Title: Six Months

Summary: 'It's been awhile since I talked to you/Nothing wrong/Just nothing ever goes as planned' A resignation and a bargain [GS]

Pairings: Grissom/Sara

Rating: PG 13

Category: Drama/Romance

Author's Notes: Okay, so I wrote this stream-of-conscious in about an hour. Damn sleepiness made it impossible to type.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, sad as I may be to admit it.


The envelope was so perfectly ordinary it mocked him from it's location on Gil Grissom's desk. A letter of resignation, signed by one Sara Sidle. He had hoped that somehow it wouldn't come to this, that somehow she'd magically get her head on straight and go back to the vivacious and stubborn woman he knew.

It hadn't happened, and the last two years were still a reality. For all her privacy issues, she had been very open in the beginning. Not about her life itself, but she never hid the facts either. Honest to a fault, she would answer any question you posed. Nowadays you were lucky if she looked at you.

"Hey," she said.

He looked up. She stood at the doorway, the way she had before... things.

"Come in, Sara."

Her face betrayed her brief confusion, but she quickly masked it and entered. She stood behind a chair and placed her hands on its back, her knuckles white with the pressure she exerted.

"You got my letter," she stated.

"Yes," confirmed Grissom. "This isn't the right time Sara."

"Well I'm sorry that it inconveniences you. Or the lab. Though I don't think there's much of a difference, is there?"

He sighed and closed his eyes briefly. In that moment he looked old, sick and weary of life's cares.

"This isn't about inconvenience. Just because IA ruled the shooting righteous doesn't mean this won't affect your record. You leave now and it looks like you're running; wait six months and it looks like you're moving up and out."

"You have a lot of nerve, you know that?" she hissed.

Turning on her heel, she strode to the door. He had expected this, expected her to leave in a huff and return next shift in a better mood. She didn't though, instead choosing to close his door and come back to the chair. She stood there for a moment, her eyes dark in anger and her arms crossed across her chest.

"You of all people are lecturing me on politics?"

She was royally pissed. And a pissed off Sara was not a nice thing to deal with.

"I have a lot more experience than you."

"This is bullshit politics, and we both know it. And it absolutely disgusts me that you're standing there and telling me what my actions would look like to other labs. My God Grissom, what happened to you? You…" her voice hitched, but she soldiered through. "You used to be the best. It was an honour to work with you, because you were about the science and the evidence and the truth. Not this political crap. Then the next thing I know, you hate me and play political footsies with the likes Cavallo, Ecklie and Mobley."

"I'm still about the truth," he said, feeling like he was lecturing a two year old.

"Oh yeah? When was the last time you ran an experiment?"

He didn't have an answer.

"Exactly my point, Griss. You're so busy being supervisor you can't manage to act like a CSI. Every time I go into the field with you, every action is scrutinized. I'll give you a hint. I've been doing this for eight years. I can handle routine collections by myself; I don't need Daddy Grissom watching me like a goddamn hawk."

"Oddly enough, I know that Sara. You're a good CSI-"

"Obviously not good enough," she cut in vehemently.

He finally understood.

"Is this about the promotion?"


Or maybe he didn't.

"This isn't about the promotion. This isn't about the hamburger, or the fact you won't even look me in the eyes. This is about the fact that I want out. Out of Vegas, out of Nevada, out of the entire southwest. There's a lab in New York hiring, and the Feds would accept me. I've been told as much. I want out, don't you get that? Because I am so sick of having to watch as you become so political decoy that doesn't know the first thing about his team…"

"That's not true."

Damn, he really thought he had been making progress lately. He was apparently wrong.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry, but it is. And I don't want to work under these conditions. I'd like to leave when there's still some self respect left. Because no matter what, I care… cared… for you. I'd like to be able to look back and remember the way you were; because even if I couldn't have you I could at least delude myself into thinking about the possibility, How pathetic is that?"

She fell silent all of the sudden, as if she had just realized what she was saying.

"You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything. I've given you my two week notice, and that's all that we need."

She released her grip on the chair violently and strode to the door. She was through with this, and they both knew it. Still, she stopped, one hand on the doorknob when he called her name.

"I won't ask you to stay Sara. We both know the lab needs you here, but you deserve to be happy."

She had turned to face him, and the look on her face clearly betrayed her thoughts. The sentiments ran along the lines of 'Screw off, I'm tired of this game.'

"Just give it six months. Let this investigation blow over before you quit."

She was unmoved, so he pleaded with her.

"Six months Sara, that's it. I won't try to change your mind; God knows it wouldn't do any good. Just six months, it's all I ask. Let me find someone to fill the position, if that's what you want."

Her ramrod straight posture relaxed a bit. She had caved, again.

"I'll give it six months," she sighed. "It's not like my life's going to magically get better if I leave, so a few months won't make a difference. But you have to agree; don't ask me to stay at the end. Don't pull some crap that makes it impossible to leave. Nothing."


She gave a faux smile and left the office quickly.

"But six months is a long time honey," he whispered to her retreating figure. "It's enough time for you to change your mind about a lot of things. And maybe it's even long enough for me to change."