Her kiss tasted of peppermint and bacon. That should have been my first clue, but I was so caught up in everything else that it didn't register right away.
The case had been one of those that triggered her past. I didn't know how bad the scene was when the call came in; I assigned her to it with me because she was free. When we arrived, I could see her entire body position change, stiffen.
The scene was processed quickly; the damage was contained to a single room in the small, one-bedroom apartment. We had to drop the evidence bags at the lab before Sara would continue to the hospital to process the girlfriend.
She was shaking. I stopped her in the parking lot, asked her if she was okay, if she could handle it. The pain in her eyes just cut to my core…before I could think about it, I'd pulled her into a hug, right there in the parking lot, between security lights. I held her, stroked her hair…I might have called her "honey" again, I don't know. Her shaking slowed as she calmed down…and that's when I kissed her.
She tasted sweet and smoky, smelled so good, so Sara…kissing her felt so right, I couldn't believe I'd waited so long to do it. I tried to deepen the kiss, and that's when she backed away.
People have accused me of being emotionally void, of not being able to read other people's feelings, but I could read Sara's. Her face was an open book to me that night: pain, sadness, betrayal, hurt, confusion…and pity.
"Grissom…no. I can't." She shook her head sadly. "Remember what I said after the explosion?"
I did. I thought about it every night. And just like that, I knew what she was going to say next.
"It's too late." She turned and fled into the brightly-lit building, clutching the evidence bags to her chest. I just stood there, in the shadows of the parking lot, watching her disappear.
I tried to avoid her the rest of the shift. I sat in my office, waiting for results from the labs, worked on paperwork that was long overdue. Hunger drove me out a few hours after I holed up, though.
I'd left something in the break room fridge a few days before; I was hoping it was still good. As I rounded the corner, laughter spilled out into the hallway. Sara's laughter. I hung back, not wanting to encounter her after what happened in the parking lot. A second voice joined hers, deeper…. The laughter seemed intimate, a joke between the two of them.
"Just a bite, please!" I heard her beg.
"No way, Sar. Just because you forgot to pack a lunch today does not mean I have to give up mine!" Nick's voice was distinctive. Was it his laughter I'd heard?
"It's not my fault someone decided to distract me so I was late getting home." There was a distinct pout in her tone.
I couldn't tell anything from their voices, and despite instinct telling me I didn't want to see their body language, I peered around the corner.
Sara was straddling Nick, trying to reach half a sandwich he was keeping just out of her reach. His free arm was around her waist, both holding her close to his body, and keeping her just far away enough from his sandwich.
The last bit of hope I'd held that it wasn't too late shattered. She'd moved on. With Nick. I watched as he relented, holding the sandwich so she could take a large bite. It looked like a BLT…which Sara wouldn't normally touch.
"I still can't believe you snuck soy bacon into my fridge," Nick groused as Sara chewed. She swallowed and ruffled his hair.
"Didn't hear you complaining this morning. You didn't even notice until you looked at the package."
She was so relaxed around him, so natural. Nick's casual shows of affection were accepted just as casually, no tension. I briefly wondered how long it had been "too late," then realized it didn't matter.
This was where she was meant to be. She was happy. And that was what truly mattered.
I was too late. And though a part of me mourned the fact, another part, a larger part, could look at her with Nick and be happy for her.