The Changed Man

A/N: This was a homework assignment that I had to do the other night, using 15 vocabulary words from units 9 and 10 in our vocab book. But, this is FanFic. The characters used in this story do not belong to me; they belong to CBS. If I did own them, this would not be just a story. Minor spoilers if you haven't been watching the show since season 7. (This was done 2 hours before "19 Down..." (9x09)aired)

Early December, 2008.

It is 3 AM and the once-devoted scientist lies prostrate on his couch. His townhouse is dark; the blinds are closed, but it does not keep out all of the distant light radiating from the Strip, a few miles away. All that is there to keep this man company is his faithful, yet listless Boxer, now at his side. With his dog next to him, the Man contemplates his options. Should he stay here, in this career and in this city, and remain forever debilitated by the mistakes he made? Or should he leave his career of 22 years and, for once in his 50 years of existence, have a life? I probably lost that chance he thought, it's not like I did nothing to deserve it. His mind wondered back to three months ago.

One of his closest friends, the rock of my team, was shot in cold blood by the undersheriff of the county. And what made the pain worse was that he could do nothing as he stared into those moribund, green eyes of his fallen comrade. Not only did his friend die that night, but his belief in the justice system and his ability to stay detached died too. Since then, his usually detached attitude and zeal for the job had been replaced with difficulty to concentrate on "the little details" and an inability to not be affected by the death and horrors that come with each crime scene. Warrick's death was the scourge that made him the confused man he is now.

His thoughts then went to her. They met over ten years ago when he was giving a forensic-related seminar. He was the speaker and She was this vivacious, brown-eyed woman with a ponytail and an insatiable thirst for information. A year later, he hired her to replace another investigator that had died on her first night on the job. Working with him for about eight years had caused her to be garrulous around him, which he did not mind at all. And after all those years of flirting, angst, disagreements, friendship and unmentioned adoration for one another, he finally had the nerve to ask her out. It had been the best two years both of them had in the individual, flaw-ridden lives. As of three months ago, they had been separated—in the physical sense—for almost a year, when She decided that Vegas was no longer a salubrious environment for her. That being said, the Man was surprised to see her so soon after calling her about their late-friend's death, for he thought She may hesitate in coming back. But, for about the two weeks, things were going alright—being that these two star-crossed lovers have been apart for a year and are now reunited under such sorrowful circumstances. That was about to change.

This Man—, who has exalted the LVPD Crime Lab from number 14 in the country to number 2— still, after two years of dating, could not fully express his feelings directly to this woman. First, the Man indirectly said that he was not leaving his job for her when she suggested that they going somewhere away from here. As if he did not learn anything, it happened again that night, when She was helping on a case of euthanasia that involved a victim from a case that she worked on eight years ago. The problem was: She believed the deceased's husband's claim that the original attacker had threatened to violate his wife again, forgetting to stay objective. The Man had spoken with her in his office, discussing the case and why the husband killed his comatose wife. Then, things got ugly. The Man winced at approaching migraine as he vividly remembers what happened next.

"Sara, you have to consider the possibility that the husband may have up the story to justify his actions."

Indignant, She replied, "no. Absolutely not."

"I'm not saying he didn't love her. He loved her so much that he kept her alive for eight years. You are still a scientist. You know that after many years of atrophy she was not coming back to him. Sooner or later a relationship in stasis withers. You get angry….You need more than the safety of not being alone," he replied, unaware of the damage he just created.

Not knowing exactly where this is going, She then said, "then he should have just walked away."

"Well, maybe he couldn't. Maybe he needed her to leave him," was his laconic retort.

The same woman whom he had loved for the past ten years looked at him with the look he wished to never see in her eyes again: hurt. Hoping that what she thought was not the same as what was implied, she asked "…who are we talking about right now?"

The Man, livid with himself, pauses in his nightmare of a memory to take his migraine medication. Then, as the Man ingests them, he remembers the day She was taken by the psychopathic serial killer and left pinned under a car, out in the middle of the Nevada desert, to die. He remembers when they found her and how he felt partially responsible for her condition. She was not unscathed but she was still alive—dehydrated, but alive. He then remembers that video She sent he a little over a month ago.

"I want to apologize for being out of touch. I have been thinking about us a lot, though. All the moments. I thought we could survive anything. This trip has given me a lot of clarity. That last year in Vegas, I could barely breath, let alone think. But, um, now, for the first time in a really long time, I'm happy." He mentally kicked himself that Vegas had become noxious for her, and he didn't even see it. "Before I left, um, you said some things that I tried not to hear. But now I, uh, I think you were right. If a relationship can't move forward, it withers. I've been waiting for you to decide, but sometimes not making a decision is making a decision." It was not that he was not making a decision; rather it was that he did not know how to act in a situation like this. Heck, I've never been in a relationship this long for it to even get this complicated, he pondered. Many of their friends/ work-family had even tried—vainly—to exhort him into going after her.

The gist of it is: is that the Man would do anything for this woman who meant so much to him. And as he pondered this sudden realization, out of nowhere, he remembers the letter he wrote to her about two years ago, when he had her stay in Vegas while he went across the country for Sabbatical.

"Our parting was awkward. I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you. Even though we're far apart,I can see you as clearly as if you were here with me... I said I'll miss you, and I do.


As Shakespeare more ably wrote my sentiment in sonnet 47,
'Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other:
When that mine eye is famish'd for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:So, either by thy picture or my love,

Thyself away art resent still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them and they with thee;
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.'"

He then knew exactly what decision to make.

A couple of weeks later.

Ding-dong! "Who could that be," The woman asks herself. She pulls herself from her comfortable position on the couch. But when She opened the door, she got the unexpected answer to her inquiry.

"Gil, what are you doing here?" The woman questioned, still in shock.

"I, uh, came to see if…could please I come in?" he said, unsure of how to proceed.

"No," She said, possibly a bit abruptly, "I mean. At least answer my question first."

"Alright," pausing to lick his lips (his habit when he was nervous)," I know I haven't been the best…person to you n the past. And how are last conversation went, Sara, I'm just so sorry that I've had to make you want numerous months and years for me to decide what I want and what I need to do. But, you should have known that when we gotten together in the first place," he said with a hint of a sad smile on his face.

"True."

"But I came here, hoping that you have not already changed your mind….about us. And I know what I said that one morning and I acted upon it. I retired—"

"But—" She butted in, shocked at this self-proclaimed workaholic's admittance to divorce his beloved career.

In a peremptory move, he continued, "I retired. Despite the team's vociferous arguments for me to stay, I knew….actually for a while now, that I can no longer stay at the lab; in Vegas. I needed, still need, to be with you. And I know it would be a while before things can be as or better as before, but I am willing to commit to us; if you'll have me."

Several hour-like seconds passed when She finally looked up and gave the laconic reply he was praying for: "Yes."

FIN

So....what did you think of my first FanFiction story? Will it get me an A? Pls leave your reviews on your way out :)