There was a pause the length of a heartbeat before Heather whirled around with a startled expression.
"Gil," she spoke on a breath, "this…this isn't what it seems."
She glided forward, blocking Grissom's view of his wife whose continued silence seemed to be worrisome to him alone.
Placing her hand firmly on his forearm, Heather smiled softly and began to speak in a most conspiratory tone.
"You didn't tell me you were coming here…to meet her…" she started, but was soon sucking in a startled breath as Gil all but ripped himself from her grasp.
In an unusually even tone, he replied, "Why else would I travel across the country, Heather, but to spend this beautiful evening at this reunion with my. wife."
His emphasis on those words made Heather blink hard.
"Gil," she tried again, but by this time Grissom had heard enough and moved around Heather's sultry form to approach Sara.
He found his way blocked by Philip.
Instinctively, his fingers locked into a fist that Grissom was finding very difficult to keep at his side.
"You. Will. Not –" was all Philip was able to say before the two bodyguards returned and pulled the psychologist to the side with little regard to kindness.
Gil found himself staring down the other guard who was glaring menacingly at him.
Not to be deterred, he was calculating the exact moves needed to clear the path to where Sara still remained unmoving when suddenly a cheerful voice from behind their shadowed cove broke through the tension.
"Heather, my dear! Ken! We really should think about joining the members of the committee to begin tonight's commemoration!"
Jovially, the Dean wrapped his both hands around Heather's hand and rubbed hers delicately between his.
"My dear, your hand is like ice! We must get you into the library and perhaps warm you with a glass of champagne," the tall man charmed as he pulled her hand to his side through to his flexed elbow.
"Ken! Come along, we wouldn't want you to miss the memorial presentation!"
The bodyguards moved to flank the Dean as he escorted Heather and an unwilling Ken towards the speakers' dais.
Leaving Grissom to confront a stewing Philip.
"If you think you are going anywhere with her, Grissom," Philip spat as he moved to wrap his arm around Sara.
Imagine his shock when she pulled away from him as if she had been burned.
"Sara?" Philip whispered, his eyes evidencing the pain of her abject rejection.
Shaking her head, it was all she could do to look at him.
"What is it, honey?" Philip tried again, so forlornly concentrated on Sara's reaction that he failed to see the same narrow-eyed reaction on Grissom to the term of endearment.
Matching his steps in retreat as he continued to move towards her, she scoffed, "His brother? You are Ken's. Brother.? And, what…you didn't think that little detail was important enough for me to know?"
Her retreat found her backing up directly into Grissom, whose arms instinctively reached out to grasp her waist and pull her towards him protectively.
"Sara…honey…I can explain it…all of it…please," Philip begged, but by now Sara had turned away from him into the safety of Gil's embrace.
Grissom reveled in the feel of her in his arms, something he feared he deserved to never feel again.
Hanging his head slightly, Philip's attention was turned to the amplification of the speaker's podium where the Dean was calling for the attention of all the attendees.
His lip curled as he watched Heather take the podium to address the crowd…yet her eyes seemed glued to the movements of one person in the crowd.
"Each year, during this alumni gathering, we take the opportunity to remember a man whose philanthropy and generosity was not confined to his devoted family," she began as Philip snorted quietly at Heather's portrayal of her womanizer father and at Ken's socially obligatory acquiescence.
Her speech had been designed to sing the praises of the man whose money was donated to keep the "annals of recorded knowledge preserved for present and future generations of analytic minds".
Again, knowing that this "magnanimous gesture" had been nothing more than a bribe to ensure Ken's admittance as a legacy to this institution, Philip sneered openly albeit privately as he leaned back into the shadows.
Her prepared speech had been lengthy and would have included the traditional toast to her deceased parent.
Instead, seeing Grissom making his way through the mass of formal attired couples, Heather suddenly- and unexpectedly- turned the microphone over to "this man who was also proud to call him 'father'" – leaving Ken to gawk with widened eyes before moving to the microphone and composing himself before reiterating his sister's comments.
By the time most participants had a glass raised to toast the memory of Richard Fuller, Gil was leading Sara through the billowed-curtained entryway.
His steps were halted as Heather suddenly appeared before him, and Gil was forced to come to an abrupt stop or risk bodily slamming into the clearly unnerved woman.
