A/N: This chapter is for all my fellow Jersey girls, you guys'll get the jokes J
--------------------------------------------
Sara checked her watch and tossed her bag on the bed with a groan. It was 7PM and they'd just arrived back at Jeff's house. New York was . . . more than she'd expected, and not necessarily in a good way. She wondered how Jeff had adjusted so well to the public coldness that seemed to be unique to this area.
California, Boston, and Las Vegas had all housed reasonably friendly people who would stop and hold a door for you or give you directions if you asked, but New York City wasn't anything like that. She'd almost been knocked over twice when people plowed past her at lights, and Jeff had laughed when she asked him why she was getting weird looks, then explained that around here, you didn't look anywhere but straight ahead unless you were a tourist. The final straw had been when he'd dragged her along behind him on the way to the train station, telling her sternly that she walked entirely too slow to ever live here.
Maybe she didn't want to find a job here after all, she thought, then immediately checked herself. What, was she scared of the big, bad city? Sara Sidle was not a wuss who refused to learn to adapt to new places. With a decisive snap, she flipped open her laptop.
She may not have been that sort of wuss, but she was a wuss who was afraid to answer Grissom's e-mail, and thus deal with it. Her finger hesitated over the touch pad as she debated opening her e-mail program, then finally tapped the surface lightly. Just because she was checking her e-mail didn't mean she had to reply to him. She didn't have to answer him. Of course she didn't have to answer him. Why would she answer him so quickly? She didn't owe him a response. Really. There was no reason to be so worked up about it, anyway.
No reason at all. Just because there was some meaning lurking behind his words that she couldn't identify, just because she hadn't yet thought of a good enough reply to begin with . . .
With a sigh, she forcibly stopped that train of thought and scanned her inbox. Lots of spam (Who the hell was selling her address, anyway? She was going to hunt them down and . . . sign them up for porn newsletters or something), another note from the listserv, and . . . ooh! An e-mail from Greg and one from Nick! She eagerly double-clicked Greg's mail – he was sure to have something upbeat to say.
Hey there Sara!
Wazzup in NJ? Lab here is fine, pretty much, though you know it's just not the same without you. Grissom's up my ass, but that's normal. I swear, one day I will figure out what he wants and give it to him, and he won't know what the hell to say to me then. But enough about here, you know about Vegas.
So tell me about the evil East Coast! Where in Jersey are you, anyway? What exit on the Parkway, and can you smell the raw sewage from your window (haha)? Just promise me you're not gonna come back a nuclear mutant. Though, come to think of it . . . that'd be pretty cool if you had a fun superpower like telepathy or x-ray vision! Er, ahem, well, as I was saying. How is vacation treating you so far? Are you gonna hit the shore? Bring me back a souvenir, ok? Something Jersey-esque like a airbrushed t-shirt . . . or a girl with big hair (ooh, mail-order girlfriend!).
Ok enough with the questions, sorry. I suck at writing e-mails like this, so I'll give you some info now instead. I know I said the lab was okay, and it is, but dude it's so weird without you. Nick and I are bored with no one to show off to (Catherine just isn't as amused as you are by our tricks), and he totally feels lonely without you at work. Poor kid. Er, well, I feel lonely without you too, though, just for the record! Catherine's a little off-balance too, I think 'cause she's the only girl here again – you know, she likes getting all the attention, but she's not used to it ever since all of us guys fell in loooove with you! She's spending a lot of time hiding out somewhere with Warrick. I swear that those two are on the S.S. Doin' It 24/7. They deny it, but oh, I have eyes that see all!
Ok but what's really weird is Grissom. No, wait for it . . . he's being even weirder than USUAL! He was ok for the first day or so. Being normal, you know – like he didn't even know one of his team was on vacay. But then last night he started looking distracted. He forgot to yell at me twice in a row, Sara. The man's losing it! Ok, but I know you want more detail so you can laugh along with the rest of us.
So how do I describe this. Ok so he came in last night with a file folder that no one recognized, and then it disappeared somewhere in his office – Cath couldn't find it when she went looking later. Then (I got this part second-hand from Nick later) when he gave out assignments he sent Cath, Warrick, and Nick all out together on one case, and put himself alone on another, which is apparently very weird for him. And THEN (this part came from Brass) he was talking to himself while he went over the scene, but not the normal sort of muttering to himself. Brass says he thinks he heard him muttering about someone moving, and a pizza. Who knows, maybe he's moving away to be a pizza delivery man!
But then like I said he forgot to yell at me, and Cath watched him stare at his laptop for something like half an hour straight without doing anything – no typing, no clicking, no nothing.
