Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta;) And big hugs to everyone reading this.
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The Last Embrace
by Kristen Elizabeth
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October 2006
"So, are you ever gonna tell me who you've been seeing?"
Sara swallowed too fast. The bubbles from the beer invaded the back of her throat, sending her into a minute long coughing spree. Nick laughed and gently slapped her back a few times until she could speak. "What makes you think I'm seeing someone?" she wheezed.
"Just a feeling I get." He took a sip of his own beer, his third if they were keeping tabs. "We haven't gotten together on our nights off in a long time. I figured you've been otherwise indisposed. So…who is he?"
Still clearing her throat, she took a moment to consider her answer. In the end, she settled on the time-honored tradition of avoiding the question. "Don't tell me you've missed me, Nicky," Sara said, giving his arm a playful push.
Instead of laughing or returning the gesture, Nick was suddenly quiet. "Really. What's his name?" When she looked away, he pressed on. "You are seeing someone, right?"
Because she was on her third beer as well, she lifted her shoulders as she tucked her feet up under her on the couch. "Not officially."
"How does that work?"
Sara picked at the label on her bottle. "Just like it sounds."
"Okay." Nick sipped and thought. "So, who are you unofficially seeing?"
She shook her head, smiling. "What's with the third degree about my love life?"
"I don't know. It's just…" He paused. "You were really happy for awhile. And lately…you've been sad again. I kinda want to know the name of the guy who's messing with my friend's heart."
The living room of her apartment was suddenly very quiet. So much so that she was afraid Nick might be able to hear how fast that heart of hers was beating. Say what you wanted to about him, but he had some damn good instincts.
She was unhappy. Grissom was in New Orleans again. He was supposed to have called her two hours earlier. Her phone had yet to ring. In fact, one of the main reasons she'd invited Nick over for a few beers was to distract her, and keep her from calling him like some nagging housewife. She had her pride, after all.
"No one's messing with my heart," she said softly.
"Good." His arm had been lying across the back of the sofa. Now he lifted it, and smoothed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Because I really want to kiss you right now, Sara."
She must have gone into shock. It was the only explanation as to why, when he leaned over and touched his lips to hers, she didn't stop him. When he covered her body with his, she didn't stop him. When the kiss grew deeper, and she could taste the beer on his tongue, she didn't stop him.
But when his fingers slipped underneath the hem of her shirt, Sara turned away from the kiss with a gasp for air. "Nick! I can't!"
He pulled back fast. "Oh god, Sara! I'm sorry. I thought…"
She shook her head rapidly, struggling to get out from underneath him. "I have to…go. I need to…" She stood up on shaky legs. "I'll be back."
Sara retreated to her bedroom, shutting the door before slumping back against it. Feeling like Hester Prynne, Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary, she put a hand to her mouth.
It had been so different. Where Grissom was comfortable flesh, Nick was hard muscle and sinew. Grissom let her initiate, let her take control. Nick had kissed her like a starving man. God forgive her…she hadn't hated it.
This was not irreparable damage, she told herself. It was a careless moment between old friends who'd had too much to drink, and were both probably a little lonely. Grissom didn't ever need to know.
Still, she found herself dialing his cell phone a moment later. He didn't need to know, but she needed to hear his voice.
It rang twice. Sara was about to hang up, unwilling to leave a voice message in her currently unstable condition. But then, someone answered.
"Dr. Grissom's phone."
The voice was young. Feminine. With a distinct southern accent. Sara glanced at the clock. It was after eleven p.m. in Las Vegas, making it past one in New Orleans. And…he wasn't alone.
"Where is he?" Sara blurted out, her mind already racing to places she didn't really want to go.
"I'm sorry. He's sort of asleep right now."
Her stomach lurched. "Who is this?" she whispered.
"I'm Reese. I'm one of his students. Who is this?" She paused, like she was checking the phone. "Sara? Are you the Sara he works with? 'Cause if this is about a case or something, I can totally wake him up."
"It's not about anything," she heard herself reply. Bile rose in the back of her throat. "Apparently."
"Okay. Well, if you want, I'll give him a message when he…"
Sara hung up the phone. She stared at it for what seemed like a lifetime.
She'd speculated for weeks. Considered the possibilities. Worried that she was jumping to conclusions. And ultimately decided that she trusted him. She'd even berated herself for her doubts. She loved him. He was enough for her. Surely…she was enough for him. Right?
"What fools these mortals be," she murmured as the first and only tear slid down her cheek.
How dare he make her so happy…only to turn around and strip every bit of it away? And for what? A younger woman.
Well…he was nothing if not consistent.
