Disclaimer: I don't own them, I didn't create them, and I don't profit from them; however, as always, I would love to buy George and Jorja a cup of coffee and maybe even a scone.
Author's Note: This originally was intended to be a collaboration with another writer, but life circumstance have just not worked out to do that...so I've decided to plunge ahead and maybe take this in a different direction than it was originally intended. It's a work in progress and I hope it doesn't turn into an epic or you all might be waiting quite a while between chapters.
They say that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, but what they don't tell you is that often times that journey is spent wandering in circles around the same scenery that you hope will miraculously change before your eyes. I guess my life is a little like that. Growing up I spent many a night wishing that my dad didn't beat up my mom, until one night that wish came true in a way that I'd never imagined and she ended up going to prison for murdering him. That's when I began another journey; a journey that eventually led to becoming a CSI so that I could speak out for justice for women like my mother; and even men like my father, who couldn't or wouldn't speak for themselves. I've learned to collect and analyze evidence because in many ways it's easier than collecting and analyzing people.
Although, no one ever called me a quitter, or told me that I didn't try.
Case in point is my supervisor Gil Grissom. I met him years ago when I was an undergrad at Harvard and he was a guest lecturer, but he really doesn't remember that. What he does remember is meeting me again when he was doing a seminar, the kind that I needed for continuing education requirements, when I was working as a CSI in San Francisco. I was intrigued; not just because I'd met him before, but because the man is brilliant. I've always considered myself a science nerd, but Grissom makes that part of me feel so alive and talking with him over coffee during a few of the breaks that week I felt as if we had a connection that I'd never really had with anyone before.
Although, that's not really when I'd say I fell in love with him, or developed feelings for him rather. Love is such a serious word, and I'm not sure I'll ever really know what it means.
I got a phone call out of the blue in what I've now come to know as being in a very Grissomesque manner about six years ago. He wanted me to come out to Vegas to investigate someone on his nightshift; someone that had left a rookie alone at a crime scene on her first night and she ended up being killed. I never left Vegas, and that CSI that I came to investigate and I have become good friends. You'd never find a more loyal friend than Warrick Brown and I know that he takes the death of Holly Gribbs with him wherever he goes, and because of that, I know he has my back every time we're working a crime scene. Warrick is more of a big brother than my brother ever was.
I think I started to fall for Grissom after I'd been in Vegas for a couple of years. I'd been knocking myself out, pulling triple shifts to prove to him how good of a CSI I was. He kept telling me that I needed to find an outside interest. I was just trying to emulate him and I didn't see him having any outside interests; even his insects were part of his job, or at least I used to think that.
I'm not so sure anymore.
At first I thought he just saw me as a brilliant student, he told me that I was bright and that I had great instincts as an investigator. Then he called me beautiful and that completely threw me for a loop. My dad, he called me the smart one, but he really never called me beautiful. So when a man that I idolize calls me beautiful, what am I suppose to think? Even Warrick has picked up on something and he used to find every opportunity to tease me about it, not in an overt manner, but I know what those little jabs are designed to do. Although lately, Warrick's more inclined to try and set me up with one of his buddies than to tease me about Grissom. Maybe it's because Warrick decided to elope with his girlfriend Tina one night and his perspective on things is a little different now or maybe it's because he sees something I don't and wants to help direct my focus elsewhere.
Nick on the other hand has never acknowledged whatever it is between Grissom and I other than our professional relationship. Maybe he's seen clearly what it's taken me years to figure out. Even if Grissom has feelings for me; and unfortunately I know that he does have feelings for me, I think that's what makes this whole thing so much harder, I know the man is never going to act on them. Nick has been trying to set me up on blind dates for a long time perhaps in hopes that I'll finally pick up on that.
The thing is, no matter how irrational it is, I have feelings for someone that is never going to reciprocate them, is possibly incapable of reciprocating them, and I have to find a way to move on. In my mind, Gil Grissom is the perfect man for me, but maybe what I see as being perfect is just insurance against finding true love, finding someone that's not afraid to love me. Because I think deep down, I'm more afraid of what would happen if he did act on his feelings.
"You get a hit?" A slow easy drawl breaks through my thoughts and I nearly jump out of my skin as I glance up and notice Nick looking at me quizzically. All of us, that is the former nightshift crew, now the restored nightshift crew, have been working this case that is horrific and I've been running prints we picked up at the scene through A.F.I.S. for what seems like hours.
I let out a tired sigh and shake my head. "Nothing yet, but it's still searching. The first three were just partials, but the other four are more complete...maybe we'll get something." I'm not sure I look all that convincing.
Nick has concerned etched on his face. "When was the last time you took a break?" Ever since he was buried alive, he's made it his own personal mission to make sure that in the midst of even the most daunting cases that we get a break in now and then so we stay sharp. Of course I'm likely to remind him that if we'd done that when he was missing, that we might have been too late. I think it's just the way we tell each other we care without coming out and saying it.
I smile at him, I really am glad that we found him in time, I'm not sure we would have all been the same if things hadn't turned out the way they did. "I promise I'll get some coffee just as soon as this is done." As I gesture towards the computer screen, Nick laughs.
"Sara, you and I both know that this could take hours." He smirked and then whispered conspiratorially. "Besides, my mom sent a couple of pecan pies FedEx and they're in the break room...if we don't hurry Greg might polish them both off while he's waiting for his Blue Hawaiian to brew."
We both know that Greg wouldn't dare do something like that, but the idea that Nick's mom overnighted homemade pie is enough to get me out of my chair. By the time we get to the break room, the atmosphere is more like a party; a welcome respite from the tension of the case we've been working on.
Catherine is sitting on the couch with her feet up savoring every bite of her slice of pie and Warrick is sitting across from her making noises that I'm sure in another context might be considered obscene, which makes me anxious to taste this pie.
"Nick, this is the best pie I've ever had." Greg remarks with an expression that is pure delight.
It seems the only one missing from this impromptu gathering is Grissom, and for some reason I feel a bit of a pang. A pang that is replaced with a nervous flutter as the man in question walks into the room looking at us all as if we've gone mad.
"What happened to the case?" Grissom doesn't seem to register that we're all eating pie.
"Nick's mom sent pie." Greg lifts up his plate in explanation.
All of us freeze momentarily.
Grissom glances around and then quirks a single eyebrow before looking at Nick over the rim of his glasses. "What kind of pie?"
Nick grins. "Pecan, Gris. She makes the best."
He looks as if he's considering it for just a moment.
I can't help but interject, this pie really is amazing and I'm already feeling more relaxed from this little break and I'm not about to give it up just yet. "Everyone needs a break now and then."
Surprise flickers across Grissom's face for just a minute and then he flashes a boyish half smile in my direction. "You're right, Sara."
For some reason, in that moment, I can see something with crystal clarity that I never could have imagined would happen in the middle of something as ordinary as eating pecan pie. I'm hanging onto these feelings for Grissom because I'm stubborn and I want to win; not because I really want him. I'm tired; tired of hanging on, and it's in that moment that I decide that I need a break from him.