I just wanna say thanks to everyone who read and especially reviewed. Your comments have meant a lot to me and this has been a fun story to write, though it took longer than I had thought it would. I apologize for this chapter taking like… friggin 3 weeks but I have been uber busy. Plus I had to get my ficathon entry done. But here is the last chapter and I hope you enjoy it.


Chapter Ten: In Retrospect

Sara sat, legs stretched in front of her, in the middle of her bedroom floor. Half-packed boxes were strewn about her room, giving her a slightly anxious feeling. It was almost a month after her abduction and near death in the Mojave Desert and she and Grissom were finally going to start moving her things from her place to his.

She lay down on the floor and looked underneath her bed. There were various shoeboxes and a slim, Rubbermaid box neatly arranged and she stuck an arm in and tugged the Rubbermaid box out from under the bed. After straightening herself, she unlatched the top and peered in, unsure of exactly what she would find.

Stacked efficiently were file folders with precise labels of different courses Sara had taken in college. She flipped the top one open that read "Relativity and Cosmology," and her eyes glanced over the piece of paper on top. It was the syllabus from the class, all five pages of it, still in perfect condition as if she had taken the class only several months ago instead of fifteen or so years ago.

Sara chuckled to herself and flipped through the other folders. All of the papers were exactly the same way. She had always been very tidy.

Except…

She smiled at the memory and reclined down on the floor again to examine the contents underneath the bed. Sure enough, there was a rather tattered blue and white Adidas shoebox. She pulled it out with a little effort and sat back up, setting the box gingerly on her lap. She lifted the top of the box. Sure enough, there was the folded up piece of paper tucked in between a worn photo of her and her brother at a pool somewhere she couldn't remember, and a Cranberries concert ticket. It was folded so it was small enough to fit into the box with all of her other worn, special possessions. It had been a long while since she had looked at the contents of this box, but all of the carefully placed objects looked as familiar to her as if she looked at them every day.

Sara pulled the folded paper from the box and stretched it out. It was the syllabus from the week-long forensics seminar Grissom had taught in San Francisco.

The first time they had met.

A broad smile crossed her lips as she skimmed the familiar words on the page. She remembered the day clearly. It was one of her fondest memories.

- - -

Nervously, she tapped the pen against the top of the desk as she watched the students clear the room. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and looked down at the syllabus in front of her. It wasn't much of a syllabus. It was only a one-week seminar on techniques in forensics, so it was only a few pages long.

It was a continuing education seminar, like a refresher course, that she was only taking for lack of anything else to do. She hardly ever slept or went out anymore now that she wasn't in school, so when the opportunity to attend a forensics seminar presented itself, she hopped on board.

Her co-worker had mentioned that she had heard the speaker before and he was pretty boring. But… her friend had been wrong, in her opinion.

Dr. Gil Grissom was anything but boring. The entire hour and a half that he had been speaking, her eyes had remained locked on him and her ears had taken in every word. He might have been a bit dry at times, but something about the way words rolled off of his tongue and the way he casually paced in front of the room… he exuded a certain confidence and passion that impressed her to no end.

She felt compelled to speak with him and scoffed at the butterflies that began flitting around in her stomach the moment he thanked everyone for being such a lovely audience and sent them on their way. She had asked a handful of questions at the end of the lecture, but she really felt the need to speak to him personally. She couldn't explain it.

So when everyone else that had surrounded him had left, she stood from the chair and walked the short distance down the aisle. He was fitting a few notebooks and papers into a briefcase, completely unaware of her as she neared him. She had reluctantly been sitting quite far from the front of the room, so she had only been able to make out his general features, but as she walked closer she couldn't help but admire how attractive he was. His hair was short and curly, slightly gray. He wore a light blue dress shirt underneath a dark sports coat. She stopped a few feet from him and he looked up at her questionably, seemingly surprised that anyone was still in the lecture hall.

She swallowed nervously and gave an equally nervous smile. "Hi… I just wanted to tell you how interesting I thought your talk was. I really enjoyed it."

"Oh. Well, thank you," he replied and smiled politely. "Those were very interesting questions you were asking, Miss..?"

"Sidle. Sara Sidle." She reached her hand out and he took it, giving it a gentle shake. She glanced down at his left had, looking for a wedding band. Nope.

