Title: Say Something

Author: Summer Reign

Rating: T

Spoilers: Everything…and Butterflied.

Disclaimer: Owned by CBS. Loved by fanfic writers, everywhere.

Summary: A little ditty based on one line in the promo for the final episode of CSI.

XXXXX

They were working a case.

Together.

After such a very, very, very long time.

A big case. A personal case.

Together.

Oh, he said that already… In his mind.

"Together." The word that, right now, rivaled those carefully collected in the most beautiful sonnet.

Grissom knew Sara wasn't very comfortable with him since his return. He caught the not-so-subtle glares. She didn't understand the whole story. Or, she understood completely, but just didn't agree with the outcome. He faced that challenge, himself, a few years ago. You couldn't much love a person for their spirit and independence and then fault the same qualities when things didn't turn out as planned.

Still, between the glares were nostalgic looks and half-smiles, when she thought he wasn't looking. But, he was. And it gave him just a glimmer of hope.

So, so much to talk about. But…that wasn't really their forte.

And the fact was, he gave up too easily.

Maybe.

Maybe…it was all for the best and she was happy. On a personal level. His CSI "sources" might not share that fact with him in their monthly (or, in Hodges's case, weekly) emails. Maybe she found that diversion, after all. Probably outside, since she had no real romantic connection to the people in the lab. Well, maybe Greg.

Greg…no. That was one thing they had discussed. Just a "dear friend."

She didn't have a lot of those. Although, maybe now…

He wanted to ask her if she was happy without him. He wanted to know if she found someone else. He wanted to know how she could love him enough to actively pursue him, in spite of himself, for years and years, and when she got him…she left. Not for the temp job she made it out to be but for a job she suddenly couldn't tear herself away from. Well, except for their "visits." Hers became less frequent. His…were spent listening to details of cases and watching her run out to work, again.

He never gave it a second thought when she was running out to work to join him. It thoroughly annoyed him when it wasn't.

Water under the bridge.

Sort of.

Sara was beautiful. And she once was his. And he wished he could…do something.

Say something.

Anything.

That would just let her know.

Let her know he still loved her and always would.

That, in retrospect, he'd do it all over again. Just sooner.

In a heartbeat. Even if the outcome was the same.

She deserved that.

He remembered a case, long ago. Never prosecuted. It involved an evil, bitter man who Grissom, in some strange way, identified with, at the time.

Like Lurie's lover and victim, Sara gave Grissom the world…for a little while. Yes, she took it back but … he had it for that little while. And it meant everything to him. Unlike Lurie, Grissom wasn't bitter or homicidal, just…incomplete.

He watched her hands process the evidence.

Work. They always had that. And still did. For this brief period of time.

"I missed working with you," he blurted out.

There. He said it.

It wasn't poetry but she knew him enough, he hoped, to remember that lyrical words failed him when she was around.

And, maybe, just maybe…she'd get it.

"I missed working with you."

Seriously?

He could have been working with her for years now.

When things got rocky between them, she asked him to come back. He was a bit…offended. Pretended not to be but talked about closing books and not going home again and threw in something from Thoreau, if memory served. Not the quote about a rock for one, however. That much, she did recall.

He was probably expecting some sort of response.

The trouble was—words always screwed things up.

He didn't give her an ultimatum. "Choose Vegas or me." That would have been simple. Maybe. Instead, he told her he knew how important being a CSI was to her. But, he couldn't—wouldn't—go back. And he couldn't stand by and watch as she immersed herself in cases that became increasingly more dangerous since the lines between criminalist and police personnel were becoming increasingly blurred in Clark County.

What kind of response could she give him? "I'll choose you," when he never presented that option?

He was good at being a loner. And he'd do…just fine. And she…was coping.

Until now.

And that kind of pissed her off.

She opened her mouth to give some snippy reply her brain hadn't thought of yet, and then closed it again.

The truth was...she knew his heart.

He didn't say much, sometimes. Which was kind of ironic, really. Ask him about a bug and you'd get a virtual dissertation. Ask him about what he was feeling and it rendered him speechless.

