Something that just needed to be written that has no real purpose other than curing my boredom. It's not exactly Sandle, but there's definitely some mentions of what could've been and a dash of GSR here and there. All in all I suggest you just read it, and hopefully enjoy it too.
Contingency
There is a strong possibility that when she finds him, she will kill him.
The threat, while very real and capable of putting the fear of God into most anybody, is met with nothing but the mechanical greeting of the voice mail machine and she snaps the phone shut with more force than necessary. She grumbles under her breath and pulls her coat tighter around her small frame, feeling the gaze of those around her as they watch her with wary and wondering eyes.
For the better part of an hour she's scoured what seems like the entire strip of Las Vegas, looking for the man in question who was about to miss a milestone in the life of their close knit team.
At two o'clock that morning Sara had awoken to the chiming of her cell phone, the small device vibrating against the wooden dresser and emitting a soft hum. Nick's voice had greeted her, filled with the excitement that could only come from that of an expectant father and he had made immediate work of corralling those on the team, all except Greg, who had not answered his phone.
There had been questioning, some assumptions on the part of their friends, knowing the two could normally be found in each other's company. But instead of denying and going on to defend her person Sara had all but rolled out of bed and set off to find out exactly where Greg was.
After a trip to several of his favorite bars, numerous calls to his cellphone and a quick trip to the lab she comes up empty handed and scathing mad. Finally, she decides to check his apartment and much to her relief she sees the shiny black Denali in its normal parking space. Pulling into the spot next to it, she scowls and folds her arms across her chest.
She is definitely going to kill him.
Pulling herself out her car she stretches, arching her back as she begins to yearn for her bed and the toll of working a triple the previous night quickly catches up to her and if she didn't love Nick as much as she did there was no way she would still be awake. Outside of his apartment she pulls her keys from her pocket, flipping through and finding Greg's with ease. She's had it as long as she can remember, uses it almost as much as her own. The thought paints a smile on her face.
Inside the flat it's dark but after spending countless nights there she can find her way around with ease and makes quick work of finding the bedroom where she peers inside with curiosity and a hint of worry. From the doorway she can hear the soft snoring, sees the mass underneath the blankets as the lights of the city pour through the curtains and she huffs out a breath.
Greg was asleep, his cellphone on the table beside him and Sara feels red hot anger surge through her as she rushes the bed and reaches out a hand to bring him out of whatever amazing dream he seemed to be having. Shaking him roughly she calls his name, earning a groan and the swipe of his own hand in her direction.
"Greg," she says his name louder this time, frustrated and exhausted. This time he moves, rolling onto his side and cracking open a hazel eye. He furrows his brows and watches her closely before he yawns.
"Sara?" his voice is small and childlike, laced with sleep and confusion that makes her giggle.
"Yes it's Sara. Now get up," she pushes him over, clearing a section of the bed and sitting down, happy to be off her feet. Greg props himself up on one elbow as he scrubs his face with his hands, meeting Sara's angry eyes and swallowing thickly.
"So, what are you doing here?"
"You didn't answer your phone." Her eyes dart to the small device as he picks it up, eyes bulging as he notes the number of calls and text messages he's missed. He smiles sheepishly and tosses it onto the pillow.
"Mandy's in labor," she says plainly, ignoring him as he stares at her with mouth agape. He looks ready to run to the hospital in nothing but his pajamas.
"What are we doing here then? Let's go!" before he can hop out of the bed she grabs his arm, pulling him back down and settling into the mattress with a sigh.
"Greg, do you even know how long labor takes? We have a few hours and you owe me at least a cup of coffee for searching half of this city for you." Greg sheepishly ducks his head and hauls himself to his feet, unsteady and still exhausted.
He walks toward the bathroom and Sara follows, leans against the doorframe as he pulls out his tooth brush and he watches her through the mirror. She looks tired, and not in the sense that she's had about ten hours of sleep in the last three days, but in that she is worn out. He knows things have been rough with Grissom, rougher than she'll even admit to him but he doesn't fault her for it because everyone has their secrets. He spits a mouthful of foam into the sink and catches her eye when he looks back in the mirror.
"Have you talked to Grissom since Nick called? You'd think he'd want to visit after the baby's born." He gives a slight shrug but Sara's face is still a stoic mask, gives away nothing even though her eyes seemed to flash for just a second. She shakes her head.
Of course not.
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth and looks down at the floor when Greg strips off his shirt and she goes to the drawer just outside the bathroom and grabs a plain grey one. He smiles when he takes it from her but she won't look at him. He frowns when Sara turns around and trudges to his kitchen and when he finally manages to find the jeans he's looking for he stumbles in behind her, blinking against the harsh light she's flicked on.
