According to my calculations, they'll be here in about five minutes. To pass the time, I pull out the piece of paper that will grant me the freedom I seek. My letter of resignation. There will be no going back, and I allow myself to ponder the consequences. Grissom will no longer be a part of my life, and I welcome that. But it also means people like Nick, Warrick and Greg will no longer be a part of my life. As much as I would love to stay in contact with them on a regular basis, I don't think I can. I would only be reminded of what I left behind.

Besides, they'll get over me. I mean, since Ecklie split up the team, I've hardly seen Nick or Warrick. My entire life, though, I've found it hard to make friends, and to lose now the only real friends I've ever had, I'll admit it hurts. I'll say a quick goodbye to all of them. And to Brass, Doc, David. I think even to Catherine. I'll apologise to her first, I don't want to leave on bad terms. But I'll have to be careful. I don't want to bump into him when I'm doing all this. My goodbye to him begins and ends tonight.

Speak of the devil. In a crisp, blue shirt and black pants, what's this, he's holding her hand! There goes the idea that his handholds were reserved for me. And look at that, he's smiling. God only knows the last time he even curved his lips at me. When did I become such a disappointment to him? Heck, why should I care anymore, obviously, Sophia knows how to make him happy, she must have, my god, could she possibly be showing any more cleavage?

"Can I get you anything?"

The voice of one of the restaurant's waiters interrupts my thoughts and I turn my attention from the happy couple to the young man in front of me. For a second, I'm tempted to reply, "Sure, an explanation.", but I realise the humour would be lost on him. I proceed to order a salad, all the while mentally reminding myself that I must discard all the conversations that have occurred between Grissom and me that I have stored in my head.

It occurs to me then that I hadn't really figured out how I'm going to confront him. I mean, before my blow-up at Ecklie, he hardly acknowledged my presence at work. How, then, should I get him to notice me at a restaurant? Especially when he can't seem to take his eyes off of her. I told myself in the car there'd be no noisy, embarrassing confrontations. I'm better than that. I guess, though, that leaves me having to subtly manipulate the situation instead.

My mind suddenly registers that the waiter is talking to me again, and I realise that my seafood salad has been served. I mumble a thankyou in reply, not having heard the dish being placed in front of me in the first place. I realise I'm not actually very hungry, and in all honesty, this salad doesn't look very appetising. Oh well, I've got to pass the time somehow. I poke at a prawn with my finger, then realise I really should use a fork.

What's this? A spork! How the heck do they expect me to eat my salad with this deformed implement? Honestly, what is happening to the quality of restaurants these days? It strikes me, however, that this spork could be the way to get Grissom to notice I'm here. I leave my seat and march over to the front counter, which is situated fairly close by to the entomologist and his friend, demanding a proper fork in a raised voice so that I'll be "heard".

The attendant at the counter looks at me a bit oddly, I guess she's not deaf, but after a hasty apology, she hurries off to find the fork for me. The restaurant is fairly quiet, and my lips curve upwards as I hear Sophia's distinct voice calling Grissom's name. Once. Twice. Three times. He heard me alright. I can just imagine his face, eyes looking dazed, mouth slightly open in shock. A shake of the head to inform Sophia she's got his attention again. She's asking him about plant DNA. Ha.

The attendant returns with my fork, and I take it, a wide grin on my face. She looks at me oddly again, but I pretend not to notice, deciding to pay for my meal now so that I can walk out later. I then proceed to leave, reminding myself that I must keep smiling and that I must also avoid all eye contact at a certain table. He cannot know I've seen him. He's the one who's going to come to me tonight, not the other way around. I walk to my table confidently. He's looking at me, I can feel it. Good.

A sense of satisfaction swells in my heart, and I eye my salad with less disdain. I can't afford to glance at him anymore. Every minute or so, I can feel his eyes glimpse over me, and I don't want to get caught looking back. It would spoil everything. But I can't help wondering what I'd see if I did stare back. Pity? Amusement? Bewilderment? Whatever the case, I'm pretty sure he feels uncomfortable.

I realise I have almost consumed all of my salad. I put down my fork, aware that I need something to keep me here a bit longer. I pour myself some water and read over my resignation letter again, each sentence being reread countless times until they had all their meaning. It occurs to me that I haven't felt his eyes on me for a while, and I allow myself to sneak a peek. What? Why are they standing? Surely they're not leaving already. She's gesturing to the door, and heads toward it, yet she's left her jacket on her chair. I figure she's probably forgotten something.

