Summary: In which a friendly birthday celebration leads to Grissom's realisation that Sara has moved on. Some SaraGregness.

Disclaimer: Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS own these wonderful characters.

A/N: This is just a little one-shot. Written purely for my own amusement.


"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Gris-som, happy birthday to you!"

Grissom reeled backwards, looking vaguely alarmed at the site of the graveyard and swing shifts all crowded into his dark office.

Catherine darted forward and placed a paper hat on Grissom's head. She beamed at him. Greg stepped forward, clutching a plate on which was a cake covered in white icing. The words 'Happy birthday Grissom!' were scrawled on top in blue icing. A lone candle sat between the t and h in 'birthday'.

"Don't forget to make a wish," Nick reminded his ex supervisor as Grissom went to blow out the candle.

"You still do that?" Sara teased Nick, "That's so sweet."

Nick gave her a friendly punch on the arm. Greg clearing his throat importantly silenced them. "I think we need a drum roll." Warrick obediently used Grissom's desk as a 'drum' for the typical rat-a-tat-tat drum roll.

Grissom looked around at the CSIs, a thoughtful smile on his lips. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled onto the candle. It went out immediately.

The six CSIs cheered as they wafted their hands to rid the office of the minute amount of smoke that the candle had created. Sofia flicked the lights on.

"Who gets the first piece of cake?" Warrick asked hopefully as Greg placed it onto the desk.

"I think the cake holder should," Greg said with a wide grin. Sara shoved him on the shoulder. He clutched at it in mock hurt.

"What about the person who cuts it?" Catherine suggested, brandishing a knife.

"Or perhaps the reason we're all here should get the first slice," Sofia suggested.

"Aw that's boring," Nick grinned.

"What do you think, Grissom?" Sara asked, flashing her supervisor a smile, "Who should get the first piece?"

Grissom thought for a moment before taking the knife from Catherine and cutting the cake into seven slices. "Now there isn't a 'first slice'," he said proudly.

All of the CSIs laughed at such a typical Grissom thing to do. Catherine handed them each a plate.

"Is this a free-for-all?" Greg asked with a grin.

Grissom smirked. "Yes Greg, it is."

With that, all seven CSIs dived at the cake. In seconds, the plate held nothing but crumbs.

"Good cake," Nick remarked through a mouthful.

"Great cake," Warrick agreed, "Good choice Sara."

Grissom's eyes travelled to Sara who was wearing her trademark pursed lips smile as she ate. "You bought the cake?"

Sara swallowed her mouthful. "I chose it. We all clubbed together to buy it."

"The icing is perfect," Sofia said, running a finger around her plate.

"Mm." Greg beamed through his last mouthful of cake. Sara laughed and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. All of the CSIs in the room noticed the intimacy of the action, but only Grissom seemed surprised by it. Catherine noticed the glint in his eyes and touched him lightly on the arm. She moved closer towards him and spoke in a low voice. Grissom bowed his head to hear her better.

"She's getting fed up of waiting, you know. And they get on well together."

Catherine nodded in Greg and Sara's direction, "Almost too well."

An absent glaze came over Grissom's eyes and Catherine was satisfied that she'd said enough.

"We better go," she said, indicating Nick and Warrick, "But thank you for the cake."

"Yeah, happy birthday Gris," Nick added.

"Nice hat," Warrick added with a grin. With a laugh, the swing shift was gone. Grissom took off the paper hat and laid it on his desk next to the empty plate.

"I could use a drink now," Sofia commented, "Anyone else want one?"

"I'll have a soda," Greg nodded.

"Can I share it?" Sara asked. Greg nodded his consent and Sofia left to get the drinks.

An awkward silence fell over the room. Greg saw that Grissom was watching Sara and sensed that he had something that he wanted to say to her. Reluctantly, he told them that he'd go with Sofia to get a drink and left the room.

Grissom turned to Sara expectantly. "Well?" he prompted her.

Sara frowned. "Well what?"

"You and – " Grissom indicated the open office door as if he couldn't bring himself to say Greg's name.

Sara seemed confused. "What about me and Greg?"

Grissom swallowed. He had no idea what he was really asking and Sara did appear genuinely confused. He just needed to know if they were more than friendly work colleagues. Sara realised that Grissom would never come right out and ask her about her relationship with Greg, so she answered the unspoken question.

"We're not dating."

Grissom felt a strange sense of relief wash over him.

