Ruby Dress, Diamond Tears

The floor length mirror was wrapped in an elegant, ornate wooden frame and stood solemnly in the corner of her dark bedroom. It had been hand-carved in Costa Rica with an intricate, flowing design. For her. From him.

When they had been given it on their wedding day they had been told that it would always reflect back their love for one another. They had called it a looking glass, look into it and you will always find one another. Or so they had said.

It now reflected back at her, hidden beneath the long, figure-hugging blood red dress and beneath the delicate, silver necklace, twisted into the shape of a butterfly, matching the silver and black butterfly clip she had in her hair, the irony of which she could only see now, her sadness was echoed back at her.

It surprised her after all of this time that something as simple as this could elicit those feelings in her, that he could still elicit those feelings in her.

She looked in that mirror every day, but it was only today that it damn near broke her again.

Over the last five years she had come close, so close, so many times. She had had incredible support, Nick, Greg, Russell, everyone. But it was too much. She had left. She had had to leave.

It was strange she thought, why she had kept it. When they had divorced she had let him have almost everything, she didn't want to have to deal with anything that reminded her of him, she wouldn't know what to do with it, would know that she would not have been able to throw them away as she ought to.

But that mirror, for some reason that mirror he had been determined that she should have, that she should keep. And she had. The one time she had asked him why he wanted her to have it he had told her simply,

"So that one day, you will see what they intended you to see in it, you will see yourself happy."

She had been waiting for that day for five years and it had not come yet. Today was definitely not that day.

All of the demons that she had picked up and dealt with in Vegas, and she had dealt with them. Hannah West, she could deal with, Natalie Davis, she had dealt with, the countless abuse and rape cases, the interminable serial killers seeming to become more and more twisted every year, she could deal with. Gil Grissom, she could not.

After everything that had happened in Vegas, she had said that she had gone back for the job, for the people she had left behind. It hadn't been true. She had gone back for him.

It sounded ridiculous, she had left a man to go back to a place where he would never return to in order to find him. He had changed in their marriage, she had changed. She had become Mrs Grissom, completely defined by her husband and living in his shadow and she hadn't been happy, neither of them had. He had been wrapped up in his research, in his books in his funding, he had chosen her over his work but his work had chosen him again. She had left him in the hope to remind them what they had had.

It had worked.

She had found him in Vegas again, remembered every memory she held with him at the heart; every word he had whispered to her between the sheets of this town that had pressed them together; every forbidden kiss he had placed upon her skin; every breath of him trapped in this town that would never let them go.

And he in turn found her in the way he had lost her. In the same way that her video sent from the middle of the ocean, freeing him and letting him go had opened him up and made him realise how much of a fool he was and how madly in love he was with this wonderful, incredible woman who had his heart and was trying to give it back and he would never take it from her. He had realised how much he missed her when she wasn't there, her laugh, her smile, her energy, her spirit, her intelligence, her beauty, her.

They had lived for when they saw one another. They breathed for each other, for the time they could spend together for that excitement, for that hunger, for that adoration that pulled them together and plucked them apart, holding off, denying themselves to improve the rush when it came. They knew they were in love and they hadn't though anything could drag them apart.

But it had.

The distance she had placed between them to draw them together had become just that, distance. The nightly calls had become weekly voicemail messages, the detailed, almost childish emails, became tired and flat and could have been sent between anyone. The visits had dried up until they barely saw each other in the flesh once every few months and when they did all of that love, all of that heat, all of that passion, that fierceness, that desire, that burning, all-consuming hunger that had fuelled them was gone. Replaced by blank, empty distance. In truth, in those times, they were never farther apart than when they were in the same bed.

It had changed again after that, something that had been withering for a long time, despite their best efforts to ignore it, died. And then they could no longer turn a blind eye to the ruins of their relationship.

When the voicemail messages were not accidental but deliberate, avoidance. When she knew that the voice on the other end of the line telling her that Gil Grissom was unavailable and to leave her message, was enough for her. Hearing that automated machine spit out a recording of her husband was all she had to feel close to him. When the visits kept being put off, the inventions of storms and paperwork keeping them apart. When the tears she shared with her pillow were not for the fact that it was ending but for the fact she wished it would because she could no longer do it anymore. It hurt too much. Gil Grissom had hurt her. She still could not quite bring herself to believe that.

Still, she told herself firmly, as she firmly wiped away the tears that had silently slid down her face. Tonight was not about him. It was about seeing her old friends, her old family again, about moving on and forgetting him, learning to love Vegas again, learning to hide from the horrors that that place conjured up for her. God only knew that she had had enough practice at that...

...

He shrugged uncomfortably, the new shirt and suit irritating his skin. He pulled at the collar, attempting to loosen it but without success.

The memory flooded back to him seconds after the words formed in his mind at the sight of the slightly askew bowtie. Even after all these years, he still needed a woman.

And he had had one. In that one little, innocent flashback to the time he had complained that a man who was a renowned expert in his field, was generally considered one of the best criminalists by his peers, and who sat in his condo with his genius level crosswords that were really just advanced, was flabbergasted by the complex sailor's knot that made up the bowtie.

