Author’s Note:

The characters of CSI were created by A. Zuiker, and are the property of CBS and its affiliates.  All other characters depicted in this story are fictional; they are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author.  Although the locales in this story are real, all events, incidents and characters are pure invention.  © November 2003. LSI.

Enough

“We’re going to have to exhume this body guys,” Sara said, as she, Nick and Warrick sauntered down the hall to Grissom’s office at the end of shift.

“Looks that way, but we still have to get Grissom to approve it first.” 

She threw Nick an annoyed look.  Of course she knew they couldn’t go ahead without Grissom’s approval.  But she had to admit, it was difficult for her to stop, take a breath, and follow protocol when all she wanted to do was forge ahead and get the evidence they needed to put the bastard behind bars. 

Nick, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have that problem…especially since he’d applied for the promotion.  If anything, he’d been cautious to a fault ever since.  He’d been toeing the line, speaking the right words at the right time, even when they didn’t make much sense to Sara.  He played the political game and stayed under the radar. 

It was his new modus operandi, and she missed the Old Nick.

When they neared Grissom’s office they could hear him in conversation with someone—probably Catherine since she was helping him with case reviews this year, but then Sara heard her name just as they stepped up to the door.

“Sara…” Grissom was saying, shaking his head at Catherine, “she asked me out to dinner.”  He twisted his lips wryly as if the very thought of it disgusted him.

Sara froze in the doorway.  Nick and Warrick also came to an abrupt halt next to her, and in the few seconds it took Grissom to realize they were there, her heart had already shattered into a million pieces. 

“Sara!”

Catherine turned in her chair; Warrick’s and Nick’s heads snapped in her direction; Grissom’s gaze locked with hers, and the atmosphere thickened with tension as they all bore witness to her humiliation.

But humiliation was only a tiny prick amid the arrows of pain that shot through her in the seconds that followed.  His blunt refusal to her dinner invitation had been painful and embarrassing enough, but to hear him ridicule it, dismiss it—dismiss her—as a minor annoyance hurt beyond belief.

What a fool I’ve been!  What a stupid, stupid fool!   

A lump formed in her throat and scalding tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the man she’d loved for so long, and until then had thought incapable of deliberate cruelty.  She hadn’t even known until that very moment that it was possible to hate him. 

On shaky legs, she turned and left his doorway, needing to distance herself from the horror of what had just happened.  

She entered the locker room and was relieved that no one was there.  She opened her locker and rested her head against the cool metal inside the door.  She squeezed her eyes shut to stop her tears, and when they slowly trickled down her face anyway, she swiped at them with angry fingers.

Then she scanned the photos taped to the inside of her locker door.  Reminders of happier times, of all she’d left behind, and for what?  And suddenly, she knew what she needed to do—what she should have done months ago.

When she heard the locker room door open, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the intruder.  She really couldn’t face anyone, and mentally cursed herself for lingering there instead of making a hasty exit. 

“Sara…”

His voice was hesitant and gentle and she closed her eyes against the ache in her heart.  Why couldn’t he just leave her alone…let her leave with some dignity?

She used her locker door to hide her face from him as he came closer, too proud to let him see how much he’d hurt her.  But by not looking at him, her other senses sharpened so that she clearly detected the agony in his voice when he spoke her name again.

“Sara…” 

She silently pleaded for him to go away as he took hold of her locker door, his hand entering her peripheral vision.  She didn’t trust her voice.  She didn’t trust her eyes to hold on to the tears that kept building in them no matter how hard she tried not to let them.  Why couldn’t he just go away?

“Sara…” he said again, his unsteady voice so close behind her now.  “I apologize.  Out of context—” he broke off and she heard his deep inhale, and when he let it out, she felt his breath in her hair.

Her spine straightened and her heart hardened.  He thinks I need an apology!  Didn’t he realize he couldn't undo what he did?  Apologies were just words.  He may as well have been saying, ‘I’m sorry you heard that.  I really meant to have a good laugh at your expense behind your back.’

It was what she’d needed to regain control of her emotions.  She reached into her locker and slipped her jacket and purse off the hook.  “Did Nick and Warrick tell you we need to exhume the first Mrs. Wallace?” she asked with detachment, impressed that her voice had come out strong and steady.

He was silent for a moment.  Then, “Yes.  I called Brass.  The DA's working on a court order.”

“Good.”  She closed the locker door with little force, but the crash of metal on metal signaled the end of the conversation as effectively as a judge’s gavel on its wooden block.  Sara gave the combination lock a quick turn and slipped on her jacket.  She managed to do all that and brush past him without once looking at him directly.  “I’m off.  Goodnight.”

“Sara, we need to talk about this.”  

She ignored his plea and left the locker room, rushing out to the parking lot, thankful that she didn’t meet anyone else. 

You’re wrong, Grissom.  There’s nothing left to talk about. 

Except her resignation.

THE LETTER WAS the first thing she tackled when she got home.  She sat at her portable computer and angrily typed out the ‘date’, ‘to’ and ‘subject’ fields, and then she hesitated, her fingers poised above the keys.  Resignation letters went into personnel files, a record that would be there for years to come.  That’s why they needed to be professionally courteous regardless of the circumstances of separation.

She began with, Grissom.  Not ‘Dear Grissom’, that would be too…friendly.  Not ‘Dr or Mr Grissom’… that would be too formal.  Just, Grissom.

This is to advise you that I am resigning my position as Crime Scene Investigator.

I have decided that it is time to pursue employment opportunities elsewhere.  This was not an easy decision and took a lot of consideration.  However, I am confident that it will help me move towards some of the career goals I have set. 

