Sara set the plant down on the hallway table, dumped her keys in the bowl and her purse on the floor. He'd taken the trouble of bringing it round rather than having it delivered; was it because he'd hoped she'd be home? But why? What could he have to say now that he couldn't have before? Receiving the plant had got her heart beat a little faster and her mind working overtime, but she was bound to be disappointed, right? She paused and sighed and looked at the plant again, at the small envelope sticking out of its foliage, a sad smile forming as she thought of a possible message inside it.
A simple, Congratulations! maybe?
An impersonal, From Grissom?
From Gil, with love?
Her smile widened.
A humble, Sorry, I'm an ass, would do her fine.
Whatever the note said, she knew it wouldn't be enough and was almost scared to open it, lest it quashed whatever small hope she still harboured that all wasn't over between them. The red light on her answerphone blinked with a message, and her heartbeat quickening in anticipation she pressed play. Much to her regret, her mother's quiet voice filled the silence in the house, offering words of congratulations and pride on hearing the good news, but why must she have heard it from a third party? Good question, Sara thought with a wry smile, and made a mental note to go visit her mother soon.
Her eyes lingering on the plant, Sara removed her jacket, swapped her work shoes for her house ones and headed to the kitchen. There, she poured herself a glass of water and drank it whole before refilling it and taking it to the bedroom. As she walked through the lounge, she glanced at the hallway table, pausing briefly as once again she stared at the plant, before making herself continue on. She was a coward, and she was scared, scared of letting him get close and of getting hurt all over again. It wouldn't take much for that to happen, not much at all.
Sipping at her drink she put a little music on and wearily got undressed before slipping on her robe and hanging up her work suit. Normally she found comfort in her routine. It kept her mind from wandering, from wishing and hoping, from thinking too much of what was missing from her life. It kept her moving forward rather than back. But today, that didn't happen. Today, her senses were on alert, and all that because of a plant and a note she was yet to read. Maybe she should go for a run, drain the last ounce of energy from her body, as she knew, from past experience, that sleep would be hard to come by.
In the bathroom, she ran a hot bath, tied her hair back and waited on the edge of the tub for it to fill. Idly, she turned her head toward the bedroom, paused and sighed, then as if pulled by an invisible force retraced her steps through the house to the hallway, to the plant, and picked up the envelope. Pinching her lips, she reached inside the table drawer for the letter opener – his letter opener, the G etched on the handle faded with age. A gift from Betty, she remembered Grissom telling her once, given long before they'd even met. It still did the job beautifully and today was no exception.
Her hands shaking, she pulled out the card and started walking back to the bedroom. Congratulations! was indeed inscribed on the front in big, bright gold lettering. She smiled despite herself; she'd been right about that at least. When she opened the small card, the breath momentarily caught in her throat and she dropped down at the edge of her bed. There was no From Grissom, or, From Gil, with love, but a very long message in small writing that used every bit of space available.
So, he did have something to say after all, she thought, her eyes brimming with tears. He still had so much power over her, still held the key to so much of her wellbeing and happiness, it was frightening. One gesture, one small gesture from him was all it took to put all her resentment and bitterness to bed, albeit momentarily, and let gush all the love she felt for him and took so much care all of the time to keep contained and concealed.
Yes, he'd written, causing her to laugh through her tears, a plant.A little cliché, I know, even for me but well, that's the best I could come up with in the circumstance.
She was about to read on when startling she remembered that the tub was still filling. Wiping at her eyes, she rushed over and turned off the taps, taking care not to get the card wet. She was walking back to the bedroom to read the rest of his words when the doorbell rang, making her jump. Frowning, she turned toward the sound and froze. Whoever it was, she instinctively knew it wasn't Grissom. He wouldn't come, not when he'd only just left the plant. He'd made his move; now it was her turn to make one. Or not, as the case was.
