"I-uh-I have some things I need to say," Sarah glances down at her fingers and fidgets, glancing anxiously at her watch, "but not a whole lot of time to tell it in."
Greg, Nick and Hodges gaze at her puzzled.
"Break room?" Nick offers, packing the last of his things in a box.
As they enter Greg starts to pour coffee and Nick folds his arms.
"What's up," Greg says as he hands her a Styrofoam cup.
Sarah doesn't answer, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Sarah, we are always here if you want to talk but I still have to clean out the rest of my office and fill out final-"
She begins to speak over top of Nick, "Grissom didn't leave me."
Nick and Greg, pull the cups away from their lips. They both look hurt.
"I knew it!" Hodges yells triumphantly, nearly burning himself with the coffee.
Sarah glares at him, "Hodges..." The smirk disappears.
"So what DID happen?" Greg stammers, confused.
After a beat, "I left him."
She sighs, relieved of this burdened lie.
"I couldn't deal with another hotel room in another city and maybe seeing my husband once or twice a week. I thought some time apart might make us work things out. I thought-" she chokes these final words out slowly.
"I thought if I came home, to Vegas, I would at least have you guys to distract me. As time passed I realized Gil and me-we couldn't work, but I didn't want to tell you because I know how much we all adored him." She gazes at the ceiling, wiping her cheek. "I don't know, I guess selfishly I wanted to knock him off the pedestal we all put him on."
"Sarah, you were always part of our family, so was Grissom, but lying to us? That hurts. Sure, we love Grissom, but we love you too and if it's not meant to be it doesn't matter what happened," Nick wraps his arms around Sarah's body.
Greg slings his arm around her too. "We are always here for you Sara. It just might take a little time to deal with this."
"Time I do not have. The phone calls I ignored were his attempts to reconcile. I sent him divorce papers a few weeks ago, which he only agreed to sign if we did so face to face so I asked him to meet me-"
Hodges expression of anger and resentment subsides as he cocks his head and smirks.
Nick and Greg look just as distracted as they gaze past Sarah and down the hall.
"Hello all."
Sarah slowly turns around, confused, "Catherine?"
Catherine rushes toward the men, disregarding the new receptionist's shouts from the front desk.
"Surprise! I couldn't miss taking my favorite Nicky out for his big promotion!"
Catherine embraces the guys and then turns to Sara and whispers, "Griss wanted me to give you this." She slips Sara a piece of paper and puts a hand on her shoulder, then she hugs her too. "Go."
"So guys, drinks on me? In honor of Nick?" The guys look at each other and smile as they exit with Catherine, excitedly chatting away. Sarah stops listening as her attention is captured by the small card in her hand.
Hotel Monaco, where it all began…If you ever… please. - G
She swallows, her mouth bone dry, and sinks into the chair, finally allowing herself to cry.
The cool air tousles his hair as he heaves a heavy sigh. He glances at his watch again, as his thoughts race. He kicks at the rock below his foot and sighs again, slowly walking toward the alley beside the hotel. He absent-mindedly looks up at "Norman's demise" when he hears footsteps behind him.
"Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs. Roper?"
His heart drops into the pit of his stomach but he can't help but smirk. Jubilation and despair course through his veins, "I don't even have to turn around. Sarah Sidle."
Slowly he turns around, the paperwork in his jacket suddenly burning his chest, straight through to his heart.
Without another word he pulls the front door open and waves her inside. As she brushes past him and into the lobby she catches his cologne and slams her eyes shut, walking a bit faster.
You are tougher than this, she tells herself.
She sits at one of the many tables in the lobby and nervously fiddles with her jeans.
With an audible sigh he cocks his head to the side and winces as he pulls the manila envelope from his jacket. Hesitantly he pulls the papers out, gently places them on the glass table and reaches in his breast pocket for a pen.
He stares at her for a moment and smirks.
"You look good."
"So do you."
She nods, tears welling in her eyes again. A whisp of hair falls forward as she gazes back down at the table. Instinctively he reaches out and tucks it back behind her ear and then, as if burned, pulls his hand back.
"I'm sorry. Force of habit."
Sarah pauses, secretly wanting him to continue, to touch her, to hold her but is brought back to the harsh reality of the situation as he clicks the pen and nears the first page.
As he signs the first page, thinking about the date, she notices how grey his hair is now.
As he signs the second page she notices how labored his breathing has become.
As he signs the third page, she notices the tear stain slowly develop on the paper. He cocks his head to the side again, winces and tries to rewrite his smudged signature. Before he can Sara boldly covers his hand with her own and gently rubs her thumb over it.
