Author's Notes: Wow. It took a long time to get this chapter out. I apologize. I hope there still a few people out there interested in reading it;) Thanks for all the kind reviews. Enjoy!
Giving Up
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Here's to you, Mr. Sanders."
Sara lifted the plastic cup of sparkling cider that Nick had shoved into her hand a moment earlier and echoed the sentiment. Celebrating Greg's milestone solve (only twenty more cases to go until he could reach CSI Level 2 status) was good for a momentary distraction. Sara wasn't taking any diversion for granted these days; she needed every second she spent at the lab to be filled with some sort of activity. If it wasn't, her thoughts would inevitably turn to Grissom.
Declaring that she was over him hadn't exactly solved all of her issues. Admittedly, it probably would have had a better shot if it hadn't been a bold-faced lie. She wasn't over Grissom. She doubted she ever would be.
Little did she know, as she fake-smiled her way through the impromptu celebration, that the man in question was watching her, studying the expression on her face like he might a rare species of beetle.
She couldn't see him, hidden as he was by the interrogation room glass. It gave him a freedom to stare at her, one that he was unaccustomed to after years of denying himself the simple pleasure of looking at Sara. He had her face memorized. The shape of her eyes, her cheekbones, her lips, the infinite shades of brown in her hair…but those memories had been imprinted on his mind the day he met her, when she was agonizingly young and he was painfully naïve. But not so naïve, he thought, as to ever let himself believe he could have her.
But the woman sipping sparkling cider with her co-workers resembled that fresh-faced college girl about as much as he still looked like his old, quirky geek-self. The arch of her eyebrow was the same and she'd never had the signature space in her teeth closed up by unnecessary orthodontia, but the innocence he'd fallen so hard for so long ago was gone. She'd seen too much, been through too much. The dead had left their mark on her.
And he blamed only himself. He'd led her into this life, convinced that not only could their profession benefit from her intelligence and vitality, but that if they were equals, not student and teacher or young woman and old lech, he might have some part of her, maybe not everything he wanted, but he'd still have her in his life.
He'd had her. And he'd pushed her away, first into the arms of a cheating paramedic, then into the dangerous comfort of alcohol, and finally, into a situation that had resulted in her seeking counseling in a rape crisis center. How much more damage could he do to her? Was he determined to see the very last sparks of life stamped out of her eyes?
The door to the interrogation room burst open, jolting him out of his thoughts. Greg stumbled out, drunk more on excitement anything else. One look from Grissom was all it took for him to sober up.
"I hammered the last nail in that escalating peeping tom's coffin," he blurted out in explanation of the make-shift party in his honor. Greg swallowed and forced a smile. "Wanna join us?"
Grissom was about to answer when Sara's voice cut him off. "Greg, who are you talking…" She appeared in the doorway beside him. "Grissom?"
"Why don't you move the festivities back to the lab?" he heard himself saying in a tone that was a bit too harsh. "And Sara, whenever you're done partying, Brass has something for us in the Julia Sommers case. "
"Anything about her rape?" she asked. He recognized the look that came over her. The anticipation of a fresh lead, a particular sparkle in the dark centers of her eyes. "Has he found any potential rapists?"
"You know as much as I do, Sara."
It wasn't the words themselves so much as the way he said them, and he instantly wished he'd said them some other way. That shimmer in her eyes faded; it was replaced with a mask of cool indifference. He could actually feel her adding a brick onto the wall that stood between them. But it was a brick he had fashioned himself.
"I'm right behind you," she said, her voice flat. Grissom watched her turn back to Greg. She gave him a little smile in response to the sympathy written all over his face. "Don't go getting cocky, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He waved his hand, dismissively.
Following Grissom out to his car, Sara grew inexplicably angry. How dare he be mad at her, especially for this long. He should be happy. She'd let him off the hook. Years of strain between them, all the times she'd misinterpreted his words and actions to mean more than they did…she'd put an end to it all. All right, she'd kissed him, but it was a very little kiss. And after ten years of sexual tension, didn't she deserve it? Had it been so repulsive for him? Why was he so pissed off at her?
In keeping with the lessons she was learning in Lawton's group meetings, Sara decided to confront the problem, straight on, as soon as they were settled in Grissom's Denali, heading back to the crime lab.
"You know, whatever our history, good or bad, I still deserve to be treated with the level of respect that you'd give to the janitor," she snapped.
Grissom kept his eyes steady on the road. "Sara, you made it very clear that we have nothing more to discuss except work."
"It's not your words; it's your attitude," she shot back.
"I have no attitude."
Sara laughed bitterly. "Sure. You're just the picture of professional courtesy." She shook her head. "Why can't you just pretend that nothing's ever happened between us. It won't be hard!" His jaw clenched, as she continued, "All I want is to do my job to the best of my ability. I want to be able to go home at the end of the day to my cat. And I don't want to spend the rest of my life chasing after something that's never going to let me catch it."
There was a short pause. "You have a cat?"
If they hadn't been traveling at fifty miles per hour down the highway, Sara would have exited the car immediately. As it was, all she could do was sit in the passenger's seat and quietly seethe. Condescending, arrogant, obtuse…asshole!
The moment he put the car into park, Sara was out of it. It gave her minimal satisfaction to slam the door closed, but it was something. Without waiting for him, she stalked into the lab.
