Title: His Eyes, Her Smile

Author: Lifeguard

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Believe me, I do NOT own CSI or any of the characters. But the original ones in this story are all mine!

Summary: A what if story between Sara and Grissom with some romance, and a tragedy.

Read and find out.

Author's Note: This was just a thought I had, again, a what if scenario which sort of stemmed from my Precious Moments story. I guess you could say that this story would have happened if Sara had left Grissom for good, even though its not the same story, just a different direction of the general idea. Still following or do I have you confused? Just read it, and hopefully you'll understand. Thanks! (And don't forget to review!)

The boxes filled with memories surrounded her. Photo albums, clothes, documents, yet nothing could fill the void she felt. She swiped a tear from her cheek as she reached into the back of the closet for the last box. It was sealed shut, and she couldn't recall ever noticing it before. But then again, it was just another generic cardboard cube with no label. Grabbing the scissors, she sliced the tape open and pulled back the flaps. Inside was a file folder of papers. She peeked inside the first folder and found some old pictures. People she had never seen before smiled up at her from a place she had never been. Yet looking closer she did identify one woman, she looked younger then. There were no names on the back, no date. She placed it back in the folder, and found a few more shots of the same group of people and the same younger woman she knew with them. She began to go through the other papers in the files, pulling them out together. It seemed to be a history of employment, from a job held years before. She hadn't known about this. She placed the papers back in the box, intending to set it aside to decide what to do with it later. A large manila folder caught her eye at the bottom of the box. Curious, she retrieved it and opened it. She scanned the contents, a few pages of official looking documents, and her mind reeled. Within the envelope she also found letters, addressed but never sent, and one addressed to her. Her eyes grew wide as she read them.

It was cooler inside the hallway, the air conditioning a relief from the intense heat of Vegas. She counted off door numbers, growing ever closer to her destination. She was a combination of nerves, excitement and curiosity, combined with a hint of anger. She had no idea what to expect. Finally she stopped, pausing at the door. She had no idea what she would say, or how to even greet him. He didn't know she was coming. She held the picture in her hand, with the manila envelope. She glanced at the photo again, the address of where she was written now on the back with a name. Taking a deep breath, she knocked lightly on the door, and waited in anticipation.

He moved slowly towards the door, not to pleased to be woken from his nap. It was times like these where he would feel his age. He was not young any more, he knew that. He was just glad that he was still allowed to work, or he wouldn't know what to do with his life.

He glanced through the peep hole and did a double take. Unlocking the door, he opened it slowly and his mouth hung open. Two pairs of the same blue eyes looked at each other for the first time.

She moved slowly towards the door, wondering who would be bothering her now. All she wanted to do was sleep, to forget the events of the day. She glanced through the peep hole and did a double take. Unlocking the door, she opened it only to the extent of the chain lock, which she kept in place. His blues eyes met her brown ones.

"What do you want?" she asked curtly.

He seemed to falter under her glare, and began to stumble on his words, "Sara, I um, I…"

"You what? Wanted to continue to berate me for today? Wanted to tell me that I was wrong again? Cause I know what happened, and you know what? I already apologized for it. So unless you're here to apologize, then you should probably leave now."

"I am here to apologize."

"P-pardon?" it was her turn to stutter, her jaw dropping.

"I came here to tell you that I was wrong, that it what I did wasn't right. I shouldn't have said those things Sara, and I'm truly sorry," his eyes dropped to the ground, and he made to leave, "I guess…I guess I'll see you tomorrow night," he began to walk away, leaving her in shock.

"Grissom…wait."

He turned around to face her, raising an eyebrow in question. She pulled back the chain, and opened the door fully, gesturing for him to follow her. Hesitantly, he stepped into her apartment, and she shut the door behind him. Running a hand through her hair, she walked into the living room, then stopped abruptly, looking at him.

"You…you came all the way here to apologize to me?"

He nodded, taking in her confused expression, "Yes, because I felt it would be better to do it in person," he paused, "Will you forgive me?"

She shook her head, "Why do you do this Grissom?"

It was his turn to look confused, "Do what?"

"Make me so angry, make me hate you, and then do this?"

"Sara…"

"I can't take this Grissom! This flip flopping of emotions, this struggle with you-"

"Sara, I should go…" He backed up towards the door.

"Then go, but once you leave…once you leave, you can't expect me to let you back in again. This is it Grissom," her brown eyes starred him down.

He had his hand on the doorknob, and he stood there for a few moments, watching her. Finally he turned the knob and walked out. As the door closed behind him, a tear slipped down her cheek. She slowly began to move towards the entrance to lock it, but it was then she realized it wasn't closed all the way. When she placed her hand on the handle, it opened, and he was standing in the doorway.

"I couldn't do it…" was all he managed to say before his lips found hers.

She sat in awkward silence on his couch, as he skimmed the papers in his hands. Her eyes took in his features, and she studied the way his face changed as he read the words. She watched his blue eyes, so much like her own, and her mind formed a million questions she wanted to ask him. She handed him the letters she had brought, all of them were for him, and those seemed to surprise and shock him the most. As he came to the end of them, his blue eyes held sorrow and pain, yet she saw in them something else, regret.

Two weeks had passed since that night. The first part of the week was spent tip toeing around the subject, and then the second half he avoided it. The second week she stopped trying to talk to him, stopped the glances she would send his way, and stopped the little comments she would give to him. It was three nights ago into the third week that he had found out she had filed her resignation with Ecklie. He had not known she was finishing up her cases only to be leaving the lab. In fact, no one knew. All anyone had found out was that she intended to take some vacation time, and only he had found out that it would be permanent.

