Author's Notes: A thousand thanks for all the positive feedback;) Please keep reading with the same enthusiasm!
Someone Else's Star
by Kristen Elizabeth
Anyone must see at a glance that if men and women marry those whom they do not love, they must love those whom they do not marry. – Harriet Martineau
In the morning, Brass grudgingly mixed up a batch of pancakes, his all-purpose hangover cure. If there was any alcohol left in Grissom's system when he woke up, these double-batter babies would soak it right up.
He took no pains to be quiet as he moved about the kitchen, hoping that the noise would wake the man sleeping on his couch. To his great relief Grissom had not needed the trashcan he'd provided during the night. The man was his friend, but certain boundaries needed to remain between them.
Brass was plating up the pancakes when Grissom stirred. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and instantly grabbed his head.
"Aspirin's on the coffee table," Brass called out. "I'd take three."
He did, with the help of the glass of water that had been drawn for him. "Thanks," he muttered a moment later.
"Feel up to eating something?" When Grissom shook his head, wincing with each movement, Brass continued, "Yeah, that wasn't so much a question."
Because Grissom wasn't quite ready to stand, Brass brought him a plate and forced it into his hands along with a fork.
"These are horrible," Grissom said after the first couple of bites.
"Any resemblance I bear to Emeril Lagasse is purely coincidental." Brass paused as Grissom choked down another mouthful. "Feel up to talking?"
"I take it that's not a question either?"
Brass sat back in an overstuffed chair. "Consider it what you owe me for room and board for the night." Another pause. "Who told you about Sara?"
Grissom stared down at his plate. "Overheard it in the hallway. The downside to being a ghost is that sometimes people don't realize you're there. And so they just keep talking about their co-worker taking two weeks off for her honeymoon." He swallowed, but something seemed stuck in his throat. And it wasn't the pancakes. "Her honeymoon, Jim. She's married."
"So I heard." Curiosity overcame him. "Do you know the guy?"
It took him awhile given his current state, but eventually he outlined the basic history of Matt Wilson in relation to Sara. Jim listened with a raised eyebrow. When Grissom stopped, he had only one thing to say. "You realize that if you hadn't chickened out years ago, this guy wouldn't even be in the picture now."
He set his plate onto the coffee table. "'Chickened out' is hardly the right phrase."
"No, I think it works just fine. You as much as admitted it yourself awhile back." Grissom frowned. "C'mon, Gil. Debbie Marlin. Lurie's interrogation. I was there." He paused. "So was Sara."
Grissom nodded dully. "I know." He looked away from his friend's accusing glare. "I thought she'd give up on me if she heard…everything."
"Shit. She came for Lurie's confession, and got to hear your rejection instead." Brass shook his head. "No wonder she turned to the bottle." He sighed. "Well…water under the bridge now. Right?" He pointed to his plate. "You done?"
Instead of handing it over, Grissom went on, "What could I have given her, Jim?"
"Depends. What did she ask for?"
His voice was hardly more than a whisper. "A chance."
"There you go." Brass pried the plate out of his friend's hands. "I gotta be at the station in an hour. Can I trust you to lock up and get home on your own?"
He must have been feeling better because Grissom gave him a patented look.
When he left the house forty-five minutes later, his guest was still sitting on the couch. The television was tuned to the Discovery Channel. He was watching with glassy eyes.
"…this lizard roams the wilderness alone most of the year. As the shift in daylight hours and rising temperatures cue the shingleback skink that spring is here, it will seek its mate. The same pair of lizards end up together year after year, mating and sharing hideaways together, and then going their separate ways once the mating season is over…"
All Brass could do was shake his head. Gil Grissom. Brilliant scientist. Intuitive investigator.
Dumb shit.
"I hear congratulations are in order."
Sara's head shot up from her microscope. "What?"
Warrick smiled. Only Sara could get so involved in work that she'd actually forget she was getting ready to leave on her honeymoon. "Aren't you supposed to be out of here?"
"Tomorrow. I'm just finishing up."
He chose not press further. Sara's reasons for working during the day when everyone on their shift was at home sleeping were her business, not his. But there was a melancholy air about her that didn't fit a bride. Puzzled by this, Warrick entered the room.
"So, where are you going?"
She blinked. "Um…not sure." Yanking off her gloves suddenly, Sara sighed. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore." She rubbed her eyes with both hands. "Or even what case I'm on."
"I get that. Missed out on a lot of sleep myself during the first couple of weeks," Warrick grinned. "Eventually you settle into more of a…routine. My best advice, enjoy it while it lasts."
Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Time off should help, too."
"Sara..." He perched on the edge of her workstation. "Out of everyone, I probably understand the most why you did it this way and didn't tell anyone. I just want you to know that it's all good. Long as you're happy."
When she looked up at him, his trained eye caught a faint quiver in her lower lip. "Thanks."
Warrick dug into the pocket of his jeans. "I'm sorry it's not bigger or better wrapped. We didn't really have a lot of notice, but Tina and I both wanted to get you something…so here."
Sara took the rectangle of cardboard, instantly recognizing the logo. She unfolded it to reveal a one hundred dollar gift card to Bed, Bath and Beyond. Her hand trembled. "I can't accept this."
"Yeah, I know. It's not a store that screams Sara Sidle. But take it from this old, married man…having separate bathroom cups and soap dishes matters. I don't know why it matters, but you'll be grateful for them."