I quickly revert my gaze to my table, but out of the corner of my eyes, I can see him edging closer towards me. He is twisting his fingers together, nervous and hesitant, fully aware that he is approaching dangerous territory. Don't worry, Grissom, I'm not interested in causing a scene. I want this to be over just as much as you do. He glances towards the door. Reassured that he has a few minutes to spare before he has to go back to entertaining, he narrows the gap between us. As he clears his throat, I take my cue and pick up my resignation letter, smiling and saying "perfect" in the process.

"Sara? What's, uh, perfect?"

This is it. I turn to face him, keeping my smile plastered on my face so to feign innocence.

"Grissom! I didn't know you ate at this restaurant." I'm tempted to add a fancy that, or something along those lines, but I doubt it would come out sounding anything other than sarcastic, so I decide not to risk it.

"I'm, uh..." He's tongue-tied again. Then again, I guess it's not pretty easy even for the most articulate of people to tell the woman you promised to be there for that you're out having dinner with her female co-worker just a week later.

"Grissom, I need your opinion on something," I interrupt.

A look of relief passes over his face and he gives me a small smile. "Sure."

"Besides," I say immediately after his answer, "you're my supervisor, you need to know."

A hint of worry flashes in his eyes. At one point, I would've been mildly flattered. Now, I know that he probably had the same look in his eyes just before Sophia announced her big bombshell.

"Just listen, okay? In light of recent events, I've realised I have issues that need to be sorted out. I've also realised that I'll never be able to sort them out fully if I continue working at the lab. Too many reminders, you know? That's why I've decided to resign. I need a fresh start and I just wondered whether you could read through my letter of resignation to make sure my attitude towards Ecklie is completely professional. I don't think there's anything wrong with it, personally, but then again, I'm not entirely objective when it comes to that man."

I end my confession holding out my resignation letter with another smile on my face. It all came out so well, and I think it's safe to say that he believes the issues I referred to are solely concerned with my family problems. You know, I can't say that a part of me didn't enjoy watching his face fluster then fall as his mind absorbed my words. It hurts, doesn't it, Grissom? But what are you going to do about it? You can't ask me to dinner. You can't even try to talk me out of it because Sophia is going to be back any minute now. Heck, you won't even have time to order a plant for me this time around.

"Sara..." His voice is shaky, I'm sure it's laced with panic. As I stare at his eyes, they seem to be pleading with me. Not good enough, Grissom. Realising he isn't going to be reading over my resignation letter tonight, I withdraw my arm and place it into my handbag, muttering a soft "fine" under my breath, as if annoyed. I'm not really. This exchange, if it can be called that, is already tiring me. I need to end it.

I stand up, turning to face him directly. I look into his eyes, challenging him to say something. He doesn't. I push away the pang of disappointment that tugs at my heart.

"You know what?" I ask, my voice slightly rising, "You should have just fired me when you had the chance. It would've saved us both the trouble now."

With that, I push past him, and as I do so, he grabs hold of my arm. No, Grissom, you can't haul me in like a puppy dog anymore. I shake him off and spin around, the bitterness and anger that I had promised to keep under control beginning to surface.

"What, Grissom? You gonna say something to me or do you just want me to look at you standing there like a bumbling fool?"

This definitely hurts him and he replies in a soft yet firm voice, "That's not fair, Sara."

"Of course, I'm the one who's always unfair, aren't I? Well, it's good that I'm leaving forever. You will never have to deal with my unfairness again," I respond angrily, making sure to emphasise the forever part. I can't believe I was so pathetic as to accept all the blame for the awkwardness in our relationship during our post PEAP counselling session.

He looks frustrated now. I'm pretty sure he wants to say something, but to hell with it. I turn around and start walking briskly towards the door. What is taking Sophia so long anyway?

"Sara..." I feel his hand on my hand again. His grasp is so tight, and for a second, I lose sense of all my inhibitions. I turn around to face him yet again, and for a second, I feel like throwing my arms around him. Focus, Sara, why did you come here? To end things. To say goodbye. Don't let him do this to you, it's what he always does, and you know how it always turns out. You hurt him for a couple of minutes, he'll hurt you for a couple of months. No more pain, remember, Sara.

Igaze at our intertwined hands, and it takes all my energy to pull my hand from his grasp. I look up at him, ready to say goodbye, and am stunned to see that his eyes seem moist. Truly like deep, blue pools.

