TITLE:            Thousand Miles

AUTHOR:       Alison Nixon

RATING:         G                    

CATEGORY:  SRA, G/S UST

SPOILERS:     None, just BoP and PNN        

SUMMARY:   Grissom does the unimaginable by sending Sara the plant, but we never get to see her reaction.  If it had the effect he hoped for, why did it take his lovely beauty comment in PNN to bring back that high-wattage smile?

DISCLAIMERS: CSI belongs to CBS and Alliance-Atlantis Productions. No
infringement intended.  And no, I won't receive any profit from this story.

FEEDBACK: Of course!! You can always email me at anixon72@hotmail.com

ARCHIVAL: I'd be thrilled, just send me an email to let me know where my little friend will reside.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  Yeah, you've heard this before.  It's my first time doing this sort of thing, but CSI, G/S, and all of the great fanfic I've seen have inspired me to dive in.  I just had to resolve this lingering question in my mind about BoP and PNN.

******

As she gazed at herself in the small mirror attached to the inside of her locker, Sara was grateful that her eyes didn't give her away too badly.  Normally any redness stood out against her pale skin, but it seemed that last night's tears had not left too noticeable a trace.  Small favors, she noted.  She twisted her lips into what she hoped would pass for a smile.  Her emotions were still rubbed raw from her blowup with Grissom, but she'd be damned before she would let that show.   She could brood as much as she liked, but her face would be clear.  She straightened her slumped shoulders, made her face a blank, and headed into the hall.

She turned toward the break room, already edgy at the thought of running into Grissom.  Until the other night, that prospect would have given her a pleasurable thrill.  Now it just weighed her down, as she replayed the scene in her mind for the thousandth time.  She had been waiting for him to return and see the LOA request on his desk.  When she was sure he'd had enough time to read it through, she went in, arms folded defensively.  She had envisioned many scenarios of how that conversation would go, but what had actually happened still baffled her. "We have the best lab in the country. Everyone here respects you…"

He had been so sure of himself and his ability to get around her—as if she was some little child who would back down as soon as the adult in the room challenged her perspective. When she didn't back down, she could see something shift behind his eyes as he considered her.  She had seen that look on Grissom's face before during their roughest moments.  It always made her shiver a little.  She felt that tremor again just before she turned to go, and so when he called her name her heart rose in her throat.  I really thought he was going to say something real, something to show he was as unhappy as I was.  Instead he merely changed tactics.  "Hey Sara? The lab needs you here." 

I could have cried.  I realized then that it was hopeless to wait for him anymore.  If that was the best he could do in the face of my threat to leave, he couldn't possibly care for me.  I might as well be in love with myself. 

So it was time to move on, which meant saying goodbye to the others.  She was still unsure of what she would say when they asked what was going on.  They certainly wouldn't buy her newfound interest in the federal system, but the work environment story posed its own problems.  After all, the others could all claim to be fed up with Grissom's poor people skills too. If they weren't leaving, why should she?  Good question, but not one she was prepared to answer. It was humiliating enough to long for a man who ignored you; the whole world needn't know about it as well.  In her bitterness, Sara imagined that the others would have a good laugh at her expense if they knew.  Well, that wasn't really fair to Nick or Catherine, she admitted, but she knew Warrick would relish her predicament.  He already suspected she had feelings for Grissom, anyway.   Sara frowned. Yeah, that was just the perfect cap to Grissom blowing me off in the lab--Warrick getting in my face when it turns out I was right anyway--that girl's father torched the victim's apartment.  There I was filling out a damn leave of absence, and one of my supposed colleagues busts my chops for no reason.  Oh yeah, the feds are sounding better and better…

Lost in thought, she didn't realize that she had arrived at the door of the break room until she nearly passed it.  She hesitated for a moment, and then stepped inside.  Nick and Warrick were sitting at the table, talking quietly with coffee mugs in hand.  They offered subdued hellos, and eyed her warily.  Nick was the first to break the silence.