She shook her head. "No, you don't understand." Standing up, Sara strained her neck to whisper something in Warrick's ear.
When she pulled back, it was his turn to blink. "What happened?"
Sara sat back down and started talking.
Two days earlier
"Sidle-Wilson?"
The man, a notary public granted the authority to marry couples by the state rather than a higher being, looked bored. He hid a yawn behind his hand as Sara and Matt approached him.
Her heart thudded so hard she was sure the entire wedding chapel could hear it. An equally bored looking attendant thrust a well-used bouquet of flowers into her hands. Fake flowers.
"There's no greater power on this earth than the power of love." The man recited the words from memory, in a flat tone that indicated just how many times he'd done this. "When you find that love, it's up to you to recognize it, work for it, and cherish it. We're gathered here today to celebrate the joyous fact that…" He stopped to look down at his list. "…Sara and Matthew have done this. In the chaos of life, they have found each other."
She should have sat closer to the front. By the time she even gathered her pages and pages of notes together, a crowd had already formed around their lecturer. But she would not be dissuaded. She had questions that he hadn't had time to answer.
Using her elbows to push people aside, Sara fought her way through the crowd. But apparently everyone else was just as determined to speak to the man. She felt herself trip over something (or someone) and she went down. Her notes scattered and were trampled. On her knees, she frantically grabbed for pages.
"Is this yours?" Dr. Gil Grissom scanned her notes from behind wire rimmed glasses that perfectly framed a pair of cornflower blue eyes. "Hm. Interesting interpretation of my lecture."
Sara rose to her feet. They were almost the same height. A blush spread on her cheeks at having the renowned scientist read her notes. "They're just observations based on my own limited experience. I'm a rookie CSI out of San Francisco." She tucked her mangled notes under her arm and held out her hand. "Sara Sidle."
His hand was cool and dry. "Gil Grissom."
The crowd disappeared. Oh, they were still there, but she was suddenly, inexplicably unaware of anyone else but him. "I have a few questions, Doctor," she blurted out. "Could we maybe get a cup of coffee and talk?"
"Matt, do you take Sara to be your lawfully wedded wife until death do you part?"
Sara felt his warm gaze on her and she tried not to look away. "I do," Matt said firmly.
"And Sara, do you take Matt to be your lawfully wedded husband until death do you part?"
Silence fell over the chapel.
After a moment, Matt's look took on a distinct edge of worry. "Sara? Honey, what…?"
There was a stain on the petals of one of the flowers that made up her bouquet. It looked like coffee or tea. A cardboard Cupid shooting an arrow through a heart that read 'Be Mine' was thumb-tacked to the wall. She was in the same clothes she'd worn to work that day. The man who was marrying them hadn't shaved that morning. There were no friends or family to applaud their union. Her flowers were fake.
Matt wasn't the man she wanted to marry.
"Sara," the man tried again. "Do you take Matt to be your…"
"No." The bouquet fell to the floor as she raised her hand to her mouth. "Oh god, Matt. I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. I can't do this."
He shook his head back and forth. "No, Sara. Don't…you can't…not again."
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I know it doesn't mean much now…but up to this second, I had every intention of going through with it this time."
The chapel official cleared his throat. "If you kids need some time to work this out, could you step aside so's we can get to the people behind…" He went ignored.
Matt's eyes burned with unshed tears. "Why can't you? Why am I not enough for you?" The answer lay in the look she gave him. "He can't love you, Sara! He doesn't know how. You'll spend the rest of your life climbing stairs and he'll never let you reach him."
"Probably," Sara whispered. "But you mean too much to me...for me to lie to you every day of our life together. Because he'll always be here." She touched the center of her chest. "And you deserve someone who can give you all of her heart."
By this time, the people in the chapel, the official included, were completely engrossed in the scene. Only in Vegas.
"Please, Sara. Think this over. Don't do it." Matt's Adam's apple bobbed. "I miss you. I've missed you for six years. Your laugh…your voice…your scent. Without you, my life is empty."
A tear trickled down her cheek. "You'll find your someone, Matt. I know you will."
Matt looked at the cheap carpet for a long time. Finally, he lifted his head. "In another six years, when you're still waiting for him, will you marry me?"
Sara shook her head. She looked down at her hand and the ring he'd given her the first time around. "Do you want it back now?"
"No." He took a step away from her. "It was never mine to begin with."
Warrick was silent until she finished. Finally, after taking a few seconds to process it all, he spoke. "Well, at least Ecklie's true to form. He jumps to conclusions everywhere, not just on a case."
"The truth will come out eventually." Sara folded her arms over her chest. "I need some time away. I'm asking you…as a friend…please don't tell anyone before I get back. Let me be 'married' for awhile."
"Teaching someone a lesson?" Warrick nodded. "I'm on board. He could use a kick in the ass."
Sara handed him back his wedding gift. "Buy your wife something pretty. Dishes, maybe. The next dinner party can be on you."
"Yeah, picture that." Warrick slipped the card back into his pocket and reached for her, pulling her into a hug whether she liked the idea or not. "You know, I'm kinda glad it all turned out this way. I'd like to be there when you take the plunge, girl."
"Yeah," she murmured into his shoulder. "Picture that."
To Be Continued
A/N: Television excerpt from Dr. Kevin Wright, as written in his online column.