His hand lingered longer than it should have perhaps and she couldn't help but feel a strange spark ignite inside of her as her eyes locked with his and his hand encompassed hers. She pushed the thought away, slightly disturbed by the banality of it, a "spark," she scoffed inwardly, and simply gave him a courteous smile. He was smiling too and his eyes narrowed and he dropped his hand quickly as if embarrassed of how long he had held on to hers, but otherwise he remained unruffled. She bit her lip and wondered where the bout of awkwardness had come from. It was just a handshake after all.

He cleared his throat and closed his briefcase. "Well, Miss Sidle, it was certainly nice to have such an inquisitive mind in the audience. It makes my job seem a little more worth while." He gave a crooked grin. "Of course, your questions were a little advanced for this particular lecture."

Sara chuckled and shrugged. "What can I say, I was inspired." A few seconds passed as they smiled at each other and Sara wondered if he thought she was flirting with him then decided that he wouldn't really be in the wrong if he did because she seemed to be doing it subconsciously. "Well, ah, you mentioned entomology a few times and I saw on the syllabus that you're in expert in that discipline."

"That's right," he said without arrogance, merely to confirm her statement.

"I know a little bit about it, but not really enough. Unfortunately, we don't have a resident entomologist in our lab. But I think it would be important to know more about forensic entomology. I hope you'll go into more detail in your lectures."

His eyebrows came together and he cocked his head to the side, a questioning smile on his face. "You're a CSI, then?"

"Yes. That surprises you?"

A small laugh escaped his throat and he leaned on the podium casually. She was suddenly very aware of how attracted she was becoming to the man in front of her and it began to make her slightly tense.

He shook his head from side to side and shrugged. "No, it doesn't surprise me. I'm not sure why I assumed you were a student. I just did."

"Well, do we ever truly cease to be students?" she asked with a grin and watched as he raised his eyebrows.

"No… no I guess not."

Another strangely tense moment passed and Sara ran a hand through her brown, curly locks. She looked back up at him and smiled. "Yeah, right now I'm at the San Francisco Crime Lab. I have been for a few years now."

"Oh, okay," he said, nodding, "I consulted a case there once, some years ago. Nice lab, good equipment. Are you, ah, dayshift or nightshift?"

"Dayshift, but, really… I'm there all of the time anyway, so…"

"I know what you mean," he said with a casual laugh and an understanding smile. He grabbed his briefcase from the table and held it by his side. A gesture that she took to mean he needed to go.

"Well, I don't want to keep you, Doctor Grissom—"

"Please," he said, shooting her an earnest look, "drop the 'Doctor.' I've never been able to get used to it. And you aren't keeping me from anything." A smile crossed his face and he looked slightly inhibited for a moment before adding, "Actually… ah, I won't be able to go into too much detail when it comes to forensic entomology. It goes beyond the scope of this seminar." He shrugged.

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Yes," he said at once, "that is too bad, but…" he paused and raised his eyebrows, "if you'd like, I'd be happy to go over at least the basics with you over the course of the week. When you have time."

She hadn't expected this and the prospect of spending time alone with this man made her stomach flutter for a moment, which she hated. Because, after all, the time offered was purely academic. She chastised herself for the ridiculous schoolgirl crush she was cultivating, but she reminded herself that there was something, something, different about this guy that she couldn't quite figure out.

So, she flashed him a thankful smile and responded, "Really? Wow, that would be great. Are you sure you have the time?"

He gave a short and low chuckle, looking away for a moment. "To be honest, this is my vacation. I have nothing but time, Miss Sidle."

She pursed her lips and struggled not to appear flirty, but wasn't quite sure if she succeeded. "Please, call me Sara."

- - -

Sara was drawn from her thoughts by the sound of keys hitting the countertop in the kitchen and paper bags rustling. She smiled down at the piece of paper. It was hard to believe that the same man that had so politely and professionally offered his time to her those many years ago, was the same man that she was sharing her life with now. It had taken so much time to get here, so much effort. It had been rather painful at times, but in retrospect, it had been worth it.

To be honest, if anyone had told the young, lively brunette that the love of her life would be the mysterious older man that had taught her the basics of forensic entomology, she would have rolled her eyes and told them that it was an ephemeral crush. Her deeper feelings for Grissom hadn't really developed until she had come to Las Vegas and spent almost every day by his side.

Before then, it had been a casual friendship, a careless attraction that she had been completely capable of reasoning. She didn't know him really at all, but she admired him. His passion, his intellect. And of course, he was physically attractive. But it was nothing serious.

