Much props to Adyin's One who is an amazingly generous beta and her advice keeps me sane.

Thanks to Leslie, Lori, Whitney, Eliza, & Fishy for the late night chats that both entertain and fuel me!


As he stood outside watching her home, he remembers the exact moment things turned into this, when he turned into this voyeur who stood on the sidelines and watched as the world moved on around him. He had stood by helplessly as she decided that she had enough and moved forward with her life. A life without him. He made no effort to stop her, no effort to sway her into staying and she would never know the personal cost to him.

He almost broke when he started hearing the pain in her voice as she left in those last days. The sound of regret still reverberates around in his mind and he wishes he could change that time. If given the chance, could he go back and at the very least let her know how much her friendship meant to him. He can't remember a time when he hasn't loved her and he felt her absence acutely. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would never allow himself to depend on anyone, get to close to someone. But somehow life without Sara in it seemed a lot less vibrant.

He always knew that there would be a day that she would leave. It was as inevitable as the sun rising and setting. He had mentally braced himself for the day that she would walk out of his life and he had felt prepared. But what he wasn't ready for was the quick, hard jab to his stomach when she handed him that letter. Her countenance in his office spoke to him of moving on but he knew that although she may be ready to, he wasn't. He liked the small, silent abyss he had created for himself. It offered him the comfort of his work and the neutrality of avoidance.

Brass had tried to persuade him to join him in drowning his sorrows, but he declined, brushing him off. He wanted nothing to do with anyone and started to retreat deeper into his solitary role. Even Catherine had given up and told him he deserved to wallow in his self-pity. She would be around for him if he needed her, but she was tired of his moping and barely restrained anger simmering just beneath the surface. She had told him to stop snapping at everyone, and that there was a petition going around at who was going to get yelled at next. He had a feeling who had started that, and was still not amused by it.

It was a cool Wednesday evening in February that finally changed his mind. He stood over the dead body, photographing, cataloging when it struck him at how little he had said to her. Of course she would leave; of course she would terminate their friendship. Sara didn't have much to work with because he never gave her anything. Just random quips and undecipherable riddles. Would she have stayed if he had asked her too?

He booked a flight out of McCarran the very next day. No one asked him where he was going or who he was seeing. The assumption hung there, unspoken and most were secretly glad. If he could persuade Sara to come home, maybe he would be less moody and more flexible. Nick had told him the name of the college that she worked at but only handed that over to him grudgingly. Grissom knew that Nick would not be persuaded to hand over Sara's home address. Nick didn't say it in so many words, but Grissom had the distinct feeling he was not pleased at Grissom's destination.

He had forgotten how cold the winter was and his first order of business was to buy a coat. Perhaps, he had been rash in heading out across the country but he knew he had to leave before his courage deserted him. Hailing a cab, he made his way over the college. It was still early enough in the day, maybe he could catch Sara teaching a class. The prospect of seeing their reversal of roles excited him a little. He was disappointed to learn she had left for the day but the secretary took pity on him and directed him to Sara's home. He hesitated but thanked the lady and hailed a cab.

This led him outside her home as dusk settled and the wind whipped through the gaps and alleys between the rows of brownstones. He turned the collar of his coat up and stood across the street gathering his courage to approach. What was he going to say to her that could make up for everything he hasn't over the years? Was there anything that could bridge the gap he himself created? He started when he noticed a car pull up outside her home and watched as a man, dressed in a long black wool coat, got out and walked up the stairs to her home. Grissom stared as the man pushed a buzzer and called out to Sara. Tom. His name was Tom. Grissom felt a hand clench around his heart as he heard the laughter in Sara's voice call out that she was on her way down. He couldn't bring himself to turn away as she came out of the building and smiled that beautiful smile at Tom. She was stunning, what he could see of her. She looked happy and relaxed, that sad, clenched look faded and it had left behind a more radiant Sara. He watched as they sat in the car and looked longingly after it as it drove away. Of course she had moved on and he was a fool. An old fool.

Grissom made his way down the street and found a local bar. He just had to speak to Sara before once and he would be out of her life.