Although I have no written contract of employment at LVPD’s Criminalistics Bureau, I trust that the standard two weeks’ notice will be acceptable.  Be assured that I will do all I can to assist in the smooth transfer of my responsibilities before leaving.

I wish you and the Bureau every future success, and I thank you for having me as part of your team.

Yours sincerely,

She printed it out and sat back in her chair, reading it with a critical eye.  It was perfect, she decided, friendly, professional and devoid of emotion.  She signed it, folded the page and stuffed it into a plain number ten envelope. 

Satisfied, she then called her former college roommate to let her know she’d be in Boston in two weeks.  As Sara had expected, Pauline was excited at the prospect of having her old friend back in town, and immediately offered her a place to stay while she looked for a job and an apartment.

THE FIRST PERSON Sara saw when she arrived at the lab the next day was Nick.  He was sitting in the break room, alone, reading a magazine.  He looked up and eyed her for a moment when she came in, concern etched on his face.

“Hi.  You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lied, turning her back to him to fill a coffee mug, hoping that her embarrassment wasn't written all over her face.  She was well aware that nothing would be the same for her now that she’d been ‘outed’ so to speak.  Fortunately, she would only have to face her colleagues for another two weeks before starting over in Boston, a wiser person.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She turned and looked at him quickly, then picked up her coffee cup and sat across from him at the table.  There was a moment of silence. 

“Did you ever have that dream where you wake up naked in public and everybody’s looking at you, and as much as you try to hide or run away, you can’t move?”

He grinned.  “Everybody’s had that dream.”

“This is kind of how I feel.”

Exposed, she thought, in a way she’d never wanted to be exposed, especially with the people she worked with.  It would only be a matter of time before it made it to the grapevine and they’d all know about her little crush on the boss.  They’d know how pathetic she really was…

“I’m sorry, Sara.  You didn’t deserve that.”

She appreciated Nick’s concern, but it didn’t alleviate her shame.  Fortunately, the end was near and with any luck, it wouldn’t make it to the grapevine before she left. 

The companionable silence that followed was short lived as Grissom walked in.  Sara didn’t need to look up to know it was him.  He had a way of displacing the air whenever he entered a room that made the hair rise on the back of her neck.  And even without that, Nick’s concerned glance her way would have given it away.

Nick studied her face for a moment, and she shuddered.  Would she ever be in the same room with Grissom again without feeling as if she were under a microscope?  She sensed Grissom’s gaze on her and wished she had something, a magazine or a case file—anything to look at so she wouldn’t feel compelled to look at him. 

“The decision’s been made about the lead CSI position,” he said, surprising them both and snapping them to attention.  “After assignments, I’d like each of you to come by my office.”  Then, he walked across the room and left without another word. 

They stared after him and then at each other.  Nick looked fearful and Sara wished she could tell him he had nothing to worry about.  If Grissom’s behavior towards her in recent months was anything to go by, she doubted she was the chosen one.  Her professional relationship with him had begun deteriorating a very long time ago, but since she’d invited him out to dinner, it had reached an all-time low.  It seemed she couldn’t do anything without earning a reprimand, and she was in a constant state of anxiety around him.

But either way she was resigning today, so in effect she’d already removed herself from the competition.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell Nick that.  Instead, she offered him a smile she hoped would help him relax, and wished him luck.

Nick looked at her skeptically.  “Do you really mean that?”

“Sure I do.”  But did she?  She wondered.  If she hadn’t already decided to leave, would she feel this way?  It was obvious that Nick wanted this much more than she ever had.  To her, this promotion was nothing more than another rung up the ladder of her career.  To Nick, she suspected, it meant everything.  This would define him for a very long time.  She really did mean it, she decided happily.  “Nick, for the record, I think the promotion should go to you.”

“Will you still say that if you get it?  Will you turn it down?”

She smiled sadly.  “I don’t think I’ll be given the opportunity to find out.”

The others started arriving, bringing their conversation to an end.  But Nick eyed her curiously for a moment.  He didn’t understand her attitude now, but he would in a couple of weeks, Sara thought, shooting him a final supportive smile.

Grissom dispatched Catherine and Warrick to a floater in Lake Mead.  Mrs. Wallace’s exhumed body was on its way to Doc Robbins' table and he wanted Nick and Sara to continue working that case.  As soon as Catherine and Warrick left the room, Grissom looked at each of them in turn.  “Who wants to go first?”

“Uh…I will, if that’s okay with you, Nick.”  On the off-chance that she’d been selected, she didn’t think it would do Nick any good to know it.

“Be my guest,” he said easily, and Sara was glad to see that he appeared more confident.

She closed the door behind her as she entered Grissom’s office a few minutes later, her letter tucked into her jacket pocket.  She took the chair across from his desk and waited for him to speak. 

He actually looked nervous, she thought, as he fidgeted with some papers on his desk.  She on the other hand didn’t know how she felt.  It was as if the myriad emotions she’d felt for him in the past year had merged, like paints on a canvas, mixing to one big brown blob, the beauty or passion in each no longer discernible.       

And when he finally looked at her, she knew what he was going to say before he said it. 

“You’re a very good CSI, Sara.  In fact you’re a better CSI today than I suspect Nick will ever be.  But his personality is better suited to this particular job.  I’m sorry.”

She looked at him, still surprised despite it all that she really didn’t feel anything.  “Fine.”

Grissom cocked his head and eyed her curiously.  “Is that all you’re going to say?”

She shrugged.  “It doesn’t exactly come as a surprise.”

“It doesn’t?”