Until she moved to Vegas.

Sara shook her head and lifted herself carefully from the floor and onto the bed. Her legs were still kind of sore, but she walked as much as she could. Grissom liked to take care of her and he worried a lot. She kind of liked it, though.

Just as she sat down on the bed, Grissom appeared in the doorway. "Hey. There's a carton of vegetable Lo mein with your name on it in the kitchen."

She chuckled. "Thanks."

"Unless you want to eat it in here." He paused. "I can bring it to you."

"No," Sara said, shaking her head, "I'm sick of looking at this mess." She gestured at all of the open boxes scattered about the room. "I'm coming in there."

"Okay," he said softly, then added with a bit of carefulness, "Want some help?"

She smiled at him, a small, genial smile and shook her head. "I'll be in there in a minute, thank you."

After looking at her for a moment with a worried expression he tried to hide with a smile, he nodded and disappeared from the doorway.

Sara looked back down at the paper and slowly stood from the bed. Carrying the piece of paper with her, she walked from the room and into the kitchen. Grissom was emptying the contents of the Chinese food cartons onto plates and she stopped to look at him, trying to compare him to the man she had met on September 9, 1998. He looked older and a bit careworn, but warmer and she wondered if he looked warmer to everyone or just her. And she wondered if she had anything to do with the warmth, and with a bout of unusual self-assurance, she decided that, yes, she had.

The Gil Grissom she had met nine years ago hadn't been cold, but he had been a lot more closed off and much more enigmatic. He would always be a bit of an enigma, even to her, but now she understood a lot of what made him tick and why he experienced life the way he did. Back then, he had been less understood and she knew that that had sparked her interest from the beginning and created a bit of a crush.

Sometime after that, she could never be sure of the exact date or time period, she had fallen very much in love with him. Sometime, she had become excruciatingly aware that it was no longer a harmless crush. That had been the painful part.

But here they were now and he was in love with her too.

Grissom looked up at her across the room and his eyebrows lifted in question. He cocked his head to the side and a smile tugged at his lips. "What?" he asked her.

She realized she was smiling and staring openly at him and she walked slowly across the room, limping slightly, and leaned over the countertop across from him. She placed the nine-year old piece of paper down. "Check out what I found."

His eyes narrowed and he brought the paper up to read. He removed his reading glasses from his pocket and put them on. The moment his eyes focused on the letters, a broad smile crossed his face. One that showed teeth. The kind of smile that made her heart thump against her chest in little, quick beats.

"My syllabus," he said simply and looked up at her over his glasses. "Which you kept."

Sara shrugged. "Of course. I've kept every single syllabus from every single class I've ever taken."

His eyes glanced back down at the paper, delight still evident on his face. "So I shouldn't feel special, then."

Sara grinned at him and rounded the counter. He turned to face her and she gently removed the glasses from his face, placing them on the countertop. Her arms encircled his waist and he looked at her curiously with a small grin.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. This particular syllabus wasn't with the rest of them," she said, placing a kiss on his lips and leaning back to look at him.

She was surprised at how much she was smiling these days, in light of rather recent events. But she felt loved and happy and if being trapped under that car had taught her anything, it was that the precious time she had should be spent making pleasant and happy memories that she could look back on in times of distress.

Grissom pulled her to him and kissed her just above her right ear, then drew her into a loving hug.

"Grissom?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you remember about the first day we met?" she asked, her voice muffled by the cotton of his sweater.

A moment passed and he answered, "I remember everything about the first day we met, Sweetheart." He paused and began running his hand soothingly over her back. "You captivated me from the moment I heard your voice."

Her ear was resting just over his heart and she could hear the beats quicken as he talked. She pulled back, compelled to see his eyes, and looked at him. "Really?"

"Really," he said softly.

"Because I'd say the same thing about you."

He placed a kiss on her forehead, his hands holding her head gently, and drew back with a satisfied grin on his face. He took their plates from the counter and placed them on the small table a few feet away.

"I'm curious," Sara said while she walked towards the table, "If I had asked you to dinner in San Francisco, what would you have said?"

"Dinner, like a date?"

Sara laughed. "Yes. Like a date."

He contemplated this for a moment while he filled two glasses with water and walked over to the table. He sat down and took a breath. "I think I would have said yes."

"Honestly?"

"Yes. Honestly."

