Author's Notes: I'm a happy little writer;) Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed. I appreciate it, so much.
Letting Go
by Kristen Elizabeth
If I could change one thing in this world
I'd change your mind and make you my girl
Because I'm lost and I need to be found
Crazy as it sounds
I need you around
- Smoking Popes, "Need You Around"
Grissom,
You'll never get this letter, because I'll never send it. Even as I write these words, I'm not sure why I'm doing it. I could write this to Greg and get a letter back full of ribald jokes and office gossip intended to make me smile. Or I could write to Nick and get back sympathy and quiet understanding. But if I did send this letter to you, I want to think that you'd simply ask me to reconsider whether this job is something I'm meant to do. And right now, I'd have to.
Grissom, I've seen more of death than anyone really should. We both have. Before today, I thought I was well-versed in the infinite ways humans can hurt other humans. I was wrong. I wasn't even close.
The site is in someone's backyard, and I find that the hardest to deal with. For ten years, a farmer and his family have been living with the bodies of their neighbors. Children have played on the grave, never knowing that only a few feet under the soil lay the things in their nightmares.
I want to cry for these people, Grissom. When our translator asked the farmer if he planned to move, he said that there was nowhere he could go where there wasn't death. We chose to live with death. These people weren't given a choice.
Two bodies recovered today. How many more to go? The sonar images say hundreds. If you asked me to come home right now, I would. But I'd hate myself for it later.
I miss you.
Sara
She fed the handwritten pages into the fire one by one, watching her words curl up and melt in the heat. Even after the letter had disintegrated, Sara continued to stare into the flames. Despite her exhaustion from a day spent on her knees in a light layer of snow, brushing half-frozen black dirt away from a jumbled pile of bones, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping that night.
"Sara." Jan appeared at her side, holding out a plastic travel cup. "Meet my friend, Jack."
She took the cup with a rueful smile. "We've met." Downing the shot, Sara winced. "It's been awhile, though."
"Jack helped me through a cheating spouse and his demands for alimony," Jan said. "But I figured Mr. Daniels' healing powers might just help out here, too." She threw her head back to take her own shot. Swallowing, Jan sighed. "No stars."
Sara looked up at the bleak night sky that blanketed their camp site. "It'll snow again tonight." She just hoped her tent really was waterproof. She had no problem with the sleeping arrangements; staying with the bones was important in order to keep them safe from scavengers, both animal and human. But she did demand that she at least not wake up in a frozen puddle.
"What a day," Jan said after a few moments of contemplative silence.
"Yeah," Sara agreed.
"Ladies." Simon sauntered over to them, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "What do two beautiful scientists, unwinding after a long day of digging up death, talk about beside a roaring camp fire?"
Jan gave Sara a second to reply, but when she didn't, she said, "Who would make a better lover, Superman or Batman? Sure, one of them is made of steel, but the other…one word. Toys."
Simon gave them both a look. "Wow. Just wow." He pointed to the second camp fire where the men were gathered. "I'll be over there."
As soon as he was gone, Sara let her pent-up smile go. "I wish I had thought of that days ago."
"He's mostly just annoying." Jan winked. "Cute butt though."
"I really wasn't looking."
"Why not? Oh! Are you…?"
Sara frowned. "Am I what?" Jan raised her eyebrows. "No! No, not me. I like men. I just don't like that one," she clarified.
"Some of the best sex I've ever had has been with men I didn't really like." Jan poured herself another drink from her flask. "In fact, I'm starting to get that itch to have a really reckless affair." She held out the flask.
Sara declined another round with a shake of her head. "Well, he's all yours if you want him."
"That's sweet of you, but he's too young to be interested in someone my age."
"You're only, what, five years older than me?"
Jan laughed as she replaced her flask inside her down jacket. "I'm getting my money's worth out of my moisturizer. Honey, I've got at least ten years on you and him."
Sara suddenly wished she'd accepted the second round. "Why do people get so caught up in age differences?" Her breath swirled around her face in the cold air. "Age is a state of mind, age is just a number…all those clichés are true. I get so sick of it being an issue that has to even be dealt with!"
"Sounds like you're speaking from more experience than I am, so I'll defer to you on this one," she said, calmly, but not without a fair amount of curiosity. "Bad breakup?"
"Not exactly."
"Feel like talking?"
Sara shook her head. "Thanks, but I think I'm just going to turn in." She started walking towards her tent. "See you in the morning."
Once inside her tent, Sara zipped the door flap shut, sealing out the wind. If she could have done the same to her thoughts about him, she would have slept a lot better.
Ever since he'd learned that Sara was in Bosnia, Greg had made it is his off-hours mission to learn as much about the country as possible. He went back through years of forensic journals for articles, pored over a detailed map of the country, and even learned to speak a few words, a skill he was all too eager to show off.
