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This City is Contagious

(4)

Grissom settled into his seat, his eyes studying Las Vegas below them as they took off in the dusky evening sky. The neon of the strip stood definitely against the purple that had crept into the horizon. He took a deep breath attempting to push all of the thoughts and doubts that had flooded in consciousness out of his mind. But he couldn't help himself as his mind wandered to Sara, in her current position.

Was she with him right now?

Were they reuniting after his visit?

He wondered if she was wrapped up in his arms, letting him hold her in that they way that she wouldn't let him near her anymore. He wondered if they were making love in her bed, in their bed. If they felt as if they had been apart for ever in the last four days without the warmth of each other's bodies, the taste of each other's skin.

After so many years he had finally started becoming comfortable with the idea that she was his. Marriage had brought them even closer together, and he realised that he had never seen her happier than the day they had exchanged their vows.

How had things changed so much in such little time?

The question had been playing on his mind for a while. He knew she had grown bored with their life in Paris, but he had never suspected that things had gotten so bad that she would have sought to be with someone else.

Was she in love?

Grissom wondered if attempting to find comfort for the problems in their marriage she had found someone that she loved and wished to be with. Or was it just about the sex? Perhaps she had just found someone that made her feel passionate, alive again; someone who fulfilled her desires.

And in that moment it struck him that he didn't want to know, that he didn't want to think about her with anyone else.

"Can I get a glass of Chardonnay?" He asked the flight attendant that was walking by.

"Of course sir" she responded with a smile disappearing past him to retrieve his drink. Switching on his laptop he began scrolling through the emails messages on his University intranet account attempting to get his mind back into the gear of work. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as a familiar name popped up; Abrielle Perrin.

Abrielle had proven herself to be one of his top students in a short amount of time, challenging him in his seminars and lecturers with knowledge that he would never have expected someone of her age to have grasped. Her papers had always put forward provocative arguments with subtle persistence. Grissom had realised that he couldn't be help but he impressed with her. He opened the email looking forward to reading her work.

"Is that your Mrs? She's pretty." The man seated beside him asked, his eyes moving quickly away from the small image of Abrielle that had appeared on the side of his screen.

"What?" He frowned slightly. "No...No, she's one of my students."

"Oh sorry...just with a smile like that- you're either in love or been told you won the lottery." He shrugged.

"Well, neither is the case." Grissom corrected.

"I don't think your Mrs would be too happy about that." The man beside him laughed indicating to his wedding ring. He turned away and put his headphones on before Grissom had the chance to explain.

He was in love and he should have said so, the thought guilty as he glanced down at his wedding ring. He did love Sara; he loved her more than he thought he could love anyone else. She had come into his life shaking his beliefs to their very foundations.

He, also, realised with remorse how he had hesitated to let her be a part of his world, how he had hurt her by not saying anything earlier but claiming that it would not be appropriate. Grissom thought of how he had sat aside and watched her heart build and break over him.

Perhaps she had never forgiven him for those long and painful years?

Perhaps that was what this was about?

With a deep breath and glancing out of the window at the clouds that were engulfing the air-craft as they made their journey he read the email in order to distract himself.

Salut Sir,

I hope Las Vegas is treating you well (but hopefully not better than Paris).

The weather here has been rather dire, but I'm sure things shall brighten up once you return. I've missed our chats.

I've attached my paper and look forward to reading you feedback.

My best regards,

AP

He opened the file taking a sip of the wine that had been brought for him, prepared to start marking with a critical eye. He'd purposely set a hard question hoping that he would be able to challenge his students and see how far he could stretch them.

They had been discussing the psychopathology of rapists linking the idea of personalities into reading crime scenes. Most of students had turned away in disgust at the case study photographs that been plastered up in his power point.

With a small sigh he began reading the paper, the writing style seemed increasingly familiar, the subtle views and questions she shared were those someone else had once asked him; his wife. He recalled the time that Sara had told him about her past, and the questions she had asked about genetics predisposing violence. And in Abrielle's work he saw the same lingering questions about explanations for such crimes.

Grissom realised that he had previously never noticed how similar his student was to Sara. They were both passionate, intelligent, adventurous women sharing similar views and ideas. He thought it strange that he had never made this association before and began wondering how he had never introduced them.

A small smile playing on his lips he began writing his feedback to the paper, expressing how impressed he had been with the ideas and questions she had raised.

He had thrown himself back to work so well that it was almost as if he could forget the problems that had made themselves evident between him and Sara.