Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, PhDelicious. I really appreciate everyone who's reading this story, and I love that you have so many questions;) I hope all of them get answered to your satisfaction. Enjoy!
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The Last Embrace
by Kristen Elizabeth
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March 1998
"Gil, can I talk to you for a second?"
"Excuse me," Grissom said to the coroner to whom he'd been speaking. Under different circumstances, he might have just kept talking to the coroner. But the person pulling him away was his sponsor for the lecture series, the head of the San Francisco CSI unit, Dr. Mark Dillinger. "What can I do for you, Mark?"
Mark looked around the luncheon reception as if to make sure no one was within earshot. "I hear you met my rookie." When Grissom said nothing, he clarified, "Sara Sidle?"
Grissom took a sip of his watered down Scotch. "Yes, she attended my seminar on Monday. And we spoke at the reception afterwards."
"I heard you did more than that." Mark paused. "I heard you took her on a date."
"It wasn't a date," Grissom said. "We had coffee."
"Did you sleep with her?"
A moment passed. "I'm not sure who should be more insulted by that question, Mark. Me or her."
He crossed his arms. "I'm serious."
"I know." His eyebrow twitched. "That's why I can't decide."
"Look, Sara is a member of my team. She's probably the most promising Level 1 I have. But Jesus, Gil…she's not even out of her twenties. What were you thinking?"
His heart rate was on the rise. "I was thinking that times hadn't changed so much that a cup of coffee between members of the opposite sex who work in the same field could be construed as something indecent."
"Wake up. The president is getting his dick sucked in the Oval Office by an intern. Anything is possible." Mark lowered his voice. "Personally, I can see why you'd be tempted. She's an attractive girl. But for the sake of her career, not to mention your own, I'm telling you…don't go there."
Pointing at the bar with his glass, Grissom said, "I'm going to go refresh my drink. And then I'm going to finish my conversation with your coroner. And we're going to forget we had this little talk."
"It's not going to go away because you want it to, Gil. People are already talking."
"People always talk, Mark. Why do you think I spend so much time with bugs?"
As he walked away, Grissom had ten different curses on the tip of his tongue. Mark might have approached the whole thing badly…but he was closer to the truth than Grissom liked.
At the bar, while waiting for his drink, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded receipt. Two coffees at $1.09 each. And Sara Sidle's email address and mobile phone number.
With his own phone, Grissom dialed it slowly, almost praying she wouldn't answer, and he wouldn't have to do what he was about to do.
"Sidle."
"Sara. It's…it's Gil Grissom."
"That's so weird. I was just thinking about you." Why did he like that so much? "Are you stuck at the luncheon?"
He nodded, and then realized she couldn't see it. "Yes." He paused. "I'm calling because…my flight tomorrow was canceled. I had to rebook." Grissom hesitated again. "I could only get one out tonight."
"So, no dinner then." Her disappointment was palpable, but she did an admirable job of covering it. "It's okay. I understand. Maybe next time you're in town we'll make it work."
"Maybe."
They were both quiet for a moment. "I really enjoyed meeting you," Sara finally said. "And I hope we can keep in touch."
Grissom glanced across the room. Mark was watching him out of the corner of his eye. "I'd like that," he told her.
He could almost feel her smile through the phone. "Okay. Well…have a safe flight."
"Goodbye, Sara."
Grissom closed up his phone and reattached it to his belt. The bartender handed him his drink, and he downed it in several long swallows.
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She was late for work. Cassie hadn't gone down for the night; she was pushing up a new tooth and the pain kept her from doing much more than crying. Although 99 percent of her wanted to be at home, rocking her baby and trying to make her comfortable, there was that one tiny percent of Sara that was almost relieved to be at work. Where it was quiet.
After stowing her bag, Sara headed into the break room for a much needed cup of coffee, even if she could only have decaf. The smell would be enough to wake her up, she hoped.
As it turned out, she got an even bigger jolt in the form of Gil Grissom. He was reclining in a chair, working on the daily crossword puzzle. And suddenly, it was like the past two years had never happened.
"What are you doing here?"
He frowned at his newspaper. "Do you have any idea who Delta Burke played on Designing Women?"
Sara shook her head. "Are you taking a trip down memory lane, or are you here for a reason?"
"Seven letters. Ends in 'E'," Grissom mused.
"Please stop ignoring me. I hate when you do that."
Finally, he looked up at her. "I wanted to call to give you some warning. But it all happened so fast. I didn't have time."
"Warn me about what?"
Catherine sauntered into the room just then. "Oh, good," she sighed. "I missed the fireworks." She walked to the coffee pot, grabbed a mug and poured. "I realize it feels like it's too soon to replace Nick. But you know how swamped we are, Sara. I'm getting all kinds of pressure from Ecklie to lighten everyone's work load before a major mistake is made. I had to hire someone. And well…" She turned back around. "You can't say he won't be an asset to the team."
Sara blinked. Because it was the only thing she could do. "What?" she whispered.
"Thank you, Catherine." Grissom set his pencil on top of his puzzle and removed his glasses. "I actually hadn't gotten that far yet."
"Ah." She looked back and forth between them before settling an 'oops, my bad' look on him. As she walked past Sara on her way out the door, she paused to put a hand on her arm. "Assignments in ten minutes. I'll keep the guys busy until then."
Once she was gone, Sara started shaking her head. "What is this? Some kind of twisted time warp?"
"Sara, I didn't come to town with any idea that I'd be staying."
"So why are you?"
He leaned forward. "I'm needed here."
"And Tennessee is willing to give up their adjunct professor just like that?"
"My appointment was up for renewal going into summer term. I just won't renew it." Grissom looked up at her. "I enjoyed teaching. But I'd be lying if I said I found it as fulfilling as this." He indicated the whole lab with his hands. "I don't think I realized how much I missed it until I walked in the door tonight."
Sara's stomach felt queasy. "You're seriously going to come back and work under Catherine? You don't foresee a problem there?"
"I never had the constitution for administration. You know that." He stood up. "And you and I have never been on equal footing, Sara. Now…we will be. We're both just Level 3. Co-workers."
She searched his eyes, unsure of what she hoped to see there. Some sign that it might be a joke? All she saw was what she'd always seen. Bottomless blue. An ocean you could drown in without care.
"I'm pregnant." Grissom stared at her. "Three months," she went on, still staring into his eyes. "This one is Nick's without question. So if you're thinking that coming back means that we might be able to pick up where things ended two years ago…you're wrong. I loved my husband." Her voice wobbled. "I miss him. And you might be able to replace him here….but that's where it ends. Understand?"
He quietly slipped his hands into his pockets and closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds. "Yes. Congratulations."
"Thank you." Even though her tears had never fully materialized, she ran her hand under her eyes. "It's Suzanne, by the way." She pointed at the puzzle.
As he filled in the letters, Sara poured herself some coffee, and burned her tongue on her first sip.
Gil Grissom was back in her life. Whether she was ready for him or not.
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To Be Continued