"Zdravo," he greeted Nick in the locker room. "Kako ste? Jas am dobro, hvala."
Nick shrugged out of his coat. "Taking up Elvish again?"
"Bosnian," Greg corrected him, with an air of superiority. "One of the three languages spoken in Bosnia. I'll be starting on Croatian next."
"Your intentions are good, Greg…" He pulled his vest out of his locker and replaced it with his coat. "…but you've gotta find a girlfriend. Soon."
"I wonder what she's doing right now," Greg mused.
"Probably eating breakfast," Nick replied. "Nine hour time difference."
"Ha! You've been doing some research yourself! Now who needs a girlfriend?"
Nick clipped his ID badge to his vest. "I'll tell you who doesn't. Grissom."
"Not following."
"You haven't noticed?" He sighed. "Every time I walk past his office lately, she's in there, sitting on his desk, leaning over his shoulder, acting like she's co-captain of the cheerleading squad and now that the other captain is gone, she gets the starting quarterback as a concession prize."
"Even more lost now."
Nick slammed his locker shut. "The bleach is seepin' through, Greg." Shaking his head, he left the room. As he passed by Grissom's office on his way out to his car, he could hear the distinct sound of Sofia's laughter.
"Still no idea where she is?"
Catherine swallowed the last of her hamburger and shrugged. "The boys know. But they're not telling."
Brass signaled the waitress for their check. "What, are they afraid you'll tell Grissom?"
"I guess so. Although if he tried hard enough, he could find out on his own. It wouldn't be difficult to call up IFFS." She paused to take a sip of water. "I did."
"You did?" He barked out a laugh. "I should have guessed. So, where in the world is Sara Sidle?"
Catherine leveled him with a look. "Are you planning to blab?"
"Hey, I'm staying out of whatever goes on between the two of them. And while we're on it, what would that be exactly?" He took the check from the waitress. "Thanks."
"No idea. He won't say. Although he did take me to dinner the other night, bought me flowers, and managed to have an entire evening's worth of conversation that didn't include bodies or bugs. So however they left things, it couldn't have been final one way or the other."
Brass smiled as he tossed down a few bills to cover their lunch. "Because he's brushing up on his skills."
"Sad, isn't it? He was never pimp material, but you've gotta remember the days when Grissom dated on a fairly regular basis."
"I remember. Seems like a lifetime ago."
"Six years, to be exact." Catherine climbed out of the booth. "She's in Bosnia."
"Hell of a place," he whistled through his teeth. "Is that IFFS going to keep her safe?"
"They'd better," she vowed. "I intend to see Gil Grissom happy again some day." She snagged the last fry on her plate. "Even if I have to crack some skulls, his included, to make it happen."
Brass trailed after her, still chuckling. "I'm looking forward to witnessing that."
"She's cute. What's her name?"
Grissom looked up from his paperwork. Sofia was still in his office, even though he'd stopped actively participating in the conversation several minutes earlier. Apparently she hadn't caught on, because she had turned her attention to his newest pet, brachypelma albopilosum, a Curly Hair tarantula. She tapped lightly on the glass, but the spider ignored her.
There was no way he was telling Sofia that he'd named the spider Sara, in honor of the days when the woman he loved had worn her hair in soft waves around her face and it had taken all of his willpower not to reach out and wrap his finger around a single curl.
"Sofia, can I help you with something?" he asked, pulling off his glasses.
"You can." She planted herself in front of him, leaning forward slightly. Invading his personal space. "Take me out again."
"Take you out…" Grissom stopped as the weight of her words sunk in.
"Did we not have a nice time on our last date?" Sofia snuck him a smile. "Let's have an encore."
He wasn't good at confrontations, but this was one problem that needed to be nipped in the bud.
"Sofia, I can't go out with you."
She pulled back a bit. "Because you're a supervisor and I'm not."
"No."
"Because you don't find me attractive?"
"There's nothing wrong with you. I'm just…"
"In love with someone else?"
His heart pounded when he realized that he was nodding.
Sofia let out a little resigned sigh. "Well, I tried." She stood up straight and gave him a thorough once-over. "Have you kept in contact with her?"
"I don't…" Grissom's throat closed up for a second. "I don't know where she is."
"What would you do if you did know?"
There was something in the way she asked the question. "Do you know where she is?" he demanded. "Sofia?"
"I know where she is," she said, quietly. "Hodges overheard Nick and Greg talking in the locker room. I'm surprised he hasn't jumped at the chance to tell you."
"Tell me." His words were raw; his eyes pleading.
It was at that moment that Sofia truly quit her pursuit of Gil Grissom. He belonged to another woman. And that was that. It didn't matter that the woman was halfway around the world.
But if Sara never came back, it would be her loss. And she would make it her personal mission in life to heal Grissom's broken heart.
To Be Continued