A/N: Alright so here we go, first new fic of the New Year! This is the result of watching season one from the beginning and thinking 'Hey, I wonder what happened before/after that GSR scene.' So, this is the resulting fic!

This is like a pre/post ep, probably from each episode, with some exploration of the GSR relationship. I do hope to keep it going, all the way at least until they get together as a couple, then we will see where it goes from there!

A big thanks to two amazing GSR lovers on tumblr, maybeweshouldgetmerried and bittersweethalycon who read this idea for me before I started and encouraged me to continue with it!

And a massive thanks to notreadytosaygoodbye who read this whole chapter for me when I was feeling doubtful about my writing, and made me post this.

So, this is dedicated to you guys, thank you so much for the help!

Hope you all enjoy, and stick with this story!

Disclaimer: Nothign here is mine, unfortunately. All owned by CBS and all other people involved with CSI.

xxx

He seemed to be the only person left in the lab at this stage. He just needed some time to think to himself about the events of the day.

It had been a long, stressful one, to say the least. Holly Gribbs, day one on the job, and she gets shot. Where was Warrick? Was Holly going to live? What about Warrick, how would he handle that?

He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, trying to relieve some stress. He still had some things to do, but he just needed a few minutes to himself so he could think thing through.

He slipped his cellphone from his pocket, and flipped it open, looking at the screen blankly for a moment, before he selected the keypad.

He knew her number off by heart, which surprised him a little. It had been a few months since he had last spoken to her, and it was not because of lack of effort on her behalf.

Work was a perfect excuse for him, and the best thing was that she was in the same line of work, so she understood the long, unsociable hours, and what might delay him in replying to her emails or phone calls. It wasn't an excuse for months of no contact, but it was something.

Work was the reason he was phoning her right now. At least, that was what he told himself.

There was a lot he didn't allow himself to think of when it came to her. It was best to try and forget about her, but that was near impossible. He would succeed for a limited amount of time, and then he would think back to the many long evenings they had spent just talking, about anything and everything.

There were many occasions when he would pull his phone out, but he couldn't think of what to say to her, so he usually ended up putting it back in his pocket and taking out some work instead.

For a long time after returning from the seminar he thought for eight weeks, he found it incredibly difficult to forget about her, when he knew he had to. He knew it would be best for him. Especially in the first few weeks after he returned, there had been no communication. He fully believed that he had destroyed everything, he couldn't blame her for not using the contact information that he had left for her.

Everywhere he went, the lab, a crime scene, the store, the chemist, even when he went to ride a roller coaster to try and forget about her existence, it was impossible. Every brunette he saw, whether her hair was too dark, too light, too long, too short, too curly or not curly enough, he automatically thought of her. His heart pounded and his palms became sweaty, in the moment it took for his brain to catch up with his heart, and realise logically that it was not the person he wanted it to be.

He wasn't entirely sure he even wanted to forget about her. The time he had spent with her was, dare he admit it, possibly the best time he had in his life. He felt like a new person, re-energized, vitalized and content. He had a taste of happiness that was not brought to him by work. This young, talented, beautiful, intelligent, witty, caring, sensitive, yet extremely stubborn and strong woman made him feel like a brand new man. One that was ten years younger.

Yet, it also brought insecurities. He was getting older. Yes, that was life, but it had only become obvious to him now. Painfully obvious. He didn't have much going in the line of relationships. Not after the last one, anyway, but that was something for another day.

Without much attempt to forget about her, they had begun emailing, something Grissom had gotten to learn to use specifically for that reason. Then it progressed to phone calls. Every night. They talked about everything and nothing. Interesting cases, other developments in the world of forensics, reading, some television and even music. It was easy, and comfortable, not awkward as Grissom had found so many previous relationship.

Not that he classed this as a relationship. It was just two friends discussing things they had in common. That was all.

Until he started to think too hard on it. She was getting attached, and so was he. It wasn't fair to either of them, but his concern was mostly for her. What could he offer to her, when she was in San Francisco and he was in Vegas? He was significantly older, he was pretty uneducated when it came to relationships, and after so many solitary years, he had become quite the introvert, and his work just meant too much to him,and took up too much of his time. He didn't like talking about much, unless it was work related. It was a struggle for most other things on a personal level.

So he started to avoid her. It hurt. He would admit that. He threw himself into his work in the lab more than ever, working double after double. When he went home, he was working on experiments. It used to be for fun. Now it was the only thing he could use to distract himself with.