So I dunno what's up with him, but I thought you might like to hear about it. You know we can't survive without you here. Come home, my darling! *melodramatic swoon*
Greg
Interesting . . . very interesting. So apparently Grissom had spent most of the night thinking about her, or what to write to her, or something. She wasn't sure if that was really a good sign or a bad one, but she knew it was a sign of something. Well, maybe Nick had more to contribute to the puzzle. She closed Greg's e-mail and opened Nick's.
Hey you! Miss you muchly, Sara, you gotta get back here! Everyone's totally confused without you, we're so used to having you there to straighten us out when we screw up and stuff. I feel like I'm about to run into a wall or something.
Hmm, so maybe that's just me being me and walking into things . . . but I'm serious about us all missing you. Cath and Warrick even came up for air long enough to mention that it's weird without you here. She said it was kinda cool to be the only female again and get all the attention, but then Warrick was like, "Yeah but it balances out so much better with you all blonde and talkative and her all brunette and introverted." That shut her up fast, but she laughed about it later, so don't worry that he got himself in trouble. It's true, though, it does feel unbalanced without you here to talk back to people.
Greg's carrying on in his lab about missing you; you'd think you'd never had a day away from the lab at all the way he talks. "Oh, it's just not the same . . . I can't go on without Sara . . ." Heh, you really gotta put the kid out of his misery one of these days. He's so in love with you, and David too! Well I know you tried to tell David you weren't interested, but I think the two of them have a Sara Sidle Fan Club going on or something. But at least they're funny; I need something to amuse me without you here to make fun of when I get bored!
Ok but here's the kicker, and I know this is the part you want to hear about the most: Grissom. Oh, don't you start up about how you two don't totally want each other, you know we all know about it (well, except for him). Ok so anyway, he's gone a little wonky. Barely talked to us when we were all at the lab (ok, so maybe that's not so weird), then he had this phantom file that he wouldn't let us see (you haven't been sending him love letters or something, have you?). And then here's what's really weird: He's gone soft! The man didn't say a gruff word to any of us all night, even Greg.
It's like he thinks you ran away and he's trying to keep the rest of us from following or something. Let me tell you, it's freaky as HELL when Grissom starts playing Mr. Nice-Supervisor-who-understands-our-problems! He actually asked – ASKED – me to process some prints. I can't remember the last time he asked me to do something instead of ordering me to do it. You're the only one he asks to do things ;)
No, but really. Catherine pointed out a little while ago that he worked a case alone last night for the first time in forever. We were all wondering whether he was going to retire and hand the job over to Cath (don't ask – you know why we didn't mention it to you), the way he's been going, but this set us straight! Either you leaving gave him his confidence back (slightly possible) or he wanted to be alone so he could spend the whole night thinking about you. My money's on the second one.
So . . . when exactly are you coming home? No one's bothered to tell me that part yet. And how's New Jersey? Man, that's so not where I'd choose to go on vacation, you weirdo. What's there to see in Jersey, anyway? Tomatoes and pollution? Eh, I guess you have your reasons (which, if you're not catching the hint, I'd love to know about), but dude, keep me filled in. If I'm stuck in this place, I want to at least know you're having fun!
Ok I gotta go, I'm so tired I'm about to pass out on my keyboard. Write me back and I'll talk to you later!
Nick(y)
Sara's mind struggled with which emotion to address first. The guilt about not having told anyone that she might be gone for good? The laughter about everyone's reactions to her being gone? Or the morbid fascination with what was going through Grissom's head that was making him act so weird that people were noticing?
No contest, of course; she flopped back onto the bed, heaved a sigh, and began mentally analyzing Grissom's reactions. So he had been disturbed by her e-mail; that much was clear. What the hell was in that mystery file? Had he started compiling a new personnel file for her, or writing her recommendations in anticipation of her deciding to stay in New Jersey? Maybe he had printed out the e-mail and brought it along so he could dissect it during his free time.
The latter was probably the most likely; Grissom would be determined to mine out every bit of information and nuance he could before he put her note aside. It must have upset him quite a bit to make him write her back what was, for him, a highly emotional plea for her not to leave. Or maybe he was plotting strategy with the e-mail, not composing an apology. Maybe the apology (could she really call it that? She wasn't sure, but she couldn't think of a better word) was strategy . . . maybe he was playing on her emotions. He'd certainly used them to his advantage other times.
What was she going to say when she wrote him back? There really wasn't anything she could tell him to do that would suddenly make her want to come back like nothing had ever gone wrong. Well, except for, "I'm sorry; I know I was wrong to treat you so badly, but I'm in love with you."
And she somehow doubted that that particular statement would make its way into his next e-mail.