Chapter 45

Frankensteins

Frankensteins bar hadn't changed at all in the past two months. Gil noted, though, that the place was a lot quieter than it had been on the night he had come here with the rest of his team. Whether the lack of business was because it was almost three am and the patrons had gone home, or if it was the fact that it was a weeknight, Gil wasn't sure, and honestly didn't care.

He hadn't thought he'd ever have a reason to come back to the place at all, so it felt strange to walk through the doors. Immediately he stood out like a sore thumb to the remaining patrons, they surveyed him with a critical eye, their painted lips pulled in amused smirks.

Gil tried to ignore he was under scrutiny, and he made his way around trying to find where Greg and Sara might have been situated. He was concerned they might have already left. He'd wanted to leave work at two am just like Sara and Greg, to get here not long after them – although he'd been very unsure of what he might do once he got there. Gil had been unable to get away from work at two, urgent matters had needed tending to. He had, however, finally managed to slip out at two-forty. He was supposed to be doing fieldwork, which he decided he would take care of after he spoke with Sara. He would have to be quick though, he didn't like the chances of getting caught in a bar nowhere near where he was meant to be investigating.

He was about to turn a corner when he eventually saw them, sitting at a small table, drinks in their hands. Tonight, the music was so incredibly low in the bar, that he found he didn't even have to strain to hear them speak. He moved back behind the safety of the corner to listen.

"Come on, whatever is going on, you can tell me. We've known each other nearly five years, don't you think you can trust me by now?" Greg was saying.

Sara gave a sigh, "look, nothing is wrong, okay?"

Gil recognized the slur in her voice, she'd had a lot to drink already. Immediate concern began to make his limbs grow tense.

"Look, I heard Warrick talking to Cath about you and Grissom having a fight in the trace lab a few nights ago…"

Sara faltered for a moment, Gil wondered if she'd taken that moment to take a sip of her drink, he had his back to the wall so he wouldn't be seen, this unfortunately meant he also could not see them either. "That was a work related discussion," Sara finally responded. "It's nothing to do with how I'm feeling at all."

Gil sighed to himself. It was work related – and it shouldn't have been. It shouldn't have even happened at all, he thought.

"Sara, I'm not stupid, okay?" Greg gave a sigh too, "I might be a goof ninety percent of the time, but I like to think I have some kind of intelligence…" he took a long pause, "I know the look on your face. Guy trouble, right?"

Gil craned his neck to look around the corner quickly.

Sara was staring away into space, her drink still in her hand, "it doesn't matter anymore…really."

Gil felt a tug on his heart just to hear her speak in such a jaded tone.

"If it's got you this upset, then it must matter," Greg responded, "so…" he began, "what's he done?"

"Hmm?" Sara asked.

"Grissom," Greg replied, "what's he done? Cheated? Stole from you? Degraded you? Beat you up?" he reeled off rather seriously.

"Nothing like that," Sara said, "He's just…I don't know…" she took another pause, "I can't talk about this. I can't say anything. Whatever I say doesn't just affect me, it affects him…and he isn't comfortable with me talking about him to people…so…"

"What did he do?"

"The stupid thing is he did nothing…" Sara said, "that's what's so crazy about it…" she trailed off.

"I'm not following," Greg admitted.

"It's too hard to explain," Sara sighed.

"Then why so glum?" Greg asked. "He must have done something…"

Gil couldn't take it any longer, standing there listening to this, he turned the corner, and made his presence known. Sara turned to look at him in surprise. He wasn't sure if it was surprise that he had possibly been eavesdropping, or surprise that he had come here at all.

Greg, however, didn't seem surprised at all to see Gil standing there; it was almost as if he'd expected it.

"He had his head up his own ass," Gil admitted, he looked towards Sara and sucked in a nervous breath, "as usual," he added quietly.

Sara looked down to the table, "Aren't you meant to be working?" she asked rather coldly.

"I'm supposed to be out on the field," Gil answered.

Greg looked between the both of them back and forth, "I'm kind of in the way here, right?"

"Kind of," Gil said, "make yourself scarce for five minutes, that's all I ask."

Greg gave a nod, stood, and disappeared out of sight of the table.

"May I sit?" Gil asked, gesturing to the empty chair Greg had just been sitting in.

"I don't own the table," Sara didn't look up at him.

Gil sat down slowly, he put both his hands on the table, "I…don't know what to say, Sara. I came here with all these thoughts of how I was going to poetically say I'm sorry, but…now…I'm lost for words."

"Typically Grissom," Sara remarked.

"Things were crazy at work when we had that argument. Tensions were running high, we hadn't had much sleep…"

Sara shrugged.

"And I was being an ass."

"Go on."

"You know, ever since I graduated college, the only thing I've ever had in my life is work. I've spent my whole life working up to this moment to be where I am…" he explained.

Sara finally raised her eyes to look at him in confusion, as if to ask what this had to do with anything at all.

"I've spent my whole life working on my career, and never letting people in…" he shrugged, "so…whenever a woman came along from time to time, I knew what to do with her physically, but…emotionally, that was a whole different story…which is why I've never had a long term romantic relationship with anyone."