She had reverted to emailing him after a few days of him not returning her calls, only allowing them to roll over to voice mail. He ignored those also. He didn't even allow himself to read them, for fear of wanting to reply straight away, and guilt was also a factor. He felt he was hurting her all over again.

So this time, as he pulled out his cell phone to call her, he told himself it was only work related. He needed someone to do a job, and she was the best person for it, the only one he trusted to do it, and do it well.

As he dialed her number, he half expected her to not answer, heck, he deserved it, he knew that.

On the fourth ring, he got his answer.

"Sidle." She said smoothly.

He felt that half smile ease onto his lips when he heard her voice, and of its own accord, he felt his pulse quicken. He really did like her voice.

It had taken a lot for her to answer. She had looked at the caller I.D for a moment, trying to decide what she should do. It had been weeks since she last spoke to him, and she knew he was avoiding her, so she had given up and tried to move on.

When she answered the phone, she realised it had been a wasted effort thinking she could accomplish such a task. You could not forget Gil Grissom, no matter how you tried. He certainly had a way of making an impression.

"Hey, Sara. It's Grissom." Duh, he though. She has caller I.D. of course she knows who this is. "Uh, how are you?" He asked quickly.

"I'm good. How are you?" She could almost feel his nerves through the phone. This wasn't a social call, she had gathered that much.

"That's good. I'm good. I'm sorry for having been out of touch... Work has been busy. You know what it's like."

Even though he couldn't see her, she nodded. "Yeah, I do. And that's fine. I understand." What a lie. She didn't understand, and she most certainly did not believe it to be fine. She was just relieved he was talking to her, to be able to hear his soothing voice.

"Listen, I have a favor to ask of you." He thought it was best to just dive right in, maybe forget the awkwardness so far.

"Shoot."

He cringed slightly at her wording, but he knew that it wasn't intentional. "Um, we hired a new CSI, Holly Gribbs, and she was shot on the scene, but I need someone to conduct the internal investigation for me. And, you're the only one with the uh, qualifications that I trust, to do this."

"I heard about that, on the news. How is she?"

"Critical at the moment." He said with a small sigh. it really didn't look good for her. Or for Warrick, he thought sullenly.

"I'm sorry." And really, she didn't know what she was sorry for. It just felt appropriate to say right now. "I'll um, clear it with my supervisor and get the first flight I can." What? That was not what she had planned to say. But, he said he trusted her. He needed her right now.

Like the ever faithful student, eager to please her teacher, she had agreed, despite how her heart protested. Maybe it would be okay. She would go, help with his investigation, come home, and continue with the seemingly impossible task of forgetting Gil Grissom. She could manage that much, surely.

A sigh of relief, maybe excitement, left his lips. "Thank you, Sara. I really appreciate your help. Let me know what time your flight is at, and I'll organise someone to collect you from the airport."

"You don't have to worry about that, I'll get a taxi. I'll sort out a hotel when I get there too."

"It's the least I can do, organise a lift for you." He wanted to say accommodation too. He wanted more than anything to invite her to stay at his townhouse, to just have one more day together like they had in San Francisco, but he knew he couldn't. They would have to be professional, and he knew she was capable of that.

Sara bit her lip slightly, sensing his hesitation. She seemed to have a knack for guessing what he was thinking, and it made her sigh slightly.

She felt the same. "Well, I'm going to go get clearance, pack and get catch a plane to Vegas. If you get a chance, will you email me the file, so I can look over it before I land. You do remember what email is, right?"

He winced slightly at the jab, but he felt himself smiling then. That was the Sara he knew alright. "Yes, I do. I'll send it to you soon."

"Perfect." She said gently. "I'll see you soon." Very soon. In hours. Wow. What was she going to do.

"Yeah, you will." He paused for a moment, and they just remained in a comfortable silence, neither quite ready to let the other go.

"Bye Griss."

"Bye Sara."

They both clicked their cells shut, and tossed them aside.

Almost simultaneously, they closed their eyes, tilted their head back slightly and took a deep breath. After about a moment, they both stood, grabbed their cells, and went to tackle the new tasks they had.

Neither of them thought that they would see each other again, once he left San Francisco, but they were both proved wrong. What else would they be wrong about?

xxx

A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think, if you want some more.