Summary: How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words 'Be careful what you wish for,' prove to be true.

Timeline: Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye, and Pirates of the Third Reich.

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

A/N: Sincere thanks to csishewolf, brandie, dirtyvirgin, and csinut214 for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…BWAHahahahaha. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.


CHAPTER THREE

Rubble was all that remained of the large veggie supreme pizza they ordered. Eating gave them a much needed break from a very intense experience. They even managed to chat like they had years ago, the conversation drifting from topic to topic in an easy rhythm both had missed.

Grissom got up from the table to clear away the remains of their meal. Sara went back over to the love seat and faced the remaining stack of journals poised there on the coffee table. Her expression was bleak. She realized this was what she'd come for, but she'd had no idea learning the intimate details of Grissom's past would be as hard for her as it was for him. She did not want to hear about Grissom being in love with another woman; a woman he managed to have an actual relationship with instead of whatever it was they were doing. He said it was over – she believed that. What she couldn't get past was how open he must have been with Halyn and how bitter it was that he'd let someone else in but not her. Why not her?

Recognizing the stress in her face, he said, "Sara, you know this isn't about her, don't you? It's about me and decisions I made a long time ago."

Words didn't come right away so she just nodded that she understood, though anyone could see the doubt in her eyes. "Oh, Sara. Don't compare yourself to Halyn. And there's nothing wrong with you."

That truth brought tears to her eyes. She tried to hide them by looking at the floor, silently damning him for suddenly having such insight now. Where was it months ago when he was leaving her after loving her, breaking her heart every damn time he pulled away?

Grissom felt sick. He was trying to fix the mess he'd made. He wanted to fix it. What he didn't want was to hurt Sara anymore. "Do you want to stop this?" he asked.

Shaking her head, Sara quickly rubbed her eyes and said, "No. I'm good. It's OK."

He took her hand as he sat next to her on the loveseat. "Sara…I…"

"Really, Griss, I'm fine," she said, meaning even if she didn't look like it.

She felt a gentle tugging on her hand which made her look over at him. "I have never shared this much about myself with anyone, not even Halyn. She never knew I kept journals. As much as she meant to me, I never showed her this part of myself. Do you understand?"

The part of her struggling not to compete with Halyn…and failing so miserably…finally got it. No need to worry about a rival in virgin territory. "I do, Grissom…I do understand."

Leaning forward slightly, he picked up the next journal from the stack. It was a large, black, cloth bound book with papers sticking out of the edges. "This one is from 1977-78, my senior year at college and my first year of grad school." As he opened the cover several black and white photographs fell onto the couch between them. Sara picked them up and glanced at Grissom. "May I?" She shuffled through them when he nodded yes.

The first was an architectural shot from an unusual angle. It was a tall building with chamfered corners. The shot was taken looking up one corner from the ground at an extreme angle; the effect made the structure look like it went on forever.

The next was of a small blond haired boy with curly hair, wearing only white cotton underpants and cowboy boots, glued to a tricycle and barreling toward the viewer. The look on his face was a combination of complete concentration and glee.

Next was a group of storm pictures. Storm clouds over the ocean from the vantage of a beach, stroke after stroke of lightning breaking from the clouds and falling toward the sea. Thunderheads perched on a mountaintop, spears of lightning reaching out in all directions. Backlit black clouds crouching ominously over a glittering city at night, one bolt of lightning extending its finger to the tallest building.

Finally there were extreme close-ups of insects, some in situ and others on unusual surfaces like newsprint or brightly colored wrapping paper. Many were of butterflies – exquisite portraits in all kinds of light, on flowers and leaves, and one on a young entomologist's shoulder.

"Look at you! How old were you here?" Sara beamed, for the picture was a priceless window into a young and grinning Grissom, eyes glued to the winged creature resting on his shirt.

"Twenty-one…no, twenty-two. That was taken in late summer of 1978," Grissom said, smiling at his younger self.