There was a knock on her bedroom door. "Sara?" When she didn't reply, the doorknob twisted. Nick pushed it open a crack. "Are you okay?" He sighed. "I am so sorry. I swear I don't know what came over me. Okay…that's a lie. I know what came over me." He opened the door a bit further. "Can we talk about this?"
She stood up and walked to the door, yanking it open all the way. There was worry written across Nick's face. But there was no trace of regret.
"Why did you kiss me?" she demanded.
"Because…I had three beers on an empty stomach?"
Her brow wrinkled. "Is that all?"
Nick shook his head. "No. Sara…" He smiled tenderly. "You're one in a million. Any guy who wouldn't kiss you when he's stone sober is an idiot."
A smile touched her lips. She couldn't believe it…but she was smiling. "Really?"
"Really. And I have to tell you, lately it's been all I can do to pretend that you're just a friend, like Warrick or…"
He was cut off by Sara grabbing his shirt and pulling him into the bedroom. Their mouths met and melded.
When she felt the bed against the back of her knees, she briefly wondered if Grissom had thought about her when he was with Reese. But a moment later, his face vanished. He'd made his choice.
Now she was making hers.
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Laura tried not to show her surprise when Sara invited Grissom over for dinner. But she couldn't help asking one or two questions as she peeled potatoes.
"Is Cassie invited to all of this, or should I get her ready for bed early?"
Sara was slicing vegetables into neat strips for a casserole. "I'm waiting to see how long she naps."
"Has he ever met her?"
Her daughter paused with her knife halfway through a zucchini. "He left town before she was born."
Laura nodded, reaching for the next potato. "And he has no idea she could be his?"
"I really don't want to get into this," Sara said with a trace of exasperation. After a moment had passed, she sighed. "Sorry. I'm…edgy."
"Just one more question then. Why on earth did you invite him over?" Her daughter said nothing, but the speed with which she cut the vegetables tripled. "Sara, if you still have feelings for him…"
"I don't know what I have or don't have," she burst out. "He makes everything complicated. With Nick, I always knew where I stood and where he stood." She hacked into a carrot. "I waited my whole life for something that stable."
"When you found it…" Laura pretended to be very interested in her peeler. "…were you happy?"
Sara never got to answer. Her knife slipped and she sliced open the tip of her finger.
She ended up greeting Grissom at the door two hours later with a large bandage swaddling the injured digit.
"What happened?" he asked with a worried frown.
"Just a reminder of why I don't cook." Sara took the bottle of wine he held out. "Thanks. Um…come in."
When the doorbell had rung signaling their guest's arrival, Laura had stationed herself in the living room. Cassie was on the rug, happily stacking wooden blocks and babbling a little song to herself. Laura heard the exchange at the front door, and with bated breath, waited for the scene to unfold.
Sara led Grissom into the living room. "I'd introduce the two of you," she said dryly. "But I understand you've already met."
Grissom held out his hand to Laura. "Nice to see you again."
She took it like she imagined Jackie Collins would. Smoothly, but coolly. "You, too."
While this was happening, Sara put the wine on the coffee table, bent down and picked up Cassie. "This one, however, you haven't met."
He looked at the little girl, who had transitioned from playing with her blocks, to playing with her mother's necklace. "No. I haven't." His smile seemed tight and forced. "She's beautiful, Sara."
She nodded. "Yeah." In the kitchen, a timer went off. "That's dinner." Sara handed Cassie to Laura. "I'll be right back."
Left alone with Gil Grissom, Laura cleared her throat. "Well. Thank you for the wine." He nodded, but she noticed that his eyes never wavered from her granddaughter. "It's amazing how much she looks like Sara, isn't it?"
"It is," he agreed.
"Those big, brown eyes. I tell you…they got me thirty-seven years ago, and they've got me again."
He sat down on the loveseat. "I see a lot of Nick, too."
"I keep hoping to meet the person in Nick's family who gave her those fabulous curls. I mean, I know they didn't come from our side. Sara's blessed with waves on a good day, but nothing like that." She gestured at her granddaughter. "She's going to break hearts someday with that mane. That and the dimple in her chin."
What she didn't add, and probably should have, was that Sara's father had one just like it.
Sara came back into the living room. "Dinner's ready. Can you bring her in?" she asked Laura.
"Sure." Laura swung her granddaughter onto her hip. "Come on, sweetheart."
She paused at the entrance to the dining room and glanced back at them. Grissom was still seated, apparently frozen to the spot. When Sara called his name, he looked up at her, stunned, confused…and maybe a little awed.
It was then Laura noticed that even though he kept it short, Gil Grissom's hair was decidedly curly. If she hadn't been holding Cassie, who had recently started repeating words, she would have cursed out loud.
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To Be Continued
A/N: Obviously, this story has now become an AU, with the advent of the new season. I hope you'll stick around, regardless!