JULY AND DECEMBER

Spoilers: Butterflied, Bloodlines

Angst alert! Drama, romance.

Third Chapter: JULY 2004

Grissom was on the bleachers, watching as the CSI day shift crew beat the hell out of the guys from his shift. He shook his head. Not for the first time today he wished he were younger, so he could be out there doing SOMETHING, instead of simply witnessing the carnage.

He was relieved when his phone rang. Maybe there was a break in one of his cases…or maybe someone had found a dead body somewhere; a nicely bloated dead body covered with maggots, so the cops asked for an Entomologist's immediate presence -

"Grissom." He answered promptly.

"It's me," Catherine said, "And before you ask, no, there's no need for you to come to the lab. I just wanted to know how the guys are doing-"

"Badly."

"You're not doing your job, then!" she chided, "You're supposed to give them a pep talk, Grissom!"

"I'm trying." He said, and then he added, "Maybe you could do a better job than me-"

"Oh, save it." She interrupted, "I'm not going anywhere near that park, Grissom. We agreed, remember? I'd cover for you today so I could have Friday off. I really want to do this for Lindsay, ok? Besides," she added, "this is your chance to get close to your friends in the PD, AND to celebrate like a good patriot-"

"Hey, I do my patriotic duty every day -" he scowled, "spending a whole day at the park is just a waste of my time-"

"Oh, just take it like a man." She said dryly, and hung up

Grissom sighed. He'd been taking it like a man since early in the morning and he was fed up.

He didn't like to socialize with his colleagues. Watching a game was all right, he had done it a couple of times in the last two years; but spending a whole day with members of the Police Department or Ecklie's people… that was harder to take.

And when he thought of all the things he could do on a free day… He wistfully thought of the Body Farm, waiting for him to unravel its secrets; he also thought of the ever-growing pile of books he had meant to read for a long, long time. Anything was better than attending the LVPD annual 4th of July picnic.

But as a CSI Supervisor he had a duty to his colleagues, and he had promised to be there for every competition. What he didn't know was that the picnic was really a day-long affair; they were giving everybody a chance to take part in it, no matter how early or how late their shifts ended.

Part of the problem for Grissom was that he felt out of place; he even looked out of place. He was wearing a roomy t-shirt and roomy jeans, just the right clothes for this event, or so he thought at first. After all, who would expect a science geek to look like a gym rat? Years ago, a geek was a geek in every aspect.

Not any more.

It turned out that even geeks worked out nowadays. He'd spent the day feeling self-conscious, and resisting everybody's pressure to take part in the sport competitions. No way was he going to make a fool of himself by running around like a headless chicken while people around him booed or cheered up.

He smiled. He had taken part in one competition: arm wrestling. He'd won, although Nick and Warrick's refusal to participate had probably helped.

He'd received his little trophy amid the cheers of his crew and boos from the rest, and after enduring this brief moment in the spotlight, he'd stepped away.

"Hey, Grissom," Ecklie called out from afar, interrupting his musings, "Your guys stink!"

Oh, really, thought Grissom.

After the game, Grissom went to the picnic area and sat down to eat. He kept glancing at his watch. Five o'clock. He'd leave at five-thirty, he decided; he'd been there long enough-

"Planning your escape, Gil?"

Grissom looked up. Brass was there, smiling knowingly. He had a hot dog in one hand and a soda can in the other. Grissom scowled.

"Why is it that I always get emergency calls when I'm off-shift, but none when I really need them?"

"Hey, beats me." He chuckled, sitting down beside his friend. "But if you miss the job, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about that corpse we found last night-"

Brass began to discuss one of their current cases, and Grissom listened attentively. Suddenly, there was an announcement shouted through the speakers.

"GET YOUR PARTNERS, BOYS AND GIRLS! LAS VEGAS POLICE DEPARTMENT IS PROUD TO INTRODUCE ITS OWN BAND, THE DANCING TRIGGERS!"

Uh, oh, Gil thought. Dancing.

Now he definitely had to leave.

"I think I better get going." he muttered, rising from his seat.

"You're just escaping before the dance starts." Brass chuckled, "Hey, I don't blame you. There's always some chick who thinks she can make Gil Grissom melt. Remember a few years ago, when that blonde cop kept following you?" he chuckled, "You looked like a deer about to be hit by a trailer-"

"That cop was drunk," Grissom said, "It wasn't her fault-"

"Look, don't leave just yet. At least let me tell you what the witness said-"

Grissom sat again and tried to listen, but his attention wandered.

He was looking for her.

It wasn't the first time he'd done it that day. He was definitely NOT keeping tabs on her; it's just that she was having fun, and he wanted to see every minute of it.