"Why would you have said yes in San Francisco, but turn me down here?" she asked as casually as possible. After all, she didn't want it to appear as though she was picking old scabs. She really was just curious.

He seemed unperturbed by the reference and he replied after giving it some thought, "I suppose because… I would have assumed that I'd never see you again after I left San Francisco. Therefore, one dinner with you wouldn't have been much of a threat."

Sara pursed her lips and smiled crookedly, twirling the Lo mein noodles on her fork. She understood precisely what he meant. "I see."

"That probably sounds bad," he said and frowned.

"No, it makes sense, actually."

He merely looked at her in question, chewing slowly.

"I mean, I was actually going to ask you out for that reason. I didn't think I would ever see you again," Sara said, looking up at him and shrugging one shoulder.

He swallowed his food and took a sip of water. "You were going to ask me out?"

Sara nodded, surprised that he was surprised, and placed the forkful of perfectly twirled noodles between her teeth.

"Why didn't you?"

Sara took a long sip of her water and set it down. She laughed quietly to herself and looked up at him. She shrugged and gave him a coy smile, twisting the noodles around the twines of her fork and stabbing a large piece of broccoli with it.

- - -

"I know this is a lot to take it, but just bare with me," Grissom said as he leaned over the large corkboard with bow flies pinned to it in various stages of life.

Sara blushed, afraid he had seen her yawn. For the past five days, Grissom had been meeting up with her at various neutral places and teaching her the basics of forensic entomology and its uses. Some of the things she had already known, some were new, and she appreciated the fact that he seemed to genuinely enjoy instructing her. She tried not to read into it too much, that he was willing to take his free time for her. The more time she spent with Grissom, the more interested she became in what he had to say. Everything about him was beginning to fascinate her. Everything about him that she didn't know… she wanted to know.

But every woman was fascinated by a mysterious man, anyway, she thought, so she ignored the slight crush she was developing on the older man beside her and tried to focus on what he was saying instead of how he was saying it.

But his voice. It's just so inadvertently sexy.

"Out of curiosity, Grissom," she said and he looked over at her, "Do you always carry this corkboard of flies with you when you travel?" She grinned at him playfully.

He straightened himself, his face inexpressive, and replied, "Of course."

Sara laughed and slid off of the stool, stretching a little bit. "Entomologists are an odd sort."

Grissom let out a small chuckle and turned to face her, leaning against the layout table. "You should see my roaches."

He was grinning at her, a subtle, but flirty grin, and Sara felt the butterflies flutter around her stomach for a moment. They stared at each other for a second while Sara gathered the courage to ask him to dinner.

"Grissom—"

She was cut off by the sound of her supervisor's voice, "Is that Gil Grissom? Well I'll be damned! Why didn't anyone tell me there was an entomologist in the building?"

Grissom turned around to face him with a crooked smile on his face. "Ted Leonard. How've you been?"

Ted stuck his hand out as he neared Grissom, a playful smile smeared across Sara's supervisor's face that she was used to seeing. She adored Ted, but he had the worst timing. They shook hands and Sara observed the drastic differences between the men. Ted was a short, stocky man with white, wavy hair and a full beard while Grissom was a bit taller and slimmer than him and his curly hair still had a lot of its natural brownish color. As far as personality went, these two men were world's apart. Ted was boisterous and loud whereas Grissom was reserved and subtle. But they seemed to be old, good friends the way they were talking and Sara didn't mind watching them interact because it helped her learn more about Grissom.

"I've just been helping Sara here," he said as he gestured towards her and the bulletin board, "understand the basics of forensic entomology."

"Well you must be boring her to tears!" Ted said with a laugh.

Grissom gave a shake of his head and looked over at Sara with a grin. "I hope not."

Sara shook her head and laughed. "Grissom was the lecturer of the seminar I attended. He was so interesting, I decided to hire him as my personal entomology tutor."

Ted let out a short and loud laugh, then his face turned suddenly serious. "Oh, yeah. That's right. I heard you were in town leading a forensics seminar. How's that goin'?"

"It went very well. My last one was this afternoon."

Ted was shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Lemme guess, this was your vacation?"

"Yes, actually," Grissom replied with a good-natured smiled. "You have me figured out, Ted."

Ted snapped his fingers and pointed at Grissom. "Some things never change."

A young lab tech leaned into the room and cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt—"

"No, you're alright. What can we do for ya?" Ted asked him.