"Gil…we really need to talk," she said, standing regal and determined before him.
"I'm taking my wife and leaving here, Heather," he spoke calmly, but clearly brokering no argument.
"Gil," Heather spoke now as if to a child, "what is the rush? The night is young, and there is much to say."
Ignoring Sara totally, she continued, "I enjoyed our traveling together very much. I hoped that we might be able to…see…each other…and some of the best that this city has to offer."
Shaking his head, for the first time Grissom could finally see the attitude that had made Sara so insecure when it came to his 'relationship' with Heather Kessler.
"My god, Heather. My wife is standing less than a foot in front of you…and you're making overtures towards me?" Gil asked in a quietly incredulous tone.
"Gil…I am trying to be a friend to you…to help you to see-"
Her words were cut off by Grissom's full body turn away from her.
As she watched him grip Sara by the waist and pull her alongside him, Grissom spoke softly to his wife, "C'mon, honey. The night is young, and you look so beautiful tonight. Let's take a walk around campus before we head back to my hotel. I have a lot of things I want to say to you."
Without another word to Heather, Gil moved to sidestep around her but was stunned when he felt Sara being tugged out of his grasp.
"You! This is your fault! Poor Sara…poor lonely, pathetic Sara…always needing rescue..." Heather sneered as she invaded Sara's personal space.
Before she could continue, Gil was tugging on his wife's arm in an attempt to remove her from Heather's vile expressions.
Suddenly, Sara found herself in a bizarre tug-of-war as Heather refused to release the tight hold she had on Sara's forearm while the venom continuing to spew uncensored.
"You don't deserve him…you don't deserve what he has to offer…you're just a pathetic little excuse for a woman…" she chided as Gil now tried to pry Heather's hands from Sara's arm.
"There's no room in this world for someone so worthless, so forgettable…no wonder my brother used you like some little nothing, Sara…and when he was done with you, he tossed you aside like the trash you are-"
"Enough!" Grissom groaned loudly as he finally released Sara's shaking form from her attacker's grip.
Heather was now as Gil had never seen her – or perhaps he was seeing her, the real Heather, for the first time.
The comparison flooded him with adrenaline, as flashbacks to the many times he had defended her to Sara now caused him considerable heartburn.
Totally incensed, Heather unrelentingly moved towards Sara again despite the fact that Gil attempted to keep her safely behind him.
"You should have died under that car, Sara…" Heather whispered loathingly as she looked directly into Sara's eyes, and not even Grissom's surprised inhalations stopped her taunts.
"You won't be so lucky next time."
With that, Heather found herself pushed outside the hall and backed up against the rough surface of the marble pillars by Gil's strong grasp of her upper arms.
"Do. NOT. Threaten. My. Wife." Grissom intoned with a steadiness that revealed little of the blazing inferno ready to surface at any moment.
Heather laughed caustically as she sneered back at this man who had consumed her thoughts oh these many years.
"So…you're threatening me, are you, Grissom? Really, Gil, by now you should know that there's precious little you can do to really harm me," she spoke seductively.
As she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "But…if you really want to play rough-" and her laugh echoed in the night air as Gil abruptly released her, shaking his head in disgust.
If that hadn't been enough to inflame his anger, as Grissom turned to take Sara's hand he found himself whirled around and suddenly pulled tightly into Heather's arms with her lips firmly pressed against his.
He was so shocked by this action that it took him one very long moment before he could wrap his head around what was happening and push Heather off his body.
"Don't. EVER. Do. That. Again." Gil warned with blazing eyes as Heather threw her head back and laughed.
"That was just a taste of things to come, Gil. There's plenty more to be had, and you won't rest until you've had it…all," she purred as she ran her fingers suggestively over her lips which still stung from their abrupt parting.
"I know you, Grissom. Better than you know yourself," she continued to taunt.
He turned from her, but she kept moving behind him.
"And one day soon, you'll be freed from this pathetic excuse for a marriage. Then, well…you know where you can find me."
Grissom refused to reply and grabbed Sara's hand to move them down the stairs and onto the sidewalk of the college campus, the sound of Heather's mocking laughter ringing in his ears.