And he'd been lucky. All day long, he had instinctively known where to look in order to see Sara -even in the crowds. Or maybe it wasn't luck, but the fact that she simply was hard to miss. Tall and slender, pretty, so full of life…

There were moments when he had avoided looking at her -mostly, when she talked to other cops. But trying to ignore her only made him more aware of her actions.

And somehow, she had seemed to know that he was looking at her. Every time his gaze wandered in Sara's direction, she'd look up too. And every time their glances met, she'd waved and smiled.

Seeing that smile had made it worthwhile to be at the picnic. Sara had had a great time, she hadn't touched the beer, and she had won a race.

Grissom smiled faintly as he remembered her moment of triumph. Not only had she won the 200 Mt. race, she had defeated the day shift's best runner. Greg, Warrick and Nick had celebrated big time; Nick had even swept her off her feet, proclaiming her their heroine.

Grissom had watched all this from the bleachers, and that last little scene had been imprinted in his mind. She had laughed out loud as Nick twirled with her in his arms…

Grissom's attention was drawn back to the present as a new song begun. It was a fast version of an old song from Santana, something about a black magic woman. He looked at the clearing just beyond the picnic area, were several couples were clumsily dancing.

And there she was.

Sara was dancing with Warrick, who was anything but clumsy. Warrick smiled as he patiently taught her the steps, and she nervously followed his instructions – glancing down now and then, probably to avoid stepping on his feet. She was a quick learner, and by the time the song ended, she was dancing confidently.

She was a joy to watch.

Then the next song started, and it was a slow, romantic tune. Warrick reached for Sara's hand again, but before he took it, a female cop approached Warrick and asked him to dance.

Sara smiled good-naturedly and let him go. She watched the couples for a moment, and then all of a sudden, she turned and looked directly at the area where Grissom's table was.

He froze. She was at the farther end of the dancing area but he knew- he was sure that she was looking at him. And suddenly, he saw her move in his direction; slowly, but with determination.

Grissom felt his heart beat faster. She was coming his way; she was going to ask him to dance, he was sure of it-

What are you going to do?

Before he could answer his own question, he saw an EMT appear out of nowhere and cut into her path. Grissom knew this guy; he a had worked with Sara during a recent case, a multiple car collision.

He saw Sara smile as she recognized the guy.

Abruptly, Grissom rose from his seat.

"Hey, Brass?" he said, interrupting his friend, "Gotta go."

"Oh, ok." Brass said distractedly, watching his friend rise to leave, "Hey, can I have your fries?" he called out, but Grissom didn't turn.

Sara had tried to let down this guy as nicely as she could, but he didn't understand her hints soon enough. By the time she reached Grissom's table, he was nowhere in sight. She turned to Brass.

"Where's Grissom?"

"Gone." Brass said, pointing at a spot behind him in the woods.

"That's the hiking trail." She frowned.

"Hey, it was the closest trail." He shrugged.

Grissom's intention had been to go to the parking lot, but he had taken the wrong path. He closed his eyes, feeling foolish. Hiking was something he had meant to do many times, but he wasn't up to it today. Maybe next time he had a free day, he thought cynically. At that moment, all he wanted was to go home. He couldn't wait to put this damn day behind.

He was about to turn back when he heard footsteps. And a familiar voice.

"Grissom?"

Sara.

Grissom closed his eyes. He didn't want to see her right now. He needed time to compose himself before he could face her, but he was trapped. He took a deep breath.

By the time she appeared, he was casually leaning against a tree.

"Hey." She smiled when she saw him, "I thought you were going back to the lab."

"Not yet." He said.

She looked around curiously.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm-" I'm lost, he was going to say but stopped in time. "The crowd got to me," he said instead, "I needed some quiet time." Alone. He didn't say it, but it was implicit.

She didn't take the hint. She simply walked to him, slowly- Seductively, his mind added. There was a quiet determination about her that disturbed him. It was as if she had made some decision and nothing was going to make her change her mind.

He stared at her. She was wearing a tight, black t-shirt, jeans, and her trusty combat boots. Now that she was closer, he studied her face; devoid of make up, her freckles and little blemishes stood out in her pale skin. She looked young- too young.

Grissom crossed his arms, and Sara smiled faintly. She knew he was trying to protect himself. And yet, he had nothing to be afraid of. She was sure she could help him see that. She was about to say so when something shiny in his hand caught her attention. She smiled. He was still clutching his little trophy.

"Hey, you beat all those guys from the PD," she said, "You did great."

"So did you," he said gently.

"Yes," she admitted with a smile, "You helped, though. When I heard you cheering me on, I knew I had to do my best."

Grissom didn't comment. Yes, he had cheered her on, and he had applauded harder than anybody else. But she had helped him too. He'd never admit this, but when he was arm wrestling that last guy from the PD, her cheers had encouraged him to make an extra effort to win the match.