"We got a hit, sir. Results are on your desk."

"Thanks Daniel. I appreciate it."

"No problem," he replied and disappeared down the hall.

Ted turned to Grissom and Sara and shook his head. "Duty calls."

"Of course," Grissom said in an understanding tone.

"But anyway, Gil, let me know before you leave town and we'll go out for a drink or somethin', alright?" He shook Grissom's hand again and gave a wink and a wave to Sara.

"Will do, Ted."

"Bye now."

Sara was reluctantly relieved when she was left alone with Grissom again. He turned and looked at her, his face still fixed in a reminiscent smile.

"He's quite a character," Grissom said, shaking his head.

"You're telling me," Sara replied with a chuckle. "He's great, though. A great boss."

She hoped Grissom would fill in a bit of information about how he knew Ted and how long. Or when he had been in San Francisco and consulted a case for the very lab she worked at now. She wondered had she been here and just never ran into him.

But if she had seen him, she doubted she would have forgotten.

Grissom turned back to the board and leaned on the layout table, letting out a long sigh. "Where were we?" he asked.

"Ah… actually," Sara paused and he looked up at her, his eyebrows raised. Suddenly, his eyebrows came together in puzzlement and he reached into his pocket, pulling out his pager.

He read the screen on the pager and looked back up at her. "I just need to make a quick phone call. I'll be right back," he said with a slightly apologetic look about him.

"No problem. Take your time," she replied nonchalantly. Inwardly, Sara rolled her eyes at the timing.

He returned a few minutes later with a slightly sad and hesitant smile. His hands came up in a helpless gesture and she looked at him with an inquisitive grin.

"Sara, I apologize, but I we're going to have to cut this short. That was my supervisor. I have to get back to Vegas as soon as possible."

Sara tried not to look quite a crestfallen as she felt, but she frowned anyway and nodded, "Oh, that's too bad."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry," he said, sounding just as disappointed as she did. Genuinely disappointed and she allowed herself to take delight in that.

Sara smiled and waved her hand at him. "Grissom, you've been very informative. I'm grateful. Thank you very much."

His eyes flicked downward then back up at her, that unhappy smile still settled on his face, and he nodded. "You're welcome. It's been fun."

Something had fallen over them that she couldn't explain what it was. He was casual enough when he spoke, but the way he looked at her made her think he understood the attraction… or whatever it was… that they were sharing. The room felt heavy and for the first time since she had shaken his hand days ago, Sara felt genuinely awkward around Grissom. She racked her brain for something to say to fill the uneasy silence, but couldn't think of anything so she looked at her feet and smiled uncomfortably.

It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like a lot longer.

Grissom cleared his throat suddenly and she looked up at him, somewhat embarrassed by her inability to appear offhand. And slightly embarrassed by the fact that she had spent only a handful of days with this man, and she was suddenly just realizing that she didn't want him to go.

She wasn't just disappointed to see him leave. She really didn't want him to go.

It was… unsettling.

Sara took in a breath and gave the most relaxed smile she could, though she knew it probably looked rather tense. "Do you need a ride?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in question and her fingers tapping nervously on the table.

He regarded her for a moment, his head cocked to the side. His lips turned down as he turned the simple question over in his head.

"I mean… I know you took a cab here. I could give you a ride to the airport," she added, "If you want."

Grissom nodded and she watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he gave a swallow. His smile was genuine and appreciative as he responded, "Thank you. I'd appreciate that, Sara."

- - -

"I think it's a good thing, though… all in all..." Sara said slowly, her voice fading a bit. She glanced up slowly to meet his pensive eyes.

He pursed his lips and dragged the fork along his plate idly. "That you never asked me out?"

"Right."

Grissom nodded, vaguely a movement, and slid a forkful of food in his mouth. He was looking down at his plate and she wondered what he was thinking as the silence fell over them. His face was serious and he was frowning in his concentration.

A halting laugh escaped her throat and she realized she was smiling as she watched him think. "Aren't you going to ask me why?" she asked him lightheartedly.

He looked up at her, eyebrows raised, and shrugged. "I agree with you."

"Oh." She frowned against her will, not really knowing why she was frowning in the first place.

Grissom's lips drew inward tightly for a moment and they locked eyes. Gradually, he grinned at her and cocked his head to the side. His eyes flicked downward then back up to meet hers quickly and she cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Okay then, why do you think it was a good thing?" she asked him, grinning back bit by bit.