"So, Sara . . . what's going on?  Is it true that you're leaving?"

Here we go, she sighed silently.  "Uh, yeah, I…I put in for a leave of absence."

"Why?"

"Because I need a change.  I've enjoyed being here and learned a lot, but it's just time to move on." She paused awkwardly.  "You know how it is."

"Actually no, I don't.  Not this kind of 'moving on.'  There has to be a reason, Sara.  You've spent more time in this lab than any of us over the past year and now you're just out of here?  Come on!"

"Yeah, I thought the teacher's pet was always the last to leave," Warrick smiled, but his eyes were unreadable. 

Sara's lips tightened.  She had hardly expected warm fuzzies of concern from Warrick, but she wasn't in the mood for his attitude today.  She thought they'd gotten past her investigation of his gambling, something she had done at Grissom's behest, but he still didn't seem to see her as a friend.  Or at least if he did, it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Look, this is what makes sense for me right now.  I don't know what else you want me to say.  It's just …what it is."  She turned to the coffee machine and busied her hands with pouring out a cup, praying Nick would just let it drop.

"You know what?  I don't know what the problem is, but the least you could do is be honest about your feelings." 

Sara turned sharply.  Where was he going with this? 

"Obviously there's something going on here beyond this moving on crap. I don't know what you're selling, but I'm not buying," he concluded, shaking his head in frustration. 

"Hey Sara!" 

"Hi Alex," Sara mustered up a small smile for the lab's receptionist, who suddenly appeared at the door.  "Hey, what's that?"

"It's for you.  Delivery guy just dropped it off at the desk." Alex smiled, holding out a small plant.   "Somebody sure likes you."

Sara stared at her for moment and then came over to take it.  It was stunning—a Phalaenopsis orchid with deep burgundy colored, almost purple blooms.  She loved orchids; as a child, she had cultivated them in the ramshackle greenhouse behind her parents' inn.  She couldn't reproduce their natural habitats--tree limbs, rock walls or decaying forest floors, of course.  But she discovered that the marvelous thing about orchids is the way they will produce loveliness even under difficult conditions. Given enough light and air, they will thrive virtually anywhere. The thought that something so delicate could be so adaptable and self-sufficient had always fascinated Sara.

The specimen she now held was particularly robust, too.  She could tell by the vivid green of its tapered leaves and the thickness of the roots visible through the bark mixture in which it was planted.   Three of its blooms were fully opened, arrayed in a row along the main stem, which curved gently.  There were also three tightly closed buds on the secondary stems.  They would be coaxed out soon enough, though.  Then, after the flowering season was over she could simply re-pot and wait.  That was another great thing about orchids.  They can live indefinitely if properly cared for.  She smiled at the thought, turning the pretty blue bowl in which the plant was potted this way and that in order to admire her little beauty from every angle.     

"So, Sara, who's your friend?" Warrick asked.  He and Nicky came closer to where Sara was standing.

"Huh? Oh! It's Phalaenopsis.  It's a common species of orchid, but this one's color is so unusual, it must be a hybrid. Brother Oconee, I think."  She smiled proudly.  "Somebody loved this baby from day one…it takes years to cultivate orchids from seedlings."

"No, no, I mean, who's your friend?"  He gave her a sly grin.  "I thought old Hank ran scared after you dropped that finger beside his dinner."

Nick chimed in then, eyes wide in mock disbelief.

"Girl, you've been holding out on us!  Who's the mystery man?  And don't tell us it's from your folks, cause it's not your birthday and parents send FTD, not orchids." 

Sara rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up, you two.  For your information, I'm sure that's exactly who it's from. I used to raise orchids near our house when I was a kid.  The last time we spoke I mentioned that I missed taking care of them like I used to."  As she spoke, she put the plant on the table and plucked the little white envelope from its holder.  She slid the card out, preparing to read it aloud and silence the two men.

From Grissom.