Yes, whoever is alive always shows up. Happy 2024! I'm not a big fan of this time of year, and in these somewhat down moments, I always find solace here. So, keep writing, please! I also got a bit sick during the holiday season, but that ended up inspiring me for at least two more chapters. So, that's it. I hope you enjoy this one! Thanks for reading =)

And, oh, I do not own CSI or any of the characters.

Chapter 8

After ensuring that Greg would uphold his agreement to cover the cost of breakfast, Sara bid farewell to her friend with a hearty and lingering hug. While she typically avoided discussing her personal life, especially the one she shared with someone, engaging in a lengthy and honest conversation with Greg brought forth new emotions.

In this context, with her ex-husband working alongside her to assist none other than Lady Heather, delving into memories triggered a conflict of emotions she hadn't anticipated when undertaking the interrogation led by Greg.

Damn it.

Sara switched on the car radio to fill the silence within the vehicle, but unfortunately, the music couldn't drown out the voices in her own head. Where could Gil be now? Should she call him? Ask if he needed anything? Should she invite him to stay at their - her - house?

Nonsense!

Despite feeling frustrated, angry, jealous, and a myriad of other emotions surrounding him, it was evident that the most significant one was missing him. Upon reaching home, she realized sleep would elude her and didn't bother attempting. She wasn't in the mood to watch TV or read either. In these moments, a run never failed. She swapped her pants for shorts, her blouse for a running shirt, and as she put on her sneakers while seated on the couch, she noticed the wristwatch on the table.

It was Christmas. The first one they spent as a couple - a thought she could now entertain confidently. As a Christmas custom and tradition, she volunteered to work during the holiday so others could spend it with their families. No surprise there. The real surprise was seeing "Gil Grissom" listed right after her.

"I heard you're spending Christmas with the boss!"

"What?" Sara asked, hoping Nick wouldn't hear her heart racing.

"Yeah, Grissom's going to work with you. Warrick's on call, but it's usually a quiet shift, so…"

"Oh! Yeah, yeah. Probably It will be," she said, smiling, closing her laptop, ready to call it a day. "So, going to Texas?"

"Oh, no, actually, the family is coming to Vegas." Nick registered Sara's surprise, "Yeah, go figure. They want to see the lights, all gambling; it will be a different Christmas, I guess."

"For those who don't live here, maybe there's a charm," she said, not entirely sure of herself, eliciting a laugh from Nick.

"But… What about you, Sar? We never talked about that, but… There isn't anyone you wanna visit this time of the year?"

Her heart sank. Year after year volunteering to work on Christmas, Thanksgiving, and any other occasion people usually crave for, surely raised suspicions. Long before she and Grissom got together, she remembered him asking:

"You worked last year, don't you want to enjoy this one?"

"I'll enjoy working. Let the others enjoy it with their families," she had said. He raised his eyebrows, but as reserved as ever, didn't ask questions.

But back to Nick; it's funny because all she could think about that moment wasn't really about her or her terrible childhood. If she truly answered Nick the way he probably deserved to be answered, she'd be the one consoling him. Nick was an incredibly sweet guy, who dreamed about marriage, family, kids. She didn't feel the urge to share anything about her past at that moment, of course, but she wouldn't anyway. It'd make him cry. And she'd cry. And everything would be just… terrible. So she decided to keep it simple:

"Not really, no."

But he didn't drop it.

"Your parents—"

"Dead.", she answered without really thinking.

And then there was silence.

"Oh, Sara, I'm so sorry. I thought they lived far away or something…"

"That's not a problem," she forced a smile at him while gathering her stuff, getting ready to leave, "it was a long time ago, it was a little complicated, but I barely think about it."

Liar, liar, LIAR.

Nick obviously heard the false tone in her voice because the next thing she heard was an invitation to dinner with his family.

What a sweet guy, but really… NO.

"Of course, I can arrange a vegetarian dish!", he quickly added.

"Thanks, Nick, I appreciate it, but I'm good," she looked around to make sure everything was already in her purse. She was ready to get the hell out of there. "See you next shift, bye."

"Bye, Sar," he had said, but she had barely heard it.

Impressive how her past always got a chance to make her feel sad all of a sudden. Will it one day give her a break? Can't she make a simple question about a holiday without the risk of her history coming running to contaminate everything? Certainly Nick feels bad about asking what, for him, is a totally normal question. But what's normal for her, right? Ever? And she feels bad about him feeling bad and about herself feeling bad, and suddenly it's too much to handle.

Breathe, Sidle. You're in the middle of the hallway. Don't you have a duffle bag full of clothes that need to be cleaned? Good call!

So she turned around and got into the locker room. Barely breathing and totally blind, she opened her locker with a little violence, some would say—-

"Hey!"

Oh, no, Grissom, no.

"I texted you a few minutes ago; I thought you had left already," he continued.

She closed her locker. Breathe. He has nothing to do with it. Nothing. Breathe.

"Nope. But I'm now."

He looked at her.

"Are you upset?", he asked in a low and caring voice.

Four words she had said. What gave her away so easily?

She breathed heavily.

"No, Grissom."

She turned around.

"Are you going home?", he asked at the same fucking time her cellphone vibrated, and she made the mistake to read Nick's message:

"Hey, Sar! Sorry again about earlier; hope you're alright."

My God, why were these people testing her patience so bad? She had to leave; her breathing was heavier by the minute, her heart pounding, feeling nauseous. If she wasn't young, she'd probably be worried about having a heart attack.

"Why are you even working on Christmas?!", she asked for no reason at all.

Grissom was truly and 100% confused at this point.

"Wha-? That's why you are upset?"

