They looked into each other's eyes, finally allowing themselves the luxury of simply staring. Uncaring of anything that went on in the world around them, their breathing quickened as they drew closer. Her eyes searched his for any sign of rejection, and her heart soared as she saw none. His hand reached out, tentatively, gently brushing her hair away from her cheek. It lingered there, as their bodies leaned into each other's; heads slightly turning in preparation. Suddenly the man pulls back, and the reaction in the woman is immediate. Body suddenly tense, her face shows that she's having an internal battle. Her decision made, she lifts her hands to his arms, holding him still, as if to stop him from retreating farther. Her eyes cloud up slightly as she opens her mouth to speak, but she is stopped by his hand on her lips. Disappointment turns to confusion, the change once again evident in her deep brown eyes.
"I just wanted to look into your eyes again," he says, gently. Her eyes, so expressive, especially at this precious moment, fill with tears. "Don't cry, sweetheart," he begins again. She closes her lids, setting free two salty drops as her arms close around his back, holding him to her as he speaks again, his face buried in her hair.
"I wasn't running away again, I promise. I was just checking to see if all this was real." He pulls back, cupping her face in his hands and searching her eyes for the love he dared to hope would be expressed there. It was, multiplied a thousandfold. She finally speaks, mimicking his gesture and thrilling to the heat of his face in her hands.
"It is real, I am here, and you're stuck with me for life, mister!"
The music swelled as the couple on the screen kissed passionately, oblivious to the credits scrolling across their images. Sara reached for another tissue, wiping the moisture from her cheeks as she slowly returned to reality. She looked around her apartment, the neatness in the living room disturbed by the mass of tissues and potato chip bags amassed beside her on her couch. Sara quashed the feeling of disgust, reminding herself that at least she hadn't gone to the theater to see this particular movie. The parallels had been too much even for her normally prosaic self--May-December romance, employee-boss relationship, and to make matters worse, the woman had resembled her remarkably. Allowing herself a vicious moment, she wondered what Grissom would do should she send him a videotape of the film. 'He'd probably give me the same confused idiot look he gave me when I handed in my leave of absence,' she thought to herself. 'Well, at least I have the night off.'
Almost at that exact moment, her cell phone rang, and Sara glared at it for a moment before lifting it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sara--it's Catherine. I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No," Sara sighed. "No, what's up?"
"Grissom asked me to call you in, we've got a triple."
"I'll be right in, Cath." Sara hung up, knowing the other woman wouldn't see it as a rude gesture, even though at this moment she wasn't feeling particularly polite. There had been a time when Grissom would have called her in himself, and although she was known for being pretty grouchy when awakened, Sara knew it wasn't for fear of her temper that stopped him from calling her in personally anymore. Sara doubted she'd have time for a shower, but she did rinse her face, hoping she would be able to erase the signs of her sentimental tears. It didn't work. Sara groaned as her beeper went off, and she ripped it from her belt with such force that the clip broke off. It was Catherine again, giving the address of the crime scene. Sara glanced into the mirror again, and groaned a second time at her appearance. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose was red, and she didn't have time to freshen up. She would just have to hope that everyone would chalk it up to her having been asleep when Catherine had called.
Sara arrived at the crime scene in record time, to find Nick, Warrick, and Catherine already hard at work. Nick's presence there was confusing, as he and Sara were already working on a case from the night before. It was unlike Grissom to take everyone off of their cases to work a different one, but not impossible. He'd already done so once this year, to her extreme displeasure--he'd even gone so far as to smack down her objections to it in public. She wondered what was going on with him lately--midlife crisis? Sara looked around for the television cameras, assuming that she and Nick had been once again reassigned due to a political case, and she was relieved when she saw no media whatsoever. She felt slightly better, glad that her quick assumption that he'd moved them off of the case for political reasons was false. That still didn't reveal the real reason, however, and Sara approached Catherine to ask the blonde what was going on when her cell phone rang. Irrationally, she wondered why many people she knew complained about bad service and missed calls all the time, when her phone worked perfectly well.
"Sidle." Sara's tone bespoke her irritation.
"Where are you, Sara?" Grissom also sounded irritated.
"Well, and a good evening to you, too, Grissom. Where do you think I am, I'm at the crime scene!"
"Why are you there?" Grissom rushed on before Sara could say a word in response. "I need you here, please come to CSI right away." Grissom hung up without even allowing her to protest that Catherine had told her to show up at the triple murder site.
"Hey, Sara--what are you doing here?" Nick's voice broke through the haze of anger that had erupted around Sara, and unfortunately he bore the brunt of being the first person to speak to her after Grissom's phone call. His choice of phrase didn't help him much, either.
"Why does everyone want to know what I'm doing here?!" Sara's sense of decorum told her that she was definitely not using her indoor voice, but she was beyond caring at this point. "I was HERE to do my JOB, but apparently that means I get to go chasing around Las Vegas getting yelled at for following instructions!!" Sara turned on her heel and stalked out of the house, a very bewildered Nick following closely behind. At her car, Sara opened the door and almost knocked him over, an action completely her fault but for which the hapless Nick was considered to blame.
"WHAT?!" Sara was in no mood to explain her anger to Nicky right now.
"Sara, do you realize it's 11 AM and you're screaming?" Either Nick had a lot of courage, or he was going on the fact that he and Sara were good friends, and she wouldn't mind him pointing out such a thing. He got lucky. Sara opened her mouth to bring forth the Wrath of Sidle when common sense finally kicked in. That wasn't to say she wasn't still angry, though.
"You want to know what I'm doing here?" Sara gritted out. "Ask Catherine."
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During the drive to HQ, Sara's emotions varied from rage to despair, alternately angry with Grissom for his actions and angry at herself for caring what he thought of her. It was obvious from the tone in his voice that any semblance of the rapport they used to share was rapidly retreating, and she felt the loss as keenly as she would the loss of a valued friend. Stopped at a particularly long red light, Sara's thoughts spun out of her control, analyzing the past few months' interactions with the man. The Detached Scientist detected a yo-yo like pattern of rejection and attraction, while the Woman Scorned scoffed that it was all a ploy to retain her services at the lab. The Hopeless Romantic was still off writing new poetry based on his once again saying he needed her, ignoring the voice of the Pessimist whispering in her ear that if he was going to say really he wanted her, he would have done so already.
An angry car horn alerted her to the fact that she'd been stopped at a green light, and Sara sped off again, her foot on the pedal her only outlet for her anger and frustration. The pure exhilaration of speeding to her destination was releasing some of her pent-up emotions, but she arrived at CSI far too soon for them to be totally gone. Sara flew into the parking lot, executing a perfect movie-style park job that her conscience told her had completely ruined her parking brake.
Sara was just stepping out of her SUV when she noticed her reflection in the rear-view mirror. For the second time that night, her cheeks were wet with tears, and for the second time that night she had no time to do anything about it. On a whim, she pulled the clip that held her hair off of her neck and shook it out, hoping that she'd simply be able to hide behind it most of the night. 'Besides,' she told herself, 'he's not that observant anyway.' Sara walked towards the main building, her fury not quite spent, and blinding her to the fact that Grissom, as a CSI, was nothing if not observant.