Summary: She felt like apologizing. She felt like throwing herself at his feet and begging him to stay. To plead and offer everything she could to keep him there with her. But she knew it wouldn't be enough...he had told her so. GSR angst...Happy New Year everyone!

Timeline: During Leaving Las Vegas

Spoilers: Leaving Las Vegas (7X12), Play With Fire (3X22)

Disclaimer: I don't own, nor do I have any affiliation with the characters in this story, or CSI. It all belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and Anthony Zuiker. No CSIs were emotionally damaged in the making of this fic...(I'm too drunk to think of anything funny to say...YAY ALCOHOL AND 2007!!!)

Title: Don't Ring In The New Year...

By: Futuremisscsi60

A/N: Well, I decided the best way to ring in the new year would be to post a story about GSR...but, as my past books have shown, it'll be angsty...but you can't really blame me...Leaving Las Vegas was Jerry and Anthony's idea. I'm simply messing with it and being mean...tee hee. Happy New Year!!!

Don't Ring In The New Year

She sat on the bed, watching him pack, sipping her wine, cursing him silently. He folded his shirts and set them in the bag. He folded his pants and placed them on top of the shirts. He moved back to the oak dresser to retrieve his socks and underwear, then wordlessly put them in his bag. He stood back and mentally ran through everything he had already packed. After a few moments he went to the closet and retrieved a white leisurely suit. She quirked a brow at his choice attire, and couldn't help but snort.

"Florida's not that great you know..." She pointed out softly, running her hand down the bed as she lowered herself into a laying position, propping herself up on her elbow as she sipped her wine yet again. "Too humid."

He ignored her protests and she sighed and looked at his bag and thought about dumping all the clothes out of it and stopping his bag into the dust, that way he couldn't leave her. He's probably going to Florida for the bugs...damn bugs...

"Sara..." He began, but a firework in the distance cut him off. He was slightly startled, light works shouldn't be going off near his house, and slightly relieved, he wasn't really sure where he was going with that statement. She sighed and rolled onto her back slightly to peek out his curtains.

The soft cheering of the crowd in New York, happily awaiting the ball to drop in Time Square to ring in the new year taunted her from his living room. 2007 meant nothing to her...just a year she would have to spend without him...2008 might be the same way, as well as 2009. I may never see him again... She realized and took another long sip of wine, draining her glass.

"This won't be for forever Sara." He promised as if he read her thoughts. She ignored him and stood up to walk into his kitchen and refill her wine glass. She felt his presence follow her, and watch from a distance.

Yeah, that's right Mr. Grissom, keep watching. Look but don't touch. Ever. Because once you finally get your ass into gear you're going to desert me for some sandy beach, shark infested, crime polluted wasteland known as Florida...

"I will be back."

"When?"

He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. She brought the glass to her lips, pausing as if his answer would dictate her alcohol consumption for the night. "I don't know." She poured the liquid into her throat, bypassing the tasting process and praying it went straight to her liver. She set the glass down a little too hard, making it 'clink' ferociously...but how angry can a 'clink' sound without breaking?

"Why-"

"I told you, Vegas just-"

"No...why did you wait?" He furred his brows. "Why did you wait to tell me? You told me at the same time as everyone else...Damnit Gil I would have thought after all this I would have earned at least the right to know things about your personal life before everyone else..."

Grissom sighed and dragged a hand down his face. She wasn't asking too much from him, but at the same time she was. He couldn't give her that answer. She wouldn't be happy with the answer. But seriously, if he had been thinking completely about her feelings, he would have at least told her before.

She scoffed, the sound muffled by the wine glass, as if she expected him not to answer, which she probably had. It was such a 'Grissom' thing to do. True, he had come out of his shell quite a bit these past months...but he was still the same 'Grissom' he always was...and Vegas was still just as cruel and unforgiving.

"It wasn't like I planned this Sara..."

"It didn't just happen either." She countered and Grissom shifted so that he was half sitting on the back rest of the black leather couch.

He wanted to say he was sorry, that he didn't mean to hurt her by leaving. That he had to do this for himself, and if she loved him, she would understand that. But thinking about it from her point of view, he wouldn't have been too supportive either.