“You’ve been treating me like an insubordinate child for months,” she started dispassionately, reciting facts that no longer had the power to hurt her.  “Ever since I asked you out to dinner in fact,” she added, surprised for bringing that up.  But perhaps it was time she voiced all her grievances.  “You seem to be very tolerant of everyone’s shortcomings but mine.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Catherine, Warrick, Nick…they’ve all screwed up,” she plunged on, her voice steady.  “In fact, they’ve done things that should have had them fired.  But you supported them and protected them.  I made one lousy mistake, and it wasn’t even work related, and you’ve done nothing but make my life miserable ever since.”

Something flickered in his eyes.  “Is that how you look at it, Sara, as a mistake?”

“I do now,” she snapped, feeling her tightly held control begin to slip.  Damn, she didn’t want this to turn into a shouting match, but she acknowledged that if nothing else hurt anymore, what he’d said to Catherine the day before still did.  How could he not know that it would?  “It was embarrassing enough at the time, but you couldn’t leave it at that.  You had to further humiliate me by blabbing it to Catherine.” 

“I’ve been trying to explain that to you.  Catherine and I were talking about the lab explosion—“

“It doesn’t really matter why you said what you said,” she interrupted him angrily, and then took a steadying breath.  She needed to keep her emotions in check.  But damn it, she was mad.  Feeling suddenly too agitated to sit still, she rose to her feet and took a couple of paces back from the chair.  She found she much preferred her new vantage point.  “Do you have any idea what it feels like to have the people you work with look at you with pity in their eyes?  These are the only people I know here, that I can call friends, and I’ll never be able to look at them again without wondering if—”  She interrupted herself and closed her eyes briefly, fighting back tears.

His gaze dropped to his desk, and he sighed heavily.  “I’m sorry, Sara.  I never meant to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, I find that hard to believe after you so clearly enjoyed ridiculing me.” 

He swiveled his chair sideways and leaned back into it, picking up a pen from his desk to throw it right back in frustration.  He didn’t look at her.  “That’s not what I was doing, and you know it.”

But she didn’t know it.  She never would have thought him capable of it, but nothing in his behavior towards her in months, perhaps in more than a year, had been what she’d call typical.

“Uh…listen, Grissom…” Sara regained her seat.  “…there’s something else we need to talk about.”

He sat up straight and looked at her.  “What?”

She reached into her pocket and handed him the envelope. 

He held it unopened for a moment, gazing at it suspiciously.  And when he looked at her, she knew she didn’t have to tell him what it was.  Slowly, he opened it, unfolded the single sheet of paper and started to read. 

His expression went from alarmed to angry in a flash.  “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?  This whole thing will blow over in a day or two.”

“No, Grissom, it won’t blow over,” she said calmly, but swallowed hard.  “This isn’t about what happened yesterday.  That may have been the kick in the ass I needed to make a decision, but I’ve been thinking about moving on for a long time.”

He was still angry.  “How long?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.  “I don’t know…months, a year maybe.”

“Why?”

“I’m no longer happy here.”

The letter floated from his hand down to his desk.  He removed his glasses and threw them down on top of it, then ran his hand across his face wearily.  “What do you want from me?”

“What?”

“What can I do to fix this?”

Fix it!  She clenched her fists and struggled to reign in her rage before she spoke.  “What you could have done for about a year now is treat me with the respect I believe I deserve,” she said icily, but at least she didn’t raise her voice.  “And it would help if you did so now.”

He looked genuinely confused.  “How am I disrespecting you?”

“You think you can give me a pat on the head and everything will be okay?  Stop treating me like a difficult child, Grissom.  You can’t even bring yourself to take my resignation seriously.”

“Oh, I take it very seriously, believe me.  It doesn’t mean I understand it.”

“What is it you don’t understand?”

“Well for one, you say this is not about what happened yesterday, and it’s obviously not about the promotion.  And I know I respect you, so, yeah, I am a little confused.”

She shook her head in frustration and looked away.  Could he really be so blind to his own behavior?  It wasn't as if he only did it to her.  He also treated Nick and Greg like second-class citizens…always had.  It was sad.  She looked at him.  “Grissom," she started patiently, "can you honestly say you hold Nick and I in the same high regard you do Catherine and Warrick?”

He frowned.  “I like to think I do.”  But he didn’t sound convinced.

“Well you might want to rethink that.  In fact, you should use Catherine and Warrick as a benchmark for how you treat the rest of your staff.  I’m sure we all deserve the same deference you give them.”

“Does this have anything to do with me pulling the Julie Waters case from you?”

It had to be about one thing for him, but it was a fair question.  Sara couldn’t deny that it was part of it.  “It’s a good example of what I’m talking about,” she said.

“Sara, you and Nick were thinking of yourselves, not the case.”

She didn’t bother to hide her anger this time.  “Oh?  And Catherine didn’t stand to gain from handling a high-profile case?  Do you honestly think it wasn’t personal to her?  If she’d been thinking about the case, ask yourself, would she have picked a trainee to work it with her?”  She clamped her mouth shut before she could say any more about Catherine’s motives though she could have spoken volumes on the subject, but she didn’t want to turn this into a Catherine bashing session.  He was so chronically blind to the woman’s flaws it would only confuse the issue anyway.  She exhaled a frustrated breath and refocused her thoughts.  “Look, this is exactly what I’ve been talking about.  You assumed Catherine had the best intentions in this case, and that Nick and I didn’t.  You used to trust me, Grissom, but it’s obvious you don’t anymore and frankly, I’m sick of trying to figure out why.”

