It’s A Mystery

A/N: Thanks to those of you who will review me kindly and constructively. And for those who won’t, sticks and stones. Your flames are merely words. Throw at me what you will.

Sara Sidle’s hope was fading in and out, just like Grissom’s hearing. Even though he fixed that stale plotline a few years back and his hearing was perfectly fine now. Yes. Her hope was fading in and out like his hearing. What else did she have to do to convince Grissom that he should love her, and only her, forever and ever? I mean, she had already asked him to sleep with her out of fear, eat dinner with her when he had an important appointment, and wipe dust (Not chalk dust, mind you. Drywall dust. There’s a difference, is there not?) off his face in a dark alleyway. And she said that gray hair is attractive. Come on, they’re meant to be. Not to mention, he squeezed her hand and called her honey! In different situations of course; he couldn’t squeeze her hand when he called her honey, her hand was split open. And he wouldn’t want to hurt her in any way, definitely not. He wouldn’t want to shut her out and disregard her feelings and… oh, bother. Now if that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is. Because I’m Ecklie, and I’ve had a lot of experience with love. Yep. Years of experience. Right up until my wife left me for another woman.

What was I saying? Oh, yes. Why Grissom and Sara should be together. Hmm. Well, she definitely shouldn’t be with Greg, that’s for sure. I mean, who wants to wake up every morning next to that? Dirty blonde hair framing his face perfectly, nicely sculpted body, compliments constantly flowing from his mouth, which could also form a heart-melting smile. That’s just ridiculous. And his level of intelligence! Who wants to talk to someone who uses big words like dignity, responsibility, and integrity? Not me. I mean, who even knows what those words mean? And his ability to speak a second language, make people laugh, and take a pay cut to do something he loves? Not attractive at all.

Grissom just doesn’t know what he’s missing. He could have a woman who was born while he was in high school! Isn’t that hot? A man who’s 49, who will be 50 on August 17, getting together with a woman who’s 35, who will be 36 on September 16? And it would’ve been illegal for them to have sex any time before he was 32, if they had met each other earlier. Pardon me if you don’t think that’s super sexy. I just hope that if they do get together and have sex in the janitor’s closet, his back doesn’t go out. Or if they have a child, it doesn’t mistake him for his or her grandfather. Now that would be awkward.

But like I said. Sara’s hope is fading. I should probably insert another broken metaphor here, something about a fading sunset or some crap like that, but I don’t have the time. I mean, would you be able to hold out hope if it still felt awkward to call the one you’re after by their first name, instead having to settle for a portion of their last name? Wouldn’t it be funny if his name was Gil Sui? Then if he married Sara in some desperate attempt to find a mate… I mean… true love… then she could keep her name and take his, too. Sui-Sidle. See? It sounds like suicidal. And I think that’s funny. Like potatoes that look like celebrities. Or when I prank call people to tell them that their husband is in jail because he killed ten people. Now that’s just hilarious.

Damn. Lost my train of thought. Again. Oh, right, right. Grissom and Sara.

Actually, it might be a bad idea for them to get together. If she were ever to sleep over at his house, his pets (cockroaches and such) might eat her alive. And that wouldn’t be good… right, Nick? Anyhow… like I was saying, it might be a bad idea. And if he was to sleep at her house, the incessantly blinking red zero on her answering machine might keep him awake all night. Either that, or the sound of Greg’s steady snoring, as he sleeps on the floor of her walk-in closet, waiting for her to take her mid-morning ‘nap’ with him.

Wait. I knew I had a point. Oh, yeah. Okay, so… Grissom and Sara. Gil and Sidle. G-man and his butterfly. Grandpa and his… no, that just sounds awkward.

Personally, I think Grissom still has a chance. So long as he doesn’t give any more self-depreciating, slightly past mid-life crisis speeches while Sara’s on the other side of a two-way mirror. That would be bad. Maybe he’d have more luck if he stood outside of a window and watched on as Sara has a makeshift clay knife being held to her neck by an incestuous psychopath. No, no, wait. Did that already.

Hmm. Maybe he could take Catherine out to dinner and tell her how much he’s been missing her tush lately. Or maybe he could flirt with some more forensic anthropologists and then ditch them. Oh, wait. He’s done that too. This man is a genius! Flirt with women he has no chance with, reject the only one he actually stood a chance with, and eat chocolate covered bugs and ride roller coasters on his day off. Why didn’t I think of that? Brilliant, brilliant man. But you know what would have been an even smarter idea? To pair her up with Sanders! That way, she’d have a muscular, handsome, smart, younger man to work side-by-side with in the middle of the night who, uh… wait, he already did that too. Wow, I should really be taking love lessons from him!

So why isn’t Sara his yet? He does everything right, and so does she. They both work excessive amounts, keep to themselves, and constantly resent each other. They should be rolling around on his desk right now, making out.

But I guess some things are just a mystery.

Oh, look, my script for the week just came in the mail. Hmm… elevator shaft? I fall where? Whose funeral? Oh, no.

That can’t be good.