The Rival
By Tres Mechante

Disclaimer: No part of the CSI universe actually belongs to me. No financial profit is being made from this story. In fact, it is costing me money since I have to pay for my Internet connection. But I love these characters, so I don't really mind.

Summary: Competing for the heart of a special woman. GS and SV friendship with potential

A/N: Without meaning to, I seem to have written stories related to each other. This picks up a few days after The Great Escape with references to events in Reborn. As for Spoilers, nothing specific, but a minor character from the episode Turning of the Screw does make a brief appearance. Govern yourself accordingly.

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Chapter 1 of 3

"Geez Gil! You nuts or something?!" Grissom looked up to see Jim Brass standing in his doorway.

"Hello to you, too," he said.

Shaking his head, Brass entered Grissom's office and sat down. "I can't believe you just upped and disappeared from the fundraiser like that. The way I heard it, the sheriff damn near had a fit when he couldn't find his pet forensic entomologist."

Grissom grimaced slightly. He had been called in to work early and raked over the coals for his disappearing act. He'd had a tough time trying to explain his actions, choosing to be vague without resorting to outright untruths. Ultimately, the sheriff opted to employ the 'ignorance is bliss' philosophy – once he was assured nothing had been done that would impact the reputation of the department, of course.

Removing his glasses, Grissom sat back and looked at his friend. "It was unavoidable," he said. "There was an...incident. And, before you ask, it's none of your business."

Brass got to his feet with a chuckle. "Then I guess it was just a coincidence that Sara went AWOL at the same time, huh?" And with that parting shot, he left the office.

--- --- ---

"Warrick and Catherine, DB found in the ice machine at a gas station," said Grissom, handing the assignment slip over.

"Guess that rules out suicide," quipped Catherine.

"Never assume, Cath," he chided. "Nick, since you seem to be our resident expert..."

"Oh man, don't say it!" Nick begged.

"...trick roll just off the Strip." Handing the assignment slip to Nick, he added "And take Greg with you."

Warrick laughed, "Since when does Nicky need help with a trick roll?"

Nick glared at him. Glancing down at his assignment slip Nick suddenly sat up straight. "Whoa!" He looked again more carefully to make sure he hadn't misread the name. "I've seen this guy in action. He was named MVP in..."

"Sports commentary another time, please Nicky. This is a case, just like any other. Speaking of cases, Sara, how is your case coming along?"

"The car was located and it's in the garage now. So, I'll be able to go over it as soon as we're done here," she replied.

"Good. Stay on it, but we'll call if you're needed elsewhere, so just be aware of that. And I have the less than glamorous task of completing paperwork. That's it people. See you later." And with that everyone went their separate ways.

An hour later, Grissom wandered into the garage. "Sara?"

"Back here," came a muffled voice.

Walking toward the back of the car, he found Sara just crawling out from beneath it. "Hey. What's up?" she smiled up at him.

Crouching down beside her, he lowered his voice. "Did you catch any flack about the other night?"

"Not a word. But I heard you had a...uh, meeting with the sheriff. A loud one." Concern in her eyes, she asked "Everything okay?"

"We came to an understanding of sorts. There will be no repercussions," he smiled. "And even if there were, it would be worth it. It was a wonderful evening."

Sara looked at him in disbelief. "A boring reception and falling in mud constitute a wonderful evening? You really do need to get out more," she laughed.

"Well, the reception I could have done without and I'll admit sitting in mud was only a slight improvement, but I was referring to what happened after we left," he said, smiling ever so slightly.

Sara blushed, but returned his smile. "Yeah, it was a pretty good night at that."

Finding themselves covered in mud, they quietly slipped away from the reception, knowing there would be even more trouble if they returned to the party in their condition. Slipping through the dark they took the long way back to the car park to avoid being seen. After locating some blankets to cover the seats, Grissom and Sara headed off, intent on finding clean clothes. But it didn't go quite according to plan. Somewhere along the way, laughing at their adventure, they found themselves reluctant to part company.

At a stoplight, Sara suddenly proclaimed a craving for ice cream. Grissom obliged and headed to a little shop that was popular with locals, but usually overlooked by visitors.

"Coming?" he asked.

"We can't go in looking like this," she replied. "Don't you think it looks a little...odd?"

"You mean by Las Vegas standards?" he queried. Having no reply to this, Sara hopped out of the passenger seat. They ordered ice cream cones and went to sit in the little park across the street. They sat side by side in companionable silence at first, then sharing stories of childhood mischief, laughing at their antics.

Ice cream finished, they continued to sit in the park, talking and laughing and lapsing into occasional silences, just happy to be together. Finally, they got up and Grissom took Sara home.

At her door, he reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. Seeing her startled look, he just smiled and said "A smudge, from the mud" but didn't take his hand away. Sara reached up and covered his hand, holding it to her cheek, then slowly turned her head and kissed his palm. Grissom turned his hand slightly, and brought her hand to his lips. His eyes never left hers as he tenderly kissed her hand. "Good night, Sara," he said softly, and slowly turned and disappeared into the night.

"Yes, a very good night indeed," replied Grissom, returning her smile. "Want me to drop that sample off in trace?"

"Uh, sure," she said, still a little shaken by the intensity of his gaze.

Near the end of shift, Grissom found Sara in the break room, reading a forensics magazine. "All done?" he asked, sitting in the chair across from her.

"Pretty much. I couldn't handle looking at a computer screen another minute so I thought I'd take a break."

"Could I interest you in breakfast after shift?" he asked casually.

"Oh. Well, actually I already have plans," she said.

"Is this your day to work at the center," he asked, with a grin.

"Um...Gris," she began, leaning forward to touch his arm. "I'd already made plans last week to have breakfast with a friend. Tomorrow I'm at the center, but we could do breakfast day after...?" Her voice trailed off.

Grissom tensed at the mention of a previous engagement. His heart squeezed painfully and his stomach did a horrible slow roll. Looking away, he tried to control his emotions. Staring off into the hallway, the words came out in rush. "It's Detective Vartan, isn't it? I didn't realize you were still seeing him. I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make things awkward."

Sara could only stare as Grissom got up and walked quickly out the door toward his office, flinching slightly at the sound of his door closing.

TBC