He stared at her for a moment, mouth agape, and then he dropped his gaze to his desk.  If she’d done anything to make him question her abilities or her judgment, it didn’t look as if he was going to share it with her.

She rose to her feet.  The resignation letter had been liberating, giving her the courage to finally voice her grievances, and she silently congratulated herself for keeping it relatively professional.  But she’d said enough.  There was only one more thing she needed to do before bringing this meeting to a close. 

“When you asked me to come here, you said I’d be doing you a favor.  I’d like to ask for a favor in return.”  He looked at her.  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this until after I leave.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “Why?”

“I don’t want to deal with a million questions, and I certainly don’t want going-away parties.  Can you do that for me?”

He stood and came around the desk to stand in front of her.  His voice was a trifle unsteady.  “Sara, I wish you’d reconsider this.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for months.  My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.  I could have at least spared myself yesterday’s embarrassment.”  She kept her voice firm.  “My resignation stands.  Now, can I count on you to keep it quiet?”

After a long silent study of her face, he gave her a brief nod.  He looked defeated.

“Thank you.  I’ll send Nick in.”

When she left his office, she took a few steps down the hall then stopped to catch her breath.  A part of her couldn’t believe she’d actually resigned, while another part felt that a tremendous weight had been lifted from her.  She felt…free?  Free of tension, certainly.  Free of him?  She didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.

Right now, all she felt was a tremendous sense of accomplishment, and wondered why she hadn’t told him how she felt before. 

She found Nick in the break room and put on a cheerful smile.  He lifted questioning eyes at her.  “Your turn,” she said lightly, then went up to him and kissed his cheek.  “Congratulations,” she whispered.

His grin was immediate, but he shook his head in wonderment.  “You’re really fine with this.”

“I am.”  And he saw that she meant it.

“Then why were you in there so long?”

Her smile faltered.  “We…uh, had other things to discuss.”  At his look of concern, she lightened her tone.  “Better go, Nicky, before he changes his mind.”

On his way out he turned and leaned against the door frame.  “Hey, Sara, what do you say we find one of those all night pubs and grab a few after shift?  Just you and me.”

Her smile widened.  “You’re on.”

He left the room chuckling and she sank into one of the chairs, her smile fading.  The silence of the break room engulfed her and drained her of all energy.  She recognized the symptoms, had experienced them frequently—every time they had a rush case and the adrenaline would keep her going for hours.  She would look forward to the ‘solve’, but the end would always bring a bout of melancholy…a case of the blues, and it would sometimes take her hours to overcome it.  But she didn’t have the luxury of time today.  There was a body on its way to Doc’s table.

She dragged herself up and made her way to Forensic Autopsy.

SARA HAD MANAGED to avoid Grissom for most of the shift, and when she had seen him, they’d kept their exchanges strictly to the business at hand.  There had been an uncomfortable moment when Warrick and Catherine returned to the lab and learned that Nick had won the promotion.  They both looked at her curiously; Warrick seemed genuinely concerned, but Sara couldn't read Catherine.  She thought she'd glimpsed a triumphant flash in her eyes, but if that's what it was, Catherine had masked it so quickly, she couldn't be certain.

For now, however, all she wanted to do was put this behind her and enjoy Nick’s company. 

The bar he’d chosen was one they’d visited a few times in the past and it still smelled of stale smoke and spilled beer, proof that it had missed several spring cleanings.  But it was comfortable; the sort of place where she could straddle a bar stool and drink a beer directly from the bottle—in part because she didn’t trust the cleanliness of the glasses, but mostly because she could do it without anyone questioning her femininity.

She swiveled in her seat and sat back against the bar.  Nick did the same, and they each took a swig from their bottle.

“Some pair we are,” she said as she eyed the only other customer in the place, a raggedy old man too intoxicated to lift his head off the table he’d probably occupied all night.  “Some classy pair.”

“Aw…admit it Sara.  You love this place.”

She shot him a mock-annoyed glance.  “There’s nothing you wouldn’t love today, Nick.  Do you think you’ll ever get that smile off your face?”  

“Ah!  You’d be smiling too if he’d picked you.”  Then realizing how that sounded, he quickly apologized.  “Do you think my other foot would fit in there?” he asked, pointing to his mouth.

Sara got the image and grinned.  “Oh, yeah, today, I definitely think it would fit in there.”

“You sure you’re okay with me getting the job?”

She shook her head and laughed.  “Will you stop asking me that?”

Nick became serious.  “Things aren’t very good between you and Grissom.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

He was silent for a moment.  Then, “I understand, but this is just you and me here, Sara.  Wouldn’t you like to vent a little?”

She chuckled.  “Vent?  If you get me started on him, I might not be able to stop.”

“Hmm.”  He took another swig from his bottle as he stared into the distance.  “Maybe you shouldn’t.  Sometimes it helps to talk.”

She knew his heart was in the right place.  When she and Hank had broken up, he’d tried to set her up with a friend of his…a good guy, he’d said, his way of helping her get over Hank and feel better.  And that was what he was trying to do now, and she was struck suddenly by how much she’d come to care for him.  He was a good guy.

But she also knew that talking about her relationship with Grissom would only bring to the surface emotions that were best left buried.  She was leaving in two weeks, she would never see him again, and she couldn’t afford to start romanticizing the past, which she knew she was prone to do. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked at him.  “Nick...I’m okay.  I’m going to be okay.”  She wished she could tell him she was leaving, but was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to keep it to himself.  She gave him a playful shove with her shoulder.  “I do appreciate your concern, but I’m not falling apart here.”

He nodded.  “Just know you can talk to me, okay?”

