A/N - I like to see Sara get the good stuff she deserves after going through so much crap in her life. Thanks to GSFanatic, as usual, for the beta.

Oh, dear. He was talking about the mating habits of the Madagascar hissing cockroach...again. Or he was looking over a case file more intensely than usual. Or he was scrutinizing the last 3 digits of a license plate with Archie.

It didn't matter to Sara what Grissom was doing, because she found each and every activity more fascinating than the next. It was extremely irritating; this infatuation that seemingly grew out of control with each passing day. For a while, she thought it was over. After she was nearly busted for the DUI, Sara took the next year to put herself back together. She took it slowly; savoring each day like she never took the time to do before. Sure, she had her run-in with Catherine and Ecklie--nothing is perfect. Life was a learning process, Sara found, and she was going to get it right this time.

She didn't count on the intensity of her feelings for Grissom. But she was used to them, and dealt with it accordingly. After all, she'd had plenty of practice.

Tomales Bay, California - 1980

Sara sat on the stairs and pretended to do her math homework. Really, she could do it in her sleep. At 9 years old, she was far more advanced than any of her classmates in math.

What Sara was doing instead was carefully watching her father. Usually after dinner, her designated time for homework, he was watching TV, or drinking beer, or yelling at her mother--most likely all three at once. Every now and then, just to make things more interesting, she'd engage William in conversation. Laura preferred her daughter not to do this, as starting a conversation with William never tended to end well, especially when he'd been drinking. But she never stopped Sara, because the outcomes of these conversations were so interesting that sometimes she even found herself looking forward to them. Sara realized later that maybe Laura liked these confrontations because she had given up on starting any herself.

"Dad, can you help me with something?"

It was after dinner, and William was just settling into some baseball on TV. Sara knew she was asking for trouble. La ura knew, her brother Tyler knew, even Bailey, the family's beagle, knew she was asking for trouble.

William looked at his daughter like she was a science project gone wrong. She was used to it.

"What the hell are you talking about now?"

"Well, I'm having a problem with my math homework, and I was wondering if you could help me."

"Give me the book," he snarled. She gave it to him, and he actually looked at it for a few minutes. This was a surprise--Sara was sure the mere act of asking him a question would set off a chain of anger.

"I used to be pretty good at this algebra shit, you know," he told her. "My teachers always thought I was a good student."

What went wrong? Sara wanted to ask, but things were going so well and she didn't want to ruin it.

"My teachers say I'm a good student, too," she said instead.

"I don't doubt that," he said.

For 30 minutes, William and Sara went over her math homework together. Laura and Tyler watched, fascinated by this new dynamic in the Sidle household.

Sara knew most of the answers, but she even managed to learn a thing or two from William. And when they were finished, he patted her on the head and said, "Isn't it your bedtime?"

She smiled and nodded. She wanted to hug her father, or tell him she loved him. But she didn't want to press her luck. Needless to say, she went to sleep with a smile on her face that night.

But the n ext night, it was as if nothing like that had ever happened. And soon after that, Laura ended up in the hospital again, this time with a broken ankle. Tyler got out with a black eye, Sara with a dislocated shoulder. They would all get better; there'd be no lasting scars--on their bodies, anyway.

A few years later, while Sara watched as her mother put an end to the violence once and for all, she'd think of the night her father helped with Sara's homework. That feeling of wanting her father to love her like that again was tangible and real, and she thought that the cruelest thing about life was wanting something so bad and yet not being able to grasp it. It was the worst feeling in the world.

San Francisco, 1987

Most of the foster kids Sara hung out with dealt with their problems the usual way--sex, drugs, and rock and roll. It was the eighties, and that was the lifestyle of choice amongst Sara's peers at the high school. Her best friend Kate was into some of the harder drugs and tried to talk Sara into joining her. She did, sometimes. Sara liked experimenting. But smoking pot only made her sleepy, while cocaine made her stay up for days on end. That was something she didn't need--it only made her think of the dark things more often.

Sara's favorite drug during her foster years was music. The drug of choice was mostly punk, like the Ramones and the Sex Pistols, but her absolute favorite was Tom Petty. For some reason even unknown to Sara, she grew a dark and unhealthy fascination with this unusual-looking singer. When her foster brother and sister weren't in the room they shared with Sara, she'd put Damn the Torpedoes on the record player, close her eyes and let the shitty day she inevitably just had fade away.

At school, she had a poster of Tom Petty in her locker. She pasted a picture of him on her notebook. While she roamed the halls, she'd listen to him on her Walkman. Even Kate, who would often skip school to do cocaine in the parking lot of a strip mall with her older boyfriend, was starting to get concerned about Sara's unusual obsession.

"Sara, you know...you know you're never going to meet the guy, right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Sara asked, knowing how that sounded.

