Title: Goodbye
Author: Eleen
Pairing: GSR
Spoiler: Promo photos for 8x07
Summary: Grissom began to realize that although he could hold her and feel her heartbeat against his chest, a part of her was still drowning under that car in the desert.
A/N: Woke up this morning with a plot bunny. Thanks to Aspen At Twilight for the Beta.
The nights are getting colder.
The red light's on, it's over.
To give up now doesn't make much sense.
So this is my goodbye.
Surprised, because I thought I could walk you home tonight,
but you're leaving me here on the defense.
-Goodbye, Goodnight by Mae.
The positions are the same, but the roles are reversed.
She's staring into her locker, almost wistfully, he assumes it must be empty now, whatever belongings she left to the last minute to store here would be carefully tucked away in the bag under her shoulder. She's wearing the same leather jacket, but instead of shucking it off, it remains, black leather to cocoon her from the Vegas night she'll wade through later on.
He's not sure where she's going only that she'll be back.
Hopefully.
He's angry that he couldn't save her from this burn out, that in an only month he's not sure she'll be returning to him whole again. There's no timeline this time around.
Why couldn't she stay with him and let him fix her? She never asked for him to accompany her, maybe she doesn't know that he would.
"Your Taxi's here." He reports, making his presence known. She looks up, mild surprise on her face, mixing with the gloom that's settled upon it lately. A shadow he never realized was there, too happy with her survival. Sara had confessed to him a few days ago about how her ordeal in the desert had been bothering her more than she let on, she told him about the flashbacks, how she couldn't shake Natalie off her skin. Grissom began to realize that although he could hold her and feel her heartbeat against his chest, a part of her was still drowning under that car in the desert.
Grissom contemplates approaching her but ultimately decides against it, feeling intrusive upon her private goodbye to her locker, her job.
Should he beg her not to go? Tell her he dreads the first morning without her? Confess his fears that he'll lose himself without her? He wants to, but he can't beg or pester because--when he had to leave, when he left her--she never did. Should he wish her well? Reassure her that he's fine with her leaving? He can't find the words, so instead of stealing them from a long-dead poet, he borrows hers.
"So you're going." His words are low and even, their purpose simply to parrot, but this time a firm declaration to fill the silence.
Sara nods and closes her locker. She adjusts the strap on her shoulder.
"I'll see you when you get back." Grissom says, and he almost wants to smile at the reversal of roles. A light heartened reassuring grin, but all that he produces is a slight grimace.
She makes her way towards the door, towards him.
They both realize that not only is their her goodbye to the lab, it's her goodbye to him. Grissom has accepted it, he and Sara had reached a mutual, silent understanding: she has to leave and he has to let her.
Her arms are wrapped around him, two small beams of warm leather encasing his midsection. She leans her head on his shoulder and squeezes, and he tries not to consider the possibility that this could be their last embrace. Don't leave me… he thinks before wrapping his arms tentatively around her waist.
She lifts her head and he's lost in those brown orbs. And suddenly she's doing what he should have done last time they parted like this: a proper goodbye.
She's turned her head and is kissing him and he stiffens, aware that they're in the middle of the lab hallway, Techs in the their labs working past glass windows behind them. It's instinctual, the rules he's lived by, after so many years of fighting the urge to kiss her at work, that causes him to stiffen. However, then he realizes that the reason she can kiss him is that she doesn't work here anymore. It hits him, and he's both elated and crushed.
So he kisses her back. Because somewhere in the back of his mind it clicks that this might be his last chance to feel her lips upon his. The lips he's become accustom to. The lips of the woman he's become accustom to.
The kiss is desperate and maybe, he realizes, more intense then Sara intended.
She pulls back and breaks the kiss, her eyes flit subconsciously down the hall to check for witnesses. Grissom remains stationary, his eyes fixed on hers.
"I'll miss you." She mummers and disentangles herself from his embrace.
As she leaves and he watches her make her way down the hallway, Grissom remains frozen. Motionless he considers his option. He imagines parting his seas of worry and rushing forward like a character in a movie and pulling her into his arms again. He ponders shouting out a final parting…I'll miss you too? I love you? Goodbye? Good Luck?
But he doesn't. He hopes she's not expecting him to. He knows she should.
As she disappears around the corner he wonders, vaguely, if she'll send him a cocoon, and he finds out soon after that he won't have to wait long for his letter.
Of the spoilers photos, one shows Sara and Grissom in an embrace (looks like there about to kiss) and another two show Grissom reading a letter that I'd bet my salt is from Sara. I know Sara looks happy in the pre-kiss picture, but I decided to make this story angsty anyway.