She smiled.  “Thanks.  Did I ever tell you…”  And then the purpose of what she was about to say overwhelmed her and tears stung her eyes.  She couldn’t leave without letting him know what he’d meant to her.  She blinked and continued.  “From the very first, you made me feel welcome here.  Catherine,” she made a face despite herself, “well she never approved of me.  And Warrick…I can’t blame him for hating me at first since I was brought in primarily to investigate him.  But you made me feel at home.  You’re a nice guy, Nick Stokes.  I’m happy about your promotion.  You deserve it and I think you’ll be great at that job.  And I want you to know…”  She took a breath.  “I want you to know that I'll always love you for being such a good friend to me.” 

He was obviously stunned by her admission; he looked at her curiously.  Granted.  Mushy wasn’t her style.  She could understand his confusion, and his need to lighten the mood.  He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.  “Aw…Sara, why can’t you just admit you had a crush on me,” he teased.

She gave him a mock-horrified grunt.  “I did not!”

“You did so,” he said.  “You were always flirting with me.”

“I was flirting?  I was flirting,” she repeated, laughing with him.  “Look who’s flirting now!  Let go of me Stokes or I’ll belt you one.”

“Aw….great, my girl is back.”

They had another drink together and Grissom’s name never came up again.  An hour later, Sara went home smiling.  The red light on her phone was blinking, which was unusual.  No one ever called, except her mother on holidays, but Christmas was days away.  She picked up the receiver and hit the message key.  She listened to a few seconds of silence, and then heard a click.  Whoever it was didn’t leave a message.  She replaced the receiver in the cradle and pressed the call display arrow.  She recognized the number immediately.  Not because she’d ever dialed it.  Well that wasn’t true.  She had dialed it frequently, but had always hung up before it would even begin to ring. 

He’d never called her at home.  Whenever he needed her on a job, he always called her cell phone.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he was calling now.  She put her coat in the closet and Grissom out of her mind, something she’d actually mastered these past few months, and headed for her bedroom with a book.  Reading would take her mind off everything else until it was time to sleep.  Tomorrow, she would start packing.

TWO WEEKS WENT by quickly.  Grissom had delivered on his promise to keep her departure secret by working with her on every case he assigned her.  That way, when the time came, there wouldn’t be a need to brief anyone else on her current assignments.

She didn’t tell him, but she appreciated it.

The only downside to this arrangement was that it was impossible to avoid him.  He'd tried to talk to her several times…it would always start the same way, with her name, soft and hesitant, and that would be her cue to interrupt him with a case-related question or comment, and then, whenever possible, leave the room.  After a week, he stopped trying.  She could feel him watching her, sometimes she caught him at it, but he’d just give his head a quick shake and look away.

As the end neared, she became more aware of her surroundings and the people in it.  Warrick, Greg, David…she’d miss them all.  She’d already given her parting speech to Nick, but she also wanted to say her subtle goodbyes to the others.  They’d understand what her words meant when they learned of her resignation. 

The day before her last, she was on her way to DNA when she spotted Warrick at the comparative microscope in Trace.  She stopped in.  She may not have another opportunity to talk to him alone, and after a minute of small talk about his case, she sucked in a breath and apologized to him.

He looked up at her, his beautiful green eyes narrowed in confusion.

“We didn’t exactly start on the right foot, did we?” she asked, lifting a shoulder in a shrug.  “I was brought here to investigate you, and I was so bent on impressing Grissom that I didn’t take the time to get to know you.”

He turned his head and peered down the microscope.  “Water over the dam, Sara.”

She looked at him and saw the beautiful, smart and strong man that he was.  Grissom had told her she was only seeing one piece of the puzzle, and he’d been right.  She’d misjudged him in the beginning, and she never told him how wrong she’d been.  She needed to tell him now.

“I did my job at the time, Warrick, but I didn’t cut you any slack.  I didn’t know you and never bothered looking beyond the evidence to the person.  I’ve come to see the man that you are, and I respect that man.”

He lifted his head slowly and looked at her.  “You high on somethin’?”

She smiled shyly.  “Nope.” 

He grinned and returned to his microscope.

A couple of minutes later, Greg greeted her with his usual exuberance.  She wondered how he could always be so…euphoric.  It was one of his better qualities, Sara decided, and almost felt sorry for him when she realized that he would certainly lose some of his happy-go-lucky approach to life once he immersed himself in the field.   

She looked at him with a critical eye.  She wondered if he had really considered what this job would eventually do to him...what it did to all CSIs.  It was impossible to see the horrific things they saw day after day and remain unaffected. 

“Greg, why do you want to be a CSI?” 

He raised a brow.  “Is that a trick question?”

Sara grinned.  “No, just curious.”

Greg looked pleased.  She was well aware that he had a crush on her, and while she found it flattering, she’d always been careful to keep their relationship strictly professional.  This was probably the first time she’d shown a real interest in him.

He lifted both shoulders in a shrug.  “I want to be out there, where the action is.”

“You do know it can be hell, don’t you, Greg?”

“Are you trying to make me change my mind?  You don’t think I can do it?”

“You’re very smart.”  He smiled shyly at her then.  “You’re very good in here and I’m sure you’ll be equally good out there.  I just uh…have always admired your energy, your love of life, and I’d hate for you to lose that.”  She lifted a hand, palm facing him.  “Know what…forget I said anything.  You’ll be fine.  Just don’t let Grissom get to you, okay?  If he’s giving you this opportunity it’s because he likes you and knows you can do it.”  And then she leaned in close to him and lowered her voice conspiratorially.  “You know Greg, you and I are the only two people he’s hand-picked.”  She grinned and she thought she saw something that looked an awful lot like love shine in his eyes.  And she felt a sudden, strange urge to kiss him. 

