The food, the cool, quiet room, the shower refreshed both from the long flight and change in time, but neither made an effort to leave this private oasis. They had always been private with their affections and rings on fingers did not alter this. Grissom had folded back bed covers after their shower knowing Sara was exhausted?he was exhausted?but both stayed on the balcony long after food was eaten, occasionally talking as Grissom thumbed a tourist guide book.
He asked a question and, getting no answer, realized she was asleep in the chaise lounge. Closing the book, he watched her sleep and remembered?
?During his life he had been interested and attracted too many women from time to time. His mother had maintained a strong guidance when it came to pursuing females or his studies and he had developed a certain cautious respect for women at a young age. When he entered college, he had been on the giving and receiving end of the usual experiences. Yet, his mother?s standards, the memory of loving and respectful parents, and his own intelligence checked the wildest passions of youth.
He had been infatuated; he had experienced desire, and acted on a few of these. But when the rush of feelings had passed, he managed to right himself, often discovering he had been used as well as user in a fleeting relationship. At some point, he realized that some women wanted him for financial security, as the father to children they hoped to have, but only rarely did a woman seek to find him for his true self.
By the time he graduated, he left the social company of females to others and sought professional associations?women became secondary and his work became his primary companion. Later, the constant, increasing work of his career filled any void that might have occurred as each year followed another. He found a few solitary diversions until a dark haired young woman standing at a microphone had asked a question about his just completed presentation. She was one of the few females in the audience and had been the first person on her feet when he finished. By her second question, he knew he had found a special person?and all these years later, he could recall the few days spent in San Francisco with extreme clarity.
He remembered her dark eyes flashing with intellectual curiosity, with bubbling laughter that started as a quiet chuckle?a giggle he loved even today. Just as quickly as their relationship began, it was over. He flew back to work; she returned to hers, and other than a photograph, he had no reason to remember her. Except he did.
Two years would pass before she moved to Las Vegas to be with him. Two years that he remembered as passionate, exploring, confirmation of the early bond he felt for Sara. Yet, he would be guilty of playing with her emotions, raising her hopes for what could not be between them. He became her supervisor; he worked more, he drank with Jim Brass, he tried to avoid being alone with her at work only to find he could not resist having her near. He visited her after work?she always welcomed him without question to talk, to eat, for sex. The day she volunteered to be a victim?stared him down as he refused to approve her action?caused a shift in his own emotions. How could he love a person who was so independent, so stubborn, so calm and determined to go against his wishes?
She always loved him, he thought.
Never had he let anyone claim him?he took certain pride in being an observer of life?not a participant in caring and giving and loving he watched in others. Never could he have anticipated that one woman?a girl?could exist who could disrupt his contrived existence. Except Sara did.
She would turn, glance at him, meet his eyes, know he was in the room before anyone else. She provoked him. She calmed him. She would be cheeky, flirty, laughter erupting from her lips that brought a smile to his lips before he remember being her supervisor, her secret lover, or too old, or too independent to need her. But in his dreams, she was there, belonging only to him. She learned, she listened, she was the most intelligent person around him and he wanted her.
The lab explosion?she came dangerously close to serious injury and he should have taken care of her, but he did not. He should have changed then, but she had found someone younger. He could not put thoughts and desires for her out of his mind. He found her exciting, challenging, beautiful and he tormented himself for months, denied his feelings even as he wanted her by his side.
It took a dead girl who looked like Sara, an exhausted interview with a stranger he knew to be a killer made him confess his own feelings. Later, as he drank with Jim, holding his temples because of a headache, he had to ask if he had said a name. Quietly, Jim said ?no?. He attempted to change?his life would never be the same. Work, his bugs, the roller coasters, long hours of insignificant trivia would never take her place. Everything in his life had been a farce because he would not admit what he knew?he loved her. She came to him one night with loving words and gentle fingers and he made promises, only to break those promises again and again.
One night, he had walked in with assignments. Their eyes met immediately, and just as quickly, both pairs dropped. She knew?she knew of his confession without his knowledge. She knew he loved her. He stepped to the end of the table, his heart beating like an African drum. He met her eyes again. Her brow arched ever so slightly and he looked away. He had to clear his head, think, speak. Yet it was her voice he wanted to hear, the uplifting, intelligent way she formed her words, her compassion, her courage, her mind. He sighed and everyone looked at him, waiting for him. In that moment, she looked up at him with those dark, magnificent eyes. ?Sweet Sara,? he thought. She actually blushed as if she could hear his thoughts.
She had thanked him for taking her home one night and his heart twisted into a knot as he looked into her brown eyes, knowing her embarrassment, her shame and hurt as she spoke of what had occurred. Months would pass before another event took him to her apartment and as she struggled to breathe, tears fell from her eyes, and he took her hand. He whispered her name as he pulled her into his arms, bringing her palm to his lips before he placed it above his heart.
That night, they talked about his struggle to come to terms with his own feelings, of his selfish nature, of how much life he was missing. He said, ?Sara, all I?ve ever wanted?you are.? He read to her until she slept.
It would be a few more weeks, when an attack by a murderer would put her life in jeopardy, before each realized how quickly life can change. When Nick was kidnapped, they began to make plans, for a home together, for a dog, for a life together?
