Chapter 25

Sara left for work early Monday morning, barely a minute after Brenda was picked up for camp. Though she had not made it a habit of going to work extra early since she started working dayshift, Sara was eager to see Grissom again. She had neglected to call him since they last spoke and was feeling extremely guilty for leaving him hanging. She had thought about calling him Sunday night, but felt it fruitless. There was no way she could go in to work, and he would most likely be absorbed in what little evidence they had collected anyway. She'd just be interrupting him.

So Sara bargained down her guilt by going to work early. If Grissom didn't want to work with her, she'd understand. She just needed to offer her services once more, to let him know she was there if he needed her. Nightshift was winding down when she arrived at Grissom's office. The door was closed, so she took a breath and knocked. There was no answer. She knocked harder.

Still no answer.

Sara felt her heart jump. A lead! Maybe he had a lead and was out following it… She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and hit #1 on her speed dial, holding it up to her ear.

"Hello, you've reached Gil Grissom. I am not available right now, but please…"

She snapped her phone shut on his voicemail. Shit, she thought to herself, and looked around the hallway, hoping to get a glimpse of him in one of the labs. Or maybe he's out in the desert out of range…

"Sara."

She gasped and turned, completely startled, and saw Greg Sanders behind her, slipping on a light jacket.

"Whoa, sorry about that," he smiled. "You're in early. I never see you anymore."

"Uh, yeah," she said, catching her breath.

"You've still got some time before dayshift starts. You wanna catch breakfast?"

"Thanks but no thanks, Greg," Sara told him quickly, trying to smile. "Do you, uh, know where Grissom is? I know he's working the Carmichael case, but --"

"The Carmichael case?" he said, his eyebrows raised. "We wrapped that one up last night."

Sara's mouth dropped open, her lips forming an 'O' in surprise. "Excuse me?"

Greg flipped his collar up and shrugged. "Boss copped to it. Came in here and confessed Sunday morning. Grissom went home right after we got the confession."

"Wait," she said, holding her arm out to stop him from going. "Ned Meyers? He killed Shannon?"

"Yep."

"Well…why?"

Once again, Greg shrugged. "Dunno," he told her, and made his way down the hall.

Sara stood alone in front of Grissom's office, taking deep breaths. Every piece of evidence they had collected for this case, every photo they had taken, flashed before her eyes. She could hear the voices from all of the interviews buzz in her ears.

"She lived alone."

"She wasn't seeing anyone, to the best of my knowledge."

"Shannon was a bit of a bookworm. Always the first to work. Always the last to leave."

Sara's head began to pound. She imagined the shock on Grissom's face when it all came to a head. Countless hours spent obsessing over every detail of a missing person's life followed by the gruesome discovery of her body were bad enough. Sara had expected a long, drawn out period of reluctant acceptance to follow and had been determined to be there for Grissom, to ease him back into everyday life as best she could. But she did not count on this. A few hours after she left the lab Saturday night, the whole thing spun out of her control and Grissom was nowhere to be found.

She tried his home phone and was directed to his voicemail once again. The workday had yet to begin, so Sara hightailed it out of there and drove the fifteen blocks to Grissom's townhouse, a route she had memorized years earlier and never forgotten. She parked her car haphazardly and ran to his front door, praying that he'd be home and not wandering around the dump site of Shannon's body or some other place that reminded him of the woman he never met.

Sara rang the bell three times and all but banged her fist on his door. If he were asleep, he'd just have to wake up. She needed to make sure he was in one piece, literally and figuratively. As she raised her arm to pound the solid doorframe again, it swung open. Grissom stood in front of her, his face completely blank.

All of a sudden, Sara felt self-conscious. "I-I called you. You're not answering your phones." She tried not to sound accusatory but failed miserably.

"I know."

"Oh."

"How's Brenda?"

Sara blinked and shook her head clear. "She's…she's fine. Fine. How are you?"

He didn't answer, only stared into her eyes. It was a dumb question.

"Greg told me about the confession," she continued. "H-how did it happen?"

Grissom shrugged. "After you left, I called Ned Meyers and let him know we found Shannon's body. She had no next-of-kin, so I figured he'd be the one who would handle any funeral arrangements. He requested a meeting with me right away, came to the lab, and confessed. He said he couldn't take it anymore."

Sara raised her eyebrows. "Why did he do it?"

Grissom stared at her a beat and then answered her. "He said he told her he loved her one afternoon and she didn't reciprocate his feelings."

"So he killed her?"

"Apparently."

Grissom was deadly calm, while Sara felt more frazzled with every passing minute. She wanted to say something so badly, but found herself without words.

"Don't you have work right now?"

Sara's eyes widened and she checked her watch. "Yeah. Yeah. Um…do you need anything?"

He furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

She groped for words. "Just…anything. I know you were up all weekend, and --"

"I'm fine."

"Oh."

They stood in his doorway for several seconds before he raised his eyebrows. "Goodbye?"

"Right," she said, straightening her spine. "Goodbye."

Sara turned and walked down his steps to her car, confused about what had just happened. It seemed as if Grissom had no greater desire than for her to be out of his sight. He wanted her gone. She supposed she understood to a degree. Though she had helped him throughout the majority of his Missing Persons case, she was never as gung-ho about it as he was. She was always pessimistic where he had hope, always quick to shoot down his theories. As Sara got into her car, she could see Grissom still standing at his front door. He had yet to close the door. He watched her as she drove off, and she kept her eyes on him in the rearview mirror until he was out of sight.

TBC…

A/N: I know that this fic is slow-moving. It's GSR, but I don't see how I can have Grissom and Sara making the hot, sweaty love when, right now, they're both in a weird place in this fic. I'll try to update more frequently.