A/N: I can't apologize enough for the extended delay. Many thanks to everyone still reading.
"Hey," Sara issued her standard greeting. Carefully placing her shoes under the bench, she looked up to face her teammate. "I thought for a minute there that you were standing me up," she teased.
"It's pouring. The traffic's backed up," came the simple reply.
Sara watched him as reached into his bag. "Take your time. We're playing the blind team tonight."
"Good."
"Is that a new ball?" She arched an eyebrow in a mix of curiosity and alarm.
Grissom was barely able to conceal his amusement at her reaction. "Yes, it is. But don't worry, the weight is the same."
"That doesn't mean the balance is!" Sara scolded. She was instantly betrayed by the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"The balance."
"Yes, the balance. It's important!"
"That has to do with the distribution of weight around the sphere, right?"
"Yes," Sara confirmed. "A ball with negative balance has a tendency to move away from the pins. A ball with positive balance moves toward them."
He cocked his head and fixed a serious gaze on her. "That could apply to a lot of things in life." Without waiting for her reaction, he turned back to his shoes. "Is recalculation in order?"
"I guess we'll find out fast," she sighed. "I'll start."
"How's your ankle?"
"It's fine. It only hurt for a couple of days."
"You were limping Saturday," he told her skeptically.
"It's fine," she repeated. "Really. Did I limp running that sample through the lab yesterday?"
"I wasn't watching."
"Uh huh." Sara grinned knowingly as she rolled her first ball.
Lost in his thoughts, he peered through her. They hadn't yet addressed the kiss at his townhouse; they'd seen each other only at work, and diligently kept the world separated. Yet it was never far from his mind. She was never far from his mind. Had he crossed a line? He wanted to, but the internal battle flared again. Once the line was crossed, he knew they could never turn back. All he had to do was remind himself that he was better off with her than without her, and the answer was obvious. He forced the fears into submission.
"Grissom? Hey?" Sara waved a hand in front of his face. "You with me?"
"Yeah, uh, sorry."
The end of the evening drew near. Gil took a deep breath and sat down next to Sara on the bench. She was fidgeting with her shoelace, preoccupied with the night's games. As he removed his glasses and opened his mouth to tell her what was on his mind, she let out a mournful wail.
"I can't believe we lost to the blind team," she groaned. "I can't even blame your ball. I was just off tonight."
"We're still leading the league," he offered. In response to her good-natured smile, he continued. "Would you like to get some dinner?"
"Dinner?"
Grissom nodded subtly.
"To celebrate our defeat?"
"Why not?"
The windshield wipers beat feverishly back and forth, but the wet haze remained. Grissom double checked that they were indeed at their maximum speed. He always hated rainy nights. Not only would there be accidents all over town, but the downpours had a way with wreaking havoc on crime scenes. A glance in the rearview mirror at the driver of the vehicle following him brought a grin to his face; tonight he could enjoy Sara's company and not think about work.
Nervous small talk passed between them as they dined. It was clear that both were thinking of the previous week's encounter, unsure how it would affect their respective futures. Grissom at last decided to broach the subject. "Sara, I think we need to talk."
With her water glass near her lips, her hand froze in mid-air. "Oh God, it's never a good thing when a sentence starts like that." The glass plunked down onto the table.
"In this case, I hope it is."
"Okay," she sighed, her anxiety poorly masked. "Go ahead."
He reached over and tentatively placed his hand over hers. Why did this have to be so difficult for him? The diner was occupied by three other couples. All of them had managed to talk to one another. Why were he and Sara so different? His tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth and darted back in.
"If we're going to make this work, we have to work on our…"
"Communication?"
"Yes." After a lengthy awkward pause, he started again. "I'm sorry, this is uncharted territory for me. I'd like to keep seeing you outside of the lab, but I'm quite aware that a simple apology isn't going to make everything right."
"I'm to blame for this situation, too."
"We don't have to resolve everything tonight. There are a lot of things I'd like to tell you, but if I try to do it all at once, it's too overwhelming."
She covered his hand with her right one, sandwiching it. "We can take it slow."
"Good."
"What about work? People might get suspicious."
"Let's keep it to ourselves for now."
"Okay." She tried to appear nonchalant, but he could hear the disappointment in her voice.
"It's not that I want to keep us a secret, I just think we could do without any outside interference for the time being."
She flashed him the gap-toothed grin he adored. "You're right about that. So where do we start?"
"I have two tickets to Mamma Mia at Mandalay Friday if you're interested."
"Aren't you working Friday?"
"I'll cut a deal with Catherine. She'd gladly cover for me for a few hours on Friday to have Saturday off." He stared expectantly, maintaining eye contact.
"Color me there."
Upon exiting the diner, they discovered that rain had finally stopped. Gil watched her pull out of the parking lot and head for home, and for the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful about his romantic future. Friday night a new phase of his life would begin, and he couldn't wait to get started.
End