"Uh, because he's a world-famous musician, not some guy you met in the hall at school." Kate looked at her friend with pity. Sara didn't enjoy that particular expression.

"Well, you know--"

"And are you aware that he is old enough to be your father?"

"He's only 20 years older than me!" Sara tried to protest.

"And even if you did meet him, he'd maybe shake your hand and take a picture with you, but that's it. You know that, right?"

Sara frowned. Of course she knew that. But in her heart, she let herself dream of this older man taking her away to his big mansion, his big life, where she'd never have to worry about anything again. Sara was a rational girl. She loved math and science and got perfect grades. Her teachers all loved her and encouraged her to pursue her interests. And yet, in her mind, she couldn't stop thinking about having Tom Petty take her away from all her troubles.

"Look, Kate, I do know that. It's just that...my brain knows it, right? Of course my brain knows, but my heart doesn't get it. I know I'm kind of on the edge of fantasy and reality here, and perhaps I'm losing my grip. But who does it hurt? I know nothing will happen, but there's always that dream that maybe someday it can."

Kate rolled her eyes. "You need help, Sara."

How could she explain to Kate that maybe, just maybe Tom Petty reminded her of William? It wasn't that they looked similar, which they sort of did, or that they had the same voice, which they didn't. It's just that, whatever she'd been looking for in her father's eyes; she saw it in Tom's when he sang. It gave her the most incredible feeling of happiness when she closed her eyes and listened, and then an almost devastating feeling of emptiness once the music was over and she realized that she'd never be in Tom Petty's arms, and much more than that, she'd never be able to look in her father's eyes again.

Eventually Sara grew out of her fascination and started dating. She found dating to be easy, it was the part that came after that was hard. Maybe her standards were too high, because she could never find anyone that made her feel like the hole in her heart, the one left empty by her father, could ever heal. And then she met Gil Grissom.


Las Vegas, 2005

7 years. 7 years was how long she had known Grissom. 7 years was how long she'd been in love with Grissom. 7 years was how long she'd found Grissom to be the most frustrating person she'd ever known.

The two of them played a game. It had rules, winners and losers, give and take. Most of the time, she felt like she lost the game. It seemed like he would give her something amazing, take it away 5 minutes later, and just as she was done with him, he'd give a little more. And she'd take it, every single time, just to be disappointed again. After a while, she stopped trying and therefore stopped losing. It was a relief. But sometimes, she missed the game.

Things changed after Nick was abducted. Even though she still had that gaping hole in her heart, she felt it start to close ever so slightly. It wasn't because of her feelings for Grissom; it was because of her friends, co-workers and soul mates at the lab. Nick, Warrick, Catherine and Greg all gave her the satisfaction of knowing she made a difference in people's lives. They were invaluable to her, and she tried to be the same to them.

But still, after all the years of misplaced emotions, she could not get Grissom out of her head. Every move he made was just a reminder that=2 0it wasn't a move in her direction. The physical act of loving something and knowing, KNOWING that she couldn't have it, well, again she was reminded of how it was the worst feeling in the world.

It all changed in the summer. It was a miserably hot July morning in Vegas. Grissom and Sara were at a camping ground near Lake Mead, inspecting some bones that a park ranger found. Sara watched Grissom put some of the pieces of a skeleton together, and couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about Terri Miller in the process.

"So I was thinking," he said, picking up a metacarpal bone, "We should check out that veggie place you were talking about with Nick at the hospital last month."

Sara stared at him. She stared at him for so long that she forgot to talk.

"Oh, well, okay," she said finally. "That would be...nice."

"I think so," he said. "There are some things I think we should talk about, and not during work hours."

Sara couldn't help it--she grinned.

"Come on, can I at least have a hint? That's not fair, Griss, and you know it."

Grissom avoided her eyes and stared at the metacarpal bone while he talked. "Ever since Nick's...incident, I've just been thinking about things a lot. I've realized what my priorities are. I've been wrong, Sara. And now I want to be right."

Sara wasn't sure who was talking to her and what they did to Grissom. This was just not like him. But he finally looked up from the=2 0bone and grinned at her. One look into those pristine blue eyes and her heart melted all over again.

"Okay," she said. "Just as long as we, you know, take things slow. It's been a long time, and...I don't know if I can take it if...well, if--"

"I understand," he said. "I get it. It'll be as slow as you want. You've been patient for a long time. Now it's my turn."

Sara wasn't healed overnight. She didn't wake up and find herself whole again. But after a few months of Grissom matching her every step; after months of him trying again and again to prove to her that his affection and love was real, she felt something change inside of her. That feeling of craving something so badly but knowing it was just out of reach just didn't work for her anymore. Even if their relationship wasn't perfect, it was what she'd been looking for all along. And while she'd never be able to do math with her father again, and even though she'd never live in a huge mansion with Tom Petty, she still had her imperfect Prince Charming.

The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part

- The Waiting, Tom Petty -