Sara pulled back abruptly.  Fortunately the GC Mass Spec chose that moment to kick out her results.  She left the DNA lab as quickly as she could, slightly confused by her reaction to Greg.  She needed a break, she decided, and by the time she reached the break room, she was shaking her head at her folly.  It was natural to feel emotional about the people she’d worked with for so long when she knew she would never see them again.  On their last days of work, most people went through that.  That was why there were so many tears shed at retirement parties and going-away parties.   

But if that were true, it didn’t hold true when she walked in the break room and found Catherine there.  It was the first time since before her resignation that she was alone with the woman, and Sara didn’t feel anything that could be described as ‘loving’ towards her.  Catherine had never really warmed up to her, and in recent months she’d been downright hurtful.  There would be no love-fest with Catherine; in fact, she suspected the woman would throw a party when she learned she was gone. 

“Sara.  How’s your case going?” she asked conversationally, but Sara doubted she was all that interested in it.

“Fine, thanks.”  She went to the coffee pot to pour a cup. 

“I noticed you’re with Grissom a lot lately.”

“Yeah, well, he’s the boss.  He assigns the cases.”

Catherine chuckled.  “He probably feels like an ass.”

She turned and faced Catherine.  “Huh?”

She shrugged.  She was having entirely too much fun, Sara noted.  “You’ve got to admit those were a couple of big blows he handed you lately.”

Sara couldn’t believe her insensitivity.  She had to admit that bringing that up was low, even for Catherine.  But if her intention was to rub her face in it, she’d be sorely disappointed.  She’d long stopped caring what either Grissom or Catherine dished out at her.  Not that Grissom had been difficult of late.  In fact, since her resignation he couldn’t have been a better boss, and he’d made working with him extremely pleasant.  It probably annoyed Catherine, Sara decided. 

She took a casual sip from her cup before saying, “Think so?” 

Her nonchalance seemed to puzzle Catherine.  “Personal stuff aside, you had to be pissed Grissom recommended Nick for the promotion.”

“Actually, I wasn’t.”  Catherine looked at her disbelievingly.  Sara was still standing and she looked down at the woman she had so often tried to befriend.  “For one, Nick has seniority over me.”

“Yeah, well, it takes more than seniority to get promoted.”

“Really,” she responded glibly, and then looked at Catherine pointedly.  “Catherine, I don’t know what you’re driving at, but it’s obvious you’re happy Nick got the promotion.  I have to wonder, however, if you’d still feel this way if he wore a skirt.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sara shrugged and smiled.  “Just what I said.  You never really accepted me, but it’s not because I’m an inferior  CSI.  You just couldn't stand the idea of another woman on your turf.”

Catherine blinked.  “My turf?”  Her voice was a little squeaky.

“You don’t like to share the stage, Catherine.  I figured that out a long time ago and I never took it personally.  And I don’t see why I would start now.  So don’t think you’re insulting me by suggesting that Nick is more deserving than I am, or that Grissom is patronizing me.”

Her mouth dropped open.  Sara was certain she’d never seen Catherine at a loss for words and she wanted to laugh.  She’d let her get away with her nastiness in the past, but there was something comforting in finally letting her know she had her number.  Catherine might be able to fool everyone else, but she didn’t fool her.

Sara dumped the rest of her coffee in the sink and rinsed her cup.  Catherine didn’t say another word, and neither did she.  She walked out without as much as a glance in her direction.

HER LAST DAY started with a dead woman in the trunk of a car.  Much to her surprise, Grissom again paired her with him.  Sara had expected him to assign her to lab duty, to finish up some paperwork on their recent cases, not to put her on a new one.  But he didn’t, and if he’d been keeping a close eye on her in the previous two weeks, he barely left her side that day.

His gaze wandered to her frequently.  She tried to ignore it, but every once in a while she’d look up and find him studying her.  He looked like he wanted to say something, and Sara would brace herself for what she’d by then figured was inevitable.  But he’d clamp his mouth shut and get back to work.

Until they were alone in the garage, processing the car. 

They were working in companionable silence, Sara dusting the dash board for prints while he searched for evidence in the back seat, when she heard him say softly, “I'll miss you.” 

For a second she thought she had imagined it.  She tossed him a glance over her shoulder, but he didn’t look up from his work.  She gave her head a quick shake and gave the steering wheel a swirl of her brush.      

“Will you miss me?” he asked then in a tight voice.

Her head snapped up, and her eyes skimmed his gaze before looking away abruptly.  There was something almost surreal about Grissom asking her that, a man who had rarely exchanged a personal word with her.  Well not in more than a year, anyway. 

Her brush and powder forgotten, she wondered how she would answer his question.  In the past two weeks she’d pondered how she felt about leaving Vegas, her friends, starting a new life and a new job in Boston, but she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on how it would feel to leave him.  And she wasn’t thrilled that he was forcing her to do that now.  She crinkled her brow.  A quick and casual ‘sure’ would have been a polite way to answer that, but as the seconds ticked by, its time had come and passed.  The truth was that she wasn’t sure how she felt, other than dead inside.  How could she know if she would miss him when she came alive again…if she ever came alive again?  And that was really all she could say.

She lifted her eyes to his.  “I don’t know.” 

His chin fell dejectedly onto his chest, and a cold fist wrapped around her heart.  She finished up quickly and gathered her kit and the evidence she’d collected, and left him in the garage.

