A/N: Here's the first chapter of the sequel to Equilibria (Apologies for length, but there's a method to the madness ;o). Thank you all for reading, and for your kind comments. As always, you can find updates, etc., regarding this and other works at my website and myspace page.
Take care.
1. The Tin Man
He happened to be in the neighborhood. That's what he told them, anyway, and that was what he kept repeating to himself as he sat in a dark corner, watching them. The music was too loud, he thought, and not his taste; the air was too smoky and pungent, and they seemed none the wiser.
They had started out sitting together. As the table filled up with empty glasses, however, they had gravitated toward the bar, leaving him a quiet observer. Not that he minded much: he was their boss. Supervisor. Mentor. Father figure. He cared for them, but kept himself distant, more often than not. He had helped all of them with personal problems at one time or another, but they (aside from Catherine) knew very little about him. The only person to get relatively close to him personally the entire time his team had known him was a dominatrix he'd met while working a case. The relationship had gone sour due to his own inability to trust, and his doubt about the woman's involvement in the case.
He kept to himself while not on the clock, occupying his time by reading forensics magazines, working advanced crossword puzzles, and going on an occasional roller coaster ride. Despite twenty-two years of working gruesome cases, he remained seemingly unhindered by it all---at least to outsiders looking in, and he preferred it that way.
He watched them drinking and laughing, having a good time, and smiled to himself. It was nice to see them all together, enjoying life outside of the job, not having to deal with death for a few hours. He declined a waitress' offer to bring him a drink, and she looked at him, confusion apparent on her face, before walking away. He'd been sitting in the same spot for over an hour and had had only coffee to drink. Gil Grissom supposed that he was the last person anyone would expect to find sitting in a crowded night club, and at the moment, that suited him just fine.
He thought momentarily about each of them, and, as he was apt to do, thought of Sara the longest. Sara Sidle. She was the one thing he loved above all else. He loved his work, of course, loved different things, but they paled in comparison. After all these years, he was still unable to tell her how he felt, even after almost losing her forever. Then again, she was seeing Nick, and there was no way he could tell her, now. But God, how he wanted to. He saw her there again, laying in the rubble, bloodied and bruised, her body broken, and it took everything that was in him to keep from shoving Nick aside and taking her in his arms and holding her, comforting her, telling her. Loving her. He watched the two of them together, and his heart ached. Finding them holding one another in the interrogation room, seeing their stares, hearing their whispers…Nick kissing her mouth, touching her skin, tasting her, wanting her, having her…it was almost too much to bear.
He cleared his throat as if to interrupt his own thoughts and took another sip of coffee. When a roar of laughter erupted from the group, Grissom watched the scene unfold from afar.
As with most things, it began with a bet.