"I thought we were making progress," he whispers.

I ponder over that for a second. I thought we had been making progress too. But the moment I heard Sophia talking about how Grissom had asked her to dinner, the word progress as it pertained to us ceased to exist. Any hope I had ever had of pursuing a relationship with Gil Grissom died.

I remembered then, how badly those words had hurt. The tears that I had cried. The epiphany I had experienced regarding words and how they could be just as painful as a gunshot or a stab wound. Wasn't I meant to share this revelation with him?

"But I think we did make progress, Grissom. I think we came to realise the power of words. Words reveal things, words change things, words linger on long after they've been spoken. In the past week, words have affected me just as strongly as when I walked into my parent's bedroom and saw my father lying dead in a pool of his own blood," I answer, never losing eye contact but trying to keep my voice steady.

There is silence. His expression seems confused. Obviously, this is not the answer he was after. He's the one who's supposed to offer the profound and often vague statements. Not this time. That makes me feel proud. I smile as the truth of what I just said hits me. Words are indeed powerful. Saying what I did to Grissom, it liberated me. And it feels so good , so wonderful, to have ended things between us on those terms. For once, I took charge, I had the upper hand. But I don't want to hurt him anymore.

"Grissom? Sara?"

It's Sophia. Perfect.

"Sophia! This really is the place for a CSI to be at tonight."

She glances at Grissom, who seems lost in his own world, then looks back at me, a confused expression on her face. Is there anyone that I haven't bewildered today? Then again, my light-heartedness towards her just then would've had even me puzzled under different circumstances. I don't think I've ever been so civil with her. I glance at Grissom. He still seems lost somewhere, so I decide I should fill in the gaps.

"I know we've never really got to know each other, and I don't think we ever will, since I've decided to leave Vegas. Nevertheless, all the best."

After a momentary silence and a sidewards glance at Grissom, Sophia smiles at me and says goodbye. I think she adds something, but I don't care about her anymore. My eyes have reverted to Grissom's face. I sense movement, and realise Sophia is walking back to their table. If nothing else, at least she granted me a final, private farewell with Grissom.

I step up to him, look straight into his eyes and offer a small smile. "Goodbye, Grissom."

His previously unseeing eyes snap back to look at me. They're brimming with intensity. My light-hearted mood disappears and I am reminded of why I've always hated goodbyes. If I don't turn around now, I will proceed to become a blubbering mess. No, I can't let that happen. I start to walk off. The sense of freedom is returning.

Yet something happens then that surprises even me. "Don't leave, Sara." He almost chokes on the words. "Things could...change."

Keep walking. Keep walking, Sara. I stop in my tracks. I've spent five years pondering his words. When I drove from work, when I ate dinner alone, when I lay in bed, wasting precious sleeping hours. This may be the clearest thing he's ever said to me. One of the clearest things, anyway. For once, I know what he's getting at. It touches me, that he cares. It really does. But this, this promise, it no longer tempts me.

My wings have been clipped for too long. But they're free now, and though I feel as if I've forgotten how to use them, in my heart, I could never truly forget. Once I'm flying again, I know I won't regret it. It's been so long since I lived for myself, not for Grissom. I can't live my life in his cage anymore, to be observed and let out on occasion, only to be teased by this freedom and made to re-enter the cage.

I become aware of the fact that I've probably been standing still for a while. My mind says I don't owe him anything but my heart says he needs to know. I can't just walk off, I have to answer him, because I know what he'll be feeling when he goes home tonight.

I turn to respond only to jump slightly when I discover he is right behind me.

"Things could change, Sara," he repeats softly, looking at me intently and offering a hopeful smile.

"I heard you the first time, Grissom," I reply quietly, without malice. I stare at him. I can sense that he's torn and still confused. He knows my words about words were not meant to be taken at face value, but I don't think he fully understands my double entendre. And now, wanting to understand isn't enough. I can't help him understand, which is what his hopeful smile seems to want me to do. He's a smart man though, one day, he'll figure it out.

But it's too late now. They are the last words I ever speak to Gil Grissom.

xOx

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yay, it's done. I'm so bad when it comes to completing stories, but I was on a roll and I got this done. For a second there, the angst was ebbing away. I was even toying with the idea of another chapter with a happy ending. But then the angst came back and I realised I much prefer writing angsty endings. Yep, I'm mean. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and to anyone who reviews this one. Oh, and I couldn't help myself, I simply had to include a reference to Spork ;)