Title: Drive
Author: meg (magrat_78@yahoo.com.au)
Rating: G
Category: Angst alert!
Archive: I don't have one yet. I will put it on GS and Fanfiction.net when I get around to it. If anyone else wants it, let me know.
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to people who are not me, namely CBS, Bruckheimer, and Alliance Atlantis.
Summary: Post Ep for Crash and Burn.
Author's Notes: The fact that there's a song by the same title that fits the ep is a bit scary. Anyway, thanks to Rhiannon for getting us the ep, and Thespia for the beta! Technically, my second CSI fic, but as the divine one is still editing the (slightly) longer first fic, this one goes out first. Also, more UST than I normally like.
Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone
"You want to get a beer?"
"Drive."
Like most bars, this one seemed to filter out all natural light so that it constantly appeared dark and dank, no matter the time of day. However, the beer was cold, and that was all that mattered to Sara.
By her second drink, she was starting to feel numb, And also like talking, which was what Catherine had been waiting for.
"It's just," Sara started, trying to get her thoughts in order, "It's just that he's a bastard."
"Of course he's a bastard," Catherine sympathised. "He cheated on you."
"He didn't even seem concerned that he'd hurt me, you know. What does that mean? What was I to him exactly? Do you know how long it took him to get me to sleep with him? Months. He invested months and months of time in getting me into his bed, and he's already got a girl? What type of guy is that?"
Catherine sighed. She didn't have an answer. "A bastard," she supplied.
"It just doesn't make any sense. Why do that to her? To me? And you know what the worst part is? I can't hate her. She didn't know. It wasn't her fault. I so want to hate her, but I can't."
"Because you know it's not her. You know it's him. How long had you been sleeping with him?"
"A few months. Not long. I feel like such a fool – I held out for so long."
"You couldn't have known Sara. He offered you something that made you feel special, and lord knows you don't get that at elsewhere."
"True. At least I didn't sleep with him sooner. At least . . ." She was interrupted by Catherine's cell phone ringing.
"Sorry," Catherine mumbled, pulling the phone to her ear. She spoke for a moment, then looked at Sara. "Sorry, that was the babysitter – she's got to go – family emergency or something. You want me to drive you home?"
Sara smiled. "No, I'm gonna drown my sorrows a bit more. Don't worry, I'll get a cab."
"Okay. Look, give me a call if you need to, okay. I know how you feel. I've been there."
"Thanks Cath. I'll be fine."
Catherine looked at Sara again, then nodded, leaving the brunette at the bar. She walked back to her car, a thought suddenly popping into her head. Smiling to herself, she pulled out her phone.
"Hey. It's Catherine. Look, can you do me a favour? It's about Sara."
Sara had been nursing her third beer for some time, lost in her thoughts, when a familiar voice called her name. She looked up, surprised to see Grissom standing next to her.
"Catherine called me. She was worried about you. Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
Sara looked at him, and felt the numbness suddenly wash away, as her eyes filled with unshed tears. Later, she would feel disgusted at showing him her weakness, but right now, she wanted comfort, and she didn't care who that came from. She'd deal with any repercussions later. She shook her head as the tears began to fall.
Grissom didn't think, but just put his arms around her while she cried. For several long moments, her tears soaked his shirt, as her sobs racked her body. Finally the tears subsided, and she pulled back from him.
"Thank you," she said quietly, a small part of her brain wondering how she would face him tomorrow.
"He doesn't deserve you, Sara," he said simply. "Come on, I'll drive you home."
Sara nodded, and picked up her bag. Grissom took her coat, and placed his hand on her back as he guided her out of the gloomy bar.
They drove in silence to her apartment. When he finally stopped the car, he turned to look at her.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked.
She gave a short, bitter laugh. "I just had my heart ripped out Griss. I'll be fine in a day or so."
"Did you," he paused for a moment. 'Did you love him?"
"I was trying. I think I nearly did."
Grissom looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"It's that song. The one that everyone's done a cover of at some point. You know the one – 'if you can't have the one you love, love the one you're with.'"
"Sara," he started.
"No, Griss, don't. Don't give me one of your cute little phrases right now – I couldn't take it. I've already had my heart destroyed for no reason I can fathom other than for some sick, twisted game. I don't need the same from you. I don't want to know about how I'll get over this, or how I'll find someone else. I just want to be alone right now." She opened the car door, and got out. "Thanks for the lift."
"Sara," he said again, trying to think what to say, but failed. "Anytime."
Sara smiled sadly at him, knowing that he meant it, but also knowing that he didn't understand it himself. "Thanks."