Author's Notes: I'm so glad people seem to like this story! 'Cause it's certainly flowing out of my brain right now. Don't worry, though; I haven't abandoned my other WIP. But today is my birthday, so I'll post what I want to;) Hope you enjoy, and thanks again!
Someone Else's Star
by Kristen Elizabeth
The greatest obstacle to discovery is not ignorance; it is the illusion of knowledge. – Daniel Boorstein
Warrick entered the locker room as Sara was slicking her wet hair back into a ponytail. "Hey," he greeted her. "Did you hear you've got a visitor?"
"I'm on my way, thanks." She closed her locker door. "Listen, I was thinking about maybe having a few people over to my place for dinner one night. Would you and Tina be interested?"
"A dinner party? Very Martha Stewart of you," he teased, stripping off his vest. "We're in."
Sara smiled. "Great."
"You do realize that you will be mocked for this," Warrick told her. "Possibly until you retire."
"I'm aware," she called out as she left the locker room, heading for the lobby.
She was feeling pretty good. Life, which had seemed so against her for so long, was starting to be fun again. Or maybe it always had been and she just hadn't seen it, being too caught up in self-pity over things she couldn't control.
But she wasn't playing that game anymore. She was healthy, she had good friends and her job still fascinated her. There were millions of people in the world who couldn't say the same. Eventually, you had to count your blessings and realize that having it all was just a pipe dream.
Greg stepped out of trace just as she walked by. "Greg," she flagged him down. "How do you feel about dinner parties?"
"Little too Queer Eye, even for this guy," he replied with a lop-sided grin.
"I'm hosting. All you have to do is show up. Just wear a nice shirt." And because he was Greg and might take her literally, she added, "And pants."
"Boxers optional, got it." Greg nodded. "Just let me know when."
Sara continued on her way to the lobby, all the while debating with herself over placating her guests and serving meat, or taking the opportunity to introduce them to the limitless possibilities of tofu.
It was funny, the stupid things you were thinking right before your entire world changed.
"Sara."
His voice came crashing back upon her, one drop of water in a tidal wave of memories. Six years. Had it really been six years?
"Matt…" Sara was surprised she could even make her tongue work in order to say his name. "You're here…you're in…why?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I mean…it's just been…"
"Six years Almost seven." He folded his arms over his chest. "I know."
Before Sara could even begin to get over the shock of seeing him, she noticed the man standing next to him. "Grissom?"
She had seen that look on his face once before, in the layout room after her relationship with Hank had been callously disclosed by his mentor. She didn't like it then, and she liked it even less now.
"The man's come all the way from San Francisco to see you, Sara." Grissom's words were too quiet, too even. "The least you could do is say 'hello'." He turned to the younger man and held out his hand. "Enjoy your stay in Vegas."
Matt shook it firmly. "Thanks. It's nice to finally put a face to the name, Gil."
Grissom looked back at Sara. "Sorry I couldn't do the same, Matt."
"Grissom, wait…" But he was already walking away and showed no signs of turning around. Frustrated, confused and a tad overwhelmed, Sara looked back at Matt with accusation in her eyes. "You told him everything, I guess? And just how much did you enjoy that?"
"Do you really want to have this conversation here?" he spread his arms, indicating the lobby and the people who were watching.
Her shoulders slumped a bit. "There's a diner at the end of the block. I'll meet you there in ten minutes."
Three empty beakers and one bottle of magnesium sulfate lay in ruins before Grissom stopped himself, and even then he only did so because the next item on the shelf was hydrochloric acid. Gripping the side of his desk, he drew in and released several deep breaths.
They didn't help.
For six years, he'd lived in blissful ignorance of Sara's life before she came to Las Vegas. It was very easy to assume that she'd lived then much like she did now. And he liked that. It was selfish and juvenile and, frankly, cruel, but it had made him feel better to imagine her sitting alone in her apartment in San Francisco, waiting for his emails. She wasn't supposed to have been…
"Did the beakers have it coming?" He glanced up as Catherine entered his office and followed the trail of broken glass until she reached him.
He straightened up. "What do you need, Catherine?"
Her eyebrows shot up. "Just dropping off my request for vacation time. I'm taking Lindsey to…"
"Leave it on my desk," Grissom cut her off.
Catherine carefully placed the form on top of the shortest stack of papers and backed up, her eyes never leaving him like he was a wounded lion, and she was a passing gazelle.
She paused at the door and looked back. "Gil, would you even tell me if I asked?"
His reply was terse. "Odds aren't good."
"Right."
When she was gone, Grissom pulled off his glasses and ran the back of his hand across his forehead. After six years of calling the shots in his relationship with Sara, control had suddenly been ripped away from him. Everything he thought he knew for certain was now suspect. And much like bad Chinese food, it wasn't settling well.
He'd picked a back corner of the diner, and he'd gone ahead and ordered her a cup of coffee.
"I tried to get a seat in the smoking section, but we would've had to wait," Matt told her as she slid in across from him.
"I quit." Sara pushed away the coffee he gestured at. "Matt…I don't even know where to begin."
Adding cream to his own cup, he smiled wryly. "You look really good, Sara."
"I look like hell and you know it." Her anger faded quickly. "But thank you for the lie," she whispered.
Their eyes met over the rim of his mug. "How about we pick up right there?" Matt suggested.
Sara leaned back against the hard plastic seat and closed her eyes for a brief moment. "It's as good a place as any."
To Be Continued