Disclaimer: I do NOT own CSI...duh.
Stay/Come
Taking a deep breath, she zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing her jacket and duffle. With a last tour around the room to make sure nothing was left, she made her way through the house to the front door. Her phone rang just as she was about to turn the handle.
"Hello?"
"This is yellow cab. Your taxi has arrived," said the automated message. Hanging up the phone, she slipped it into her pocket and took one last look at the living room, shuffling to the curb where the yellow car was waiting for her.
"Good afternoon," the cabbie greeted her, opening the back door.
"Thank you." She slunk into the taxi and shut the door and as the driver started too pull away, she fought the urge to look back.
--
Stepping out the taxi, she grabbed her bags and made her way into the airport. Throngs of people were moving all around her as she walked numbly through the front entrance. She didn't want to leave it this way, not this time; she wanted him with her. She could see a breakdown start to form within him and wanted to take him away before it killed him as it nearly did her, but he was having none of it. The lab would always be there, people can always he hired, but his life; once lost-- it could never be re-found. Stepping up to the ticket counter, she held out her drivers license.
"Hello," the young woman greeted her with enthusiasm. "Going to San Francisco? I love it there!" She just nodded, not wanting to interact with anyone, let alone an overly-hyper 20-something who had too much caffeine this morning. "Here's your boarding pass, you're at gate 21B. Are you checking anything today?"
"No," she managed to squeeze out.
"Have a great trip."
"Thank you." Glancing at her watch, which read: 4:45 p.m. she wondered what he was doing right now. Usually he'd be at home sleeping, but since-- since the death, he hadn't slept much, even with her there. With more than three hours before her plane was to take off, she wondered into the coffee shop.
"Can I get a grande tea, please."
"That'll be a dollar, eighty."Digging through her bag, she retrieved a dollar bill, a quarter, and a penny.
"Sorry that's all--"
"I can cover that." She froze. He wasn't there. It was her imagination. Turning slowly, she saw him standing there, holding out two dollar bills.
"Gil."
"Sara. We need to talk."
"Yes, we do." Grissom slid the money on the counter. "Keep the change."
"Thank you," the young barrista said as the couple walked to one of the tables.
