incredulous stare at the rosary beads in his hands.

"These belonged to my mother," he added wistfully before turning to employ this family heirloom to narrow down the field of possible murder weapons.

It made him smile for a moment that his mother would revel in providing the means necessary to helping find the perpetrators of such a vicious crime.

Her sense of justice had been absolute, and not for the first time Gil pondered how she had instilled that ethic in every aspect of her childrearing.

Justice for all, she drilled into me…and I've tried to provide just that…except for my Sara…what would Mom say about how I've treated her?

His thoughts became garbled as he sensed Sara looking over his shoulder to consider his hypothesis about a rosary being the murder weapon.

Grissom turned slightly towards her, and their geek mindmeld held true as Sara immediately reached for the very camera Gil could not reach due to holding the beads in position over the bruised area of the victim's neck.

Sara's body grazed his side as she snapped the photos, and it was all Gil could do to keep his emotions in check.

Pulling back now and totally focused on the case, Sara turned away from Grissom and returned the camera to her kit.

Leaning upwards intent on finishing her processing of the victim, Sara was shocked to find herself being twirled around into Grissom's arms.

At first she started to pull away, embarrassed that she had lost her balance and had innocently invaded his personal space.

After all, Gil Grissom was nothing but the sole of propriety where keeping on a purely business face where the lab was concerned.

That is why when she felt herself being gently slammed against the cool steel that lined the morgue she lost her bearings completely.

"Uh, Grissom," was all she managed to eek out in confusion before his mouth slammed down onto hers with such passion her next breath was a soft moan.

"Sara?," Gil whispered into her hair as he let them come up for air, only to repeat the passionate meeting of lips as he pressed into her more firmly.

This time when he pulled away, she was absolutely speechless.

Gil chuckled a little as he watched Sara struggle to open her eyes as she strained to get out a choked, "Hmm?"

Grissom waited until she finally opened her eyes which immediately misted over as she stared into the loving gaze of this enigma of a man.

He continued to press her to himself, his daring act apparently worrisome only to Sara.

"Gil…maybe…I mean…we should –" Sara began in an attempt to remind him of the possibility of being discovered.

However, Gil merely allowed the need that was surging inside him to interrupt her with another mind-blowing kiss.

"Oh, we shall, my dear," he kissed her a bit softer, raking his eyes lovingly over her features which were burned into his memory,before kissing her once more and adding, "that is a promise…"

Sara shook her head slightly as her eyes closed tightly for a moment.

Had she just suffered a brain hemorrhage, or did Gil just admit he wanted…her?

Chuckling again softly at her confusion, Grissom released his hold on her a bit, glad that their lab coats would cover his painfully obvious physical reaction to such a grand display of affection for this remarkable woman.

When she looked up at him, Gil almost gasped at the raw emotion that registered from her expression.

"You've chosen a fool to love, Sara Sidle," Grissom spoke pointedly as he breathed out a deep-seated sighed when the painful memories of the events of their parting two weeks ago washed over him.

She looked on at his misery knowing he, too, was recalling their last goodbye.

And as was her nature where it concerned this man, Sara was quick to forgive him anything, to want to ease his pain – as it was all she ever wanted to do.

Her hand snaked up to cup his cheek gently.

"Yes, I have," Sara smiled slightly, and from the rays of joy smirking from her expression, Grissom felt his heart start beating wildly.

"But you are my fool to love," she continued as she pressed herself to his lips and found herself finally home.