Chapter 41
Sitting alone on the sand dune, Sara nursed her mug of tea, lost in her thoughts. This place had always been her personal childhood refuge, a place to escape to when things became too intense for her to deal with. It had never been a good sign when she came here, but for the past week it had become her home away from home.
She turned briefly to look back at the large Victorian house overlooking the water and waved reassuringly. One, if not both, of her parents would be watching worriedly from an upper-story window. That thought brought a quick smile.
They had been amazingly supportive, there when she needed a shoulder to cry on, or leaving her to her solitude when she needed time to think. They hadn't pushed to know what had gone wrong, but they had sensed something was amiss. Sara snorted; a blind man could have seen something was wrong.
She had been a wreck, physically, mentally and emotionally, when she'd arrived. The stress of reliving the accident through the deposition had been bad enough. Knowing that she'd hurt Grissom again, probably beyond the point of repair, had made it worse.
For the first few days, she'd rarely left her room, afraid of scaring the guests with one of her outbursts. She'd already ruined enough lives; she wouldn't do the same to her parents. Instead, she stayed in bed, sleeping occasionally between the nightmares. The only time she came downstairs was to check the mail.
On the third day, her father had practically dragged her to the beach to join in the picnic dinner, coaxing her with promises of homemade ice cream if she behaved. The sheer comedic nature of his actions had broken some of the tension. He held her quietly while she cried and then composed herself, before they went to join the others.
The next day, her parents had insisted she partake of some of the diversions available to the guests. Sara doubted there was any scientific validity to the aromatherapy, but she couldn't argue with the results of the daily massages.
After two days of pampering, she'd rebelled and started helping her parents run the bed-and-breakfast. Even that had been relaxing, whether she was joking with her father as they re-tiled a bathroom or laughing at her mother's stories as they ordered supplies.
Taking a deep breath of the salty air, she smiled again at the thought of her parents' concern. They had never coddled either of their children when they were growing up, proud of their self-reliance and independence. But ever since they came to visit her, Sara's parents seemed to relish in helping her. It was working; last night had been the third in a row without a nightmare.
A cold breeze coming off of the water caused her to wrap her sweater tighter around herself. Sara smiled sadly as it reminded her of a conversation which had taken place shortly after she arrived in Las Vegas.
Nick had just learned she'd grown up along the California coast and teased her for being a "year-round, bikini-wearing beach-bum". The look of confusion on his face when she broke into laughter, nearly choking on her soda, had been priceless.
Finally, Grissom had to explain to Nick that the Pacific currents brought water down from the Arctic. Even at the end of the summer, Northern California's coastal waters rarely warmed above 60 degrees. The only attention bikini-wearers got around here regarded their sanity.
She missed him.
Sara closed her eyes as she felt the moisture forming. There had been too many tears already; she wasn't going to cry any more. It was time to move on. He had made his choice. No, she'd forced it on him, she told herself, wiping away the tears that were forming despite her best efforts.
In hindsight, Sara wished she'd thought of flying to Denver to explain what had happened. She knew it would have scared him, showing up at his hotel room when she had been in that state-of-mind, but the results would have been better.
Sipping her tea, she turned her attention back to the water, watching a Newfoundland puppy playing in the surf. She had forgotten how much she missed the ocean. The desert had its own beauty, but it was nothing compared to this. Las Vegas was loud and ugly, a neon scar on the Nevada landscape. It never really seemed like home.
It never would be now.
Sara let out a sad sigh. His expression when he talked to her in the hallway that last day should have been enough for her to know that he'd given up. She had hurt him one too many times. It hadn't been intentional. If she had stayed, she would have eventually hurt him some other way. They seemed doomed, no matter what she had done.
Getting away from Las Vegas really had been the best decision for her, as far as her mental state went. She just wished the emotional cost hadn't been so high, for either of them. She hoped he was all right. He had been so angry, so hurt when they parted, but she'd been hopeful he'd give her another chance.
For the first week after she left Nevada, she'd waited each day to see if a note from Grissom would arrive. Each evening, when it hadn't come, she'd went back to bed afraid she'd finally hurt him too deeply for him to forgive. Lying alone in her bed, she silently cried as she realized what she had lost.