Ryan Seacrest's cheerful face came on the television as he spoke with Christina Aguilera about their excitement for the new year. Figures...they aren't loosing their lover to a sabbatical beach out in the Sunshine State...I'm cursed. No good can come from my presence. Sara dwelled and sipped her wine glass again.

Grissom moved to step closer behind her, letting his arms fall to his sides. She put her hands on the counter on either side of her, letting her shoulders and head fall forward in defeat. Because in the end, that's what this was, defeat. She wasn't enough. That's what he meant. Vegas wasn't enough, his career wasn't enough, she wasn't enough to keep him here.

How could he want to leave...? Vegas has always been corrupted. He's always loved his job. What changed? Was the taste of freedom I gave him enough to get his spirits going again and make him yearn for something more? Did I drive him away? She pondered and took another sip of the wine, cringing as a few tears seeped into the corners of her mouth and the salty taste mixed with the stale wine.

She felt like apologizing. She felt like throwing herself at his feet and begging him to stay. To plead and offer everything she could to keep him there with her. But she knew it wouldn't be enough...he had told her so. It was partially selfish for her to be angry with him, he had things that he needed to straighten out, and he obviously couldn't do that here in Vegas. She loved him, she should be supportive of that.

Screw support. I want him here with me.

Truthfully she wasn't as angry with him as she could have been...she wanted to be a hell of a lot more livid than she was. But she couldn't bear to be frustrated with him on his last night in Vegas...

Boy that's a weird thought. She mused. "Your last night in Vegas..." She whispered and Gil looked up at her sadly.

"Yes."

She opened her eyes suddenly as if she had forgotten he was there. Oh look, I'm adjusting. She shook her head and looked back down at the white marble counter top. How long had she fantasized about him, about having him and pleasing him (some even took place on this very counter). And now here she was...she had him...she had pleased him...and she was left pouring tears into a half empty glass of wine as he stood silently behind her, too detached to say anything. "I should have never gotten into this..." She whispered and Gil winced.

"Don't say that. Please Dear God, Sara don't say that." Grissom pleaded and she sniffled and turned around to face him while wiping the tears from her cheeks. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at her feet, trying to sort everything out in her mind, but she was too tired of analyzing to fathom 'them' anymore. "Please don't have regrets."

"I have lots of regrets." She pointed out, looking at the wide screen television without really watching it.

"Don't let 'us' be one of them..."

You have no right to want 'us'...you're leaving 'us'...without me there wouldn't have even been an 'us'! She thought bitterly and shook her head.

Grissom looked away from her and glanced around his townhouse, the same house he had lived in for more than fifteen years. "Will you stay here?" Grissom asked and she looked at him. "Will you stay here and wait for me?"

She thought about it for a moment and slowly shook her head. "I waited for ten years Grissom...I'm done waiting." Her words from four years ago hit him full force 'By the time you figure it out, it could really be too late...' "I can't bear to be here without you." She added softly and Grissom dragged his gaze up to meet hers. They held each other's eyes for a moment before the cheering from New York grew impressively loud as the ball began it's one minute journey down the pole. "I should go." She whispered and moved off the counter and took a side step to the door.

Grissom looked up flustered that she was actually leaving. He figured she would have stayed the night with him and seen him off tomorrow morning. "You're not staying?"

She shook her head and took another step. "It'd be too hard."

The ball continued to inch and Gil looked around desperately, his gaze landing on the television. "You're not even going to stay to watch the ball drop?"

She smiled in amusement as if he was a little naïve child who had just embarrassed himself in an adorable way. She slowly shook her head. "No."

"But..." He took a step towards her as the ball continued to creep down the pole. He was actually looking forward to ending 2006 in her warm embrace and loving kiss and greeting 2007 the same way. He took a long stride towards her, and her hands found the corner of the counter behind her. He slowly leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away, tears streaming down her pretty porcelain face.

She shook her head, her face twisting in sadness as her voice croaked; "Don't ring in the new year with me if you can't finish it..."

And with that she pulled away from him and stepped out of his apartment to the taxi waiting bellow.

"3...2...1...Happy New Year!!" The television cheered, everyone rejoicing in the chance of new hopes and dreams and good things to come, greeting each other and the new year with kisses and hugs...

And all that stood to comfort Gil Grissom was the sweet and bitter torture of silence...

Fin.