"These are beautiful, Griss. Did you take all these…well, except this one," she said, tapping the portrait still in her hand. "I can't get over all this curly hair," she said, looking over at him with a grin.

"Yeah, I wore it longer then. No, I didn't take these. Halyn did. She had a wonderful eye."

Shuffling back through the stack, she pulled out the one of the little boy, "Is this her son? This is a great image."

Grissom took the photo from her, remembering. "Yes, this is Jeffrey. He was four, I think…a real spitfire. This picture really captures that…it's why I kept it."

Sara asked carefully, "Do you have any pictures of her?"

He looked at her for a moment then took a journal from the middle of the stack in front of them. Fanning the pages, the book opened to a photograph stuck inside near the middle. It was small, 3x5, of a smiling couple: Grissom and Halyn. She was exactly as he'd described her. Long wavy hair, glasses, not particularly pretty though she did have a nice smile. The picture said a lot. Even though the couple was smiling and standing close, they were not touching and her smile did not light her eyes the way his did. If one looked closely, it was clear something was not quite right between them.

After examining the picture for several minutes, Sara asked, "What happened?"

Taking the snapshot from her, he slipped it back in place and picked up the book that had held the loose photographs. Opening it about midway, he indicated a marked section, "Read."

>>>>>

Saturday, May 7, 1977 – Had a long talk with Halyn this morning when she stopped by after her gig. Hank is giving her trouble about custody, so she's worried about that. They have a court date in June. Living at home is not working very well. The fights are epic, she says, and I can believe it, knowing her mother.

Halyn calls me her island of peace. I try to comfort her, but I can't fix anything. I'm not in a position to get her out; I'm struggling to make tuition and expenses as it is, even with work at the Coroner's office. She tells me that's not the answer anyway; she has to work this out for herself. It's hard to see her like this, especially when she looks at me that way and says she's just numb. It's like biting on tinfoil, so at odds with what I usually see in her.

>>>>>

Wednesday, May 18, 1977 – Halyn has gotten that job she wanted at Wylie Labs. It'll mean more money, so she'll be able to get out on her own again. She wants to put Jeffrey in daycare, too, to get him away from her mother. That really isn't working out. The sooner she can make the break there, the better.

>>>>>

Thursday, June 2, 1977 – Went out storm chasing with Halyn again this morning. She called me at midnight, telling me there was a great storm forming off the coast. I picked her up and we spent hours on the beach doing time lapse images of the lightning. The wind was blowing the tripod around until we buried the legs about a foot in the sand. Then we sat there, watching the gathering storm and light show.

I keep forgetting how startling she is. Just as I am comfortable with my routine, she'll come up with some new idea she has to explore right that minute, then we are off and running. It is always worth it, these places she takes me.

Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand –Neil Armstrong

>>>>>

Tuesday, June 6, 1977 – Halyn won custody of Jeffrey today. She's happier than I've seen her in months.

>>>>>

Saturday, July 16, 1977 – In celebration of Halyn's new apartment, I took her to Disneyland to do Space Mountain. She's been wanting to go since it opened in May, and of course, the place was mobbed on a Saturday, but the ride was great. Even with the crowds and the long waits in line, we got to go 7 times. A new record for us on a single ride.

Being inside was different, but still a rush. Halyn prefers wood over steel, so we're doing wood next. Going to Belmont Park next weekend for the Giant Dipper and maybe Queens Park in two weeks for the Wild Maus. Only two parks left on the list after that.

>>>>>

Sara handed Grissom the book with a grin, "Halyn liked roller coasters?"

"Oh yeah, she got me started. One day she mentioned the Apache Whirlwind at Frontier Village, and how we should go. Then Space Mountain opened and she really wanted to do that. I thought it was kid stuff. I don't think I'd been to an amusement park since I was eight years old.

"When I didn't show any enthusiasm about roller coaster riding, she dragged me to Magic Mountain to ride the Revolution. It was thrilling. I started looking up amusement parks we could try. There were eight in California with big coasters that summer and we hit them all."

