Back when I was writing Dilemma, I wrote a couple of chapters that were too dramatic to be included in what was essentially, a light-hearted story. At the time I said I would turn those chapters into a separate story, but I kept putting it off until now.

The story might make more sense if you read the first chapters of Dilemma (up to chapter 10), but it's not really necessary. In Dilemma, Grissom made all the right choices. He doesn't fare as well in here. There'll be a happy ending, though –as always! ; )

This story starts towards the end of "Spellbound", a great G/G episode. There was tension between Gil & Greg - right from the start. Gil was slightly pissed off at Greg for taking Warrick's place at an investigation. This reaction seemed a bit extreme, and so I came up with an explanation here.

Spoiler: Spellbound, of course.

The phrase that Grissom quotes is from the short story "Ocean Avenue," by Michael Chabon.

The story is told from Grissom's POV

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A DIFFERENT DILEMMA

Prologue:

Our investigation into the murder of psychic Sedona Wylie had concluded. With her killer in custody, I went to my office to write my report. I wasn't yet half-through, when Greg came by, ostensibly to discuss some last-minute details. We ended up talking about the supernatural undertones of the case –he was a believer and I was not- but after a moment we grew silent, and simply stared at each other.

As I looked at him, I was reminded of something I read a long time ago: If you can still see how you could once have loved a person, you are still in love; an extinct love is always wholly incredible.

I was still in love, then.

I wondered if he still feel the same about me.

He smiled faintly at me. He was sitting back, with his legs stretched under my desk, smiling faintly and generally acting as if my old visitor's chair were the most comfortable chair he'd ever sat on.

He was completely at ease, while I felt awkward and uncomfortable.

"It was fun, working together again." He said, "We hadn't done that, lately."

He was right. We hadn't worked together for a while now, and if it had depended on me, he would not have worked on the Sedona Wyley case, either; I had specifically paged Warrick and got Greg instead.

Warrick later told me that Greg had talked him into letting him work on the case, citing a life-long desire to work on a psychic's death. Greg had even offered to take over Warrick's shift on the next holiday, and that was an offer that Warrick just couldn't refuse.

"It'll cost me Thanksgiving this year," Greg said ruefully now, "But that's ok. After all, Warrick has someone to go home to and I don't."

I glanced down.

This was precisely why I had avoided Greg lately: I was afraid that any conversation we started might turn personal. The wounds left by our short-lived relationship were still fresh, and talking wasn't going to do any good. Looking at him didn't help, either -it only reminded me of my loss.

"I have a confession to make," Greg said, and he waited until I looked up. "I went to that strip club just to make you jealous." He smiled sheepishly. "Pathetic, huh?"

"It was effective." I admitted unguardedly.

Greg seemed surprised.

"Was it?" he asked, "You didn't look like you cared much."

Well, I'm good at holding back my feelings -as he should know by now.

"I mean…" he hesitated, "You look at peace with yourself, Grissom. You've put a huge distance between us, and you act as if that's just the way you want things to be."

I took a deep breath.

"Greg… I know I haven't been handling this well -" I hesitated, "I'm sorry -"

"It's all right," he said good-naturedly, "I forgive you."

I looked up sharply. He was still smiling, and after a moment I reluctantly smiled back.

He sighed.

"I just wish we could, you know, talk about this." He said. "The thing is…" he hesitated, "I've missed you."

I looked at him –really looked at him. He was thinner, and dark shadows lurked under his eyes -the tell-tale signs of insomnia. I suddenly pictured him laying on his bed, unable to sleep, thinking of me. At least, that's what I had been doing these past weeks; laying awake, thinking of him and wondering whether he was alone…

I took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry about all this." I said regretfully. "Sometimes I wish that nothing had changed between us –at all. Then we wouldn't be in a mess."

"Oh, I don't know," he said, mustering a faint smile. "I think we had a lot of fun."

Being with him was fun. But it was scary, too -at least for me. The truth was, I had a different idea of what being with Greg was going to be like. I thought our encounters would be strictly reduced to sex –at his place or at some anonymous motel. I could picture us having a quick meal together now and then, or even going to the movies, but that was as far as I envisioned myself going with him.