He wipes his cheek with his free hand but makes no motion to move. After what seems an eternity to both of them he regains his composure, his hand shaking now, and hands her the pen.
She can't help but stare into his blue eyes, so much darker when he's upset, and suddenly she wants nothing more than to grab his head and pull his lips toward hers.
God, if you only understood the hold you have on me.
The pen feels so heavy in her grasp and she suddenly forgets how to sign her name. The words on the page blur as tears spring to her own eyes.
Irreconcilable differences….split assets…..FINAL divorce decree.
She signs, quickly. He winces at how fast she ended their marriage and for a split second hates her.
She clicks the pen shut and stares down at her signature on the paper. He gently takes it from her and tucks it away in his jacket pocket.
He nods, sadly smirks and rises to leave.
Now this stark white paper, the sum of their marriage, lies alone on the cold glass table.
Aluminum and rust, she thinks, wiping her eyes, and scoops the papers back into the envelope, tucking them under her arm.
As he silently slinks away, her words catch in her throat. Nothing comes out but a small squeak and then he rounds the corner and disappears from her life.
Suddenly her leaden feet take flight and she smashes her way outside, frantically looking around for some sign of him.
It's over, really and truly, she thinks to herself and she leans against the wall, staring up at the sky. The envelope falling to ground below.
*Ahem*
She looks over at the man leaning against the wall and stares deep into his baby blues, shocked for a minute.
"Grissom?"
"Where did you-" Her eyes well up with tears and she shakes her head as if to fight off what she is seeing.
"I just couldn't -" He leans over, picking up the envelope and for the briefest moment his hand brushes her arm. Nervous tingles, butterflies to most folks, flutter in her stomach and she swallows, hard.
Still holding the envelope he adds, "I-um-I spent a lot of time today, thinking and what I've come to realize is I can't be-that is- if you really want this-I won't-"
Suddenly he starts to giggle.
Sara stares at him, puzzled.
"I'm sorry," he stifles another laugh.
Now anger crosses her face and hurt. "I hardly think this is the time for laughter."
"No, no. You are right. It's just that-well – this," he swivels his head around as he hands the envelope back to her, "the beginning meets the end and life comes full circle … and it's SO morbid. If you think about it a man died here and now…" Quietly he stares up at the roof of the Monaco, winces, and adds, "…another. Guess this is the unluckiest place in Vegas when it comes down to it." They both smile at his feeble attempt at humor.
His expression turns deadly serious. He swallows hard and stares at her, "This is the end of us."
He pauses, looks away from her, as if continuing to gaze into her eyes would be so much harder, "I laugh because I simply can't cry anymore. I treasure what we had no matter how brief." His attention turns back to her, "I will never regret any of it. I laugh because I am Norman. I didn't jump, I wasn't pushed but I did fall….and by God Sara, I still am."
His words linger in the air between them and Sara's voice again hitches in her throat.
"Grissom- I've thought a lot too, about us, about what I told the team and I've come to realize I hate myself when I am not with you. I want to hate you Grissom. I want to smack you in the face for driving me away, for pushing me out and yet still having such a hold on me …. But I can't. I never could. I hate you because I love you. Don't you get that?"
"I do. Believe me. I do, but I can't be the perfect guy for you. I never could. I am so gloriously screwed up, I'm not even angry that you told the team I left you. I feel I owe you this," he points at the envelope. "It's the least I could do after-"
The flood gates open as she closes the distance between them and buries her face in his chest before he can continue. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds her against him, listening to her weeping.
As she calms down, she feels his chest slowly hitch against her, his body convulsing and she clings to him. Then in a rush of emotion she pulls the papers from the envelope, holds them out in front of her and begins to tear them in half, then in half again and again. He stands dumbfounded, wiping tears from his face as she tosses the shreds in a nearby dumpster.
She comes to him again, this time slamming her lips against his own. He pulls back to stare into her eyes, as if to silently ask if this is what she truly wants.
"I love you," he whispers. "I always have."
He cups her face in his hands and slowly moves in to taste her lips, tentatively, his heart pounding. Softly their lips touch and Sara audibly moans. He slides his tongue in between her parted lips and finds her own, as she wraps her arms around his neck.
He holds her close, breathing her in and closes his eyes, his body shivering but not from the chill in the air.
She pulls back slowly, gently running a hand through his hair, she smiles coyly. "Feeling lucky?" she asks, grabbing her husband's hand and leading him back into the hotel Monaco.
Finis