She took another step towards him. She was quietly invading his personal space, and Grissom knew he had to do something about it.

But he didn't move.

"I didn't know you were so strong." She said softly.

"Shouldn't you go back to the dance floor, Sara?" Grissom said quietly, "That EMT must be waiting."

It was the wrong thing to say, he immediately realized. Her eyes widened in surprise; she opened her mouth but she didn't say anything. She smiled instead.

Grissom lowered his gaze, but it was too late- she knew. He was jealous; she knew it and he knew that she knew.

Her smiled blossomed.

"Would you like to dance, Grissom?"

"No." He said, as if the thought amused him.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I don't dance" he said in a slightly patronizing tone.

"I could teach you." She offered. She tentatively put a hand on his arm and looked up expectantly. He gradually lost his smile. She was so close he could smell her scent. Apples. She smelled of apples and flowers. "It's easy," she said, gently tugging on his arm, "And you're a quick learner," She added, "Aren't you?"

Enthralled by her determination, she let her uncross his arms.

"You only have to put your right arm around me," she explained, as she positioned him for dancing, "And then you take my hand in yours-"

"Sara-"

"-and we press our cheeks together-"

He pulled slightly back to look at her.

"Sara." he said more firmly.

"Yes, Gil?" she asked.

She had never called him by his first name, and he couldn't believe the effect it had on him.

"This is a bad idea." He said, slowly releasing her. He would have stepped away, but she had practically trapped him against the tree.

"It's all right, Gil." She said patiently. "It is, really." She smiled encouragingly, "All day I've felt something going on… Something like a connection between us. Didn't you feel it too?" she looked earnestly into his eyes, "Everything we did today has led us to this moment, and I... I don't want to let it go." she said softly, "I want to do something about it… Something nice, like dancing. Or talking, or simply staying toge-"

"I don't want to dance, Sara." He interrupted.

She cocked her head curiously.

"What do you want, then?"

"I don't want anything." He frowned.

"Liar." She said curtly.

"Excuse me?" he frowned.

Sara smiled faintly. She had chosen the perfect word to rattle him. She took a deep breath.

"You're lying." She said, firmly, "You want things; you're just afraid of reaching out for them." She waited for these words to sink in, "I know, Gil. I -I heard you." She added, a little afraid of the effect that her next words might have on him, "You said you'd never really lived and that you'd let your job consume you-"

Grissom frowned as if he couldn't place those words, and Sara finished.

"You said that the only people you ever touched were the dead bodies at the Morgue-"

He looked up.

"You were there-" he said more to himself than to her.

"Yes."

"You weren't supposed to be there." He said incredulously, "You shouldn't have listened-"

"But I did." She replied, "And I'm glad," she said, "Because I can do something about it. I mean- We can't go on like this, Grissom. We've been wasting our time, and I don't want to do that anymore." she cautiously reached out until she touched his face. "I'm alive," She said softly, "And you can touch me."

He stared at her. Her hand felt warm on his face…He resisted the urge to lean into her touch.

"It's not so simple-" he said calmly.

"It is, if you want." She said quietly. She rubbed his cheek, smiling encouragingly.

"Sara…" he started. He took a deep breath, "What I said that day... Maybe I do regret the things that I never had or never did, but it's ok. My life is settled. You, on the other hand-" He paused. "You want love and companionship, and that's fine. Go out there and find it," he said glancing towards the picnic area.

"I've already found it," she said meaningfully.

"Sara," he hesitated, "You know how I feel about this. I… I'll never -" he struggled to find the words; "I have nothing to offer you. You should find someone who's willing to open his heart to you-" He looked at her, "I can't do that."

"Then I'll open my heart to you-" She said, and she kissed him softly on the lips. She pulled back, just enough to assess his reaction. He was staring at her, wide eyed, and utterly shocked at what she had just done. They had kept each other at arm's length for years, and now all of a sudden she was taking her interest in him a step further.

Before he could say anything, she put her hands on both sides of his face and gently pressed her lips on his again; and then...

He froze when her lips opened for a passionate kiss. She'd never been this bold; she'd never done anything, not really. Sure, she had disturbed his orderly world before, but only with words. This… This was too much. Suddenly all he was aware of were her mouth and her body pressed against his, and her hands, warm and soft on his neck.

She was doing all the things he had barely dared to dream of, much less act upon… He couldn't resist. He leant into her embrace, letting those dreams take over reality.