By the time Grissom caught up, she'd already found Brass and begun pumping him for the details.
"Some say it's professional courtesy to wait until your partner is present before starting the briefing," he said as he entered the lounge.
Sara's eyes narrowed. "Write me up."
Smelling a fight coming on, Brass cleared his throat. "I hadn't gotten to the good stuff yet, Gil. Amber Monahan, age 19. Lives off campus, which made it a little more challenging to track her down." He looked at Sara. "Want to guess how many Ambers are registered at UNLV?" Grissom's frown put him back on track. "Well, this Amber admits to being friends with Julia Sommers. And to knowing her secret."
"Which was?" Sara prompted.
"She was raped."
"We knew that." Grissom couldn't help shooting a look Sara's way.
"Ah, but did you know that she was having a relationship with her rape counselor, Dr. Lawton Forbes?"
Sara did a double-take that might have been comical under better circumstances. "What? She said that?"
"Like, for sure," Brass quipped. "According to Amber, she was nuts about the guy. In fact…"
"It's impossible," Sara interrupted. "He'd never do that…he'd never take advantage of a survivor! Amber must have been mistaken."
"She seemed very certain." Brass looked at Grissom who was strangely quiet. "I'll check it out, of course, but…"
"Do that," she cut him off again. "Because Lawton would never…"
"Lawton?" Grissom glowered at her, his brow dark and drawn. "You're calling him by his first name and you don't think there's any way he could have taken advantage of a young, attractive patient?"
"I call him by his first name because I'm comfortable around him," Sara retorted. "He helped me. He's been a friend to me. Nothing more." She paused. "I respect him and he respects me." Turning to Brass, she went on, "Your witness needs to get her story straight before she tarnishes the career of a great man."
Grissom snorted softly.
"Sara, you know how much stock I put in your intuition," Brass said, before Sara could lash out at Grissom. "But there's more to this." He scratched the back of his head, as if hesitant to say any more. "So, again, according to Amber, the last time she saw Julia…she was heading off to meet Dr. Forbes." He paused. "This was the same night she told her roommate she was going home for the weekend."
"And she was never seen again," Grissom added, unnecessarily.
Sara stood up, shaking her head back and forth vigorously. "It's circumstantial evidence. And we don't deal in that."
Grissom whipped his glasses off. "We deal init all the time, Sara. Build up enough of it, and you've got a case."
"Then find more," she hissed. "But until you do, don't expect me to jump on your bandwagon."
"Well, we have the pubic hair you found on Julia's skirt. We'll get a DNA sample. Will a match be enough evidence for you?"
Sara stared at the man she thought she knew so well. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.
Brass whistled lowly. "Someone has a crush." He chuckled. "The girl does have questionable taste in men, I'll give her that."
Grissom barely heard him.
She didn't intentionally drive to the counseling center; her car simply took her there. She entered the office twenty minutes after the end of the last session of the night. The receptionist, the woman she'd come to know as Callie, was packing up to leave.
"Sara? I'm sorry, honey, you missed the last session."
Hugging her arms around her body, Sara shook her head. "I just need to talk to Law…to Dr. Forbes. He hasn't gone yet?"
"No." Callie paused, looking Sara up and down. "Go on back."
Lawton was in his office, filling out some papers. He glanced up when Sara knocked on the open door frame. "Sara, what a lovely surprise. We all missed you in group tonight."
"I got held up at work." Her lower lip trembled.
"What's wrong?" He crossed to her and reached for her shaking hands. "Did something happen to trigger a memory?"
"No." She looked down at the ground. "I can't tell you everything. I wish I could. I wish I could tell the job, my responsibilities and oaths to it, to go to hell. I wish I could tell him to go to hell."
"Him?" Lawton released her and slipped his own hands into his pockets. "Besides your rapist, you've never mentioned any other men in your life."
"He's not in my life," Sara corrected him. "I mean, he is, but he's not. Not like that."
"But you want him to be?"
"I don't know what I want anymore." Sara pushed a tear off her cheek. "I just don't understand why, the minute I find something that makes me happy, he has to try to take it away from me."
Lawton cleared his throat. "Have you considered the possibility that he might be jealous?"
"Only in the silliest and girliest of my fantasies."
He laughed softly. "I'm sorry, Sara. That wasn't mean to belittle your pain. It's just…"
"Just what?" Suddenly she realized how close they were standing.
"You're a beautiful, vibrant woman. If he doesn't see that…"
Sara blinked. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"I…shouldn't," he said, his voice husky with raw emotion. "You're my patient and it's wrong. I could lose my license, my reputation." He stepped away, turning his back to her. "There's so much I'd have to risk."
"Risks," Sara whispered.
"But you know…"
"I know." She swallowed. "I'm not worth…"
"You're worth it," Lawton said at the same time.
Her throat closed up. "I am?" she asked after a long time had passed.
He moved back to her and gently grasped her shoulders. "If this man has made you doubt your worth, he's the one who needs his head examined." He paused. "And he's not the one for you."
Sara's eyes were closed so she wasn't prepared for his lips pressing against hers. There was no alcohol involved this time, but just as she had with Nick's friend, she let the kiss happen. It was only when his hand cupped her breast that she realized she might be making out with a murderer.
To Be Continued