Disclaimer: They aren't mine. I know this, because if they were, Sara would have been on last night!! Grr.

A/N: Again, I want to thank everyone for the reviews, they make me happy! ...Now, maybe I'm getting review-greedy, but I'd love to hear what people think about the story more specifically... some have done that already, and yeah, I feel like I'm being greedy now, but... like, for example, do you like the non-CSI characters? Little things like that, just reactions... you wouldn't belive how smiley I get! Anway, thanks! (And I'm really not greedy... please review, even if you don't want to give me details...)

I want to thank MSCSIFANGSR for pointing out two chapters back that the power rangers weren't on tv yet in 1989. I'm usually crazy about details, so if anyone notices mistakes like that, I'd really like to know! I really appreciate it, thanks!


Chapter 15: August 1990

Viva Las Vegas?

I took the job in Vegas—I started the first of August, which was good. I wouldn't have work-friends pretending to care about my birthday (34, god I was getting old…) after the inevitable one person remembered and spread the word around. It would be quiet, and that would be nice. I decided that, as I was throwing myself into the job—this was my new life purpose—that I'd probably be in Vegas for a while. So, after assessing my finances, I contacted a real estate agent in Las Vegas and started looking for a place to buy—a condo, or a townhouse, maybe. I didn't need a big house to myself, but I wanted something to call my own. Something permanent, that meant I had a place in the world in which to belong.

I found a townhouse relatively close to the crime lab, so the commute wouldn't be too bad—it was a three bedroom, which was a bit much for me as there was a separate area of the living room that was set up to be a home office, but I could afford it, and I felt something good about it, that I hadn't felt in the other places we'd looked at. It felt like it was right for me. Plus, there was no reason I had to use that little office area as an office… I could keep displays of my butterfly collection there, and use the smallest bedroom as an office.

Then there'd be a guest room, for my mother or… or Laura and Amber, if they ever visited. I was doubtful, but a man can hope, can't he? Amber's calls had been lessening as time went on… she didn't call me daddy anymore. She didn't call me 'Gil' either… she just didn't really give me a title. Laura had been dating a 'Mark' for half a year now, and so I asked Amber to give her the phone one night, after our telephone conversation. There was muffled movement, and then Laura's voice.

"Hey, Gil. How are you doing?"

"I'm really good, actually. Listen, uh… there are a few things I wanted to talk to you about."

She hesitated. "…Okay."

"Well, uh… first, I guess, is that I'm moving again, tomorrow. Uh, I got a great job offer at the Las Vegas Crime Lab so… yeah."

"Congratulations, Gil!"

I wave this off, though I know she's probably genuinely happy for me. I didn't tell her to get praise. "So, um, I'll be without phone for a couple of days, during the move… it's supposed to be set up by Tuesday, at the latest… but if you have a paper and pen, I can get you my new information."

"Yeah, of course. Gimme a sec." I heard more shuffling, and then a drawer sliding closed with a snap. "Okay, go ahead."

"Gil Grissom, of course, 1672 S Sunset Dr. Las Vegas, Nevada, 89120."

"Apartment number?"

"None. I, uh… I actually bought a townhouse…"

"Wow. You're really serious about Vegas, huh?"

I smile. "Yeah, I… I think I am. Listen, I'll get you my new phone number when I get it, but… there's a guess room in the new place if… if you and Amber ever wanted to come for a visit. I know… I know it might not be… fiscally feasible but…"

"Gil." She interrupts me. "We'd love to visit. Maybe for Christmas or… or for her birthday."

I nod, and swallow hard. "Listen, uh, I don't know how serious you are with… with Mark… but… but he's welcome too. I don't… I don't want Amber to feel like… like she has to choose between the father-figures in her life."

She's quieter, this time. "Thank you."

"I, uh… there's something else."

"…Okay." She waits patiently and I draw in a deep breath.

"I… I don't know how Amber views me, anymore… and, and if I'm not really 'daddy' anymore, I mean… that's okay. I'd still like to be a part of her life… Maybe…" I hesitate, and then finally speak without hesitation or second-guessing myself. "Oh, hell, Laura, you know her better than I do. If… If you think she's struggling with it, or she doesn't know how to treat me… tell her that I'll be whatever she wants me to be. Daddy or… or Crazy Uncle Gilbert or… just a friend of the family. I… I don't want my presence in her life to be confusing."