Picking up one of the photographs they'd talked about earlier, she asked, "Is this a photo from that night on the beach?" she asked.

"Yes. Every one of those images was the result of a similar trip. After dark, Halyn always had an ear cocked for thunder. One rumble and she was off, with me or without me," he said.

"You called her startling," Sara said, curious.

Grissom thought a moment and said, "She was startling. Her eyes were wide open, taking in everything. When she'd get an idea, there was no censor in her head…it just came out and she played with it until she was done."

Sara looked a little confused so Grissom thought a moment and said, "Do you know who Richard Feynman was?"

"The physicist? Of course," she said, perplexed.

"Have you read, Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman?"

Smiling, she said, "Yes, it's one of my favorite books…" Suddenly her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, I get it."

He nodded and smiled, acknowledging her understanding. "I had this incredible sense of déjà vu while I was reading that book. All questions were equal to him, whether it was about physics or ants or lucid dreaming. He approached them all with the same curiosity. That's the way Halyn was…

"I've always been curious about things, but I'm reserved by nature. Every time she would come up with something outrageous to do, the sober side would resist. But the curious side wanted to know where she was going so I learned to let my curiosity lead me," he said.

"You're still that way," she said.

He looked at her softly, "And so are you."

"Why the journals, Grissom?" she asked. "It's a little weird to walk around in your head like this."

Taking her hand, he said, "Sara, I'm trying to explain some of the choices I've made so that when I tell you I love you…that I treasure you…you'll believe me. So far my behavior hasn't shown that to you. I've hurt you instead."

Instantly tears filled her eyes, stinging with the truth. He had hurt her, over and over. She knew he was trying to repair the damage, but he was right: he was going to have to show her he loved her by somehow explaining all the pain he'd caused.

"I could have just told you this story. You'd never know how true it was, though. You'd have to take it on faith. I think I've used up all of those points with you. I'm hoping you'll think that, in my journals, I was being honest…or at least, as honest as I could be with myself. If I am to let you in, then I have to find a way to rebuild the trust I've broken. It occurred to me that I could do both by sharing these with you. Make sense?"

Sara nodded, "Yes, it does."

"Is it working?"

"I'm still listening, Griss."

Picking up the journal again and flipping forward a few pages, he said, "Fair enough."

>>>>>

Friday, September 9, 1977 – Don't know how I am going to fit it all in this year: TA for Dr. Edwards, research, work on the dis, work at the Coroner's office. Seems like I'm running everywhere.

Pick a theme and work it to exhaustion... the subject must be something you truly love or truly hate –Dorothea Lange

>>>>>

Sunday, September 18, 1977 – Went to Halyn's gig last night. I could tell she was a little put out that I fell asleep during the second set.

She wasn't much better – she's exhausted, too. She and the other techs from Wylie had done nothing but lay cable on Monday and Tuesday only to have the launch scrubbed at the last minute. Rather than pick up all that cable they put plastic bags around the joints so they could save time for the reschedule. It rained on Wednesday and when they went back to the site, all the bags were filled with water. They had to pick up the old cable and lay down new. Wonder if there is some sort of waterproof foam they could have used? Something like foam insulation that hardens as it cures?

>>>>>

Tuesday, October 11, 1977 – They imploded a building downtown tonight and Halyn talked me into going. She wanted to record the explosion and look at the subsonics. We managed to get very close to the safety perimeter. Talked to one of the crew, who explained how they set the charges in a daisy chain to safely implode the building in the middle of a city block.

Thank God my first class isn't until 11 o'clock.

>>>>>

Thursday, November 24, 1977 – Thanksgiving Day – Halyn and I are not doing Thanksgiving this year. I need some sleep. I've been out every night for the past two weeks at my body farm gathering data for the dis. That is going very well and I think my findings will settle some unanswered questions, but I am dead on my feet. I need 30 hour days.

