Chapter 9

Sara wasn't sure how to answer him. She wasn't sure what her answer was. Did she want him to go with her? From the moment she laid eyes on Gil Grissom, Sara wanted to know him better. Her goal in coming to Las Vegas, besides building her career, was to figure out if they could make each other happy. And as she smiled with him and watched the dummies fall from the roof of a hotel, she was pretty sure he was all she'd ever need.

But five years of waiting had chipped away at Sara's sense of security. She still wanted him and knew that would never change. The reality of it, however, was another story. Her life would not be a fairytale. When Sara was a child, she couldn't afford to believe in them, and she found it was likewise as an adult. If he came with her, Grissom would no doubt take care of her; he'd love her and teach her ASL, keep her company as her world slipped into silence. He'd find a great job and do what he loved. Sara pictured him, a celebrated entomologist of the Seattle area, rubbing elbows with the mayor and the chief of police at a party held in his honor. He'd look gorgeous in his tuxedo. In his own sweetly shy, charming way, he'd captivate his small audience, just like he had captivated her at first meeting. She'd watch from a corner of the room, nursing a cocktail, deaf to everything but the pounding in her head as a pretty, young co-worker of his, an intern at the lab, would brush up against him, touch his shoulder and lean into him as she laughed as his joke. Sara would watch, eyes narrowed, and order another drink.

But then he'd turn his head, lock eyes with her and smile. He'd dislodge himself from the hussy and walk over to her, sharing her small corner of the room, perhaps taking a sip of her drink before pulling her closer to him. He'd earnestly try to keep her entertained, forsaking the powerful people at the other side of the room for his deaf girlfriend sulking in the corner who couldn't laugh at his jokes because she couldn't hear them.

Sara couldn't do that to Grissom. She wanted him to lead a happy life, a fulfilled one. That wouldn't happen if he stayed with her. He deserved better, and it wouldn't be long before he would figure that out. She didn't think he'd leave her, especially considering his mother, but Sara's pride couldn't bear the thought of him staying with her out of duty.

"Honey?" His voice was barely above a whisper. He stood in front of her in his boxers with a look of fear on his face. Sara had never seen Grissom scared. She had seen him angry, jealous, elated, and, thanks to the previous night, horny, but not afraid.

"Why now?"

"Excuse me?" he breathed.

"Why the rush to be with me now?" she asked. "I've been here for five years practically waiting for you to jump my bones." The coarseness of her language seemed to take him by surprise, but Sara didn't have the patience for timidity. "All you ever had to do was say, 'Sara, let's go to my place after work.' You're not stupid; you had to know that I would have done anything you asked."

"Sara, I…"

"So why now?" she shrieked, her voice piercing through the air. "Why, when I'm all set to go? When I'm determined for the first time in a long time to live without you? Do you have some kind of radar? Why now?"

"I don't know…you almost died; I almost died," he mumbled, painfully reliving it all. "I got to the point where I forgot why I couldn't be with you and remembered why I should. I love you, Sara."

"I know."

"And you love me," he said tentatively.

"Love was never the problem. I've always loved you."

"So, what then?"

Sara looked up at him, her eyes locking on his. "Life isn't that simple."

"But what if it is?" he asked. "We've been living life the hard way and where has it gotten us? What if it's all just as simple as picking up and leaving, starting our new life together?"

Sara pounded her fist on the table. "Because I'm going deaf, you idiot!" She immediately clasped her hands to her mouth in shock.

Grissom stood stock-still. "What are you talking about?"

"Son of a bitch," she muttered to herself.

"Sara?" He inched his way over to her. The moment he put his hand on her shoulder, she broke down. The sobs seemed to take over her body, and he stayed close as she turned into a heap of convulsing flesh, the dampness of her tears staining her face and the kitchen table. "Deaf?" he choked out.

She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut as she continued to cry.

"When?"

Sara finally managed to part her eyelids enough to make out his face. "Soon."

"And is there anything we can do?" Grissom asked quickly.

She shook her head and he hugged her tight. He silently lifted her out of the chair and brought her to the bedroom. It took Sara a moment to realize she was in his arms. He carried her with an ease she had not thought possible. He placed her gently on the bed and sat back, his hand on her cheek. Sara closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of Grissom's thumb as it rubbed small circles at her temple.

"Honey?"

She looked up at him, wet lashes framing dark, sad eyes.

"I have to go do something," he whispered. "I'll be back in a half hour. I just need to do something."

Sara looked up at him, confused, but he just pressed his lips to hers for a single, soft moment. He sat back, holding both of her hands tight and bringing them to his mouth. "I'll be back."

She fell into a fitful rest. The tears had taken a lot out of her, and while the release had been a long time coming, Sara felt only more confused now that her secret was out. She dreamed of him. He was signing to her, faster and faster. She couldn't keep up. His fingers were so quick and hers so slow. She tried to move them, but it was impossible, as if they were caught in a vise.

"Sara?"

She opened her eyes and looked down at their intertwined hands resting on her chest. Out of the corner of her eyes, Sara could see a small suitcase propped up against her closet door. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and stared groggily at Grissom.

