A/N: Thanks for bearing with me thus far. I have to give credit to the folks at PwF, especially Psyched and Alison, for their help with this chapter. What a great bunch!
Spoilers: Clearly, I missed a whole bunch before. Besides Inside the Box, Early Rollout and Getting Off, I need to add Play With Fire, Cool Change, Crate n' Burial, Too Tough to Die, Let the Seller Beware, Invisible Evidence, and I'm sure more that will come later.
Grissom lay in bed, cursing himself for waking before the alarm rang. He hadn't really slept anyway. He had tossed and turned, unable to stop thinking about the situation with Sara. He vividly recalled the day she had come back into his life. She had been a breath of fresh air at a time when so many things were going wrong.
"Norman pushed. Norman jumped. Norman fell."
"Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs. Roper?" The voice had lifted his spirits and brought the corners of his mouth up into a smile.
"I don't even have to turn around. Sara Sidle."
"It's me." Her impossibly large grin lit up the day.
What had happened to that grin? It had been a long while since he'd seen it, even longer since he'd seen it directed at him. She had arrived in town so full of life and energy, always eager to learn and grow. "I keep trying to be your star pupil." He admired that vivacity, but it worried him. He had long since learned that a job like theirs could dampen even the most ardent spirit over time. One could only view horrific cruelty so many times before becoming jaded and desensitized. The only defense was to steel oneself, to hide one's emotions deep within where they couldn't be reached. This philosophy had served Grissom well in all aspects of his life. Or so he had convinced himself. And he had tried to convince Sara, for her own good.
He had encased himself in a suit of armor, protecting him from external assailants. As long as he didn't expose his heart to anyone, he need not fear it being broken. But then Sara had come along. Somehow, she had found a weak point in his armor and stolen her way into his heart. He had tried to push her out, telling himself he was protecting both of them. She had to learn to protect her own heart or she would become burned out, she would lose that love of life he so admired. He was now becoming aware that she had done just that. When she could not get past his defenses, she had constructed her own, effectively withdrawing from everyone and everything. While he thought she wasn't listening, she had been hearing his message only too well.
"I wish I was like you, Grissom. I wish I didn't feel anything." The chain mail slipped over her head.
"You told me to get a life, remember?"
"Did I?"
"You tell me to get a life and then I get one, and then you expect me to be there at a moment's notice. It's, um…confusing." She attached the breast plate securely.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?"
"Nooo…" The helmet fit perfectly over her beautiful face.
"I'm always over-talking around you." She raised the shield, holding it in front of her.
"Then, she gave up"She had done exactly as he wanted, given him everything he had asked of her. She had given up any notion of a romantic relationship with him. She had stopped spending every second of her time on work. She had taken his advice and buried her feelings deep within, making an effort to shield herself from the harsh realities of life. That was as he'd hoped. So why were they both so unhappy?
How odd to realize that the very thing he had thought would protect them both was slowly killing them. He was the reason she no longer smiled. In trying to preserve that vivacity, he had destroyed it. And the end result was that it hadn't worked. They were both miserable. Denying his deep feelings for her had not made them disappear. They were still there, as strong as ever. But it had likely ruined any chance he had of making a relationship work with Sara.
*^*^*^*^*^*
Grissom set his coffee down on his desk and thumbed through the schedule book. He had found it buried under a stack of papers, including a memorandum from the director. He couldn't imagine how he ever found himself in a position involving so much paperwork. It never ended. He sighed as he reached the CSI page of the book. His first priority was to find a day when he and Sara were both off work. He needed to talk to her. They had to get everything out in the open before it was too late. If he couldn't find one soon enough, he would rearrange the schedule a bit. Then he would have to get to that blasted paperwork.
It jumped out at him immediately. His throat went dry, his hands numb. If he stared at it long enough, maybe it would change. His hands began to shake as the book slid to the desk. There, next to the name Sidle was a single word, handwritten by Robert Cavallo. Resigned. Resigned! He removed his glasses and dropped his face into his hands as the weight of the word hit him full force. He had finally pushed her too far. She had given up on him. She had moved on.
The cruel irony of the situation was not lost on him. He had finally resolved to make things right with her. He finally knew "what to do about this." But he had waited too long. "You know, by the time you figure it out, you really could be too late." Damn. She was nothing if not true to her word.
He groaned, knowing there was probably little need to open that memo now. Opening it anyway, he saw that his assumption was correct. It was a notification about CSI Sidle's resignation, as well as a copy of her letter. The letter was carefully worded; she had obviously put a great deal of thought into it. It assigned no blame and claimed no ill will, simply stating she had received an offer in Sacramento that she simply could not pass up. She described gratefully the invaluable experience she had gained in Las Vegas and thanked the lab for the opportunity to work among the best in the nation for more than three years.
According to the letter, he had two weeks. How could he possibly right all of the things that had gone wrong between them in two weeks? Was she even remotely interested in trying to right them at this point? Or was he truly too late? He knew a migraine must be imminent.
TBC