"Gil…"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to marry Mark."

My eyes fall closed and I take in a deep breath, my hands trembling. I force myself to speak.

"Congratulations, Laura… I'm… I'm happy for you."

"Gil, she… she calls him Mark, still, not daddy… but I don't think she knows what to call you. I just… kind of left it, I wanted her to decide what to call you. …But she loves you, Gil. She talks about you all the time."

I nod, taking comfort in the small joy, though I worry that I've been replaced. What could I really expect, though, living across the country? I push my hands heavily to the table before me, to stop the trembling. "Good, good. Just… uh… tell her she can call me anything, and I won't be upset, no matter what. You… you guys should think about visiting. I have a guest bedroom and… I'm thinking about putting a futon in the office, so… so there's bed space for the… three of you."

"Great, Gil. I'll talk to them about it… Thank you, for everything."

"Yeah… Of course." I said, though I wasn't sure what she was thanking me for. "Listen, there was one more thing…"

"Yes?"

"I, um… I just got a pay raise, for the new job… I'll be on a different pay schedule, so you might get the checks at a different time of the month, but they're going to be a little larger… once I figure out my new finances."

"Gil, I was… I was going to talk to you about that too. With… with Mark and I pooling our incomes… you… you really don't need to send the money every month. We'll really be okay."

I swallowed convulsively, my throat dry. "I… Laura, I need to do this for Amber. I… I can't just… not. Do… do you have a college fund started for her? Put it in there, if you don't need it to support her in other ways… She's… God, she's smart, Laura. She deserves the best education we can give her. I don't… I don't want money to stand in the way."

I can almost hear her nodding on the other side of the connection. "I have… I have a little one, mostly from money you sent that we were able to save… I, uh, I was actually going to go talk to someone, in the next few weeks, about a way to invest it so it can grow…a CD or something…"

"Great. Put the money I send towards that, then. She needs it."

"Okay. …Thanks, Gil. I'll… I'll let you know, about visiting."

"Good. …Okay. Uh... Bye, Laura."

"Goodbye Gil."

I looked around my empty apartment—there were boxes cluttering all the available space, but it still felt hollow, like nothing was left. But I was looking into my future now—into the bright rays of the desert sun and into a job I could make my life's work. And Amber still loved me. I didn't need a title, I just needed to provide for her. And that was all I needed.

It… It would have to be.


Dating Michael Malone

Kelly was sprawled across my couch while I got ready. She'd brought over a wide selection of her own wardrobe, because I'd used up most of my dress clothes on the first five dates Michael had taken me on. Although the first night had been dinner and a movie, and a soft kiss on the cheek, I'd received a call the next day asking me when I was free again. It was the summer, so I only had my work schedule to work around, and I'd glanced at my schedule excitedly. "I, uh… I'm off on Thursday night… or… Sunday afternoon."

His response had made me giddy. "How about both?"

Thursday we'd gotten dinner and gone for a walk in the park, sharing our first kiss in the moonlight. I wanted to invite him in, but I didn't. I had to remind my brain to make the decisions, rather than my hormones.

Sunday he'd told me to dress casually, and clad in jeans and a shirt I thought made my boobs look great, he'd taken me sailing. We'd had a picnic just outside Boston Harbor, complete with sandwiches he'd clearly made himself and cold beers. We kissed, a little, but mostly we talked, and I learned a lot more about him.

He had loved books since he was a kid—majoring in English, at Boston University, had been a no-brainer. He'd lived in the city his whole life, and never once found himself lusting after a college student… at least, not since he was in college himself, he qualified. I grinned.

His parents had moved to Florida, for retirement, but he visited them every summer. That was where he'd gotten the gorgeous tan, I noted to myself. He'd never been married, but wanted to fall in love, get married, have a family… He asked if I wanted the same, but I don't think he expected my answer to be anything but an adamant "yes."

"I don't know. I… I struggle with marriage. I want to fall in love… I don't really want to participate in a ceremony based in the transfer of ownership from a woman's father to her husband. It all seems so… contrived. As for children, I'm torn on the subject. How can…" I hesitate.

"How can what?"

My lips twisted. "How can somebody who has never been parented be any kind of a parent themselves?"

His eyes narrowed sharply. "…What do you mean, Sara?"