I was unable to walk for a whole week after that, so much did the race take out of me. But it was the most pleasant exhaustion I have ever known –Emil Zatopek

>>>>>

Sara put down the journal and said, "So this is where you learned to work days at a time on no sleep and terrible coffee, huh?"

Chuckling, Grissom took the journal from her and said, "How do you know the coffee was terrible?"

"Who at the Lab even thought to bring his own coffee? Greg, not you. You didn't think of it because you're used to bad coffee," she said, grinning at her conclusion.

"Can't fault your logic," he laughed.

"What's the title of your dissertation?"

"Investigation of Nocturnal Oviposition by Necrophilous Flies in Coastal California," he recited.

"That's why you had to be out there at night."

"Yeah. Several species of flies are active day and night. I wanted to find out if they lay eggs at night as well as during the day. The only way to find that out is to watch. I had a series of pigs up at my body farm. I'd set up my camera and take pictures all night long."

"Did Halyn ever go with you?" she asked.

"As interested as she was in other aspects of forensics, it did not extend to vigils with entomologists and dead pigs. Unlike you…and you even brought good coffee."

She smiled, "You noticed."

He smiled in return, "Oh yes."

"Tell me about Halyn's job. You wrote that she worked for Wylie Labs?"

"Wylie was a contractor to NASA. They collected data from scientific balloons. Halyn's job as an audio tech was to run cable, set up antennae and record audio telemetry. She kind of fell into it from her job at the recording studio. Wylie needed people who knew that kind equipment inside and out, so they went to the recording industry for techs. Everybody she worked with had a music connection," he said.

"Sounds like an unusual job for a woman."

"It was. She was the only woman at Wylie then, but her knowledge of the equipment was so far superior to that of anyone else on staff, they were happy to have her. Laying cable was physically demanding, but there were enough men on her team to make up for her physical limitations."

Flipping to the end of the journal, Grissom handed it back to Sara. "Just one more entry in this one."

>>>>>

Sunday, September 17, 1978 – Halyn and I managed to get away for the weekend. This is the first time in a long time that we've had two days in a row to ourselves. We left Jeffrey with her mom and went to Magic Mountain to do the Revolution and the new Colossus.

I thought everything was fine until Sunday morning. I was talking about the future, after grad school and once I'm established…maybe saving for a house. She looked so sad and said, "You know I can't get married again, Gil." Of course, she's said that before, but I wasn't talking marriage or even living together… I was talking about a house. Everything seems good between us…has for a long time, but she's said off and on since the divorce that she fees numb. I guess I don't understand.

She insisted we go to Knott's Berry Farm to ride Montezooma's Revenge. We managed 10 rides. She's usually so happy on the roller coasters, but today she seemed…different. Driven somehow. Eventually she perked up and the rest of the evening was fine. I can't shake the feeling that I've missed something.

>>>>>

Sara thought for a moment as she put the journal on the coffee table and turned to Grissom. "Wow. That was out of the blue."

He met her questioning eyes. "That's how it seemed to me, too. I thought everything was good. I felt good. I was happy. How could anything be wrong?"

"What was going on?" she asked.

Grissom frowned and sat back on the couch. "I was so naïve, Sara. The young man I was then was not that much more emotionally mature than the teenager I was when I met Halyn. I had so little experience, I thought what we had was intimate…and it was for me, that is, it was as intimate as I knew how to be with another person. And I was so busy – I barely had time to breathe – that I didn't realize how limited our relationship was…."

He got up then and walked around the room. "When she said she felt numb, I had no idea what she was talking about. Numb to me was a physical sensation associated with lack of nerve conduction. I did try to understand, but her part in this was that she didn't really want to talk about it, so it would come up from time to time and pass away. The status quo remained."

"Sounds like trouble," Sara said thoughtfully.

Grissom went back to the couch and picked up another journal. "It was," he said. Flipping to the first marked section, he passed her the book.


To Be Continued... Chapters 4, 5, and 6 to follow shortly