Title: Beginnings
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: In an alternate dimension, CSI is mine and I'm making lots of money. Unfortunately, I've become stuck in this one, and CSI isn't mine. Does anyone have an interdimensional portal I could borrow?
A/N: Thanks as always to my beta, CSIShipperGirl for putting up with my perpetual inability to write out numbers. Also, for reference, "defending" is verbal shorthand for the last step before receiving a PhD. The PhD candidate has to go through a verbal defense of his or her thesis (in which his or her supervising committee tries their best to pick it apart and watch the candidate put it back together).
Grissom remembered warm summer nights in Boston, and wine in yellow plastic cups. He suspected that the alcohol he drank on that particular occasion was best defined as swill rather than wine, but he would ignore that fact for the purposes of this reminiscing session. It was always better to contemplate the past rather fuzzily or one risked remembering all the things one had done while young and stupid. Well, not so much young, but definitely stupid.
Seeing a beautiful brunette from across the room at a party--even a party attended out of politeness--would inspire any normal man to immediately approach her. But then, he definitely wasn't a normal man. If it had been a beautiful insect, sure…but a beautiful woman? That was a recipe for disaster for someone like him.
Luckily that beautiful brunette had approached him. He thought back to their very first conversation.
"Dr. Grissom, right?" she asked with a gentle smile as she approached him.
"Er, yes, Ms. –?" he flailed, thinking she looked familiar somehow, but with no idea of her name.
If anything her smile became gentler before she replied, "Sara Sidle. I'm signed up for your seminar on forensics. It looks very interesting."
"I hope it will be. What is your field of study?" he asked, curious as to her background.
"Physics, actually," she said with a self-deprecating smile. "I know, how do you get from physics to forensics?" she finished rhetorically.
"Well, it is a bit of a jump," he ventured carefully.
"Not really. Physics is about the relationships of matter and energy to other matter and energy. Forensics is about the relationship between matter and action. Does this speck of dust mean anything by its placement on this bureau? What kind of dust is it? Where does it come from?" she said earnestly.
Grissom was taken aback by her enthusiasm and intelligence. He hadn't thought about forensics in those terms, but she was certainly correct. In forensics, a rock could be just a rock or it could be a clue. In physics, a rock could be a rock, or it could be viewed in terms of its mass and velocity. The key in both fields was context. He doubted very many others would have thought of the situation quite like that.
While Grissom was thinking, he missed Sara's next sentence and sheepishly asked her to repeat it. He was relieved that she didn't seem offended, merely said, "I asked what you were doing here. You don't seem like the party type."
"I'm not. Dr. Braudt and I have known each other for several years and meet for lunch whenever we can. He's got a grad student who just defended, and he invited me to the party. I came more for the friendship than the party or the student."
"That makes sense. I know the grad student and how hard she's worked, so I'm here to cheer her on. Otherwise I'd probably be studying or reading or something equally wallflowerish," Sara responded matter-of-factly.
The conversation continued from there, but none of it was all that memorable except in how happy he was to be talking to this attractive, intelligent woman.
As he thought back on that long-ago conversation, his wife of twenty years turned to him and asked, "What are you thinking about with that wistful smile?"
"Oh, just the first time we met. Our first conversation at that party, when I was so happy that this gorgeous, intelligent brunette wanted to talk to me."
Sara smiled and said, "I remember that party, too, but I remember a quiet handsome man with so much more under the surface than anyone would ever suspect."
Grissom could not resist kissing his wife after that compliment, and the conversation waned for a period of time.
When they had both regained the ability to form coherent sentences, Grissom began chuckling. Sara looked at him questioningly and he shook his head.
"I was also thinking about the wine that was available at that party," he said, still chuckling.
"Oh, god, that was horrible stuff. I don't know where they got it. I didn't drink more than two sips all night," Sara said with a laugh.
"It couldn't be any worse than the beer that was on hand, though," Grissom countered.
Sara wrinkled her nose and agreed, saying, "I think they got that beer straight outta the horse."
"Hey, just for nostalgia, maybe we should find those brands again," Grissom said mischievously.
Sara's only response was a disgusted face and the word, "Ewww!"