I turned my gaze seaward, and took a swig of the beer I held between my denim-clad thighs. "Nothing, I just don't know if I want children. …Tell me about the book you're reading with your seventh graders the first week…"

He allowed me to change the subject, but his eyes remained narrow the rest of that day. He kissed me passionately at my door, but did not ask to come in, nor did he seem to expect it. When we parted, he was smiling his genuine smile again… my favorite one. "When do you get off of work, tonight?"

I smile. "Ten. I should be home by a quarter after…"

"I'll call you; see when you're free next week?"

I nod. "Okay, great."

And at 10:15 exactly, I'm setting my keys down and the phone rings. I answer, breathlessly, and it's him. I'm free Monday night, Wednesday all day, and Friday night, Saturday morning and afternoon…

He grins, asking if I would be upset if he dominated my social calendar all week. I laugh, telling him that I'm good with it, but Kelly might come after him. He says it's worth the risk.

The next night we eat Chinese takeout at his place, and watch an old movie—I forget the name… something with Audrey Hepburn. I missed most of the movie, as we ended up sprawled on his burgundy leather loveseat, me beneath him, breathing heavily just from the way he kissed me. I couldn't imagine what he would do to me once we moved past kissing…

I wondered if he was moving slowly because of my age or because it was the way he always would have progressed a relationship. I wanted to ask, because I didn't want him to treat me differently because of my age, but I was also nervous… I appreciated that the slowness was something I could count on. I hadn't been with anyone since Tyler, and so I felt as good as a virgin in the arms of the most experienced, most talented, sexiest man I had ever been so close to. Even being the perfect gentleman—his hands running through my hair, over my arms, my sides—his touch excited me beyond my wildest dreams. He certainly knew what he was doing, and while I was nervous, my body responded to him without any conscious intention to do so.

Wednesday, during the day, we watched a little league game in a park, had a lunch consisting of lukewarm hot dogs and warm coke, and then he suggested I call Kelly, when we got back to my apartment, and we could all go to a movie and grab a late dinner. I looked at him, surprised, and he laughed.

"Well, based on the fact that she's managed to be at your apartment every time I've come to pick you up, and by the annoyed look on your face until she leaves, I've gathered that she's enjoying our relationship vicariously. I thought… maybe it'd be nice to meet your best friend, and she could get to know me directly." He nudges me, a sly grin on his face. "…Maybe it'll stop her assaulting me with her eyes every time she sees me."

I giggled in surprise, but did not deny his accusation, and called her to ask. Of course, she agreed. It was Kelly.

The movie was a comedy, and we all enjoyed it thoroughly. We ate at a seafood place, just off the water, and by the end of the date Kelly was giving me looks that directed me to both marry and have sex with him… in no particular order. I giggled uncontrollably, and Michael just placed a hand on the small of my back as we walked to his car. He seemed almost smug, and then I realized that this was part of the plan—the big scheme in his seduction—he knew that to win me over completely, he needed to win over the friend. And now… he had an ally in that seduction. I wouldn't be surprised if I found out, in a week or a month or more, that she'd been feeding him tips from that night on. My lips twisted. He was sneaky.

We dropped her off and then he took me back to my apartment, walking me to the door. We kissed passionately for a moment, my back pressed to the wood, and I wanted to invite him in… but I didn't want to give the wrong idea, either. I hesitated, after he'd pulled away and told me goodnight, and he smiled softly.

"Sara… please, just tell me what you're thinking? I don't want… I don't want our ages to impact how we speak to one another… how our relationship progresses."

And so I sigh, biting my bottom lip, and look up at him. "I… I don't want the day to end… I want to ask you in, but…"

"But you don't want that to be perceived as an invitation to sex?"

I nod, softly, and he smiles. "I can't promise that I won't have my hands all over you, Sara… but I can promise that I would never do anything you didn't want me to do… never keep going if you told me to stop. I… I know you don't want to hear this, but I… I expected that we would wait longer, before we… slept together. There's nothing wrong with taking it slow…"

I sigh heavily. "Would you expect to wait longer with someone older?" I ask the question, expecting his answer to be no, of course. But it isn't.

"I would expect to wait longer with anyone who doesn't seem to have had a lot of relationships… no matter how old they are."

My eyes meet his, and I'm worried. "Did Kelly—"

He interrupts. "She didn't tell me anything, Sara… I can just tell. It's... Look, can we have this conversation inside?"