She was tired and as fun as Tom's company always is, he could always see through her regardless of how much she tried to hide her pain. The effort was always exhausting. She kicked off her shoes and flung herself down on the couch, coat and all. 'Should she have a glass of wine before bed tonight?' Sara pondered. A buzzing startled her slightly and she let out a groan. Tom must have forgotten to say something and turned around. She was not up for this. Pushing herself up off the couch, she padded over to the speaker, "Tom, how about we talk about it tomorrow? I'm exhausted."

"Sara."

She took a step back, hand falling to her side. Grissom. His voice still haunts her dreams and her nightmares. It had shocked her into complete silence. She pulled herself together and returned to the speaker, "2A, on the left."

She took over her coat; slung it over the couch and when she heard the soft knock on her door she approached it with trepidation. Opening it slowly, she smiled at him, "Grissom." She turned and made her way into the kitchen, she was definitely having that glass of wine. She pulled out two glasses and indicated the bottle. Grissom shook his head, "No, I've had a few tonight." Sara just shrugged and poured the wine for herself.

"So what brings you here?"

Grissom leaned against the wall and shook his head. "I hardly know."

"Typical answer, Griss. You should work on that." Sara moved into the living room and Grissom trailed after her. She pointed to the couch, "Sit, you must have had a long flight. Where are you staying?"

Grissom stared at her, finding himself a little caught off balance. He wasn't sure what he expected from Sara, but he did know he hadn't expected this casual greeting and relaxed attitude. She welcomed him into her home without much after thought and that surprised him.

"I'm not, I-I'm leaving tonight." Sara just stared at him, eyebrow raised. "I thought I would see how you were settling in."

"Nick told you where I was, didn't he?"

"No, but why didn't you?" Grissom took a deep breath, and seemed to gather his courage. "I tried to find out where you were several times but you seemed to want to sever all ties."

Sara sipped her wine, "Why Grissom? Why would you work so hard to find me after I'm gone? I was there everyday for seven years, right there." She placed the glass on the coffee table, "Why make this so difficult for both of us. I have never hid my feelings for you; I wore my heart on my sleeve and nothing. Not even the friendship that you seem to value so much."

Grissom just stared at her, at a loss. Sara just waved her hand in the air, "Haven't we done this enough times? I share you stare. It's almost something we've perfected."

"I want to share."

The words were uttered so quietly, Sara almost missed them. She waited.

"I came here to share, to tell you that I was sorry…" he trailed off, looking everywhere but at her.

Sara leaned closer to him, "Why are you sorry? Sorry that you severed our friendship?" She needed him to be clear, needed him to say it.

"Sorry that I wasted so many years. Sorry that I didn't say the things I should have. I could go on, Sara, don't make me." Grissom stood up and reached down to Sara, grasping her hand.

Sara leaned into his frame, hovering slightly. She brought her hand to rest on the back of his neck, allowing it to wander into the short curls of his hair. She wasn't really touching him but could feel his chest rising up and down, inhaling around her.

"You look…" he trailed off and she stood there inhaling the scent of him, all wool and so male. He was making her slightly dizzy.
"I look what?"

"So beautiful, so sexy." he growled, his voice coming from deep with his chest. He pulled on her arms, dragging her closer, arms sliding around her ribcage.

His mouth was hot, spicy and tasted of whiskey and she had never tasted anything this good. His tongue teased hers and the kiss deepened into something more profound. She pulled back and stared at him. He leaned his forehead down to hers, "Let me try, Sara. I am not sure what you and I are, but let me try."

She pulled back, gently and retraced her steps to the kitchen. He followed after her and watched as she poured herself another glass of wine. She didn't look at him but downed the glass in one gulp. "I'm not leaving. I can't go back but I do know I want you to try."

He couldn't help himself, "Who was that guy? I should have asked if you were involved. I assumed a lot."

"Tom. We're colleagues." She said, wryly. "He might want more; I'm not sure about anything anymore."

"Sara, we both need time but I need you to know, I'll do what it takes this time."

She laughed softly, "This time, this time. Okay, we'll see what happens. No promises, no regrets. I love you, Grissom, but you know that right?"

He didn't answer her, nor did she expect one. This was something and she knew regardless of where they were going, she wanted to take the trip with him and only him. She didn't expect smooth sailing but at least for the first time he had, in his own way, confirmed how much he loved her in return.

"C'mon, Grissom." Taking his hand, she led him down the hall. They had a long way to go but like he had said, maybe they just needed to start trying.