Title: No More Goodbyes.
Summary: She'd stayed for five years in Vegas, and what did she have to show for it, besides work? G/S angst.
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters don't belong to me. It's as simple as that.
A/N: Thanks Carmen for the quick beta. Mossley: How're the hellions? More importantly, how are you? ;)
"I'm not doing this anymore." Her words were expelled in rapid succession, intending to tell him the truth once and for all. "You've jerked me around for too long, played these games too many times to just expect me to stay put. To follow your every goddamn whim."
"Sara, honey…" His hand reached out towards her shoulder, trying to establish some form of contact, a renewed connection again.
But she stepped back, a palm raised in warning. "Don't 'honey' me. It seems I only warrant that term when I'm injured or like now, when I'm leaving you. And that's just not cutting it anymore, Grissom. So please, just… stop. It'll be best for the both of us, you'll see." She gave a faint and torn smile as she saw defeat color his every posture. A silent stand-off was now between them.
I-I-I-I
The palm that had been warning him off earlier now touched his chest and her eyes stared at the pattern her fingers were making on his black pullover. Looking up at his face, her hand cupped his cheek before twisting and gliding the back of her fingers over his beard; the one and only time she gave herself permission to do so.
Sara straightened and stepped away, unwilling, unable, to stay longer. Her resolve had been firm, but it was crumbling against her will. She had stayed so strong for so long, she would not succumb to that man again. "Bye, Grissom. Take care of the others, don't be too hard on them. They might be on different shifts, but they value your guidance. And your friendship. "
That crop of pain and sorrow and anger and denial and love were now in his throat and he couldn't seem to swallow it away. Instead, it kept rising and the words he wanted to say, those that were swirling in his mind, wouldn't come out. He could only nod, drifting his sight away from her eyes, which were able to convey the turbulent emotions so much more than words ever could.
She turned, her eyes downcast and her heart conflicted. She folded her arms, as much for protection as it was to hide her trembling hands. It were just a few steps towards the closed door of his office. Her letter of resignation had been written and turned-in, effective immediately. She didn't want to go to someone else and have it signed. He was still her supervisor after all. And it would be a fitting end. He had called her exactly five years earlier, and she had come with optimism and a spirit that had been bright and free. Now, she was leaving, with a spirit that was more broken than whole, and more heartache than she was willing to admit to anyone. Or to herself.
His lips moved, and after a few futile tries, words came out. "What if… what if I need you too?"
Her chin dropped to her chest and she sighed, staring out through the glass walls with their partially open blinds. "You don't really need me, Grissom." She turned around and stared him in the eye. "I know that now. I don't think there's ever been a time when you've really needed me. Wanted me, maybe. Coveted, desired... but never needed."
Noises filtered through into the office, and she could hear the click of heels on the linoleum flooring in the hallway. "Take care, Grissom. Thank you for having given me the opportunity to work here, and to work with you."
She held out her hand, and he stared at it for a moment before his gaze travelled upwards. Seeing an almost pleading look amongst her resolve, he took it gently, his thumb softly caressing the skin. And then he brought it up to his lips and kissed it once, skin touching skin for several long seconds.
"Bye Sara."
The broken tone of his voice went straight to her heart and she unconsciously brought her arms to her chest again, protecting herself from him. Taking a few steps back, a grimace took up residence on her face, a poor imitation of a smile. A turn on the heel and she was gone, the door closing with a soft click.
Grissom stumbled a little to his chair and sat down, the palms of his hands digging into his eyes. He never expected to feel like this, ever. Numb but broken into so many shards that it was doubtful he'd ever be able to solve and superglue that puzzle together again.
Sara's hand lingered on the doorknob, holding on to that last connection with him, with Vegas. Taking a deep breath she let go and straightened, taking that single step that placed her into the middle of the hallway, the metaphorical road to freedom.
Freedom. She shook her head and knew that the word was exactly that, just a word. She'd already found new employment, scouted the 'net for apartments. But she wouldn't be free of him, of that trail which he had forged into her heart, into her own self. And maybe, just maybe, she didn't really want to give up on him just yet.
Scrambling inside the pockets of her coat and pants she came up with a frazzled and little torn piece of paper, and her breast pocket held a mini-pen. She held the paper against one of the walls and scribbled something on it.
"Grissom?" She'd knocked and carefully entered his space.
It took a while for him to look up, a forlorn expression marring his face. "You're still here?"
"Uhm, yeah. Here." She held out the paper to him, hoping that he'd know what to do with it. "It's my new phone number. You know, if you ever wanna call me, maybe, sometime."
He remained silent, but gazed up at her, enveloping both the paper and her hand with his. "I will. Thank you."
A smile appeared that wasn't born out of desperation. "Great. I'm gonna go now, got some things I still have to take care off. We'll talk sometime." She slowly slid her hand out his grasp, and his hand dropped to the desk, curling into a fist.
"Yeah. Be careful, and don't do anything foolish, Sara." Such as falling for someone like me.
The End.