Sara continued speaking. "But we have had dinner a few times. We get on well, Grissom; we have things in common. I like him. I like him a lot, actually."

If this surprised Grissom, he didn't let it show. Instead he nodded calmly. "So, is that it?" he asked after a moment's hesitation. "Is that the end of – "

"Of us?" Sara finished. When Grissom responded with a nod of the head, Sara smiled humourlessly. "You're telling me now, after all this time, that there was an 'us'?"

Grissom avoided her eyes. "No. It was just a figure of speech." He paused, giving Sara a chance to fight back the harsh words that were lingering on her lips. "So there's no chance for you and I?" he asked quietly.

Sara laughed bitterly. "I think you killed whatever chance there was for us a while back, didn't you?" The bitterness in her voice was just about managing to cover the emotion that was threatening to break through onto the surface.

Grissom lowered his head in shame. "I suppose I did," he admitted.

A thick silence fell on the room. Sara moved towards Grissom. She raised her hand and brushed his cheek lightly. The action was identical to what she had done a few years back, under the pretence of removing chalk from his cheek. This time, there was no pretence, only fondness.

"I didn't want it to end up this way," she said quietly, smiling sadly.

Grissom gazed into her eyes and wondered when he'd started taking her affection for him for granted. If he could go back to that point in time, he would make sure that he didn't let it happen. Sara was too valuable, too precious for that. But it had happened. Now he was paying for it.

"Have dinner with me," he suggested at last. He wasn't sure whether he was asking her on a date or whether he was asking her to forget Greg and love him the way she had once before. He couldn't even read his own subtext.

Sara stared longingly at her supervisor for what seemed like an eternity. Her face showed that she was fighting an internal battle. Grissom couldn't tell which side was winning until she spoke.

"Grissom, I – " she broke off and breathed heavily. Grissom knew what those words meant. He wasn't a people person but he could read Sara well enough to know that she didn't want to actually turn him down, she just didn't want to accept him either. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Greg returned to the room, swigging a soda.

He glanced between the two of them and wished he'd bothered to consider eavesdropping. On the other hand, maybe it was a good job that he hadn't.

"Uh, if I'm interrupting - " he began. Sara cut him off by flashing him a brilliant smile and taking the can from his hand. She took two sips then handed it back. Both men were watching her intently and she knew it.

Sofia poked her head around the door. "Brass is here to see us," she said, nodding in Grissom's direction, "He's got something on our suspect."

Grissom nodded briskly and followed her out into the corridor. A few minutes later, he realised that he'd left something in his office and went to retrieve it. He stopped at the partially open door when he heard that Greg and Sara were still inside.

Sara was laughing. Grissom heard a rustle of paper that he recognised as the sound of the paper hat. This time it was Greg who laughed.

"It looks better on you," he remarked, teasingly.

"Well, I don't think it's really your colour," Sara agreed, her voice light with amusement.

"Since when have you been an expert on what colours suit what skin tone, Miss Sidle?"

"Oh shut up Greg," Sara retorted fondly. Grissom could almost hear her giving him a friendly shove. He smiled weakly to himself.

"Make me," Greg murmured flirtatiously.

Grissom's stomach tightened. He knew that if he continued to just stand there, his office would soon become a make out spot. So he cleared his throat casually and opened the office door fully. Sure enough, Greg and Sara were standing face to face, their lips barely an inch from touching. They jumped apart guiltily when Grissom opened the door.

"Shouldn't you two be in the layout room?" Grissom asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"Yeah, yeah we should. We're on our way," Greg assured him, dashing from the room.

Grissom retrieved what he'd been looking for. He turned to find Sara staring at him from the doorway.

"Sara – " he began, not knowing what he was about to say. Luckily, Sara held up her hand, signalling for him not to speak.

"I waited as long as I could, Grissom," she said, her voice tinged with regret, "But there's only so long that anyone can wait."

Grissom licked his lips anxiously. "I know." He wanted to apologise but somehow the words wouldn't come. Sara shrugged resignedly, knowing that her supervisor wouldn't say the words she wanted to hear.

They both left Grissom's office. As they walked in separate directions, Sara turned and called, "Hey, Grissom?"

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. She smiled at him; a warm, happy smile that Grissom knew had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Greg. His heart ached.

"Happy birthday."

Grissom continued walking. Sometimes the irony of life stung too much to even think about.


End