But his plans were slightly different. Before I knew it, he was introducing me to his family and his friends, and it suddenly dawned on me that I was in a Relationship and that I was expected to reciprocate.

I didn't.

I let him come to my place -as a sort of compensation, I guess. He was placated –no; he was flattered. Grateful, even. I'd opened my home to him –surely, it was a significant gesture from me.

What he didn't know was that having him there made me uneasy, and that I needed to keep an eye on him at all times.

"You know…" Greg said now, "We could give it a try again, Grissom. I mean… It was only a break, not a break-up. And I'd try not to screw things up this time."

"It wasn't your fault." I said.

"It's got to be someone's," Greg replied, "And no, I'm not blaming you." He added. "I was going too fast, I can see that now."

It wasn't his fault. Greg was more than willing to accommodate my quirks. He gave me all the space I needed, and yet I kept demanding more and more, until one day he looked at me and said, "You know what? Maybe we should take a break."

I briefly closed my eyes, just like I did every time I recalled that moment. I still remembered the look in his eyes, too: There was hope in it. Greg, the eternal optimist really thought I would say something like 'no, wait, we can make this work,' something that could save our relationship. Instead, I simply said, "Yeah, maybe."

At the time, it seemed the right thing to say. In my mind, we were headed to a break-up anyway; it seemed that prolonging the inevitable would only make things messier in the end. I thought I was salvaging the best part of what Greg and me had: our working relationship.

But of course, it wasn't that simple. After the break-up, our relationship as coworkers grew stilted and awkward. There was no easy camaraderie between us anymore, no playful banter. I started to avoid him and after a while, I simply started sending him on the field with Sara.

Sara, who knew about Greg and me.

Sara, who acknowledged our relationship by extending us a Valentine's Day invitation. She simply wanted us to join her and Warrick for a quiet celebration, but her invitation went unheeded because I couldn't be open about that part of my life, yet. I never would.

Sara forgave me then, but she didn't forgive me for hurting Greg. She didn't say anything, but I could tell she was disappointed on me. But that was nothing new.

"It wasn't your fault," I repeated.

"Ah, it doesn't matter whose fault it was," he said dismissively, "What matters is that we learned something from this, don't you think?"

I learned that loving someone wasn't enough to keep a relationship going.

Tiredly, I sat back in my chair. I didn't want to talk about this anymore. But I wanted to make amends. I wished there was something I could do for Greg, or something I could give him.

And then I remembered that I did have something for him.

I opened up a file.

"You know that singer that Wallace was working for? Joslyn Raines?" I glanced at Greg, "I met her, the other day."

His eyes widened.

"You did?"

"Yeah," I said smugly, "In fact, I managed to get her autograph." I picked up a sheet of paper, "I thought you might like to have it."

I was stretching the truth, but he didn't seem to doubt my word. He eagerly took the paper and examined the signature.

"Wow, this is great, Grissom." He glanced mischievously at me, "I wonder how much this could get me on E-bay…"

"Hey, if you sell it, I want half," I replied, "I had to beg her for it, you know."

He smiled and, once again, I found myself smiling back. It felt like old times.

We were still looking at each other, when I got a call.

It was Det. Vartann, with news about a robbery. I immediately paged Warrick and then I rose to leave.

Greg rose, too.

"Can I come?" he asked eagerly.

"You're not on call tonight." I pointed out. "You've been up for what –fifteen, sixteen hours?"

"So?" he replied, "Oh, come on. Let me come along. Who knows? Maybe this time my psychic powers will kick in and help you solve the case."

I looked at him. He was still smiling.

I should have pulled rank and forced him to go home, but all I could think of was how much I'd missed him, and how much I was enjoying the return of our old friendship.

I suppose I was afraid that if I let him go, our tenuous truce would come to an end.

So, instead of sending him home, I smiled reluctantly and said, "All right," thus starting the chain of events that led to a nightmare.

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TBC