There was banging at the door now, followed by Brass's voice quietly urging her to open up, and she knew she couldn't ignore it. With a sigh, Sara wiped her hands to her face, slipped the note in her robe pocket, and tightening the belt around her went to answer the door.
"I know you're in," she heard him say, "Your car's in the drive."
Smiling, she unbolted the door and let Brass in.
"See?" he said without preamble, a wide smile on his face as he stepped past her, "My deductive powers are still intact."
"Come on in, Jim, why don't you," she said, deadpan, closing the door after him.
Brass turned around, taking in her appearance. "It's okay. I'm not staying. I can see you're…busy."
She smiled. "What can I do for you?"
"I found this." Brass felt inside his jacket pocket and fished out a pendant and necklace.
Frowning, Sara took a step closer and then brought her hand to her neck. It was her necklace, one she'd had years and which had been purchased on one of the stalls along the River Seine in Paris. It hadn't cost much at all, but was of great sentimental value. She'd been wearing it that morning, had chosen it especially to wear on her first day as lab director; she hadn't even realised she'd lost it.
"Where did you find it?" she asked in a whisper, taking the item of jewellery form him, and noticing the broken clasp went to sit down on the couch.
Following, Brass sat down on an armchair across from her. "On the floor, in the diner," he replied when she looked up, and smiled. "I'm sure it can be fixed."
Nodding, Sara returned his smile with a shaky one of her own. "Thank you. It's one of my favourites."
Brass's smile widened. "Don't mention it."
He paused, stared straight at her, and uncomfortable under his scrutiny she averted her eyes back to the pendant in her hand. There was a moment of awkwardness between them. Brass sat back in his chair before moving forward again, and Sara carefully lowered the necklace onto the coffee table in front of her.
"Catherine mentioned you haven't been sleeping very well," she said, bringing her eyes back to Brass as she wrapped her robe tighter over her bare legs and then slipped her hand in the side pocket, needing to check that Grissom's note was still there.
Brass pointed to his ear. "Damn ringing, you know? The doc says to give it a few more weeks, that he can't see any sign of permanent damage." He flashed a quick smile. "I'll be fine. I'm a tough old boy."
His turn of phrase made Sara smile.
"So," he went on after a beat, his voice soft as he held her gaze levelly, "this promotion, you sure that's what you want?"
"Well, don't beat around the bush on my account, will you?"
"What would be the point?" he said, his gaze piercing straight through her.
Sara's mouth opened, then shut, but she knew there was no point pretending and she didn't bother. "Who else was going to do it?" she said, needing the fill the silence that was building between them. "Until a permanent appointment was made I'd have been doing the job anyway, might as well get paid for it and get the title."
Brass's only reply was an earnest nod of the head.
"I know I can do the job," she insisted, "and I'll be good at it."
Laughing uneasily, Brass raised his hands in mock-surrender. "Hey, I know you will. It's just…well, you're a great criminalist, Sara, out in the field or at the lab, and I'd hate to see you unhappy. I never pegged you for the stuck-behind-a-desk type."
"DB managed both, and Grissom before him. You did too."
"Yeah, well, believe me when I say that it came at a price, for all of us. Besides, the job's changed, hasn't it?" He let out a long breath. "Just…be careful not to fall in the trap and let the job take over your life."
Sara gave him a wry smile. "I think it's too late for that."
Brass stared at her at length, then nodded his head and reached forward to pat his hand to her knee. "You take care of yourself, you hear me? And remember, it's never too late."
Sara's brow creased with a frown as she wondered what exactly he meant by his words, but Brass pushed up to his feet without elaborating. "I'd better get going, let you get ready for bed." And then as he moved to the door, "You got shift tonight?"
"Yep," she replied, standing too, "Tonight and every night until Catherine starts. And even then, we'll still be one short." She paused, sighed. "You ever miss it? The job, I mean."