He had complained to Catherine and she had fixed it for him, telling him that he did not need a diagram, he needed a woman. And he did. He needed a woman, but not just any woman, the one he had been privileged enough to call his.

Sara Sidle.

He had not thought about her in so long. He had loved and lost her five years ago and he had done everything in his power to spend those years forgetting her.

Forgetting the way she looked, forgetting the way she smiled, forgetting the way she laughed, forgetting the way shemade him feel, forgetting the way he had loved him, forgetting the way she smelt, the way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she breathed.

It had been like those torturous first few years in Vegas. They had both acknowledged one another; they had both acknowledged how they felt about each other, but only to themselves.

And then she had said it, she had done the unthinkable, those words had slipped from her lips and in that instant he knew.

"Have dinner with me."

She had said, softly, confirming what he had known, what he had hoped, what he had prayed for, what he had feared above everything else. That she felt the same. That that spark, that connection, that physical, animal attraction was not just one-sided. She felt it too.

And he had said no. He had not thought about it. It had been reflexive; it had been an action of self-defence of preservation, of not letting his heart rule his head. He had never done that. And now how he wished to God that he had.

How he wished that he had taken her in his arms, had quite literally swept her off her feet. Had told her how he felt about her. How much he loved her. How much he needed her. Had kissed her to show her that he meant it.

He had not. He had said no. He had committed what he had thought at the time was the biggest mistake of his life.

He had been wrong. The biggest mistake of his life had been that phone call. That phone call where he told her that it would be in 'her best interests' for them to separate. He had been telling himself continually for five years, that it had been in her best interests, that she had moved on, that she was happy. Because he wasn't. Far from it.

And as it had turned out, the biggest mistake of her life had been a more permanent repeat of the first. Of losing her. Of loving her and still losing her. Of wanting her, needing her, and still losing her. Of ever having had her and been happy with her, truly happy and now this, leaving him wondering how he had lost her, how he had lost her and lost everything.

He had been a shell for five years. Numbing everything with work and insomnia, hoping that one day either he would feel normal again or he would simply cease to feel anything at all. Personally, he was hoping for the latter as he knew the former could never exist. He would never allow himself to love another woman as he had loved her. Frankly, he did not see that it was possible.

Sighing and shaking himself he decided to get this over with. He now could not remember why he had agreed to this. Well he did. He had come back for the people, for Nick and Greg, Catherine, Brass, and perhaps, though he was loathe to admit it, even Ecklie.

He had not come back for Sara. He had not anticipated having been confronted by memories of her around every corner, behind every casino, to see her smile in the face of every woman he looked upon and to have another tear form in his already ruined heart.

...

She sighed and pulled the thin shawl she had draped loosely around her shoulders more tightly around herself as she shivered, not for the first time tonight, regretting this decision.

"Sara!"
She was not given long to ponder hastily retreating to the taxi and returning to her hotel as at that point, she was impacted by a flying Greg who hurtled towards her at an inhuman speed and almost knocked her to the ground.

"Good to see you too Greg...You think you could remove your hand from my spine now please?" she asked, smiling in spite of herself.

"Sure thing." He replied, letting her go and looking her over, "You look good." He said, eyeing her dress appreciatively,

"Don't sound so surprised." She told him, smirking and flushing slightly,

"Hey Sara, I wondered if you were coming tonight!" Nick said, also pulling her into a hug, though admittedly, one that did slightly less damage to her internal organs than Greg's.

"Nick, Vegas has still got you between its teeth I see."

"Yep, don't think it'll ever let me go to be honest." He said with a smile,

"Who does it still have in its clutches?"

"Russell, Finn and Morgan are all still here if that's what you're wondering." Greg answered, linking arms with her and dragging her towards the bar without much protest on her part, "Catherine's here but not here if you know what I mean."

"No. Do you know what you mean?" she shot back, grinning,

"She's here for tonight but not staying in Vegas." Nick clarified, helpfully,

"Ah-"

"Sara!" Several people suddenly swarmed around her, irritatingly blocking her access to the bar that was so near, yet so far.

As Greg had informed her, it was Russell Finn and Morgan,

"Hey." She said, smiling warmly at the sight of her old colleagues, "Still stuck in crazy town I see?"

"Definitely beats Seattle." Finn said, grinning, "Infinitely more strip clubs to choose from." She said with a devilish wink.

"You look good Sara, how are you doing?" Russell said, smiling at her fondly,

"I'm good...And why does everyone say that with such a tone of surprise?" she demanded, playfully, accepting the drink that Nick handed her.

"Ignore them; I've always known you were gorgeous." Finn told her, winking at her and causing her to laugh properly for the first time in what felt like years.

Just this atmosphere of being in Vegas made her smile and feel genuinely happy, something she had not been in a long time, whatever she told herself.

