What Should I Do?
Pairing: S/G
Summary: Sara's thoughts after receiving the Plant. Set after Burden of Proof
There was a knock at my door, and immediately the thought that it was Grissom raced through my head. As I opened it, I tried not to look too happy, but then I realized that it wasn't Grissom. Instead, it was some pimple-faced florist delivery boy. I took the plant, then shut the door. Who would be sending me a plant? I found the card (after checking to make sure that none of the leafy vegetation was poisonous), which read 'From Grissom.' Great, so now he thinks that I can be brought back with a simple card and a plant?
Slowly going back to my previous position on the floor where I had been sorting through photographs, I sat down to think. For Grissom, sending someone a plant was like someone else giving you flowers or candy. Still, it was probably just his way of saying that "the lab needed me." Much as I hate to admit, those words really hurt. That's why I can't stay.
If I stayed, things might get better between us for a little while, but then we would be right back where we started- barely friends, certainly nothing more than that. If I left, we would still have the memories of Harvard, and maybe some of the good times here. The phone ringing shattered my thoughts.
"Hello?"
"Um, Sara?" the voice on the other end of the line spoke hesitantly, as if not sure that they had reached the right number.
"Yes? Grissom?" My heart sped up, even though I was almost leaving by that point. "Thanks for the plant. Is there anything else I can help you with?" I deliberately tried to make my voice cold, so that leaving wouldn't hurt so much.
"Sara, please," he said softly. "Give me a chance. I know I didn't do the right thing, but I want to help."
"Griss, I've got a plane ticket out of here and I'm leaving in an hour. If there's anything else that needs to be said, then e-mail it to me." If he could have seen the tears sliding down my face, he would never have believed my words. It was the only thing left to do, though. Carefully replacing the phone, I continued packing my stuff. Almost everything was already in boxes, ready to be shipped tomorrow morning. It would be in Atlanta two days after I arrived.
As I waited at the airport, sitting on one of those hideously uncomfortable chairs, I thought I heard my name over the speaker.
"Sara Sidle, you have a phone call at the customer service desk." I thought it was probably Grissom, but I decided to talk to him anyway. When I got there and picked up the phone, I was startled to hear a dial tone. Just then, I heard a voice behind me, one that I thought I would probably never hear in person again.
"Sara?" his voice said gently. "I'm sorry."
At those words, every thought went out of my head. His arms went around me, and we just stood there, like two old friends who were never going to leave each other again.