She's already begun to make the coffee, she moves around his kitchen with such ease some people wouldn't believe she didn't live there too. Everything was familiar to her, almost more so than in her own house and the thought is bitter and cold. If she didn't hate to be alone so much she might actually spend more time there. She flips the switch on the machine and when the steady hum fills the room she collapses into one of the stools beside him, propping her elbows up on the island and trying hard to ignore the way Greg's eyes were boring into her.
"Do you think you'll ever have kids?" he asks suddenly. There's no emotion in the question, no curiosity to suggest he actually cares about the answer but Sara feels her stomach twist regardless and she wrings her hands together without looking at him.
"I don't know," she finally admits in a soft whisper. "I don't really think they're in my cards…besides my home life is in shambles and the only way I'd ever get pregnant is if I slept with a stranger."
Greg huffs out a small laugh, runs his tongue over his lips. "Do you want kids?"
Sara squeezes her eyes shut and wishes he'd just let the whole thing go but he was stubborn and persistent when it came to her and she sighed before she finally looked at him through sad eyes.
"I think we both know I'm not motherly material." She ignores the shock etched on his face and turns the conversation. She can't stand the attention anymore. "What about you? Ever think of being a dad?"
She can't help but laugh when his eyes bug and he points a finger at himself. "Me? God Sar, I don't know. I always figured I'd get married and if she wanted kids we'd have them. Three to be exact." He puffs out his chest proudly and Sara shakes her head, chuckling.
"Three huh? Let me guess, they'll all be named Greg Junior?"
His eyes twinkle dangerously and Sara's afraid they're going to swallow her whole. "You know me too well Sidle." He laughed and leaned back in his chair, she could hear him breathing and she imagined the sad look reflecting in his eyes right now as he watched her.
"But really," she says after the silence began to eat at her, "are kids something you want?"
"Honestly? Yeah, I always thought I'd be married and have at least one by the time I was thirty. My mom always said she'd kill me if I didn't give her grandchildren and after the idea was in my head for a while I started to actually want it. Now I guess it's all up to chance." He shrugs and Sara bites her lip.
"Do you ever wonder why you're not married?" she asks, surprised when he just smiles at her. it's obvious she's missing something.
"I don't have to wonder Sara. I know why and it's not because I'm lacking in the looks department either…"
She playfully shoves him in response but her eyes quickly grow serious. "Come on, I want to know why the devilishly handsome Greg Sanders is still on the market after all these years."
Greg draws in a deep breath, because he knows the answer, it's the most obvious thing in the world to him and sometimes he wonders how she doesn't see it. How she doesn't feel it because it's been eating at him for the better part of a decade.
He looks deep in her coffee colored eyes and smiles. "It's you."
Sara blinks rapidly. "Me? I'm the reason you're not married?"
He nods and suddenly he regrets even saying anything. The lack of scathing, teasing words coming from the woman in front of him is startling. Maybe he's made a mistake.
"I always thought if I moved on, found someone worth living my life with that you would change your mind and you'd come to me. I've been so afraid of losing someone I didn't even have to begin with that I've let countless opportunities go."
"And now?" she whispers. Greg takes her hand in his, traces the lines of her palm and pretends she doesn't shiver at his touch.
"Now…" he says, "I can see that you've found the one person you love and even though he may not treat you the way I would, he makes you happy and that's enough for me."
He glances at the clock on his microwave and drops her hand. She pretends she doesn't miss the warmth. Instead she opts to watch him fill two travel mugs with the steaming black liquid and he slides one across the counter to her with a smile that held so much understanding she wasn't sure what to say.
She decides it's better if she doesn't say anything at all.
"We better get going or Nick is gonna flip."
Sara stands up with her coffee and before Greg can reach the front door she grabs a hold of his wrist and pulls him back to her. He towers over her, smelling like the fresh minty flavor of his toothpaste and stale cigarette smoke. It makes her stomach flip with a feeling she can't describe and weighs her down with guilt as it mixes with his earlier words that are echoing in her mind and when she stands on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek she feels like she's ready to burst.
"Thank you," she finally says when she pulls away. His eyebrows knit tightly together and his eyes are wide and teasing her.
"You're welcome;" he replies sarcastically, "remind me to make you coffee more often."
Sara punches him in the arm and his face melts into one of faked pain. "I'm serious. Thank you for telling me that. I didn't know…I didn't even really suspect… Shows you how blind I am."
"Sara, don't worry about it." He gives her the goofy grin she's grown so used to, "just promise you're not gonna run off with Grissom and leave me to babysit on my own."
"I promise."