He knocked on her door, hoping she would be there. She had not answered her cell, her home phone or replied to his messages.

Suddenly the door opened, but again, only to the reach of the chain.

"What do you want?" she asked curtly.

"Ecklie said you were quitting. What's going on?"

She gave him a look that clearly said she was annoyed with him, "I think you should know Grissom."

His mouth gaped open, unsure of how to proceed, "I wish I knew how…"

She wrenched open the door and glared at him, "Don't give me that I don't know shit Grissom! I would think that you'd be smart enough to figure this out, but I guess I was wrong! Do you want me to spell it out for you? We slept together and as far as I know, you initiated it! And now…now, you act as if I don't exist! You won't even acknowledge what happened! And I'm supposed to live with that? No! I've had enough! You chose to walk away that morning, leave before I was even up, and then disregard all that happened. As far as I'm concerned Grissom, this is it, you left. So now I am leaving. I don't want anything to do with you ever again! You hear me? Don't follow me, don't try to find me! Just forget that I ever existed, cause you seem to be awfully good at that!"

She slammed the door in his face, leaving him standing in the hall, to shocked to even move. She leaned against the closed door, a sob escaping her lips, and tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I…I can't believe she never told me," he whispered, not to her, not to anyone. He gripped the letters in his hands, the old slips of paper that held everything he had never known, and his eyes finally met the truth that sat in front of him.

"I'm so sorry," he said quietly to her.

"It's not your fault," she replied simply, handing him the letter that was addressed to her.

It couldn't be right. It couldn't be true. She gripped the box, and re-read the instructions, and then looked at the truth in front of her again, at the tiny little blue line on the stick. It was impossible, it was cruel fate, it was everything she hadn't planned for. She dropped to her knees, holding the cool porcelain as she wretched again.

She had left him, left him far behind in Vegas, and gone back to San Francisco to re-start her old life. Her old boss had taken her back, and all seemed to be going well until she had gotten sick. But according to the test, to the doctor who confirmed it, all was about to change. All the space she had put between them, and he had still found her, and was still part of her life. She did not sleep that night, her mind too full. She paced the room, weighing her options, and constantly wondering whether or not she should call him. If she did, would he want this? Would he drop everything to be with her? Would he accept this? And her mind kept coming back to him saying no, of him abandoning this situation, this life as he had her. Yet she couldn't abandon this, she didn't want to be him. So by the end of the night, her mind was set. She would strive forward, independent, and forge a life for her and her new challenge, determined not to depend on him, or even tell him what was going on. He would be better off not knowing, not having guilt, or scandal, and she would be better off without the drama of him finding out.

She spent the months working, and doing her best to push the memories of her own life from her mind. Yet every time the life within her moved, her mind would fly back to the man who had helped her make it. These were the hardest moments for her, and sometimes in the middle of the night, she would find herself starring at the phone, wondering what would happen if she called him. There were nights when she couldn't help herself, and would dial his number, but as soon as the phone rang on the other end, she would slam the receiver down, reminding herself of the heartache he had caused her, of her promise to be independent and strong.

Finally the day came, when she went through the most pain she had ever been in, only to bring forth the babe that was half his creation. The doctors said that the baby looked like her, with dark brown hair, and her complexion, but when the babe opened it's eyes, she saw his. She cried for joy, for pain, and for the baby who would never know it's father.

As the months and years passed by, the make-shift family she had left in Vegas tried to keep in contact with her, asked her to come visit, but she couldn't. She would e-mail them occasionally, but she wanted them to move forward with their own lives, and they did. As the years passed she heard that Nick got married, and was moving back to Texas with his new wife, who was carrying their own bundles of joy, twins. Warrick and Tina got divorced, and no sooner had they then Catherine found herself in his arms. She felt bittersweet when she heard the news that Greg was engaged, glad that he had found someone who loved him, but sad that her best friend was moving on. He had been the most upset when she had left, and now she knew how he felt. The e-mails and letters from her friends would mention how the man she left was doing, but never in detail. They weren't CSI's for nothing, and had obviously figured out something about why she had left. Eventually, the e-mails and letters became less frequent, and gradually became annual Christmas cards only. Her friends were now preoccupied with their own families.

She watched her child grow, looking like she had when she was young, but with blue eyes that sparkled. The child was incredibly precocious, but never asked about the father, only accepted her mother's love.

Her child was seventeen, almost grown, when it happened. A drunk driver, a terrible car accident, and the teenager was left, as she thought, an orphan, until she opened that fateful box.

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he read the letter addressed to their daughter.

"Anna, you're mother…she was a wonderful person," he paused, taking a breath, "And there is nothing I regret more in this world than letting her go. I…I should have found her, should have been there for you…I…I can't believe she's gone…"

Anna Sidle swiped at her eyes, at the tears threatening to spill over, "She told me in that letter, that her biggest regret was telling you to never come after her. She was stubborn…you both were. But I never asked her about you…so I guess, in a way, it's my fault too."

"Anna, no…" he shook his head, "No, it was never your fault. It was ours, and ours alone. But I know that Sara, your mother, raised you the best she could, and loved you so much, more than enough for the both of us. Don't you ever forget how much she loved you," the tears fell down her cheeks, and he reached over, and gently brushed them away, "And now…now that you're here, I know she would be happy, because I am so glad that you found me."

"I'm glad I found you too, Dad…" she smiled a little at him through her tears.

Grissom's eyes glazed over with new tears at her words, and he took her hand, rubbing it in his, "You look so much like her…"

"I have your eyes."

"But you have her smile."

Fin.