At six-thirty in the morning, a half hour before the end of her last shift at the Vegas crime lab, Grissom paged her to meet him in autopsy.  It wasn’t an unusual request under normal circumstances, but she couldn’t figure out why her presence would matter now.  And she was also concerned about the time.  She couldn’t afford to leave late if she wanted to finish packing and make her eleven o’clock flight to Boston. 

But he didn’t know that.  And if she looked at it positively, it would give her an opportunity to say goodbye to David. 

Grissom was already there when she arrived.  She slipped into the room and took her place beside him.  David acknowledged her with a warm smile, which she returned.

“What's the cause of death,” Grissom snapped.

“Drowning,” David responded, surprising them both.  They exchanged a quick glance.

David went on to explain his findings, leading the investigation in an entirely different direction, and when he was through, Grissom thanked him and started to leave.  He was at the door when he realized Sara wasn’t following.  He turned and looked at her quizzically.  “Coming?”

She shook her head.  “I’ll be right out.”   Her eyes locked with his then.  She knew this would be the last time she’d see him, and wondered if he sensed it as well.  She allowed herself a last look and wished she could have taken a smile away with her.  But he wasn’t smiling and she couldn’t bring herself to smile either.

He hesitated a few seconds longer, his gaze unreadable, and then he gave her a brief nod and pushed open the door.

It took Sara a moment to compose herself after the door swung closed behind Grissom.  But then she dragged her gaze up to David and gave him a weak smile.

“There’s nothing more I can tell you about this case, Sara.”

“I know.  I just, uh…wanted to talk to you.”

He smiled shyly and his eyes didn’t quite meet hers.  “You did?  What about?”

And at that moment she realized she had no idea what to say to him.  He was very sweet, adorable really, and she knew he liked her…had always liked her.  And then she remembered something he’d said to her a long time ago.  She pursed her lips playfully.  “I just wanted to say that I admire the gusto with which you do your job.”

David blushed furiously.  She hadn’t meant to embarrass him and was about to apologize when a corner of his mouth pulled back in a self-mocking grin.  “You told me to lose the coat, drop the glasses and grow some scruff.”  He glanced at her.  “So tell me, Sara, why Grissom?”

Her eyes widened in alarm.  “Uh…h-how,” she stammered, shaking her head in confusion.

“You look at him the way I imagine I look at you.”

Her long breath was one of relief.  She’d feared the grapevine more than anything.  “I’m sorry, David.”

His lips twitched in a semblance of a smile.  “Did you give the same speech to Grissom?  I noticed he grew some scruff.”

“Nope.  He must have read my mind.”  She went around the table and kissed him on the cheek.  “Don’t change, David.  You’re perfect just the way you are.”

She left him looking a little flustered, but pleased.

AN HOUR LATER, Sara was putting the last of her clothes in the largest carry-on bag she owned, which made it a little bulky, and she hoped airline personnel wouldn’t rule it too large.  She hated checking in luggage.  Something always ended up getting lost.

She’d managed to leave the lab without any fuss.  She’d run into Brass on her way out of the building and said goodbye to him, but he hadn’t picked up on it and said goodnight to her.  She’d also bumped into Nick and Warrick in the parking lot and they’d teased her about leaving early, which she wasn’t, of course, but it was unusual for her to leave the lab right at seven.   

She’d already called the cab company and ordered a driver for nine, and gone through her fridge, throwing out all perishables.  She’d probably have to throw everything else out when she came back since none of it would travel well to Boston, but it could wait until then.

She looked around her tiny apartment, devoid of all personality now that most of her things had been carefully packed away in the boxes stacked against the walls.  As soon as she found a place in Boston, she’d hire a moving company.   

Her gaze landed on the orchid she’d tended to with such love and care.  It was such a delicate plant, so fragile, her only connection to Grissom, and it would undoubtedly be dead when she returned from Boston.  She caressed the flower with unsteady fingers as her eyes filled with tears.  It’s only a plant, she reminded herself, but it had become so much more to her over the years.  Like a pet.  Something she talked to, that kept her company. 

It depressed her to think about it now, but it also made her face the fact that it was high time she moved on.  She’d been a shell of a person for too long, living for her work and a tiny hope that someday Grissom would return her feelings.  Everything she’d done almost from the moment she’d come to Vegas had revolved around that, and in the end they’d both disappointed her.  She hadn’t lived at all.  And it wasn’t who she was.  It wasn’t who she wanted to be.

She heard the soft knock on her door and glanced at her watch.  Her cab was a little early, but she didn’t mind.  Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to leave her apartment and put the farce her life had become behind her.  “Be right there,” she shouted as she zipped up the last compartment on her travel bag.

The knock came again, and thinking he hadn’t heard her, Sara flung open the door.  Her heart leaped to her throat when she saw not the cab driver standing there, but… “Grissom?” 

His lip twitched and he shoved his hands in his pockets.  “Hi, Sara.”

“Why are you here?”

“May I come in?”

Sara gave him a long, searching look and gestured impatiently for him to enter.  She left him at the door and marched to her closet to get her winter jacket and boots.  Her cab would be here any minute and she really didn’t have time for this…whatever his reasons for showing up unexpectedly at her door were.  She hadn’t even realized he knew where she lived.

She strung her boot laces together to make them easier to carry and turned back to him, her jacket flung over her arm. 

His eyes darted around her small apartment, taking in the boxes, her travel bag, and then they arrested on her.  “You’re leaving,” he said in an accusatory tone.

She dropped her jacket and boots on the small couch.  “Uh…yeah.”  Duh!  “I told you that two weeks ago, Grissom.”

“I didn’t realize…”  He looked at her winter gear.  “Where’re you going?”