God help her. Even with so little air in her lungs and oxygen in her brain, she managed to just mumble that she was going home, turn around, and finally leave that lab and those people. But, she realized, not those problems. So she cried all the way home, cried while parked, cried while riding the elevator with some stranger, and cried when she realized that she had forgotten her duffel bag with her dirty clothes. What a mess. She went directly to the bathroom, where she stripped and took a long and hot shower, taking her time with her oils and creams. When it was finally over, she was under the impression a lifetime had passed.

Which proved to be kind of true. Her breathing had returned to normal. And instead of feeling sick, she was feeling a little hungry. Still a little sad, though, but better than before.

She'd call Grissom, apologize, and then answer Nick, telling him to just forget about the whole damn thing. And move on.

But life had other plans because when she opened the bathroom door, Grissom was already there. And as if knowing she'd be hungry, there was a lot of food on the table. Looking closer, though…

"Is it…?"

"Christmas food!", he told her.

"It's-a-lot."

There was a mix of candy, vegetarian dishes, breads, cookies, pies, truffles. It looked delicious, she'd give that.

"Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away." He then looked at her. "I thought you'd like it."

"I do, I do! I was actually getting hungry. There's a lot here I never tried before, but I'm sure I'm going to love it," she truly smiled at him then, and leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you."

"You never tried before," he repeated.

"Yeah, yeah… Christmas was never a… tradition," she shrugged. "So, uh… Can I try?"

"Of course, dear, it's for you."

"Thanks," she said, taking his hand, while picking some of the food from the table. It was really delicious and colorful. Gil was also enjoying eating by her side, holding her hand, separating from her just when they really needed both hands, but soon joining them again.

"God, this was great; thanks again," she said smiling, all heaviness from before long forgotten.

"We can repeat it the day after Christmas, which we both have off. We can go to the grocery store together this time. And, of course, we can repeat it for the rest of our lives," he said, dropping a kiss on her shoulder at the end of the last line, and then another kiss on the top of her head.

Christmas for the rest of our lives.

And then he disappeared into their room for a moment to reappear a few minutes later with a little box wrapped in gift paper.

"For you!"

For the second time that day, her heart sank. Now, a Christmas gift! She didn't deserve it at all.

"I was more than content with the food, Gil. It's too much, really," she said looking at the gift in her hands.

"It's not, Sara, you deserve much more. Please, open your gift."

It was so well wrapped; it probably took a lot of work. She tried her best to keep the paper intact, taking forever to open it. Gil waited patiently by her side, his hand resting on her thigh. When it was finally unwrapped…

"Oh, my!", was all she could say.

"Do you like it?"

"I…" - love it? Am amazed by it? Am very thankful for it? "Yeah, absolutely! This is amazing, Gil," she turned to kiss him, "thank you so much."

"It will be nice for your running."

"It will be!", she couldn't stop smiling.

She took the Garmin Forerunner out of the box and contemplated the piece. It was the first GPS watch for runners. It was very professional and so very cool.

"Tomorrow we can test it outside," she told him excitedly.

"We sure can, dear."

She kissed him one more time.

"Do you want your gift now or after shift?", she asked.

"Why wait?"

"Why indeed?", she said, kissing him lightly before standing up. When she got to their bedroom and, like he did, returned a few minutes later with his gift. Unlike him, though, she had asked the store attendant to make the wrapping.

"Well, I brought you two gifts. One for yourself, which I will give you after shift, and this one that we can share - if you want, of course," she explained.

For some reason, Gil laughed.

"What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing. I brought two for you too. One for sharing, if you want, of course, which I'll give you after shift, and this one for yourself," he said pointing to the Garmin on the table.

She raised an eyebrow at him before handing him the gift. It was much easier to open since it was a very nice bag, but just a bag after all. He took off from inside an equally very fancy Macallan 15 Years Whiskey box, that made his jaw drop. Well done, Sidle.

As suggested, they shared a glass, and every penny was definitely worth it. Even her not being a great fan of whiskey had to say that it was a totally different story, nothing compared to the ones she had tried. Although the time they were spending doing their own Christmas was so good, she wouldn't be able to sleep without apologizing.

"Gil…"

"Yes, honey?"

"I'm really sorry about earlier today. I was… Well, upset. I… For nothing, what's worse."

"Nothing? It wasn't nothing," when she looked at him questionably, he explained that "Nick said he felt like he had crossed a line with you when I crossed paths with him in the hallway. He didn't tell me the whole story, and I didn't ask, but I do know how to sum up 1+1."

There was a comfortable silence between them. Her head in his shoulder, his hand playing with her hair. His heart beating softly under her palm. She could stay like this forever and never get tired.

"I wish I was—"

"Don't say that," he interrupted. He kept his hand on the top of her hair, but moved a little to look at her. "Don't say that. Bad things have happened to you, things that leave a mark, and we have to learn how to deal with it. That's all. But being different… No. You're amazing, and I love every single aspect of you."

The Garmin that she wears nowadays was a gift given by him as well, years later, when they launched a new model, much more modern, very similar to a digital watch. It is also very cool and gives her a lot of info about her running development. "I feel like a pro," she had told him. But that first one is special, still well preserved and kept safe - in her memories and in her closet.

And as she fastened the watch to her wrist, she couldn't help but laugh, remembering the rest of that Christmas. The second gift she had bought just for him was a book of over 500 pages, a special edition on Mosquitoes and their role in the world. Quite interesting - because yes, she ended up reading it too. Meanwhile, the second gift he bought for her, one that she could share with him if she wanted, was an exquisite lace lingerie set, paired with a silk robe. Wearing the ensemble that day and looking at herself in the mirror, she recalls never feeling so beautiful. And when she stepped out of the bathroom to share the gift with him, she had never felt so desired.

There's no way she could ever hate Gil Grissom.