A/N: First of all, thank you for the reviews. Second of all, a lot of…stuff has happened on CSI since I last updated (from Nesting Dolls to King Baby), and for the sake of this story, let's just pretend it didn't happen. Denial. It's a good thing.

Chapter 5

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me another secret," he said, ignoring her confusion.

Sara was too stunned to do anything but answer him. "I-I grew up in foster homes."

There was something sharp in the look in his eyes. She didn't know if it was realization or guilt or a combination of both. "Your turn," she whispered.

Grissom stared at his hands for a moment before lifting his gaze to hers. "I didn't recommend you for the promotion because I was afraid of what people would say."

Sara felt her breathing get very shallow, felt her heartbeat in her ears. "What did you think they would say?"

"That I recommended you so you'd sleep with me."

She bit her lip and turned her head. She couldn't look at him. She wanted to smack him. He needed to be smacked. Hard. It killed her that his fear had held her back professionally. Sara had been reeling from the personal hardships caused by his fear for years, but to hear concrete proof that he had let it interfere with her work, the only thing she had left…

Sara closed her eyes. It was a moot point. When the silence came, work would be gone, too. She knew she had better just get used to the disappointment.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, clearly ashamed.

"It's fine."

Grissom leaned closer to her. "No, it's not. Sara, I understand that you're not happy at work and I know it's my fault. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you. Just…please. Don't go."

She smiled dejectedly and shook her head. She leaned back on the couch, her neck grazing the arm Grissom had stretched out along the top of the sofa. "So that's how you know sign language," Sara sighed. "Your mother."

"Yes."

"Was it hard to learn?" she inquired as casually as she could.

"I was little. Kids learn languages easily," Grissom shrugged. "It was normal for me."

Sara could feel his fingers absentmindedly playing with her hair. "Was it hard for her? Being deaf, I mean."

"Well, it wasn't easy," he told her. "But…but I don't think she would change who she is. I know I wouldn't. I learned so much from her. My dad left when I was five. She did everything by herself."

Sara sighed and thought of her own mother, thought of what she had learned from the scant years of living with Laura Sidle. And the best lesson Sara learned, albeit indirectly, from her mother was that you cannot depend on anybody. Dependency leads to arguments, trips to the hospital, visits from social services. As long as you could rely on yourself, you'd be fine.

But as Grissom stroked the baby fine hair on her nape, Sara wanted so badly to throw years of learned behavior out the window and curl up on his lap, to have him deal with her problems instead of facing them by herself.

"What was it like growing up in foster homes?"

Sara looked up at him and then away. "Like…being on a permanent camping trip. I never really unpacked my stuff completely. I always knew I would just have to repack it."

"Did…did anyone mistreat you?"

She made eye contact with him once again. Sara could tell how difficult it was for Grissom to ask her that, how painful it was for him to picture her being abused. She immediately alleviated some of his stress by shaking her head. "It wasn't so bad. I was never in one place long enough to really piss anyone off," she smiled bleakly.

He grimaced.

Sara just shrugged. "It's funny but…I've spent five years in Las Vegas and I still don't feel like I've unpacked yet."

"Sara…"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not staying. I'm not. I don't like it here. I don't like the slot machines in the supermarkets. I don't like the strip clubs and the whorehouses and the casinos packed with gambling addicts. And I fucking hate neon lights."

Grissom raised his eyebrows. "I wish I had known you felt this way."

"Well, now you do."

"Sara, there is more to Las Vegas than casinos and legalized prostitution," he argued softly. "I could show you things far beyond mere tourist attractions."

"You."

"Excuse me?"

"You were the main attraction in Las Vegas…at least for me when I moved here," she told him almost bitterly. "Man, that sounds pathetic. But it's the truth. And now…now it's time to move on."

It took several moments before Grissom could find his voice. "So…you've moved on?"

"I've wised up."


He drove her back home. Nothing was said in the car, although Sara stole glances at Grissom as he kept his eyes trained on the road. She hadn't meant to make it personal. Now he would forever think she left Vegas because he wouldn't date her when all she initially meant to do was clear his mind and make him feel better about her leaving. He had been trying so hard to be nice, trying harder than he had in the past four years. Grissom's actions over the past few days would've glued Sara to his side forever had her hearing not been an issue.

But an issue it was.

He had dealt with the deafness of his mother for what Sara could only assume was the bulk of his life. She was sure Grissom would not feel any prejudice towards her if he were to find out about her condition. The knowledge about his mother should have soothed Sara, but it only made her more anxious to leave. She suspected the attachment he had for his mother would make Grissom feel obligated to be a part of her own hearing loss. That was the last thing Sara wanted to experience: his pity. She was sure now that he would stick by her, help her learn ASL, not leave her alone like his father left his mother.

Sara couldn't let that happen. If she left with him mad at her, then so be it. It was better than him feeling sorry for her.

Grissom pulled up in front of her apartment building.

"I think we should just say 'Goodbye' now, Grissom. Get it over with, you know?"

For the first time since they'd got in the car, he looked at her, his mouth agape. "I'm not going to see you again?"

"I don't see the point," Sara said softly. "I'll fax my resignation letters to the proper places. There's nothing of value in my locker at work. It'll be easier this way."

He fixed his gaze on the windshield once more. "It's not like you to take the easy way out."

"I've been doing it the hard way for years, Grissom." Because Sara didn't want those to be the last words she ever spoke to him, she reached out with her good arm and grasped one of his hands. "I'm glad you were in my life."

She squeezed his hand and then opened the passenger side door, stepping out onto the paved road.

"Sara," she heard Grissom exhale.

Against her better judgment, she turned to look at him. "Yes?"

"I'll see you later."

TBC…