As the second week began, she worked at accepting that it was over. Every day after she finished helping her parents with the business, Sara headed to the dunes to think, trying to put everything into perspective and to shed her tears in private.
It had been a little over two weeks since she'd left Nevada. Sara knew Grissom would need time to consider his options, but the prolonged silence had told her he had decided it was better to play it safe. In a way, she was glad; it would have been far more painful if he had played along out of sympathy, and then left after she was back to normal.
She really couldn't blame him, not after what she'd put him through, but it was still painful. Hopefully, he'd be able to get over this. The thought that she may have scarred him was still unnerving. She'd never forgive herself he couldn't get over the pain she'd caused him.
Sara shrugged. Right now, she had decisions to make, starting with her career. Originally, she had planned on returning to the lab, even if she decided not to go back into forensics. There were other positions where she could still help.
The department's Public Affairs Office had offered her a position as an assistant director. Ironically, they thought she was the perfect person to deal with the press: she knew the material; years of testifying at trials had given her the ability to explain complex subjects in simple terms; she was articulate; and, they told her, the cameras loved her.
It didn't sound like a thrilling job, but it was something. Since Grissom wouldn't have been her supervisor, she'd hoped that would take some of the pressures off of their relationship. If nothing else, it would have filled the time until she found a better job.
Now, going back to Las Vegas was out of the question. Sara doubted she'd ever get over Grissom if they were in constant contact. Even if she could, it would have been cruel to him to watch her make a new life with someone else. She'd already hurt him too much.
There was always grad school, but it didn't hold the same appeal it once did. She'd been out too long; she'd have to retake all the classes again. Even then, the job market for physicists wasn't great. A visit to her old friends in San Francisco revealed that she could always go back to work there.
Her parents had even mentioned her taking over the bed-and-breakfast. That thought still made her smile. She didn't know if she'd turn it into a thriving franchise or bankrupt it first.
Last night, she'd finally updated her resume. The temporary job in Santa Barbara would last four months and she wanted to have a new job lined up before then. She'd need to contact Grissom and let him know to hire a permanent replacement.
Sara closed her eyes again. She'd need to go back at least once to say good-bye to the team. A wave of guilt washed over her; she hadn't even contacted anyone to let them know she was all right. She'd send an e-mail once she got settled in Santa Barbara.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see the black blur approaching rapidly.
"Roxie!" Sara yelled as the puppy decided to rid itself of the cold water soaking its fur. Laughing, she reached over to pull the Newfoundland into a hug. "Stupid mutt. Let's get inside before I freeze."
Walking back to the house, she amused herself watching the puppy's antics. Roxie had been one of the best stress releases over the past two weeks, from amusing her with games, to curling up beside her at night. She'd miss the mutt when she left.
Her parents had found the stray right after they returned from Las Vegas and had quickly adopted her as a surrogate child. Watching them, Sara had been struck by the realization that they would make wonderful grandparents.
That thought had completely surprised her. She'd never given much thought to a family before, beyond the recognition that her rare periods of sexual activity carried the chance of an accidental pregnancy.
Sara had been saddened when she realized that none of her prior relationships had ever lasted long enough or had gotten serious enough for the topic to even be discussed. Most of her friends her age had already started their families, or reached the decision not to start one. For her, it was something that she never had to consider.
She didn't even know if she wanted children, but she did know she wanted to at least have the option. Her past personal life hadn't been the greatest. At the very least, she intended not to make the same mistakes of burying herself in her new job. She was going to have a life outside of work from now on.
Letting out a sigh, she started to make a mental outline of her resignation letter to Grissom, wondering if she would ever really get over him.
~~~~
"Do you think he's okay?" Nick asked softly over breakfast.
"What do you think, Nick?" Catherine answered shortly.
"Should we talk to him?"
"No."
Both turned to look at Warrick expectantly.
"He's been through enough, already. You know Griss. He's not cool talking about his private life. It's all over the lab now. Give him some time to regroup."
"Retreat, you mean," Catherine snorted.
"Whatever. He has to deal with this his way. If the only way he can do that is retreating, then that's what he has to do. We may not like it, but it's his decision."
