Grissom walked to his rental, and grabbed his bags. He packed nearly everything he owned. He didn't know how long it would take, and he didn't care.
After a few trips in and out, he finally had everything in his room, and headed for the shower. Once he finished, he sat on the edge of the bed. 'What the hell am I going to do for three days?' He sighed and laid back on the bed, 'I'm here Sara, can you feel it?'
'I've been so stupid,' he thought, 'What the hell have a been afraid of? Everything was right there in front of me… right there! What am I going to do? She'll be back in three days, but what do I do…' Grissom got up from the bed, restless, and decided to take a walk.
He made his way outside, and was immediately hit with the smell of flowers, and the sound of happy people. He wanted so bad to have that again, so he walked. He had to keep busy and do something, or he felt like he was doing nothing, just like Sara had said.
He made his way around to the back of the hotel, and took a stroll along the beach. There weren't too many people there this night, since the air was a little chilly. 'All the better,' Grissom thought. As he continued along, he got closer and closer to the waters edge, and finally let his feet do as they wished. He stood unmoving in the water, eyes closed, arms at his side, relaxed.
The wind felt so good around him, he sighed. In the process of Sara and his teenager phase, when they talked 24/7, and couldn't stand not to see each other, they discussed how they had felt when the other wasn't around. When Sara left for San Francisco, she told him the same things over the phone.
"Sara, I can't do this. I need you here." There was silence on the phone, and a sniffle. "I love you Gil…," silence again, and a small laugh. "Remember what I said? When we are apart?" Grissom swallowed, and looked down. "Yes honey, I know." "Tell me, Gil." He sighed and smiled, "I'm still around when you think otherwise. I am the wind playing with your hair, the sun touching your skin."
Standing there on the beach, he laughed. Everyone else would've called him crazy if he had said Sara was a romantic. She had even sent him a song about the things she had said. He was always amazed at how she seemed to find the perfect match out there… songs, movies, poems. She told him it was the same as his way with poems.
Just thinking about her touch after so long caused him to groan. It'd be a long time since they'd really gone to bed together. It felt wrong for the two of them to do anything after their friend had died, so they laid in bed and comforted each other, and that was enough at the time. Now he wanted to show her just how bad he really wanted her, and to make up for all the stupid mistakes he had made.