"I went to my house. I brought some clothes and…" He bit his lip and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a manila envelope. "Do you remember when we met?"

Sara cleared her throat and nodded. She gave him a small smile as she remembered the day she first laid eyes on him. She was barely twenty-five and an eager young CSI Level 1, working for the San Francisco Crime Lab.

"You were so young, so gorgeous," he confessed. "Sara, I've met so many people at so many seminars, but you…well, saying you stood out would be an understatement. You smiled; you came up to talk to me." He sighed for a moment as he remembered. "I'm not…good with people. But I found myself standing there, listening to you talk about the life cycle of blowflies, and wishing I was good enough for you."

Sara sniffled and wiped her nose. Grissom reached for a tissue on her nightstand and continued. "I kept in touch with you because I needed to. I told myself I was just helping a promising CSI, but it was for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to be near you. I have all of our e-mails. Eight years worth." He reached into the envelope and then paused. "Do you remember when I visited San Francisco on a case in '97? Right before Christmas?"

She thought for a moment. "The killer had ties to the mob in Vegas."

"Yes," he said. "I worked that case with Brass and Catherine; Brass was the primary. When I found out the trail led to San Francisco, I marched into Brass' office and told him I wanted to go. I made up some bullshit story about needing a vacation, needing to get away. I told him I'd finish the case there and then take some time off. I needed to see you again."

She leaned back against the headboard as she remembered. She had picked him up from the airport, excited beyond belief to see him again.

"Right after we wrapped the case, the lab there threw the office Christmas party. I stayed because…I wanted to be near you." He pulled his hand out of the envelope. Sara sat up straight and grabbed the photograph from his fingers. "One of your co-workers took this. Do you remember?"

Sara looked up and nodded before returning her attention to the picture. They both looked so young, so happy. His face was clean-shaven and he was wearing a blue button-down shirt, and though it was cliché to say, it brought out the color in his eyes. She sighed for a moment. Dirt brown could bring out the color of his eyes. She looked young as well, wearing a simple party dress and her hair up in chopsticks. The dress was probably still hanging up in her closet, waiting for another chance to be worn. They looked like a happy couple, without a care in the world.

"You kept this?"

"It's in a safe that's bolted to the floor of my office at home," he told her. "I've changed so much, Sara."

"You did? I did. Look how young I was," she marveled.

"You're still young," he muttered. "I've gotten old."

She looked up at him, shaking her head. "No, you haven't."

"I have."

She stared at the picture in her hands. Staring back at her, sure enough, was a smooth, unlined face and bright blue eyes not yet marred with the gloom and sadness Sara had grown so used to seeing these past five years.

"We both have changed," she sighed.

He reached into the envelope again and pulled out a newspaper clipping. In the photograph in the middle of the page was a picture of both of them at a crime scene behind the yellow tape. "This was taken right after that case we had at the Buddhist temple." Grissom handed the yellowing paper to her. "I was thinking about asking you out right about then. I bought tickets to an art exhibit, and I was scouting out different vegetarian restaurants."

"What stopped you?"

"This picture. I opened my Sunday paper and there it was." He looked at it as she cradled it in her hands. "I realized how old I had gotten. This was not even four years after your office Christmas party. I realized that I kept thinking of us as we were then. When I saw this picture in the newspaper, it hit me."

Sara furrowed her brows. "What did?"

"How much…older I was. Am. How much older I am."

She leaned forward. "I never cared about that."

Grissom looked at her for a long while, as if he were testing to see if she were telling the truth. "There's no way I can know that for sure." Sara opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand and continued. "All I can do is trust that you love me."

Her hands fell lifelessly in her lap, scattering the pictures over the bed sheets.

"Right after that…I went to the doctor."

"The doctor?" Sara exclaimed. She lifted her hands to his face. He gripped her wrists, pulling them up to his mouth to kiss the pulse points.

"My mother's hearing condition is degenerative. Degenerative and…hereditary." Sara's eyes widened as her breath grew shallow. "I had otosclerosis…what my mother had."

"This was…this must have been three years ago. Have you had it all this long?"

Grissom shook his head. "I had surgery to correct it about two years ago." He pulled her closer instinctively and told her of his year in limbo. Sara rested her head on his shoulder and listened. It was as if he were giving her missing pieces to a puzzle that she had long ago given up trying to solve. His behavior was beginning to make sense. She understood his fear, for it was the same brand that was coursing through her veins. He had lived through the same pain she had, and had done so alone. And now Grissom was offering Sara the love and support he went so long without.

He kissed her neck and inhaled her scent. "Sara, I trust that you love me. I trust that you won't look at me and see the same old man I see when I look in the mirror. I trust that you won't leave me for one of the many young men who are in awe of your presence." She scoffed and choked out a small sob as he continued. "I trust that you won't leave me." Sara could hear him swallow hard. He was gripping her tight, as if she were his life raft as much as he was hers.

She kissed him right below his ear and sighed. "I think we're gonna be alright."

Sara pulled back and smiled at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Grissom rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I guess I'll have to teach you sign language," he grinned tiredly.

"Teach me the dirty words first."

THE END

A/N: There'll be an epilogue soon. Thanks for the reviews. You guys have been awesome!