Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: First of all, I just want to express my appreciation for everyone who's worked so hard on Dollars For Sense. It's a tough time for us as a fandom right now, and I know morale is low. I hope that this story will help you smile, even if just for a moment. I wish I could contribute more. Keep your chins up, everyone. We'll always have San Francisco.
I have to give a very big thanks to Cabooklover who approached me about writing this story, and Mingsmommy who sparked my imagination and stayed up way past her bedtime to help me.
Stay Tuned
by Kristen Elizabeth
Love is something eternal. The aspect may change, but not the essence. – Vincent Van Gogh
The house was dark when Grissom entered, save for the blue flickering glare of the TV in the den that played across the tiles at the end of the hallway floor. After shedding his briefcase, jacket and shoes, he moved towards the source of the light, just like a mosquito to a bug zapper.
Halfway there, he heard vaguely familiar voices.
"Sometimes I feel like you're all I need to survive. And that scares me. Because if you're not here…what happens to me?"
"I don't know. I really don't know."
He entered the den on the tail end of a very loud sniff from the woman curled up on the couch. In the space of a single heartbeat, he panicked. How long had she been crying, possibly in pain, while he was at work, completely oblivious?
"Sara?!"
She turned her head as he came around to her side of the sofa. Tear tracks glistened on her cheeks. "Honey, what is it?" he rushed on, kneeling down in front of her. "What's wrong? Is it your arm?"
Her chin wobbled. "They're going to break them up."
Prepared for aching bones and desert nightmares, Grissom was caught completely off guard. "Um…"
Sara pushed away her tears with her knuckles. "You can just tell. Look." With the remote, she paused the show on an image of a man and a woman sitting side by side, staring at the sky above.
"Um…" he repeated.
"He's not holding her hand." Her eyes were misty and wistful. "He always holds her hand."
He frowned at the screen. "Okay." Getting her ibuprofen or Marsha Marsha Marshmallow ice cream would have been a hell of a lot simpler. "And this upsets you?"
"It doesn't make any damn sense! I mean…do you even know everything they've gone through in order to be together?"
"No," was his careful answer. "But you do?"
Sara lifted her good shoulder. "You're gone at night. It's the Bruno, the TV and me." At hearing his name, the dog stretched out on the floor lifted his head, snorted briefly, and flopped back down again. "Stop the presses," she muttered. "Sara Sidle watches the tube instead of reading this month's Journal while she recuperates."
"I'm not judging you," Grissom placated. "I just…" He tilted his head, studying the frozen screen. "Aren't they awfully good-looking for park rangers?"
She replied matter-of-factly, "Well, she used to be a fashion model, but she's hiding out from a crazy stalker."
"Of course."
Sara glared at him. "You are judging me!"
He held up his hands. "I just never thought you'd care about what happens to two fictional characters."
"This from the man who always gets a lump in his throat when Rick tells Ilsa to get on the plane?"
"You've got me there." He sat next to her on the couch. "It's hard for me to see you so sad over something that's supposed to entertain you."
Fiddling with the strap of her blue sling, Sara sighed. "I just don't get why they can't let them be happy."
"Who's 'they,' honey?"
"There's nothing wrong with a happy couple on TV," she went on. "There's happy couples in real life who get married and have babies and grow old together. They don't have to break up, or go back to New York to confront their crazy stalkers, or hook up with the next park ranger who comes along!"
"All that's happened on your show?"
"It will." She sniffed. "Stupid spoiler boards."
"Okay, honey." Grissom took her hand. "I think you need some dinner and maybe a bubble bath before bed."
He tried to stand up, but she stayed seated, tethering him in place with their entwined fingers. "If I can't get a happy ending from Hollywood, will you promise me one?"
Grissom cupped her face in his free hand. After staring into her eyes for several intense seconds, he finally spoke. "You're alive. You're right here with me and I can hold you and tell you how much I love you. As far as I'm concerned, there is no happier ending."
"What if things change?" she whispered. "It's all so unpredictable, you know?"
"Worst case scenario...I swear I will never look at another park ranger the same way I look at you." He kissed her salty-sweet lips. Drawing back, he smiled at her. "You want to finish your show before dinner, don't you?" Sara nodded sheepishly and he laughed. "Okay." Sitting back into the couch, he opened his arms to her. She shifted positions in order to lie against his chest. "Go ahead."
Nestling her cheek into his collar, Sara hit the pause button again.
"What I do know is this. Whatever happens next…I'll always be a part of your life. Nothing and no one can change that."
"Couldn't get rid of me if you tried?"
"I would never try."
Grissom nuzzled her temple. "What we have is better than a TV show, Sara. It's real."
"I know." She played with the top button on his shirt. "Do you think Ilsa and Rick ever met again after the end of the movie?"
"I'm almost positive." He tightened his arms around her, careful not to squeeze her arm too hard. "When you love someone enough to let them go…you have faith that they'll find their way back some day."
Sara's reply was sleepy. "I'd always find my way back to you."
She was asleep long before he whispered, "I'd wait for you forever."
Fin