Brass shrugged. "I miss being a real cop," he said, smiling. "But I don't miss any of the rest, no." His smile broadened, lighting his world-weary face. "Ellie called me yesterday, asked me how I was. Said she saw the explosion on the news. I'm going up to see her next week." His smile faded, and he swallowed. "Leaving the department and putting her first is the best thing I ever did. Even if it came a little late in the day."
Brass moved to embrace Sara and then went on his way, leaving her perplexed and a little melancholy. She watched through the window as he got into his car and slowly reversed out of her driveway onto the road, then pulled the note out of her pocket and headed to the bathroom. The bath water had gone tepid, and Sara emptied some out, replacing it with hot water.
Yes, she read for the second time, her smile immediately returning, a plant.A little cliché, I know, even for me but well, that's the best I could come up with in the circumstance.
I said you left me speechless, she read on, and I meant it. I don't think I conveyed how happy and proud I am for what you've achieved. You were always the better CSI, Sara, because you care for the why, not just the how, and I know you'll make a better boss too. Trust in your ability, your judgement and beliefs, and you'll be fine. That's what I should have said to you earlier in the hallway when I congratulated you, and I'm sorry I didn't.
But better late than never, right? You taught me that.
Damn, I'm running out of space. I should have asked for a bigger card, but I didn't want to write it in front of the woman and besides I needed time to compose my thoughts. With hindsight we'd do everything differently. I know I sure would.
Take care of yourself, Gil.
Sara wiped the tears from her eyes and let out a long breath, then read the note all over again. It said so much, yet so little. But she was glad he'd found some words to express how he felt, even if those words weren't exactly the ones she'd have liked to have read. She placed the note in her pocket, took off the robe and after dipping a toe into the tub went in fully, sinking in as deeply as she could as she allowed the hot water to soothe her tired body.
After her bath, Sara closed the blinds and got ready for bed. Before she slipped in between the cold sheets, she went to get her cell from her purse, took it back with her to the bedroom and checked that the alarm was on. She got into bed and was about to turn off the light when instead she reached for her phone on the bedside table, scrolled to Grissom's name and tapped on the text message icon. Then she paused, unsure how best to proceed.
I found the plant, she began to type, Thank y…
She stopped, sighed, then deleted the message and shut off the phone before switching it back on.
Thank you for the plant. It's…
Again Sara tapped the backspace key, keeping the Thank you only, and then pressed send before she could change her mind. He'd given her a gift, thanking him was the polite thing to do. It didn't have to mean more or lead anywhere. Besides, knowing Grissom she didn't expect a reply. He might already be on his way back to San Diego for all she knew. She placed her cell back on the bedside table, slipped under the covers and turned off the light.
She was making a mental list of what she'd need to do before work when her cell chimed with a text message. Dispensing with the light, she reached over for the device, turned it on and squinting at the bright light tapped on the message icon.
You're welcome, she read, a smile of pleasure instinctively forming on her face. She was about to put the cell away when it chimed again and Sleep well appeared on the screen.
Her smile widened as a rush of contentment suddenly flooded her. Her tiredness abated. Should she reply, she wondered? Leave it at that? She hesitated briefly, then sat up a little and typed I will, before immediately pressing send. She found herself waiting with bated breath for his reply, which was almost instantaneous.
I'm in Home Depot, it said, and a few seconds later, With Mom.
Sara smiled again.
And then, Meet for dinner before shift?
Sara's smile faded. She pinched her lips, swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. That text was so reminiscent of so many others they'd sent each other over the years.
Before, way back when.
Her heart was beating so very fast. Her fingers hovered uncertainly over the phone keyboard, poised to type a reply, and yet she hesitated.
It would be so easy to say yes, but then what?
Would sharing a meal together only serve to remind her of what she was missing and couldn't have anymore? Was this merely an attempt at repairing their fraught relationship, at rebuilding their shaky friendship? There were friends first, that was true, but had been so much more since. But how could they go back to just being friends again? Would that simply be too painful to bear?
"What's the point?" she asked herself out loud, and with a sigh put her cell away.