But, there was that smile that reached his eyes. That softness that came over his face and let her know exactly what he looked like when he was a teenager…or a very young man. The vulnerability that he showed when he took just the smallest of emotional steps.

There was that sure way, once the initial awkwardness passed, that he took her in his arms and kissed her. No words necessary there.

And, there was that man she once watched through the interrogation room window—laying out all his insecurities about a possible life with her-for a criminal's ears.

She had been devastated for a while. And then, she wasn't.

She just continued loving him, keeping his particular sensibilities in mind. Because, really, there was no other option.

But, like the killer's lover, she left Grissom. More than once. Both times seemed like a survival move and had very little to do with her feelings toward Grissom. Her post-honeymoon return to CSI was…never intended to be permanent in any way. More like a conquering of new demons. But…it touched on his fear. It had to.

Why had she blocked Grissom's strange confession out of her mind? And why didn't it hit her before?

Well, probably because it ceased to exist after their exchange of vows and blissfully happy, but brief, life together.

And after, her anger toward him blocked out any possible reasons behind his actions.

Sad. So sad.

There he was, kind of looking ... well, Grissom-ish.

She was pretty sure he wanted her to say…something.

"I want you back."

"Come live here again. Work at CSI."

"Stay with me."

"We'll work it out."

Instead, she heard the words coming out of her mouth, "I missed working with you, too."

She finished processing and went to the other side of the room.

Before she did, she reached out and gently squeezed his forearm.

Message: transmitted.

Hopefully.

XXXXX

She still loves me, he thought.

And then thought he was an idiot for being so childish. What was next? Getting a daisy and plucking each petal to find out if his girlfriend really cared?

But…he knew her heart.

Really knew it.

Sending her off with a "goodbye, find someone else who will make you forget about being in this dangerous, dangerous profession that you are far too personally connected to," had been idiotic. Sticking around and convincing her of that fact would have taken hard work and he had been so used to it being easy. Well, far from easy on a professional and conscience level, but very easy with respect to her feelings.

They never changed. They never wavered.

He had no idea what she saw in him, really. That one guy that he knew about…Hank. Complete opposite of Grissom. Her age. Handsome. Dumb as a brick, relatively speaking, but…

She had told him once, after Hank…that she didn't date any more.

She didn't see a need.

She saw who she wanted nearly every day.

Even during the tough times.

Being a lifetime bachelor didn't really prepare him for those things, though. Those practicalities. These, "I have to worry about her just as much as I worry about myself. Even more, sometimes."

Sacrifices.

Compromises.

Especially during times when they didn't seem to make sense.

She had allowed him to call the shots.

And that was quite a sacrifice on her part.

He looked at her across the room and felt the ache in his soul.

"We'll work it out, Sara. Let's…"

Yes, let's.

He sighed. He couldn't even finish that thought in his own mind.

Some things…never changed.

He never changed. Not really.

No wonder things…just didn't work out.

"Let's…try again." There. At least, in his mind, he finally finished that thought.

And, as always, she seemed to know when he was watching her. She turned around and looked at him.

Really looked.

No grimace. Just a sweet, unguarded half-smile on those lips he missed so much.

And there was a warmth in her eyes that wasn't there for quite some time.

Message: received.

Words….not necessary.

The End

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A/N: Wow. I never thought I'd write another GSR fanfic ever. Because, after the last one, there was no end in sight. No hope in sight. And I don't do well with hopeless situations. I was a bitter old fanfic writer. Actually, I haven't even read a fanfic in ages. But, then the Paley Center thing happened and pictures of the finale were released and, maybe, just maybe, things will work out. We'll see.

But, the thing is…when the finale was announced, I decided to rewatch just the Grissom-Sara era of CSI. I'm not even done yet. But, what a good show it was. What a beautifully original romance. And, when I saw the Billy-Jorja section of the Paley Center send-off, I realized exactly who was responsible for it, and how much it really meant to them.

So, whatever happens, happens. But, the bitterness is in the background now. Only for the episodes post-One to Go. The appreciation of a great, great roller coaster romance will always be there. And I will always thank William Petersen and Jorja Fox for that.