A slow intake of breath by Grissom immediately followed her question and he tipped his head backwards and leaned back in the chair, his hands absent mindedly tearing his egg roll apart. It looked like he was looking at the ceiling for cue cards and she smirked as his face contorted in concentration. He did this a lot when he thought it was really necessary to think his answers over and she always waited patiently for them because it was, more often than not, worth it.

"Because," he drawled out and leveled his head with her, "If I had had dinner with you… that would have been it. Dinner and… I would have never seen you again." He frowned and cast his hands up in a discouraging gesture. His eyes left hers and settled on the plate before him. He added a bit quieter, "I know that about myself."

Sara sighed at the sudden somberness and though her face might have looked sad, she wasn't. She smiled at him and leisurely removed herself from the chair. His eyes followed her as she walked over to him. Hands rested lightly on the sides of his face and she bent down to kiss him. She kissed the corner of his mouth gently and felt his lips move upward as he smiled against hers. Scooting his chair out, his hands found her hips and he drew her into his lap. Sara conceded and rested her head on his shoulder as he sighed and gripped her body tighter, his fingers lacing together around her waist.

After a long, intimate moment, Sara asked quietly, her breath against his neck, "Did you think you would never see me again?"

Grissom tensed and swallowed hard and she wondered when he didn't answer if he was thinking about some other time. Other than San Francisco. A time when she thought she would never see him again. That time seem even further away than September of 1998 and she was glad for that because she was ashamed at ever thinking she never would see Grissom again. That he wouldn't find her. She had a rough time admitting that she had lost faith while she was out there in the desert.

It had been rough.

But, she was hardly one to offer herself a little leeway so she just didn't talk about it and hoped it would just go away eventually. Sometimes it worked.

Finally, Grissom's rough voice broke into her grave thoughts and his quiet, sincere voice was heartening. "I had every intention of seeing you again, Sara." He paused for a moment then added thoughtfully, "I don't think I even realized that back then."

Sara lifted her head to look at him and smiled at how serene he seemed all of a sudden. Her fingers found the curls on the back of his neck and she lazily toyed with them and he pulled her in for a kiss. His lips fell on hers and she closed her eyes as slow, intense warmth encompassed her.

He pulled back and licked his lips, opening his eyes to look at her. A grin spread across his face and his hand moved from the back of her neck to cradle the side of her face. His thumb lovingly traced a path down the bridge of her nose. Delightfully, she pursed her lips and his thumb landed on them. She gave it a kiss and he laughed, pulling her back to him in a hug.

She laughed, too, and said, "I think you might have known back then…. If only a little."

- - -

"And if you never stop when you wave goodbye
You just might find if you give it time you will wave hello again
You just might wave hello again"

"Wheel" (John Mayer)

- - -

They walked through the airport at a reasonable pace. Grissom's flight wasn't for another forty-five minutes and Sara hadn't really offered to see him off, it had been automatic and he had seemed glad enough.

As they walked, conversation was minimal, but Sara didn't feel awkward and she wondered if he did. She really only felt a strange sense of sadness, like something irreplaceable was coming to a close. She wondered if he felt that too.

He glanced over at her with a crooked grin and stopped in his tracks. "Let's get some coffee, shall we?" he said and his voice had a trace of finality to it that settled over her, fueling her feeling of melancholy. He cocked his head when she didn't move or answer right away and jerked his head towards the small airport coffee shop, beckoning her, "Come on."

She smiled politely, but didn't make much attempt to mask her gloom. She berated herself for that when he pressed his lips together in a tight line and cleared his throat uncomfortably. Her polite smile turned into a lighter grin and she walked with him towards the slightly busy coffee shop. They ordered and Grissom paid (to "thank her for the lift") and Sara didn't protest, but thanked him sweetly and… liked how it felt to have him buy her anything.

They sat in the waiting area by the gate and Grissom let out an exaggerated sigh of relief when he sat down in the uncomfortable chair. He sat his modest carry-on suitcase between his feet and looked over at her with a thin smile.

Sara took a breath. "Thanks for everything Grissom, really. I appreciate you taking the time with me like that."

She was thankful. She had learned a great deal from Doctor Grissom in the brief time he had been there. She had found a certain excitement and purpose in his presence that she wasn't quite sure she could ever explain.

"I enjoyed it, I really did," he responded wistfully. "So, you are very welcome."

