Disclaimer: Not mine. Never have been. Which sucks, but you know, 'tis the life of the fanfic writer.

A/N: I'm taking a break from Circumstances. This doesn't mean I'm fleeing from it, never to return again. It means I'm taking a break, but it'll be finished, most likely some time in April though, just warning you.

That said, this is a complete change of pace. I don't even know where it came from. I usually feel that I'm terrible with angst, my style usually crumbles with jokes or snide remarks, but this time, I'm happy with it. Beyond happy in fact. Blissful. At the moment, this is all I have…I may add a second chapter of hot kinky sex, but not on Cause is so not down with the hot kinky sex. It all depends on the fickleness of my muse. Oh and the reviews too. REVIEW! CONCRIT IS GOOD! TELL ME HOW MUCH I SUCK AND WHY!

Oh and thanks to Cybrokat for her betaing, and constant encouragement. Not to mention the shameless flattering. My God this is a long author's note…

Spoilers: Um, if you know who they are…you should be okay.

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He hadn't expected Sara to be there. In fact, he'd never expected Sara to be anywhere, and yet she was still sinking into every corner and crevice of his heart and soul until some days he ached with the painful realization of what he'd let slip away.

And yet, here she was, at the head of the convention hall, talking about something which Grissom was incapable of wrapping his mind around at the moment because the mere sound of her voice re-opened old wounds, and he was seized with fear and a desire to merely turn around and flee. It was too late though, because she had spotted him.

Though their eyes had met for only an instant, they exchanged an infinite amount of communication with that single glance. They always knew what the other was thinking, and it was this intense almost evasive feeling which Grissom had always balked from in days of yore, and yet something made him stay in his seat until Sara was finished with her lecture and people began filing out of the convention hall.

Then cold fear seized him, as realization struck him. He remembered the reason why he hadn't expected Sara to be there. He had come here to see Sara Pelowski speak at this convention, not Sara Sidle. Obviously, Sara was married. He felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach, as though every little ounce of hope he'd ever clung to during dark days was just sucked away from him. She was happy, she'd moved on, and yet here he was, always sitting still, staying in one place.

"What are you doing here?" Sara asked, her tone completely unassuming as she met him.

Grissom still sat slumped in the convention chair, and shrugged in response, "You look good," he said as an answer, although he was really in no position to comment on how Sara looked as he avoided looking at her.

Sara heaved a sigh. Grissom shoved his hands in his pockets. He felt frustrated that he couldn't say more, say what he wanted to say, confess to the whole world his jumbled mix of emotions. He could never speak around Sara, and yet instinctively she always knew what he was thinking.

"I-It's ok. It's a pleasant surprise to see you," Sara started, though her tone betrayed no sign of the joviality of her words as she desperately tried to force away the silence that surrounded them.

Grissom nodded and stood up, "Well, it's been nice seeing you."

Sara bit her lip furiously, "Wait! No…listen, I-Let's have dinner. I mean, if I saw Warrick or Nick or Greg or hell, even Catherine, I'd have dinner with them. That's the least you owe me. Please. We can't always leave it like this."

Sara was almost pleading and Grissom finally managed to look her in the eyes. The moment he saw her, truly saw her, he was knew he couldn't say no. There was something in her eyes that captivated him, that had always captivated him. He nodded a silent agreement to her offer.

Grissom had walked from his hotel to the convention so they took Sara's car. They barely spoke on the ride, and Sara wordlessly picked out a restaurant. The atmosphere of the place was perhaps a bit more intimate than what Sara would've felt most comfortable with.

They ordered, still maintaining the strained silence. It was laughable that after five years, Grissom couldn't bring himself to speak to this woman. It seemed like only yesterday when Sara had wordlessly handed in her letter of resignation. He'd tried to protest, but she stopped him.

"I just can't be here anymore Grissom. Whatever you say isn't going to change that. I just can't do this any longer," She'd said.

Those words still haunted him; the dejectedness in her tone, her body language. At that moment she had been the picture of defeat. And it was all his doing.

Here he was, sitting across from her, trying to examine her like a piece of evidence, trying to understand what he'd done wrong. The sheer absurdity of it hit him and he broke the silence with a bitter laugh.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"The same thing we've always done; nothing."

He blinked at her, and tried to shake the haunted look from his eyes, "So you're married."

"Yeah. His name's Jake. He's a dermatologist."

Grissom unconsciously clenched his teeth, and his eyes shot towards the table cloth. It frustrated him that he derived pain from this mere statement, but he seemed to be unable to control his reactions at the moment.

