Long Shot
Summary: Angst from Sara's POV about her non-relationship with Grissom. Just my musings after hearing this song. It was going to be continued, but my muse has gone AWOL. So this is it. I nearly deleted it, but something told me to post it. So, here goes.
Disclaimer: 'Long Shot' remains property of Kelly Clarkson. CSI and the characters from CSI remain property of CBS Paramount, Alliance Atlantis, Jerry Bruckheimer and Anthony Zuiker. I merely borrowed them. Please don't shoot me :)
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I felt it
The wire touched my neck and
Then someone pulled it tighter
I never saw it coming
I started to black out and
Then someone said good morning
- Long Shot by Kelly Clarkson
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Mmm the whisky feels good as I down my second or is that my third glass? Hmm. Lost count. Oh well. It's all his fault. I don't understand it. Well, I guess I do. It's complicated. We're complicated. For months now things haven't been right between us. And there's always been an 'us'. No matter what he'd say if you asked him. Although maybe he would. Who knows? Who knows Grissom? Who knows what's going on that complicated, intense and beautiful mind of his? God there I go again. He treats me like I'm nothing to him, yet I know I'm not. It's all an act. We both know what we want but he won't admit it. To me. Or to himself. He's infuriating. For months he's pushed me away, distanced himself from me. Refused to work with me. Not outright, but he no longer pairs us together on cases. And he's the supervisor he can do what he wants. He has the choice. But he chooses not to exercise it. We haven't spoken in… well, too long. Which is stupid you know because we work the same shift in the same building. We see each other every night. I'm tired of it all. I tried getting a diversion but… well we all know that didn't work out. No matter how hard he tries or I try, I can't stop thinking about him. It's crazy really. Who else would let a man treat them like this and still want to give them a chance? I… I can't let go. I've tried. I've really tried. But I just can't. We're inextricably and unexplainably linked together. It's why I'm still here. I know I threatened to leave. But when push came to shove, I just couldn't go through with it. I couldn't leave him. How pathetic am I? Just one more glass. Then maybe I'll be able to sleep.
How many mistakes can someone make in a day? I know I shouldn't have drunk so much before shift. I shouldn't have drunk at all. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about him. So I kept on drinking. I certainly shouldn't have attempted driving. I don't even know where I was going. Maybe I do. I was a few blocks over from Grissom's townhouse. I guess it was lucky I got stopped. Or I could have ended up making a fool of myself. Make that even more of a fool than I felt when he walked into the police department to take me home. Either way I still ended up seeing him. I didn't say a word to him. Truth is, I didn't trust myself to say anything. He tried asking me what was wrong. Why had I been drinking yada yada yada. Even though I didn't say anything I still think he knew, you know? Our minds are tuned into the same frequency. We always used to know what the other was thinking. Guess that hasn't changed. He brought me back to my apartment. He made us both coffee. It was strange. The first time he'd ever seen my apartment and yet he moved around it effortlessly like he lived here. Ha I only wish. I think he thought the coffee would buy him time. To get me to talk. I remained mute. He told me to take some time out. I tried to stifle a yawn. He said he should go. I stood and opened the door. He passed through it. I closed it and sunk down to the floor. "It's all your fault" I cried.
The next morning I woke to the sound of the phone. It sounded abnormally loud. Until I opened my eyes and realized I'd passed out on the sofa. Where he'd sat. Inhaling his lingering scent from the cushions. How truly pathetic. I didn't want to answer so I let it roll over to the answering machine. Surprise surprise it was Grissom. He authorized me a couple of weeks of leave. And scheduled some compulsory PEAP sessions. Great. Just what I needed. Someone else to tell me how messed up I am. Like I don't already know.
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Two weeks later and I'm back at work. I've done my PEAP sessions. I don't think anyone knows about the almost DUI except Grissom. If anyone else knew, I think I'd have had the team banging down my door. I clock in and head to the break room. Everyone's there except Grissom. That's no different from usual. I get the round of "How was your vacation?" type questions. Catherine gives out assignments today. Nobody questions it. I stay quiet although I'm sure the question is on my face. Shift passes. Its early morning when we start to collect our things and sign out. I make my excuses and leave the others. I walk past Grissom's office. On purpose. It's been two weeks since I've seen him and God help me I'm having withdrawal symptoms. He comes out of his office and stops in his tracks when he sees me. A smile breaks out on his face. "Good morning, Sara." And he carries on. I smile to myself. That's certainly a first. There's a spring in my step as I walk towards the parking lot. Maybe it's a long shot. But I'm determined to find out.
THE END.