A/N: Major brownie points to whoever can guess which episode I had in mind while writing this (its relevant) Otie is exempt and deserves lots of credit for helping me get this one just right. Hope you like! Let me know Please! xx
Today is Sara's birthday.
She is 29 years old.
She was still adjusting to the pace of life in Las Vegas, the humidity of the desert and the workload piled relentlessly on her shoulders over the past few months. Had she still been in San Francisco she would have been forced out for drinks with her friends, it hadn't taken them long to figure out when her birthday was and they liked any excuse to blow off some steam. It would have been one of those nights you look back on fondly but never quite fully remember all the details.
No-one in Vegas knew it was her birthday yet. No-one in Vegas knew very much about her at all except Grissom, and she hardly expected him to even mention it.
She wondered briefly if he ever celebrated his own birthdays or if they passed him by like any other day. Knowing him like she did she'd be surprised if he even remembered when his own birthday was, let alone hers. Grissom was not the type of person to initiate a celebration.
Like most birthdays the day had started like any other. She woke in frenzy, suffering the ill-effects of yet another nightmare. She lay amongst her sheets listening to the ticking of the clock on her wall and calmed her rapid breathing as she struggled to regain her grip on reality. She always hated that moment of confusion on waking. She hated the limbo, the control freak in her felt her grip on reality slipping away and clung to those reigns with everything she had. Another long shower scalded her skin as she set the temperature too high and hoped that the flow would wash away the memories that haunted her dreams. Another coffee bit at her taste buds as she skimmed over the obituaries to see if there were any names she recognized.
The coffee was something she hated about her routine. Every morning she would wait for the machine to trudge out a hot mug of sludge that she would then grumble over and place on the side after one sip. Moving to Vegas had proved to be a lot more expensive than she had anticipated and that brand new $800 coffee machine she had her eye on was destined to be out of her reach for the foreseeable future. With a shake of her head she ditched the offending coffee and threw on her jacket, venturing outside to a nearby coffee house.
It was a bohemian little place tucked into a side street with a hanging basket full of daffodils by the door. She had stumbled upon it one morning while searching for an antique book store Grissom had told her about when she first arrived. Now, 6 months down the line, she was on first name terms with all the staff and had gained regular status.
This was something she was unsure how to feel about. The free spirit in her longed to be wild and free, not to be confined to one place or a monotonous routine. The homebody in her loved the familiarity and sense of belonging she got every time she stepped through the doors and heard that little bell chiming her arrival.
It just so happened on that day that there was something else familiar to her in the coffee house; or rather someone else.
He was sat there in the corner of the room on a huge red leather armchair, his head buried in his book and his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as they so often did. It was a sight so familiar and yet so endearing she couldn't help but smile at it despite her best efforts not to.
Gil Grissom was also a creature of habit. If he was here it wasn't because of some chance happening or serendipitous moment, he had been here before. Probably long before she had, he looked so comfortable there it was almost like he had become one of the features, like the paintings on the wall or the oversized furniture. She could picture him stumbling across this place, much the same way she had. Searching for the bookstore on a tip off from a work colleague or an acquaintance. It begged the question of whether the person who pointed him in this direction had meant as much to him as he did to her.
Sara paused for a second, wondering whether she should approach him and disturb his moment of solitary indulgence or to coyly retreat into the corner and wait for him to notice her. The truth was, for a trained and talented observer he was not at all observant in his own life. In fact, she would describe him as one of the most frustratingly clueless men she had ever met.
Clueless, frustrating, unobservant and incredibly, inexplicably enigmatic.
"Morning Sara" The Barista she now knew as Joe smiled at her.
He always said 'morning' to her, no matter what time of the day it actually was. It was a throwback to one of their earlier conversations about the joys of working nights in Las Vegas. He had wished her a good night and she had responded appropriately with a death glare and a comment about her day just getting started.
"I'll take my usual Joe" She nodded, noting he was already halfway through preparing it.
As she reached out her hand to pay he presented her with his palm and a shake of his head.
"Already covered" He insisted.
Her frown was met by a cryptic nod towards the corner of the room but as she twirled around to look the huge red chair was vacant and nothing but an empty mug and a book laid on the table indicated Grissom had ever actually been there.
Sara shook her head and stifled a smile as she cradled her coffee mug and approached the tiny table. He always seemed to know how to catch her off guard, just when she was about to write him off as a robot he went ahead and hit her with something kind and thoughtful, like this.
She settled back into his chair, shamefully enjoying the warmth that he had left behind as it embraced her. For a moment she sunk into a meditative state, the coffee vapor from her mug lingering in the air as she pressed her eyes closed and she was transported to another place entirely. A safe, calm place she wished she didn't have to leave.
The chime of the bell above the door snapped her back to reality with a jolt, forcing her to sit bolt upright like a child about to be caught doing something naughty. Of course, had it been Grissom returning it would have been shamefully embarrassing to have been caught fantasizing in her boss' chair but luckily the young man who came in barely noticed her as he ordered his drinks to take away. Sara shook off the nervous tension and took a long sip of her coffee wondering how Grissom had managed to slip out without the bell alerting them.
One of his many talents was appearing out of nowhere and apparently disappearing was just as easy for him. She drew her attention to the book, gently dancing her fingertips across the leather binding.
She had told him about the mystery gifts she had received as a child, she never told him why and he never asked. The romantic in her saw this gesture as a nod to the 'happy' memories of her past. If he knew the truth of course, it would have meant something else entirely but his heart was in the right place. It was possibly naïve of her, she realized, to assume he had left it there on purpose. It may have been a mistake; he could have been so surprised to see her there that he fled the situation as soon as he set eyes on her.