And so I let him into my apartment, locking the doors and slipping off my shoes. He follows suit and we both move to the couch, as if there had been no break in our conversation.

"I was just trying to say that… that it isn't a bad thing to have limited experience, at any age, but especially at eighteen…"

I nod, my lips shifting side to side as I think. Then I meet his eyes. "How many women have you slept with?"

He purses his lips, but answers immediately, and honestly. "Four." I nod. He's thirty… that hardly makes him promiscuous. This bolsters my self-esteem for the inevitable reciprocation of my question. "How many men have you slept with?"

"One." He looks a little surprised, and so I ask the follow-up. "You thought I was a virgin?"

He tilts his head. "I thought it was a definite possibility… Can… would it be too personal to ask how many… times… you slept with him?"

My eyes are on the floor now. He sees through me, of course. "Once."

And then he nods, feeling as if he's been proven right. I might not be a virgin, but having had sex once hardly counts, really… I think his questioning is done when he pulls me gently into his arms, his fingers running through my curls, but I'm wrong.

"How… how old were you?"

Normally I would be mad, but I can't bring myself to be, not when he's holding me so gently. "Six… sixteen." I say, mad at myself for stuttering over the word. He drops a few kisses into my hair.

"How old was he?"

"Seventeen."

He tilts my head up to look into my eyes, and brushes his lips against mine softly. "No offense to him, because… I'm sure he was fine and wonderful and… and all that but… at seventeen, you're just doing everything in your power to not lose it with every little movement… I… I don't think you've ever had a complete sexual experience with a man, and… and there's nothing wrong with that. I just don't want… anything rushed between us. Because you deserve that moment to be perfect, whether it's with me or… or whether you get sick of me and decide to share it with someone else…"

He kisses me more fervently then, and I'm nodding in agreement with his words even as my body reacts to the kiss. My body is pushing against his, and his arms wrap around my waist, as if he senses the shift my mind has taken. We fall back on the couch again, and soon we have to break from the kiss, gasping for breath. He rests his forehead against mine, looking into my eyes.

"Sara, I… I didn't bring all this up to… to pressure you or…"

I cover his lips quickly with mine, to stop his protests. "I know. I… uh… no sex…yet, but… but you don't have to be afraid to touch me, anymore." I grasp his hands, where they rest on either side of my head, supporting his weight. At my tugging, he lowers his weight gently onto my body and frees them, letting me guide them to rest on my chest. His already rapid breathing hitches for a second, and his eyes are uncertain, but after a moment he gives in, capturing my lips again, almost frantically. He didn't leave for several hours…

And now, two nights later, I was digging through Kelly's wardrobe, desperate for something he hadn't seen me in yet. She gets frustrated at me, sitting up and pushing me aside. "Here," she says, passing me a light blue skirt, tailored to give my skinny figure shape, and flowing… I put it on without argument as she continues to thumb through the piles. It falls gently at my knee, and then she's passing me a black, short-sleeved shirt, with a low-cut v-neck. Again, I dress without argument. She grins at me. "Oh, Sara, what would you do without me?"

I grumble. "I managed to get a boyfriend without you…"

She rolls her eyes. "But not to dress yourself for the first date… Still, I have to give you props… he's the sexiest old man I ever laid eyes on. Have you done it yet?"

I blush. "No, and it'll probably be a while, so don't get your hopes up."

She giggles. "If I had him, Sara, I wouldn't be waiting…"

"Yeah, yeah, you're all talk, miss I'm so horny all the time but I've only slept with one person and I dated him for three years first…"

She laughs though, immune to my teasing. "You have better luck with men, what can I say? …So, what are you guys doing tonight?"

"He's cooking for me, at his place… and then we'll probably put in a movie we have no intention of watching and make out…" I shrug, and she laughs again.

"Why not just let it go a little further…?"

I giggle, despite myself. "You are nothing if not persistent…"

She giggles too. "Let's just hope he is too! For your sake… I didn't want to tell you, Sara, because you'd probably have killed me but… you've been grumpy lately. You really need to get laid."

There's a knock on the door, which I'm sure is Michael, and so I don't even respond to her taunting as I move to open the it.

How I ended up with the smuttiest girl in Boston for a best friend, I'll never know.