For a few seconds, his imagination took him beyond this park. Suddenly he saw both of them entwined under a crisp sheet, selflessly giving and receiving everything; oh, and kissing. He was sure he'd never be able to look at Sara's mouth without wanting to kiss her. Or look at her without wanting her. He wanted to surrender to the sweet heat of her body, and he wanted to do anything she asked- He'd give it all, and then-

He was losing control, and the realization hit him hard. He turned his face away, abruptly ending the kiss. Sara didn't mind; she simply leant breathlessly against him, her hands tenderly caressing his face.

Grissom closed his eyes. His life was in his hands at that moment, and he could simply hand it over to Sara, or he could hold back.

Dreams were beautiful, but they don't last.

Grissom opened his eyes. After a moment, he slowly grasped her hands away and held them together in his.

"Gil?" she asked softly.

He looked at her, avoiding the sight of her reddish lips.

"I can't do this."

"What?"

She tried to touch his face, but he held her wrists securely.

"Grissom-"

"I told you." He said, looking at her, "I don't want anything. I wanted this once; a long time ago," he admitted, "Just not anymore."

She opened her mouth but no words came.

She tried again.

"You have feelings for me." She said at last. "You know you do."

Grissom shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. I just can't do this."

"Grissom-" She whispered. "If you're afraid- I understand; I'm afraid too. But I love-"

He scoffed softly, effectively interrupting her.

"Sara," he sighed tiredly, "Do you think love changes things for the better?" he asked. "Do you think this is some sort of fairy-tale where love will suddenly transform me?" he lowered his voice, "Do you think I can make you happy? Sara, I can barely deal with my own troubles; I can't deal with yours too."

"I don't want you to deal with-"

"Do you think I can give you a home?" he challenged, "Or fill the void left by every male who's ever hurt you, starting with your dad?" He said brutally, "He was a mess, wasn't he? Do you think I can give you the home he never gave you?"

She flushed.

"That's- that's not what this is about," she stammered. She stared at him as if she were seeing him for the very first time in a long time, "Is this how you see me?" she demanded. "Do you think I need a substitute, or someone to save me?"

She vehemently shook her head, "I don't, Grissom. That's not what I need from you-" She paused, trying to calm down. She looked pleadingly at him, "Why can't you just take what I'm offering you?"

He looked at her.

"Because…" he started, "Because all I want from you is friendship." He said, "I've never asked anything else."

Her first impulse was to deny that, but when she looked for the evidence to support her words… she couldn't find any. All she could remember were the times he had rejected he advances.

Even a while ago, while they kissed… it wasn't what he wanted.

"You're right." she said finally, "You've never asked."

Grissom saw the hope and the love in her eyes die as she said this.

He braced himself for an angry outburst. He thought she would say something like 'fine' and stomp away; or that she would mutter 'see you around,' which was what she always said when he disappointed her.

She didn't do any of this.

To his surprise, she simply looked at him as if she were mourning some big loss. And it was then that he realized how much he had hurt her.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, "I just don't want to ruin what we have-"

"It's ok." She said, and she tried to pull away. He didn't let go of her wrists.

"Please, Sara; try to understand-"

"Let me go." She whispered, "I -I have to- I have-" the corners of her mouth turned down, as if she was going to cry. She recovered quickly, "I have work to do-"

She was barely holding it together and she knew that if she stayed any longer, she was going to cry or to plead… and she didn't want to do that. Neither did he. He let go of her, and he watched as she turned and walked away, fast -as fast as she could.

Sara managed to cross the picnic area without talking to anybody, but by the time she reached her car she was shaking so badly that she had a hard time trying to fit her car key into the slot.

Once inside her car, her first impulse was to get the hell out of there and drive home as fast as she could. She forced herself to wait. She couldn't drive like that. If she did, she'd probably end up smashing her car somewhere along the highway.

She grabbed the steering wheel and took several deep breaths trying to quiet down.

"Don't cry," she whispered, "Don't cry, don't cry-" She'd used those words as a mantra when she was a kid-

The thought reminded her of his words. 'Your dad was a mess'.

She started to cry, and she was angry at herself for being so weak; she'd never cried like this, not even when she was a kid. Nothing had affected little, skinny Sara Sidle; she was stoic, she was strong, she could take care of herself- But tonight her heart had been broken.

"Get a hold of yourself." She whispered after a while. "Get a hold of yourself."

She took a deep, shaky breath. "You'll be ok," she said aloud, and she hated the way she sounded; like a hurt little kid. "You'll be ok."

Crying had helped. Her hands weren't shaking anymore; her eyes hurt a little, but she was sure she could drive. She needed to go home, and she was going to do it safely. She had always taken care of herself. She didn't need anyone.

TBC

Note:

Thank you for reading! Thank you for reviewing!

By the way…I'm writing two endings for this story, a happy one, and a very unhappy one, (because I think Grissom should face the consequences of his acts).

TBC