Their relationship had been strained lately. Becoming his employee had muddied the already murky waters and it felt like sometimes the tension between them became unbearable. They just danced around each other all the time in some kind of bizarre, misguided mating ritual. One minute aching for physical contact and flirty conversation, the next avoiding each other like the plague.
Many times she wished she could turn off the undeniable attraction she felt towards him. It was both electrifying and terrifying but in truth she enjoyed relinquishing control sometimes. She enjoyed the small sense of satisfaction and victory she felt in moments like this, as fleeting as they were.
She opened the cover of the book, taking a deep breath as though to soak in the contents and cast her eyes carefully over the title. Plato's republic, it was a book they had discussed extensively when they had first met. In fact, their entire dysfunctional and addictive relationship had been given its first push into unknown territory by this very book. Albeit a cheaper, more worn and borrowed version of it. Had it been a gift then the relevance was breathtaking but she knew better than to make assumptions about Gil Grissom.
She distractedly flipped through the first few pages, searching for the answer she needed. It struck her that she was probably searching for something that wasn't there. It was all too often that the things she lay huge emphasis on were destined to fly over Grissom's head. He simply didn't have the tenacity or the savvy to court a women like she expected him to, or maybe he lacked the desire. She wished it would become clear so many times, the confusion that seemed to follow her around like a little black raincloud settled heavily on her shoulders in moments like this. Moments where the man she had built up in her mind was proved to be nothing more than a fantasy creation, an illusion of wishful thinking and just like every other man that walked this planet.
Had Sara continued to the last page she would have found all the information she needed, although presented in a subtle, barely there kind of way, a tiny S scratched on the corner of one page and a G scratched on the opposite corner with a single kiss. That endearment would have represented a lot to her had she spotted it, instead she had bundled the book into her bag intending to slip it onto his desk at work and gone about her day with a chip on her shoulder Grissom never could understand.
It would be many years before Sara would pick up that same book and learn the truth, many years before she could put it right and many years before Grissom ever had the courage to actually confess his intentions had been amorous all along.
Sara threw her purse, with the offending book, on the passenger seat of her truck and started the engine. All the way to work she ran through what she would say to Grissom when she saw him again. She was unsure how to approach the situation. Should she remain aloof and simply offer him a nod of acknowledgement? Perhaps thank him for the coffee and return the book when they were alone? The thought of being alone with him at the present moment seemed to terrify her. She didn't know where she stood at any given moment, how could she put herself in a situation where she may be forced to analyses their relationship more than she already did?
The drive to work passed in a daze, her brain seemed to have tuned out of reality and become overwhelmed with torment over Grissom. This was not a new development for her, since she had met him he seemed to have a unique ability to monopolize her thoughts. It was one of the things that drew her to him so much, he made her feel everything so deeply she couldn't quite bear it and yet she craved his company, approval and his love more than anything.
In no time, she had pulled up outside the lab and sat staring at the ominous block of grey ahead of her with a heavy heart. There were times she loved coming to work. She was blessed with the knowledge that she had chosen a career that fitted like a glove. She knew she was good at what she did and she prided herself on that. There was something special about being able to give closure to people in their darkest times. There was no doubt that it came with its own challenges and torture. She was particularly susceptible to the feeling of guilt and disappointment when they didn't manage to get that all important conviction. Her blood would boil if she had to watch the bad guy walk out of court with his head held high knowing it would only be a matter of time before she would be seeing him again, usually with another couple of victims under his belt. She had her moments of sorrow and despair but she also had moments of sheer pleasure knowing she had given peace and justice to those who deserved it.
Today the feeling of butterflies in her stomach was nothing to do with a case or a victim or even a suspect. Her feeling of despair was down to Gil Grissom and the way he managed to always keep her on that hook no matter how much she struggled.
The sound of her cell phone chiming startled her. Its tone cutting through the deep comforting silence she had created, his name lit up on the screen forewarning her of what was to come. It was almost shameful the way her stomach churned whenever she saw it. It was usually to do with a case of course, in fact 90% of the time it was a case but that little 10% that slid through was always a treat for her no matter how much she convinced herself she didn't care.
"Sidle" She answered after clearing her throat. She internally cursed herself for sounding so nervous; her pride had taken a bit of a beating in the last few months. Grissom hadn't helped, he raised her up and watched her fall so many times she wasn't quite sure where she was anymore and that frustrated her. The lack of control she had at the moment was frightening.
"We got a body drop off the highway, picking you up on the way" He explained, curt and to the point as he always was. Sara let out a sigh of disappointment; he never failed to confuse her.
"I'm at the lab already" She explained, climbing out of her truck and glancing around the car park.
Grissom pulled up beside her, Nick already seated in the back. He'd even arranged a third wheel. He had already hung up, no goodbye or pleasantries passed his lips. She wasn't sure why she was surprised but the entire journey out to the scene she tossed it all over in her head. The book, the coffee and the distance he had now placed firmly between them. She couldn't tell if it was intentional on his part, it would help if he was the type of person she could have open dialogue with. She could just ask him straight out what was going on and get her clarity but they both knew it wasn't as simple as that. She would have been surprised if anyone thought it was as simple as that, even Nick felt the need to chatter inanely in the back of the car to distill the tension between them and when they pulled up the site behind Brass' police car she couldn't get out of the vehicle fast enough.