Letting Go

Greg Sanders wanted a Pepsi. He wanted a Pepsi bad. So he inserted a few coins into the drink machine and pressed the button for a nice, cold Pepsi... but nothing came out. Damn it! He pounded on the button, each time chanting, "C'mon, baby" vigorously, but the only thing it continued to say was, "Insert $1.50." But he'd just done that! So he tried the other button to get his change back. But that didn't work either. No go. It ate his money.

Stupid machine! Good-for-nothing piece of—

He had a strong urge to kick the crap out of it, but refrained from doing so, just in case Conrad Ecklie was sulking nearby, being the lazy lurker that he was... and if Ecklie saw him kick the machine, he might suspend him for damaging lab property or something.

What a rip-off. Ecklie'd probably rigged the machine on purpose!

It was such a hot, summer day. The air conditioner in the break room had broken down, and they were still waiting on somebody to fix it. So there he was, trapped in the boiling, humid room, slumped on a chair, tired (mainly his right index finger from pressing that button so much) and dying of thirst, when his fellow coworker, Sara Sidle, came in, holding a bottle of Evian water.

He instantly perked up, and not just because of the water.

Almost as if she read his mind, before he even needed to open his mouth to salivate, she handed him the bottle. "Thirsty?" she asked, wearing her infamous smirk.

"Yes, please," Greg said desperately, unscrewing the bottle crap and pouring the water down his throat. Some of the liquid splashed down the front of his shirt, but he didn't care. Water never tasted so good. Mainly because it was Sara who'd given it to him. "Thank you so much."

Sara laughed at the amount of gratefulness he showed, just for a 500mL of water, all of which he'd already drank—that was fast. "No problem," she replied. She gestured towards the soda machine in the corner. "That machine's been broken for a few days. It ate Warrick's money, too. Ecklie hasn't gotten around to find someone to fix it yet."

"Yeah, figures," he mumbled. "He didn't care about our air conditioning, why should he care about the drink machine? I mean, he's got that nice, comfy office—"

Suddenly, Sara stood up, walked to the doorway, and turned around, looking very nervous. "Um, Greg," she began, her voice shaking.

He watched her intently. "Yes?"

"I need to ask you something."

Uh, oh. Here it comes. She looked serious. Did this have something to do with Grissom? It definitely had something to do with Grissom. He'd noticed, ever since Grissom left on his sabbatical to teach at Williams, that Sara hadn't exactly... well, been herself. She'd become more distant with her teammates, and it was hard to talk to her about anything other than work. True, it was always hard to talk to Sara about anything personal, but on occasions, he'd be able to get through to her. This time, not at all.

He'd seen the box. A couple of days ago, he came in early or his shift and had a brief chat with Judy, the crime lab receptionist, before clocking in. It was just a simple, friendly chat. When their conversation was over, he was about to leave when somebody arrived with a package for Sara Sidle. Upon noticing this, he decided to linger a little while longer. He tried to sneak a peek at the package and distinctly read the name "Grissom" in the return address.

It was serious. There was definitely something going on between the two of them, and this package made it official. After he'd thought about it, it was all so obvious. The looks, the smiles, the—the... eye-sex! At first, he thought it was all just some shameless flriting, but now... apparently not!

He'd always known he never stood a chance. But that never stopped him before. He'd never given up on her. Ever since that day back when he was still a DNA technician. She'd walked into his lab, cranky that she'd been called in on her day off, and told him that she hated him... and he knew. He just knew that she was the One. With a capital O.

And then the first time he asked her out, well... it didn't exactly go as according to plan. She'd definitely said yes—though only because she didn't know that it was a date—but it was a yes all the same. Unfortunately, she had to cancel at the last minute becauase she had a... hot case. Date or no date, however, it still looked like he was going to get a kiss. Sara had been so impressed by the research he'd done for her for her case, that she'd actually bent down to meet his eyes, placed a hand on his chest, and said, "I could really, really just kiss you right now."

It was like a dream come true. So do tell, why the hell did he turn away? Damn it, why, why, why? He'd looked down, turned the other way, and sighed. Well, he needed to prepare himself! Sara Sidle had just said she could kiss him! What was he supposed to do, rush into it? No way, that would totally ruin everything. He needed to take it slowly. Make the moment perfect. So he'd taken a deep breath, turned back, ready—

Only to find that she was already gone.

Ah... memories. So full of embarrassment and pain and regret. Six years—six long years—of wishing he could have something that was so far out of his reach. Because let's face it, Sara Sidle was way out of his league.

This was pathetic. There was no point. It was never going to happen.

Maybe he should just give up on her. After all, what difference would it make?

He sighed, leaning back down on his chair, preparing himself for her question. She was smiling very nervously, and her entire body was tense. She opened her mouth to speak. Yes, it really seems like giving up would be the—

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

—best... option... Scratch that last thought.