Nick and Catherine exchanged shrugs. Since the fight with Sara, neither had been comfortable talking with Grissom. He didn't act like he blamed them for forcing Sara's revelation, but they still felt guilty about it.
Finishing her coffee, Catherine tossed her tip on the table. "See you guys tonight."
Instead of heading home, she went back to the lab. As she suspected, Grissom was still in his office, tackling a stack of paperwork. He'd always been a workaholic, but since Sara left, he'd rarely went back to his townhouse.
"Gil, why don't you head home, get some rest? That'll still be here tonight."
"And there'll be more paperwork to do then and more cases to cover," he said without looking up.
"Look, the interns are here. The new guy starts tonight. I'll handle showing them the ropes. Why don't you cut out of here, take some vacation? You're going to burn out if you don't do something soon."
Grissom paused to take his glasses off and rub his eyes wearily. "I might do that," he said eventually.
"Good. You could use a break," she said softly. "Do you know what you're going to do?"
Knowing she wasn't talking about vacation plans, he considered his response carefully. He finally turned to give her a cryptic look.
"I'm taking your advice. I'm not going to let this consume me," he said before turning back to his paperwork.
"Okay. See you later, Gil. Call me if you need anything," she said sadly, recalling the conversation at this townhouse. He'd decided to move on. Catherine paused to look back again. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn a small smile had crossed his face.
~~~~
Entering the house, Sara noticed the odd looks her parents were giving her. At first, she thought it was because she was wet and sand-covered, but then her mother held up a FedEx envelope.
Taking it, she walked slowly up to her room. She was freezing, but that didn't explain all her shaking. After stripping off the wet clothes and tossing on a robe, she went over to the window seat. She felt her confusion rising as she emptied it. The only thing inside was one of the small, yellow paper evidence envelopes they had used in the lab. It was stiff.
Turning it over, a business card fluttered out. Underneath Grissom's office phone number, the word 'over' had been printed. On the back, he'd neatly listed his home phone, cell and pager numbers, along with his personal e-mail address. He'd even laminated the card.
Sara smiled as she looked back inside the small envelope. It had been filled with pre-paid long distance phone cards.
Sitting alone on the sand dune, Sara nursed her mug of tea, lost in her thoughts. This place had always been her personal childhood refuge, a place to escape to when things became too intense for her to deal with. It had never been a good sign when she came here, but for the past week it had become her home away from home.
She turned briefly to look back at the large Victorian house overlooking the water and waved reassuringly. One, if not both, of her parents would be watching worriedly from an upper-story window. That thought brought a quick smile.
They had been amazingly supportive, there when she needed a shoulder to cry on, or leaving her to her solitude when she needed time to think. They hadn't pushed to know what had gone wrong, but they had sensed something was amiss. Sara snorted; a blind man could have seen something was wrong.
She had been a wreck, physically, mentally and emotionally, when she'd arrived. The stress of reliving the accident through the deposition had been bad enough. Knowing that she'd hurt Grissom again, probably beyond the point of repair, had made it worse.
For the first few days, she'd rarely left her room, afraid of scaring the guests with one of her outbursts. She'd already ruined enough lives; she wouldn't do the same to her parents. Instead, she stayed in bed, sleeping occasionally between the nightmares. The only time she came downstairs was to check the mail.
On the third day, her father had practically dragged her to the beach to join in the picnic dinner, coaxing her with promises of homemade ice cream if she behaved. The sheer comedic nature of his actions had broken some of the tension. He held her quietly while she cried and then composed herself, before they went to join the others.
The next day, her parents had insisted she partake of some of the diversions available to the guests. Sara doubted there was any scientific validity to the aromatherapy, but she couldn't argue with the results of the daily massages.
After two days of pampering, she'd rebelled and started helping her parents run the bed-and-breakfast. Even that had been relaxing, whether she was joking with her father as they re-tiled a bathroom or laughing at her mother's stories as they ordered supplies.
Taking a deep breath of the salty air, she smiled again at the thought of her parents' concern. They had never coddled either of their children when they were growing up, proud of their self-reliance and independence. But ever since they came to visit her, Sara's parents seemed to relish in helping her. It was working; last night had been the third in a row without a nightmare.
