WARNING: Slight spoiler for season 5 premiere. Late response to the Unbound Challenge.
These characters are not mine. They belong to people who have alot more money than I do.
Thanks to Nessa, by beta. She held my hand through this and is the Grammar Queen! All hail!
Sara read her journal, ignoring the pouting figure seated opposite her. Nick was really beginning to get on her nerves, or make her lose her nerve, whichever came first. On top of that he would not stop talking with his mouth full.
"Come on Sara, you go on vacation without telling anyone, you come in here brooding over some journal and you have an appointment to see Grissom-what gives?"
"It's none of your business, Nick. Can you just pretend that I'm not here and eat your lunch!"
Sara didn't mean to snap at Nick but she really wanted to review what she needed to say -- no, what she wanted to say to Grissom. This was going to be hard enough already. She didn't need Nick asking too many questions.
It had been two weeks since she was pulled over. Two weeks since Grissom took her home. Two weeks since he kissed her. Two weeks since, after said kiss, he turned on his heel and left in a panic. One week and six days since she had started therapy.
Three times a week with Dr. Knight sounded excessive at first, but then she always did things wholeheartedly. She needed to get better, she wanted to get better. Her journal was something that the good doctor suggested along with speaking to her supervisor. Because that is what Grissom is, not her friend, not her lover-her supervisor.
Not for the first time Sara considered leaving Las Vegas. Hank, the explosion, Suzanne Kirkwood, Debbie Marlin, the promotion, the reasons go on and on. She'd never quit though. Things had to change. Her relationship with Grissom had to change. It wasn't the fact that he held her hand that surprised her. Nor was it that in place of anger and disappointment, he showed concern and tenderness. What did surprise her was her lack of surprise when he ran away after he kissed her. It was then that she knew.
Just then Grissom poked his head into the breakroom, not quite meeting her eyes, "Hey, Sara. You ready?"
"Yep." This is what is good for me. This is what I need, I mean what I want. You can do this, Sara.
The walk to his office ended quicker than she thought it would. After closing the door behind them, he sits in his chair and motions for her to do the same. It was then that their eyes lock. His concern was evident, as was his shame. OK, now I'm nervous.
"You didn't need to make an appointment to see me," he said, an uneasy smile, "you guys know that unless I'm on a case, I'm bound to this paperwork."
"Well, I, uh, I really need to talk with you. To request something, rather."
"What is it?"
"I've been thinking about the promotion and, uh, some other things, too."
"About the promotion? Sara, if this is about the reason I gave about recommending Nick," she cut him off with her hand.
"It is about that, Grissom. It's also about every other professional slap-down I got this past year. I don't have your trust and I need to know why." She tried not to let her anger show through her words but her job is her only constant and she will protect it fiercely.
Shock couldn't begin to describe the look on Grissom's face, "I do trust you. You are one of the best CSIs I've ever worked with."
"Good, you can put that in my review. That's my request. When I come back next week I'd like a review of my performance this past year. I need to know what my strengths and weaknesses are so that I can better serve the team and the victims. Can I make an appointment for next week?"
Grissom, a little perplexed by this whole meeting, flipped through his day planner. Clearing his throat he said, "I, uh, have court next Tuesday. How about Wednesday, just before shift?"
"I can be here." Now for the hard part, "There's something else I need to discuss with you. It's about the other night."
"Good. I'm glad you brought that up." Taking a deep breath as to summon courage, he said, "I need to apologize."
"Grissom," she interrupted.
"Sara, please, let me say this." Not letting her respond, he continues, "I'm not sorry I kissed you---I'm sorry that I ran. I just don't know what to do about this." He cringed as those familiar words left his mouth. Those same words were all the encouragement Sara needed.
"I knew what to do then and I know what to do now." It's time for me to say my rehearsed lines. Breathe in-breathe out. This is what you need, Sara-want, this is what you want. Griping her journal, "It's too late." There, I said it.
His wince at her words does not go by unnoticed. She feels the same sting
"Sara,"
She tightens her hold on her journal once again in hopes that the words from it would seep into her. She studied it enough. This is what I want. "I thought it could never be too late, but now, I think it has to be."
"Why, Sara?" he chokes out. At the same time she feels that familiar lump forming in her throat.
He looks at her with a question in his eyes. "Our friendship isn't there anymore, neither is our trust for one another."
"I told you, I do trust you." The disbelief in his expression is almost her undoing.
"I heard your interrogation of Dr. Lurie."
"You were there?" It was barely a whisper but in the quiet of his office, she heard it clearly.
She nods, "You don't trust me or my feelings for you. Everything you said to Dr. Lurie comes down to your lack of trust in me. That's OK though, because I don't trust you either. Loving you hurts, Grissom and I don't trust you with my heart anymore."
"You love me?" he asks, unbelieving.
He's breaking my heart, again. Keep going and get out of here. This is what you want. Ignoring his question, "I'm sorry but I need to move on." The look that he gives her is not one she is familiar with, but the silence that has now taken over the room is.
"Look, I'll see you next week."
As she turns to leave she is stopped by his strangled voice, "You've given up."
I was not a question but she answers anyway, "Yes."
He then asked something she was not prepared for, "What if I haven't?"
"I don't know what to tell you." She turned and walked out of his office with her journal, her lifeline, still in her hands. I did it. It's done.
That was easier than Sara thought it would be.