Sara remained deadly silent, her eyes meeting his.

"And then you came along. And here I am struggling to figure all this out. Despite what you might think…I do know what to do with you physically…" he confessed. "That's not the problem."

"I know that, Gil. I knew that the minute you had me on that bed."

"I still don't know how to deal with you emotionally yet…" Gil said, "and now I don't even know how to deal with myself."

Sara frowned a little, "What are you talking about?"

"I knew who I was. I know what I was, and where I was in life…" Gil answered quickly. "And now…it's like…" he searched for the right thing to say again, "I'm a jigsaw puzzle…the pieces all fit together well enough - you can't even see where it doesn't match up…" he sighed, "But…then it's like…you came along, and picked up a few of those pieces and rearranged them. Made some pieces fit better, made the picture clearer…made it make more sense…" he searched her eyes hoping to see even a glimmer of understanding in them, "Now that I'm looking at the puzzle, I can see there's a few important pieces missing…and there's also one or two new pieces you added that…I didn't know I had…which is making me think you might have the rest of it…"

"Can't you say anything simply?" she put her drink down on the table,.

"How simple do you want me to be?" Gil asked, he reached over to take her hand but she pulled her hand away before he even had a chance to touch it.

Sara didn't answer him.

"How can I say it simply?" he asked. He sat there in silence for a few moments, staring over at her, trying to read the emotions in her face, "I need you in my life…you complete the puzzle."

Sara's eyes glistened, but she did not speak, nor respond. He thought she might cry, but she was being strong, no tears escaped. She didn't take her eyes off him for a single moment.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened…I'm sorry for every little wrong thing I've done…" he explained, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Sorry doesn't just make it all better, Grissom," Sara finally said, her voice was thick with emotion.

"I know it doesn't…" he agreed, he pulled his chair around the table so he could sit next to her, be close to her, she watched him critically. "Tell me how I can make it all better, and I'll do it," he murmured.

She looked away from him, she let her arms rest on the table, she absently picked at a broken fingernail, and said nothing.

Gil put both his hands on the arm nearest to him, "Sara…" he murmured, "I'll do anything…" he confessed.

Sara swallowed, he could see the emotion coming up to the surface, and he could tell she was trying to force it back.

He slid his hands along her arm, to her wrist, to her hand and raised it to kiss her fingers, he never let his eyes leave her, not once.

Sara stared down at the table, not seeing it, not seeing anything anymore, she still hadn't spoken and Gil was beginning to fear it might be too late, that nothing of the relationship could be salvaged.

Gil drew his breath, "Sara…I don't want this to be over."

Sara still remained unspoken, her eyes never leaving the table, she lowered her head a little more, her hair falling across her face.

He reached over and brushed the hair away from her cheek, "I know I hurt you. I never meant to, it was the last thing I ever wanted to do…" he leaned in a little closer, so he could murmur the words as softly as he could.

Sara hadn't spoken for some moments now, and Gil was growing weary of this one-sided conversation. He reached out, placed his hand upon her cheek, and gently turned her face so that she'd look at him, her eyes finally met his once again. They were glistening, tears threatening to spill.

The familiar ache in his heart began again to see her so upset, he was afraid if those tears did fall, his heart might cave in completely, and leave him hollow inside. He swallowed back his own emotion, "I…don't know what else to say," he confessed.

Sara looked away with a slight shrug, the wall of tears in her eyes quivered as she moved, she sighed, the slightest tremble in her body.

He wished she'd just say something, say anything at all. Her body language and her expressions spoke volumes, she didn't know how to deal with him right now – he understood that. But it didn't make it any easier.

You're lying. You know what to say, you know exactly what to say, you've practiced it a hundred times in your mind since getting together with Sara, he thought at himself. It doesn't need to be romantic, it doesn't need to be in a romantic place, the mood doesn't need to be set. This is the right time. She needs to hear it, and you need to say it…so say it already, Gil. Tell her.

"No, wait…" Gil finally said, "I do know what to say," he declared. "I always thought…if I had to say this, then it'd have to be in the perfect time and place because…otherwise it might not mean even half of what it should…" he confessed, his hand was still on her face, he brushed her cheek gently with his thumb, "but now I know it doesn't matter when I say it…" he looked at her, "as long as it's you I'm saying it to…"

Sara's eyes were once again on his, locked.

"I…" Gil swallowed, "I love you."

There was a silence, Sara was just looking at him, the tears still about to spill.

His phone began to ring, he groaned, "Not now," he mumbled under his breath.

"You're still on the clock…" Sara blinked, and the tears came loose, she tried to wipe them quickly, "you need to go…"

"But—" he tried, his heart was torn just at the sight of her tears.

"It's your job…" Sara looked at him, "go."

Gil got up slowly.

It's too late. Telling her I love her doesn't even matter anymore, she's done with me, he thought dejectedly. I blew it.

"I'm…I'm sorry…" he said in a stammer, he reached for his phone in his pocket, and turned to leave, his heart heavy. His heart sore.

hides It's not the end yet! Don't kill me!

Thanks to the people who've been reviewing (I'll name them in 46).