A cold breeze coming off of the water caused her to wrap her sweater tighter around herself. Sara smiled sadly as it reminded her of a conversation which had taken place shortly after she arrived in Las Vegas.
Nick had just learned she'd grown up along the California coast and teased her for being a "year-round, bikini-wearing beach-bum". The look of confusion on his face when she broke into laughter, nearly choking on her soda, had been priceless.
Finally, Grissom had to explain to Nick that the Pacific currents brought water down from the Arctic. Even at the end of the summer, Northern California's coastal waters rarely warmed above 60 degrees. The only attention bikini-wearers got around here regarded their sanity.
She missed him.
Sara closed her eyes as she felt the moisture forming. There had been too many tears already; she wasn't going to cry any more. It was time to move on. He had made his choice. No, she'd forced it on him, she told herself, wiping away the tears that were forming despite her best efforts.
In hindsight, Sara wished she'd thought of flying to Denver to explain what had happened. She knew it would have scared him, showing up at his hotel room when she had been in that state-of-mind, but the results would have been better.
Sipping her tea, she turned her attention back to the water, watching a Newfoundland puppy playing in the surf. She had forgotten how much she missed the ocean. The desert had its own beauty, but it was nothing compared to this. Las Vegas was loud and ugly, a neon scar on the Nevada landscape. It never really seemed like home.
It never would be now.
Sara let out a sad sigh. His expression when he talked to her in the hallway that last day should have been enough for her to know that he'd given up. She had hurt him one too many times. It hadn't been intentional. If she had stayed, she would have eventually hurt him some other way. They seemed doomed, no matter what she had done.
Getting away from Las Vegas really had been the best decision for her, as far as her mental state went. She just wished the emotional cost hadn't been so high, for either of them. She hoped he was all right. He had been so angry, so hurt when they parted, but she'd been hopeful he'd give her another chance.
For the first week after she left Nevada, she'd waited each day to see if a note from Grissom would arrive. Each evening, when it hadn't come, she'd went back to bed afraid she'd finally hurt him too deeply for him to forgive. Lying alone in her bed, she silently cried as she realized what she had lost.
As the second week began, she worked at accepting that it was over. Every day after she finished helping her parents with the business, Sara headed to the dunes to think, trying to put everything into perspective and to shed her tears in private.
It had been a little over two weeks since she'd left Nevada. Sara knew Grissom would need time to consider his options, but the prolonged silence had told her he had decided it was better to play it safe. In a way, she was glad; it would have been far more painful if he had played along out of sympathy, and then left after she was back to normal.
She really couldn't blame him, not after what she'd put him through, but it was still painful. Hopefully, he'd be able to get over this. The thought that she may have scarred him was still unnerving. She'd never forgive herself he couldn't get over the pain she'd caused him.
Sara shrugged. Right now, she had decisions to make, starting with her career. Originally, she had planned on returning to the lab, even if she decided not to go back into forensics. There were other positions where she could still help.
The department's Public Affairs Office had offered her a position as an assistant director. Ironically, they thought she was the perfect person to deal with the press: she knew the material; years of testifying at trials had given her the ability to explain complex subjects in simple terms; she was articulate; and, they told her, the cameras loved her.
It didn't sound like a thrilling job, but it was something. Since Grissom wouldn't have been her supervisor, she'd hoped that would take some of the pressures off of their relationship. If nothing else, it would have filled the time until she found a better job.
Now, going back to Las Vegas was out of the question. Sara doubted she'd ever get over Grissom if they were in constant contact. Even if she could, it would have been cruel to him to watch her make a new life with someone else. She'd already hurt him too much.
There was always grad school, but it didn't hold the same appeal it once did. She'd been out too long; she'd have to retake all the classes again. Even then, the job market for physicists wasn't great. A visit to her old friends in San Francisco revealed that she could always go back to work there.
Her parents had even mentioned her taking over the bed-and-breakfast. That thought still made her smile. She didn't know if she'd turn it into a thriving franchise or bankrupt it first.
Last night, she'd finally updated her resume. The temporary job in Santa Barbara would last four months and she wanted to have a new job lined up before then. She'd need to contact Grissom and let him know to hire a permanent replacement.