He cursed himself, he cursed the convention. He cursed his actual desire to spend time away from work that had driven him to go to this silly convention, in Seattle of all places. He had to run away from work because he couldn't be happy there anymore, but all he'd done was learn that he couldn't be happy anywhere any longer. A bleak dull numbness settled over him.

The waiter brought their food. Grissom mainly picked at it, knowing consciously that he had no stomach for food anymore.

Sara suddenly set down her utensils unexpectedly and looked at him fixedly, "Are we going to just pretend like this all didn't happen? Just walk away tomorrow and pretend like we never knew each other, never saw each other here?"

She noticed he looked markedly older than she remembered him, or perhaps it was just the way he had flinched at her words. He twirled his fork in his hand absently and finally looked up at her.

They remained like that for a long time, then his eyes dropped back down, as though the words he were about to say were to painful to say while facing her.

"I've been a fool. I knew, almost from the moment I set eyes on you, that I couldn't live without you. At the very same time, I couldn't take the risk. I was afraid that if I let you become close to me, you'd see all my failures, and you'd go away from me. So I did nothing, in an effort to still keep you close to me. I did nothing to keep you to me, and because of that you were gone."

He paused, took a sip of his drink and then unexpectedly started up again, "I know it's a selfish thing for one person to be so dependent upon another, but it was beyond my control. It was infuriating and powerful and…nice. It drove me crazy, but it made me feel alive. And now, there's nothing left to live for, and my whole life seems…dry."

Sara was choked with tears. Grissom shook his head wordlessly, amazed at his constant ability to hurt Sara. He stood up without another word and placed a wad of cash on the table and walked out of the restaurant, mumbling about taking a cab.

He thought he heard Sara calling to him, but he reasoned that his ears where just playing tricks of desperation on him.

He managed to completely detach himself from the world on the cab ride home. He was aware briefly of fleeing emotions struggling turbulently under his mask of numbness, but he felt he could only address them when he'd come safely to his hotel. At that moment all he felt was totally and completely inhuman. The feeling reminded him vaguely of a ghost story he'd once heard about a ghost who always tried to make his way home by hailing a cab every night, but during the cab ride, he would remember that he was a ghost, and he would slide through the cab and end up back where he started.

It was ironic, just the kind of story that applied to Grissom. He was a ghost who was always doing something to get him nowhere.

He arrived at the hotel. He got in the elevator. He stood in front of his room. He fiddled with his magnetized key. He listed these actions as he took them to try to give an added clarity to his life, all to no avail.

Once he'd entered his room he broke down, smashing his fist into the wall repeatedly until a tiny dent had formed and his knuckles were bruised and bloody. He bit his lip until it bled as he fought back the bitter tears of resentment welling up inside him.

He washed his face in the sink, to clear his thoughts, but nothing could clear his thoughts anymore. He couldn't even manage to look himself in the mirror, when he heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" he asked, his voice a rasp.

"It's me," and she needed no more introduction.

He opened the door hesitantly, and could tell from her reaction that he looked like hell, "How'd you find me?"

"I'm not stupid. I knew you're hotel was in walking distance of the convention, which narrows it down to approximately six hotels in the area. I saw a magnetic key card in your wallet when you opened it in the restaurant, which narrows it down to four. From there, I just went and asked if Gil Grissom was staying at any of them. This is only my second hotel; I guess I'm pretty lucky in that respect."

Grissom nodded dumbly.

Sara saw it was clear he didn't have anything left to say, "Listen. I didn't want you to leave the restaurant. I was just…shocked at what you'd said. My life sucks too if it's any consolation. Work is boring; the San Francisco lab just isn't the same after being in Vegas. Truth be told, I haven't actually talked to Jake in four months in a setting outside court proceedings. I was stupid, jumping on the first guy who even looked at me, and it turned out he looks at everyone else too, including the maid who doesn't speak English and our accountant."

Sara rolled her eyes at herself and continued, "I had to leave Vegas, because at the time, I wasn't happy. I couldn't be happy anymore, I couldn't live. I needed something, and it was missing, it was something that you just couldn't give. So I went back home, and I was just as unhappy, and I made the worst decision of my life and married a lecher. I was looking for something, and I could never find it their either. God, what I'm trying to say is…It's not too late Grissom…God for me at least it's not too late, but…it's all up to you. There's something there, between us. Even when you're making me feel miserable…you're right…it's nice."

They were silent for a moment. Grissom tilted his head from side to side, and then he leaned forward very carefully and planted a kiss on Sara's forehead.

Sara sighed happily, and rested her chin on Grissom's shoulder, "Where do we go from here?"

Grissom shook his head, "It's just enough to be here now. Just…be here. I've spent enough time not knowing where I was going, right now I just want to know where I am."