"Sara Sidle." A voice said, behind her,

"Catherine!" she exclaimed, turning and attempting to avoid spilling her drink down the back of the other woman's slinky black dress, infinitely more daring than her own, as she pulled her into a tight embrace, "Or should it be agent Willows now?" she asked with a smile as they broke apart.

"You can call me whatever you like." She replied with a smile, "As long as we're all together and you buy me a drink."

"Deal." She said laughing.

She sat and drank with them for several hours, enjoying the company of her old and older colleagues, only realising now how much she had missed them.

The night had quietened considerably, the crowds thinning dramatically when she stood to get another drink. She stood waiting at the bar, swirling the straw around at the remnants of the ice cubes in her last glass. And then she heard it.

She froze as a shiver ran the length of her spine as the soft sound of the instantly familiar voice fell tenderly upon her ears,

"Danaus plexippus, the monarch butterfly."

"I don't even have to turn around." She whispered back, the words falling from her lips without conscious thought.

"It's me." He whispered as she did.

As there's eyes met she could feel hers dancing around as she looked into his eyes, that deep intense blue that had somehow lost a little bit of their light, of their life, since last she had looked at him. In that one instant, in those two eyes, she felt a confused torrent of feelings rage through her body that she was only really aware of him and of them.

She did not know whether she wanted to hug him, slap him, throw her new drink over him or kiss him.

She settled for staring at him rather like a confused goldfish.

She was quite sure that they were going to spend all of time there, until they both turned to stone and were carried away as both of them flushed darkly, both equally unable to look away from the other or to remember how to communicate with them.

Fortunately however, one of the most soul destroying things that had ever happened to either of them occurred next that set a chain reaction, the consequences of which neither of them could have predicted, into motion.

Something always brings me back to you...

It never takes too long...

"Our wedding song..." he said, softly,

"Yes. It was...It is..." she replied, listening,

No matter what I say or do

I still feel you here, till the moment I'm gone...

"Would you like to dance?" he blurted, without thinking, his heart speaking in front of his brain for once without the latter's consent.

"Gil I don't think-"she began, having no idea where this was going but sure it would leave her comfort zone as a distant memory.

"Don't think Sara." He replied, gently, slipping his hand into hers, "Just do."

"OK..."

You hold me without touch,

He tenderly wrapped his arms around her as they stepped onto the almost empty dance floor,

You keep me without chains,

She placed her head on his shoulder, pressed against his soft, warm frame as he cradled her in his arms, pulling her against him and savoring everything about her , unable to believe that she was here, that he had her in his arms and that he would never let her go again.

I never wanted anything so much,

Than to drown in your love, and not feel your rain...

People were beginning to watch as they held one another, silent tears streaming down her cheeks as he rested his head upon hers, feeling her chest rise and fall gently beneath his tender embrace.

Set me free, Leave me be

She was not aware of anything else in this cruel world than the man who now held her so delicately as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity

He only knew her. Drawing him down, pulling him in, holding on to him as desperately and as lovingly as he held her, for the first time in his life, fully caught up in the moment, in the impulse, in the sheer joy that he felt of being with her, and of truly being with her. Both of them in exactly the same place.

Here I am and I stand, So tall,

Here she was. Here she was, her look, her smell, her touch, wonderfully, beautifully, perfectlyher. He was lost in her smooth, velvety brown eyes, captivated by the soft outline of her sleek lips, his hands easily tracing the gentle curves of her body in that dress, easily the most beautiful woman here, the most beautiful woman anywhere, the most breathtaking human being he had ever come in to contact with.

Just the way I'm supposed to be,

But you're on to me, and all over me

He was on to her. He knew how much she had missed him. How this time that they were spending together here and now had been the first moment she had felt alive, had felt truly alive in too long.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.

She was fragile, she was so fragile between his fingers and he knew that. He could feel her trembling beneath him, feeling simultaneously as though she would fall apart if he held on to her tightly and also that he could hold her for the rest of their lives and she would always be there as she always should have been. She would be where she was supposed to be, for the last five years, for the last two decades.

But you touch me for a little while

And all my fragile strength is gone.

He had only had to touch her. Had only had to say those words, to approach her, to notice her, to convey all of his feelings in that one fleeting contact. When he had taken her hand in his. With that one, brief, beautiful connection, she had known. And he had known. He would always be the one to break her walls down, would always be the only one who could ever make her cry and laugh and shake and smile and hurt and love all at once. He would always be the only one.

Set me free, leave me be.

I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.

It didn't matter what they wanted. They would always be drawn together, would always find each other. They could never be kept apart, not by walls or oceans, or lab protocol or dominatrix's or even their own stupidity. Something would always bring them back together.

Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on, you're on to me and all over...

"Kiss me." She breathed into his ear, pulling him close,

"Sara, I-"he began, wondering if this could be too far,

"Don't. Kiss me. Just kiss me."

Something always brings me back to you...

He did.

A/N: Comes from a tumblr request (I am not entirely to blame for this this time!) the song used is Gravity by Sara Bareilles. A little bit different to things I would usually write but hopefully it worked out alright, would love your thoughts on this. Thank you for reading!