Sara closed her eyes again. She'd need to go back at least once to say good-bye to the team. A wave of guilt washed over her; she hadn't even contacted anyone to let them know she was all right. She'd send an e-mail once she got settled in Santa Barbara.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see the black blur approaching rapidly.
"Roxie!" Sara yelled as the puppy decided to rid itself of the cold water soaking its fur. Laughing, she reached over to pull the Newfoundland into a hug. "Stupid mutt. Let's get inside before I freeze."
Walking back to the house, she amused herself watching the puppy's antics. Roxie had been one of the best stress releases over the past two weeks, from amusing her with games, to curling up beside her at night. She'd miss the mutt when she left.
Her parents had found the stray right after they returned from Las Vegas and had quickly adopted her as a surrogate child. Watching them, Sara had been struck by the realization that they would make wonderful grandparents.
That thought had completely surprised her. She'd never given much thought to a family before, beyond the recognition that her rare periods of sexual activity carried the chance of an accidental pregnancy.
Sara had been saddened when she realized that none of her prior relationships had ever lasted long enough or had gotten serious enough for the topic to even be discussed. Most of her friends her age had already started their families, or reached the decision not to start one. For her, it was something that she never had to consider.
She didn't even know if she wanted children, but she did know she wanted to at least have the option. Her past personal life hadn't been the greatest. At the very least, she intended not to make the same mistakes of burying herself in her new job. She was going to have a life outside of work from now on.
Letting out a sigh, she started to make a mental outline of her resignation letter to Grissom, wondering if she would ever really get over him.
~~~~
"Do you think he's okay?" Nick asked softly over breakfast.
"What do you think, Nick?" Catherine answered shortly.
"Should we talk to him?"
"No."
Both turned to look at Warrick expectantly.
"He's been through enough, already. You know Griss. He's not cool talking about his private life. It's all over the lab now. Give him some time to regroup."
"Retreat, you mean," Catherine snorted.
"Whatever. He has to deal with this his way. If the only way he can do that is retreating, then that's what he has to do. We may not like it, but it's his decision."
Nick and Catherine exchanged shrugs. Since the fight with Sara, neither had been comfortable talking with Grissom. He didn't act like he blamed them for forcing Sara's revelation, but they still felt guilty about it.
Finishing her coffee, Catherine tossed her tip on the table. "See you guys tonight."
Instead of heading home, she went back to the lab. As she suspected, Grissom was still in his office, tackling a stack of paperwork. He'd always been a workaholic, but since Sara left, he'd rarely went back to his townhouse.
"Gil, why don't you head home, get some rest? That'll still be here tonight."
"And there'll be more paperwork to do then and more cases to cover," he said without looking up.
"Look, the interns are here. The new guy starts tonight. I'll handle showing them the ropes. Why don't you cut out of here, take some vacation? You're going to burn out if you don't do something soon."
Grissom paused to take his glasses off and rub his eyes wearily. "I might do that," he said eventually.
"Good. You could use a break," she said softly. "Do you know what you're going to do?"
Knowing she wasn't talking about vacation plans, he considered his response carefully. He finally turned to give her a cryptic look.
"I'm taking your advice. I'm not going to let this consume me," he said before turning back to his paperwork.
"Okay. See you later, Gil. Call me if you need anything," she said sadly, recalling the conversation at this townhouse. He'd decided to move on. Catherine paused to look back again. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn a small smile had crossed his face.
~~~~
Entering the house, Sara noticed the odd looks her parents were giving her. At first, she thought it was because she was wet and sand-covered, but then her mother held up a FedEx envelope.
Taking it, she walked slowly up to her room. She was freezing, but that didn't explain all her shaking. After stripping off the wet clothes and tossing on a robe, she went over to the window seat. She felt her confusion rising as she emptied it. The only thing inside was one of the small, yellow paper evidence envelopes they had used in the lab. It was stiff.
Turning it over, a business card fluttered out. Underneath Grissom's office phone number, the word 'over' had been printed. On the back, he'd neatly listed his home phone, cell and pager numbers, along with his personal e-mail address. He'd even laminated the card.
Sara smiled as she looked back inside the small envelope. It had been filled with pre-paid long distance phone cards.