DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!
RATING: T – Teen
SPOILERS: Episodes 8X07: Goodbye & Good Luck
PAIRINGS: GSR
SUMMARY: Grissom works through Sara's departure with a little help.
A/N:Thank you all soooooo much for the amazing feedback I received for the first chapter. I was truly blown away by your reactions. And now for the good news... One of my betas has managed to convince me that I shouldn't wait to finish this one, and considering how much I have already written of this thing it really makes sense. So, I will begin posting the chapters as they complete. Being the anal retentive freak that I am, all the chapters have been plotted out and planned, so I basically know how long it will be as well. I hope you all continue to enjoy the piece, and thank you again for reading and commenting. And for those who were worried that I would draw it out until Sara returned to the show (no, I will not believe otherwise, and you can't make me), you can thank GuerillaBeta for pouting, crying and basically shaming me into finishing it right away. :D
A/N2: For the code challenged... The code at the end of Sara's post card was just a replacement code for her new cell phone number, and the "code" with Grissom's title for her number was "Corazon." Corazon is Spanish for Heart.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Immense amount of thanks go to my GuerillaBeta for helping me get this thing off the ground, and for wielding a wicked red pen of death. There is also someone else who deserves the credit for this little monster, and she knows who she is, so we'll leave it at that. .
REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.
Chapter 2
After the postcard's arrival, every day that followed was the same thing. I took Hank for his walk, and no matter what time we got back, we always waited for the mailman before we had our supper and went to bed.
Everyday was one disappointment after another, until a full week had passed. When Hank's pain-filled whimpers began to interrupt my busy work, I finally looked at the time and sank. It was after four in the afternoon, we hadn't eaten, and the postman had never arrived.
As I prepared Hank's food, I happened to glance over at the calendar and I finally understood the problem; Thanksgiving. There would be no mail.
After slipping a piece of turkey from the fridge into Hank's dish, I put it down on the floor and I watched as he gingerly ate around the meat product. It would seem that I wasn't the only one affected by our combined past.
I was scheduled to work, so I went into the bedroom and tried to get a little sleep before my shift.
About ten minutes before my alarm was about to go off, I was still staring at the picture of Sara sitting on my nightstand. She looked happy in the photograph. At least, I thought she did. As the days turned into weeks, I began to question whether I really knew anything about her at all.
Closing my eyes, I hoped to see one of her smiles that I kept tucked away for those moments when I truly needed them to go on. The memories were all I had, and they would have to suffice for the time being.
Before I could open them again, the images of her radiant face flowing through my mind's eye my cell phone bleated with another of those insistent text messages that come to me through dispatch. Obviously, it was going to be an early night.
Throwing my arm out to retrieve the phone, I managed to knock it onto the floor, forcing me to rise from my fitful rest. As I got myself upright, I reached for my glasses and took a deep breath before finding out the bad news for the night.
Sent: 11/22/2007 8:51 PM
CORAZON 4155556379
Thank you… For letting me love you.
My fingers hovered over the keys for what seemed like an eternity. The power of that simple statement clouding my vision, I struggled to find the words to respond to her quiet gesture.
With thick fingers, not meant for such conveyances, I clumsily struck at the keys:
Reply:
CORAZON 4155556379
We can only learn to love by loving. -Iris Murdoch. Thank you for being my greatest teacher.