What do you care?  But, of course, she didn’t say that.  “Boston.”

He frowned.  “That’s three-thousand miles away!  Why Boston?”

“I used to live there?  I have friends there?” she started impatiently, and then softened her tone.  What was the point of getting angry now?  “I miss a white Christmas,” she added sadly, reminding them both that it was only a few days away.  At least this year she wouldn’t be spending it alone.

He stood stiffly in the middle of the room, staring at her.  He still hadn’t said why he’d come here, and suddenly it dawned on her.  She’d almost forgotten.  “Oh, I forgot.  I left my gun and my pager and my cell phone in my locker at work,” she said.  She looked around for a pen and suddenly realized they were all packed away.  “Uh…do you have a pen?”

His eyes narrowed and he reached into the inside breast pocket of his jacket for his pen and handed it to her.  She ripped a small piece off the top corner of yesterday’s newspaper that was lying on the breakfast bar, and scribbled on it.  “Here’s the combination,” she said, handing him back the pen and the piece of paper.

“Well, it appears you thought of everything,” he said in a strangled voice, “except coming to say goodbye before you left.”  She only felt a twinge of guilt.  He abruptly shoved the pen and the piece of paper into his breast pocket and took a few steps further into the room.  “Is this the one I sent you?” he asked, pointing at the orchid.

“Yes.”

“You took good care of it.”

She went to stand beside him and touched a petal lovingly.  She shook her head.  “I nurtured it for two years to keep it alive only to leave it behind to die,” she said sadly.  She felt his gaze on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. 

“I think I know how that orchid feels,” he said softly.  She glanced at him sharply and moved away.  “Sara—”

“My cab’s going to be here any minute.”  She quieted the flutter in her heart and as if on cue, there was a strong knock at the door.  She opened the door to an older gentleman with a friendly smile.

He glanced over her shoulder and, noticing the state of her apartment, asked her if she needed help with her things.

Sara thanked him, handed him her bulky black travel bag, and told him she’d be right out.  Then she turned to Grissom who was staring at her with an odd expression on his face.

“You’re really doing this,” he said, as if he hadn't believed until now that she was really leaving, and for some reason that irritated her.

He looked agitated and annoyed, and he still hadn’t told her what he was doing there, but she could hazard a guess.  He thought he could just show up at her door and get her to reconsider.  Well, surprise! Grissom.  Maybe she should have been flattered by his reluctance to accept her resignation, but she wasn’t.  If he didn’t want her to leave, he should have thought of that a long time ago.  “I have to go,” she said remembering that she had a cab waiting.  She went to the couch and picked up her jacket and boots, then looked at him pointedly, willing him to get moving. 

But he didn’t.

“Sara, it’s not too late to change your mind.  No one knows you resigned.  You could—“

“I don’t want to change my mind.”  She let out a heavy, frustrated sigh.  “I’m sorry, but I really have to go.”

He raked his fingers through his hair in a frustrated gesture and left the room, but he waited for her in the hallway. 

Sara grabbed her handbag and gave her apartment a cursory glance to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.  Her eyes caught the orchid again and she thought of what it would look like when she returned.  Suddenly, she couldn’t bear to let such a beautiful thing wilt and die.  “Do you want it?” she asked Grissom, and when his eyes registered his puzzlement she said, “The orchid.  You could give it away if you don’t want to keep it…”

He cleared his throat.  “I’ll take care of it for you,” he said, and he followed her out to the waiting cab with the orchid tucked safely under his arm. 

At the cab, her eyes locked with his for an awkward moment.  She wished he hadn’t come here.  She’d so carefully avoided having to say goodbye to him and he’d screwed that up.  And it took everything in her to keep her heart intact as she looked at him.  He looked like a man about to crumble, and she wondered if it was guilt that had driven him here.

“Goodbye, Grissom.”  She smiled then.  “Thanks for…”  For what?  Breaking my heart?  “…adopting my plant,” she said.  She touched his arm and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, surprising herself as much as him by her uncharacteristic display of affection. 

And before she could move away, his free hand shot up and captured her cheek.  “Sara…”  His eyes raked her face, then landed on her lips.

Her heart flip-flopped when she realized he was going to kiss her. 

Step away, Sara.  But her feet wouldn’t move.

His lips touched hers gently at first, and when she offered no resistance, his mouth moved more passionately over hers.  It was a brief kiss, but it still knocked the breath from her, and when it ended they were both gasping for air.  She let him hug her to him for a quick moment, and then afraid that if she didn’t go now she’d never be able to leave, she flattened her palm against his chest, stepped back and almost jumped into the backseat of the cab.

“Go,” she said to the driver as she slammed the door behind her, and with a sympathetic glance, he stepped on the accelerator.

SARA MADE IT through airport security with time to spare so she stopped by a newsstand to pick up a couple of magazines to keep her mind occupied on the long flight ahead.  Grissom’s surprising visit to her apartment still weighed heavily on her mind, and her mouth still tingled from his kiss.  It was all a little surreal and more than ironic.  All the times she’d fantasized about him kissing her, it had always signified the beginning of a relationship with him, not the end of it.

When she heard the pre-boarding announcement for her flight, she quickly paid for her purchases and made her way to the gate.  And then she came to an abrupt stop when she saw him standing there. 

“Grissom!  What are you doing here?”

His step was hesitant as he approached her.  “I need to talk to you.”

“How did you get past security?  I didn’t think they allowed—“

“I had to buy a ticket,” he interrupted her impatiently.  And then his voice softened.  “Sara…I can’t let you go.”

“What?  This is not your decision.”

“That’s not what I mean.”  There was something in his