TITLE: One Thing

AUTHOR: coolbyrne

RATING: G

SPOILERS: Follow up fic to the episode "Unbearable".

DISCLAIMER: Not mine and these days, I'm almost glad.

SUMMARY: What if you could change one thing? Sara POV.

FEEDBACK: Compliments/constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated. Flames will be mocked in other forums. Send any combination of the above to the contact addy.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Where to begin? This is definitely the winter AND spring of my discontent with this show. Yet I keep coming back. Must be Jorja Fox, because I can't imagine what else there could be. Thanks, Ms. Fox. I think! Thanks also to my beta reader and like-minded suffering CSI fan, papiliondae.

-

The planets align
And I can sense a change

The fates are against this
Against you and me
The stars spell out a tragic fate
For a love affair
Doomed from conception

-"Universe" by LJ user cleokinz

-

I wonder if you ever play that game in your head where you think back on your life and pick out all the things you might change if you had the chance. No, you probably don't. You're a scientist through and through. A man of absolutes and controlled variables; always moving forward and looking for answers. I, on the other hand, seem to always be slipping backwards and finding questions. For you, if A plus B equals C today, then it damn well better be the same tomorrow. Me? I'm still stuck dissecting A to death.

So yeah, I play the "what would I change" game a lot.

I play it on a wholesale level and then whittle it down to the most miniscule detail.

Change a life.

Change a day.

Change an event.

Change a moment.

Change a look.

Change a line.

Change a word.

Example #1 –how different would life be if it had been, "I need you" instead of "The lab needs you"?

Yeah, I know. After everything I told you last week, after I showed you all the scars on my battered heart, you'd think the first think I'd change would be my childhood. But my life has been divided into BG and AG –Before Grissom and After Grissom –and everything BG is… well, not exactly compartmentalized, but at least somewhat set aside. I'm not reminded of it every time I set foot in the lab. It's not fresh, it's not immediate, it doesn't tear my heart open every damn day.

Besides, to change my entire life on such a huge level is an easy fantasy. Just as dreaming of what my life would have been like had I not come to Vegas is a cop-out for my imagination. It lacks creativity, although you might prefer that approach –cold clear logic wins the day, doesn't it? But no, for me I don't take that route. God only knows I've never been one to take the easy way out, huh? So let's ignore the "how would life change if I hadn't come to Vegas?" and try for something more concentrated.

Would I change the fact that I came back after you sent me that goddamn plant? No, because there was something about the gesture that made me believe –made me believe that you meant to say "I need you" instead of "the lab needs you", made me believe that we'd somehow move forward in this dance that we do. It restored my faith in you, and had I left Vegas before that moment I never would have felt the same about you ever again. So I'm grateful for that experience.

Would I change the fact that I invited you for dinner after the lab explosion? No, because I'm not sure you understand how much that explosion scared me. My life really did flash before my eyes and all I could see at the end was you. Over and over again. You. I couldn't walk away and not know. Do you understand? And even though you didn't give me the answer I had hoped for, at least I knew. At least it would be one less regret.

Would I change the fact that I heard your confession to Dr. Lurie? Well, that might be something you'd like to change when the day comes that I finally confront you about it, but no, I wouldn't change it. My heart stopped when you turned down my dinner invitation, but in a weird way it started again when I stood behind that one-way mirror and saw your eyes. Unguarded, lonely, afraid. And at long last, I understood.

Yet something has happened between then and now and I can't pin it down. And it's bothering me. Dissecting things to death is what I do and yet somehow this is eluding me. Last week, as I poured my heart out to you, the only living soul who now knows my pain, there was a piece of joy in all that sadness, because for the first time in a long time I felt we had re-connected. And it felt so damn good. But now, as I stand in the hallway just outside your office, I feel like we're a thousand miles apart again. I see your lips forming words I've sat at your feet for five years waiting to hear, but they're not directed at me. Another moment to add to the list.

"Let's have dinner, shall we?"

What would I possibly change? Yeah. Yeah, I'd definitely change that.

-end.