Author's Notes: Thanks for all the great feedback! I continue to be pleasantly surprised by your kindness and interest.
Someone Else's Star
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Fear not for the future; weep not for the past." - Percy Bysshe Shelley
It was like the phone call had never taken place.
Exactly as Sara had predicted, Grissom largely ignored her after his experiment in drunk dialing. It made her feel a whole lot less guilty about going out with Matt.
It was strange. Being with Matt after six years of separation felt more comfortable than the last month or so of their official relationship had.
She took him to the Bellagio fountains, the Venetian's canal, the shark aquarium at Monterey Bay. They pulled slots in the Palms and spun the roulette at the MGM Grand. He bought her a giant pretzel at a street vendor; she sprung for his chili dog.
And they talked. Really talked. Like they hadn't even when they were lovers. He was still funny and smart and kind. He shared things with her. He listened. And she didn't get the feeling he was analyzing her. That, she had to admit, was refreshing.
An entire evening passed without a single thought of Grissom.
When Matt dropped her off at her apartment, she kissed him. It was soft and chaste, nothing that she would think twice about giving Greg Sanders.
Matt didn't ask for anything more. Perhaps that was what prompted her press her lips to his in a way she never would with Greg. It took him a moment to return the second kiss, but when he did there was little doubt as to whether he appreciated the gesture.
"Old time's sake?" he asked when they broke apart.
Sara looked back and forth between his dark eyes. "I'm not sure."
Mat nodded. "Let me know when you are."
His words were still so much on her mind that she barely noticed when Grissom's obligatory withdrawal period ended and he started speaking to her again. She was in the layout room, case evidence spread out around her, but she probably couldn't have told anyone the name of the victim, or even the type of crime she was supposed to be investigating. She was too busy staring into space.
"Sara."
She blinked and focused on Grissom. He stood in the doorway, a file tucked underneath his arm. Figuring whatever he had to say was of some importance if he broke his silent treatment in order to come to her with it, she waited for him to go on.
"When did you start regretting that you came here?"
The speed with which her answer came surprised her. "Probably not long after you started regretting asking me."
Grissom stared at her. "That's never happened."
Sara pushed away from the table and folded her arms across her chest. "No lies, Grissom. I've told enough to know the difference."
"Sara…" He paused, like he always did when he needed an extra moment to collect himself. "You don't understand."
She gave him ample time to finish thought. Her heart cracked a little more when he couldn't. "Yeah. I do." Sara stood up. "The best I can figure, it started when you realized…you couldn't control me like you wanted to."
"Control you."
"Please don't say that like it's a completely foreign concept. In the entire time we've known each other, you've been in control. I never emailed you when I was in San Francisco; I waited until you emailed me. You asked me to come, you asked me to stay, you decided when it was okay for us to flirt, and when it wasn't. You called the shots, Grissom. And when I stepped out on my own…found someone who would take me out or tried to make a change in our relationship…admit it. You found yourself wishing you'd just let me go back to California."
Instead of replying to any of what she'd said, Grissom pulled the file out from under his arm. "I've wanted you to have this for a long time. It just never seemed like the right moment to give it to you. I guess now…well…what does matter?" He walked over and handed her the file.
"What is it?" Sara asked as she warily took it from him.
"The past," he replied. "The only thing I can't change."
She waited to satisfy her curiosity until she was surrounded by the silence of her apartment. After arming herself with a beer, Sara tucked up in a corner of her sofa and opened the file.
On the top of a neat stack of printed pages was a Starbucks napkin. She lifted it up with trembling fingers. It was worn around the edges, but it still looked pretty much the same as it had on the day she'd used it to write down her email address.
Sara ran her thumb over the ink. He'd saved it. All these years, he'd saved that stupid coffeehouse napkin.
She set it aside before her grip could ruin it and turned her attention to the first page.
Grissom,
In addition to remembering your name, where we met, and that you have an extraordinarily boring taste in coffee, I am really glad to hear from you.
It's about damn time.
You asked about this, my final last semester. Hellacious is the first word that springs to mind. I feel like there are a million things left to learn and only a matter of weeks left in which to learn them. I've been offered a permanent position with the SFPD lab, so at least I have some job security upfront. Makes life just a little bit easier.
I hope you won't take another two months to write back. I'm pretty patient, but a girl's got her limits.
Sara
The next page was dated a week later.
Grissom,
I have no answer to the question you posed, so I'll take a page from your book and borrow someone else's words.
Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You, too? Thought I was the only one." - CS Lewis
What? You love playing guessing games with the dead, too? Thought I was the only one.
There. We're friends.
Sara
She quickly flipped ahead to about a third of the way through the stack.
Dear Grissom,
Remember my impatience with the robberies and assaults my supervisor has been sending me out on? I take all my whining back.
I'm in the middle of my first murder case. And it's not going well. No witnesses, very little physical evidence, and a five year-old boy who will grow up without a mother.
Tell me that it gets better when you solve it. Tell me you learn to live with yourself if you don't.
Sara
Two days later, another message.
Thank you.
Sara
She read over her words from so many years ago through a mist of tears. She'd written him with confidence, flirtation and hope. Couldn't he see that even back then, she'd been falling in more love with each email she sent?
Ten minutes ago, she would have answered her own question with a resounding "no." But now, it wasn't so easy. He'd printed out each and every one of her correspondences and saved them. Would anyone do that for someone they only cared about as a friend? She didn't save Greg's emails, although admittedly they were mostly dirty jokes.
For the first time in six years, Sara desperately wanted a cigarette. Instead of going out and buying a pack, she threw Grissom's file off her lap. Pages scattered like snowflakes.
"Damn you!" Sara yelled as if he could hear her across down. "God damn you!"
Every time she felt like she'd untangled herself from his hook, he reeled her back in.
To Be Continued