-- CHAPTER NINE: Temptation –-

Disclaimers: Refer to Chapter One: Breathe

Author's Note: Please be aware of some course language in this chapter. I have increased the rating to PG-13, just in case. Anyway, just beware if such language offends you.

Spoilers: For this chapter, reference to some episodes during all three seasons to date is fair game.

~*~

- Later that Day –

- SARA'S POV –

For almost an hour, I drove in and around Las Vegas, only to end up here, outside the Green Valley Ranch Casino in Henderson. It was a cool summer night and I'm enjoying the solo time, despite the rush of people around the casino. I certainly haven't been able to think by myself lately; if I wasn't at work, I would be at home with Jessica and in between, I'd usually be rushing to run some simple errands. Here I was, doing 100 when the speed limit read 40; running around like a lunatic while Nick went off with that bitch.

I parked the car and walked for several minutes; I glanced around and realized where I was. I was in front of a popular watering hole called Fadó. I hesitated to enter, but the urge to rid myself of my bitterness and anger forced me to push open the door. Standing in the front entrance, I heard the loud broadcast of the rugby match in the background as I scoured the place for a seat. At last, I spotted a free seat next to the window, and so I perched myself there and ordered myself a cool bottle of Carlsberg.

"Sara?" I heard a voice question. "Is that you?" he continued.

Without looking up, I immediately recognized the distinctive voice. 'Great, just what I need,' I told myself, but managed to smile politely and answer, "Hi Grissom." I immediately ask myself what he was doing here, but then again, I can ask myself the same question.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, pulling up a stool beside mine.

"Can't a girl go out for a drink anymore?" I replied, trying to deflect the attention. He looks at me with furrowed eyebrows and knocks back a shot of Irish whiskey.

"I gave Nick the night off, is he around?"

"What's with the twenty questions? I should be asking you what you're doing here," I retorted, again, trying to deflect the question.

"Fair enough. I just got back from Lindsey's recital. And, I needed to clear my head."

I chuckle, "Was the show too 'hip' for you?"

He shook his head before taking another long sip of whiskey. He cupped the glass between his palms before looking up at me. "Well, it wasn't Swan Lake," he joked.

Together, we sat, both holding on to our drinks.

"Are you and Nick all right?" he asked directly. I scoffed at his comment, before I realized that something must be bothering him.

"We'll need more drinks if we go down that path," I said. "You're not here because you didn't enjoy Lindsey's show, are you?" I questioned in the same breathe. He smiled a lopsided grin.

"No. No I'm not, it was a great show," he answered. "But Catherine and I got into a disagreement, and both of us just need some breathing space."

'Wow, we were actually on the same boat – well, almost.' I thought. "Ditto. And we'll leave it at that," I finally confessed. I exhaled aloud and placed my head atop the empty beer bottle that I held in my hand. "It just that, ah, I don't know. It's been a never ending fight with Nick," I mumbled in frustration.

The comment must have caught Grissom by surprise, since for several minutes he didn't speak. Instead, he just stared at the line of whiskeys he has consumed, all the while munching on a basket of Limerick Chicken tenders. I too passed the time by munching on a Gaelic Vegetable Boxty; it was potato pancake stuffed with grilled vegetables. And despite the awkward hour, they were still happy to serve such a unique dish, which was sort of a comfort food for me.

"Sara, all marriages are flawed," he slurred. It looked as if the silence and booze had transformed him. "I can't tell you how many times Catherine and I have fought over the silliest things," he laughed. He turned his head towards me and raised the glass pint of beer in his hand.

We toast before I replied, "At least you haven't cheated on Catherine." The drinks must be getting to me; for at this point, my bitterness and anger were rearing their ugly heads.

"What do you mean?" Grissom asked, pouring himself some of the Smirnoff ice that I had ordered.

"That fucking bastard's been cheating on me. The nerve, thinking that I didn't know," I scoffed. "He walked in today, smelling like peaches. Peaches!" At the time, it might have sounded silly, but to me, it was more than that.

"You hate peaches," Grissom said. And for a man with little observation skills concerning relationships, he was right. I hated peaches. I am, in fact, allergic to them. "Sara, Nick loves you," he attempted to reassure.

"He doesn't love me enough to tell me the truth. I had to find out for myself, from someone else," I answered bitterly. It was true, it was all the talk in the lab, and Greg, the true and honest friend that he was, had confided in me. We both were in the lab one night, and maybe it was the talk of divorce or infidelity that made him blurt out an indirect comment about Nick and Mia, but he said it. Now, it was out in the open, Nick's dirty laundry for the whole lab to know. For months, I have been walking around the lab in shame, but my faith in Nick burned brightly. I guess it was naïve of me to think that he'd leave her, come back to me, and tell me what he had done. "Damn him!" I cursed.

"Okay, let's entertain your theory, who do you think it is?" Grissom asked.

At this point, I know that the alcohol was completely blurring our senses, "That hot shot chick, Mia, from Brocklyn," I replied, swinging a class of vodka in the air as I mispronounced the word Brooklyn.

"Hey, remember when you were once the hot shot girl from San Francisco?" he countered.

I laughed, I remember. "Remember when I considered leaving Las Vegas for a position with the feds?"

"And I sent you a plant," he snorted.

"Don't feel bad, I'm the one who stayed for the bloody plant," I answered, again, laughing aloud.

"Remember when I said I never cared much about beauty until I met you?" he laughed.

"Or how about the time when that lawyer asked us about the 'chalk incident' a while back?" I added.

"Right, the violation of personal space between coworkers," he laughed, letting out a small burp.

"Remember when I asked you to dinner after the explosion?" I asked.

"And I said no," Grissom confirmed. Our banter paused for a moment while I recalled the pain that I underwent. I must admit, before Nick, there was Grissom. And after the explosion in the lab, I guess you can say that it pushed me to reach out for him, I decided to take a chance to get to know him, and I thought that asking my boss to dinner would do the trick. That was, until he turned me down.

"And here we are," I sighed. Here we are, miserable in our marriages and knocking back half a dozen types of drinks.

"The many unanswered questions," he stated. "Like what would have happened if I agreed to have dinner with you," he continued. The tone in his voice was now serious; it forced me to look into his blue eyes. I could only laugh at his comment; but in doing so, he moved himself closer to me. My breathing became intense, as the situation grew awkward. I felt his heavy breathing as he leaned in and I unconsciously stared at his lips briefly. Tempted, I fought the urge to kiss him; but instead, he leaned in and gently brushed his lips against mine.

I sat stiff, feeling nothing. And as I pulled away and searched his eyes, I knew that he felt nothing as well. I let out a laugh, and he smiled.

"Not as passionate as we both built up, huh?" I managed to say.

"No, not even the alcohol could get us to feel something," he clarified. "We're sad drunks," Grissom sneered.

"Yup, nothing," I agreed, raising my last glass of vodka.

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A/N – I do not own The Fadó Irish Pub, I just used it as an interesting location for this scene. It is an actual Irish Tavern in Henderson, and the respective dishes that I mentioned are unique to the establishment. Nor do I own the Green Valley Ranch Casino. So please, unless you want to end up with less money than you invest in lawyers, there is no advantage to suing me.

By the way, random factoid, the Green Valley Ranch Casino is where they film some of CSI's actual Las Vegas scenes.