He brought the small Styrofoam cup to his lips and looked ahead, swallowing gently. Sara took a moment to admire his form and features. Something about Grissom was unique and compelling. Perhaps everything about him was unique and compelling. As she watched his tongue inconspicuously slide over his bottom lip, Sara felt a pull in her stomach as if an actual magnet inside of her was struggling to connect itself to him.

Distraughtly, she shook her head and tried to will the thoughts away. It would do no good to even acknowledge the attraction anymore. It was dangerous. In all probability, she wouldn't see this man for a very long time, if ever again.

The attraction would be fleeting, an impractical thing that she would think back on fondly when someone more reasonable and attainable had filled the hole.

Suddenly, Grissom frowned and slowly turned to her. His mouth opened and he looked down then back up at her, seemingly lost for words. When their eyes locked, though, she felt it—whatever it was—stronger than before. Something stirred and when he sighed, whatever words he had or didn't have passed between them as his acknowledgement of the oddly swift and undeniable attraction.

A short laugh, practically a sigh, escaped her throat and she smiled, not a fake one this time, as he looked at his wristwatch.

"Take care of yourself in Sin City," she said finally and her eyes narrowed as she stood. She felt like she was satisfied and now… she really should go. The smile never left her face and she resisted the urge to rattle off her telephone number and e-mail address. She also resisted the urge to politely tell him that she hoped to see him again. She didn't trust her voice to hide the sincerity, and perhaps urgency, of the statement.

"I'll try," he said and stood up as well. "And you take care of yourself here in San Francisco."

She nodded and stood still, unsure of what to expect from such a man as him. He thrust his hand out, a grin on his face. She took it and the warm reality of his hand made her groan with drear.

"Hopefully, we'll meet again, Sara Sidle."

"Hopefully," she said quickly. "Goodbye Doctor Grissom."

He gave a mock glare at the use of "doctor" and she laughed, glad of the breaking tension.

"Goodbye," he said, lower than she had heard before and another moment later he picked up the bag at his feet and turned on his heel.

When he reached the attendant and gave her his ticket, he looked back at Sara. She brought her hand up and waved. He waved back, a small, personal wave that, combined with the smile on his face, filled her with no small amount of glee. He turned and she continued waving weakly, even as he boarded the airplane.

- - -

Sara pressed her lips to Grissom's forehead and smiled against his skin. He squeezed her hips and she pulled back.

"Actually…" she said absently, extracting herself from his lap. She walked to the bedroom and ignored him as he called out to her.

"Actually, what?" he shouted as she rummaged through the box again.

"Ah hah," she mumbled to herself and pulled her finding from its place in the shoebox. She ambled back into the living room to find him patiently waiting in the same spot, his fingers laced together on his lap and his head cocked to the side in curiosity.

"Actually," she began as she unfolded the small, worn Post-It note in her hand, "I have proof that you knew you wanted to see me again… if only a little." She placed the yellow paper in his hand, knowing he had already identified it by the look on his face.

Grissom chuckled and read the note aloud in a low, murmur, "Sara, it was a pleasure to have met and worked with you. Please don't hesitate to contact me if you need help with a case or otherwise. Grissom."

Sara grinned. "Imagine my surprise when I got back to my car and found this stuck to my steering wheel," she paused and lifted the note from his fingers, reading it over again. "Or otherwise," she gave a short laugh, "How deliberately vague of you, Doctor Grissom."

Grissom nodded. "Yes, quite deliberately," he said quietly. "Quite deliberately."

Sara sat down in the chair beside him and stretched her legs out on either side of his outstretched one. They stared at each other in a companionable silence, complacency remaining between them.

Sara broke the silence with a sigh and said quietly, looking him deep in the eyes, "I thought I'd never see you again, you know…"

She knew that she wasn't really referring to those many years ago in the airport but rather her experience in the desert. She appreciated the camouflage that their conversation had offered her though. She wasn't really ready to talk about that yet.

After a long heavy moment, Sara began wondering if Grissom knew what she was really referring to. The side of his mouth turned upward and his face looked happy as he cocked his head to the side. His hand found hers on the table and he leaned forward, placing a kiss to the back of her hand sweetly.

"Well, Miss Sidle, you should have known better."

End.


Note that my story "A Nightmareless Slumber" was the inspiration for this fic and it can be read as a sort of epilogue, eventhough I wrote it first many many weeks ago.