About Time

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Category: General
Archive: FF.net and here. Anywhere else ask first, I might say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own the CSI characters that appear in this fic. The original characters are mine, though, and I've grown rather attached, so no bad-mouthing them. They're like family now.

Author's Note: Thanks to Marlou. Thank you to all who read and reviewed. I appreciate it!

Summary: Sara and Grissom investigate a cold case from the 1950's as a favor for a fellow employee. G/S

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Chapter 5

Grissom looked over his shoulder and saw Sara, donning coveralls and an LVPD baseball cap, walking toward the scene.

"You know, if you don't want to be here, you don't-"

"Grissom, I'm helping," she interrupted defiantly. She flinched as the officers pounded in the walls of the backyard shed.

"We're sure this is where she is?"

Grissom nodded and picked up a sledgehammer. "He said he built the shed over her body two weeks after she died. He sold the property the following summer. The owners are thrilled, as you can imagine." With a grunt, he helped the officers demolish the shed and then jack hammered the foundation loose. Sara helped them move the concrete pieces out of the way, and then grabbed a shovel and started digging.

"Stop!" she called out upon seeing the first glimpse of skeletal remains. The officers backed off, and Sara and Grissom took over, using spades and brushes. It didn't take long before the bones were unearthed, photographed, and placed in a bag for the coroner.

"We have to talk to Mary," Sara said seriously, adjusting her cap and wiping her forehead.

"Let's wait till we get the dental record match," Grissom replied. "I don't want any mistakes made."

Sara's eyebrow twitched briefly. "Okay."

"Mary's like family," he said, collecting their tools.

Sara considered him a moment, surprised he would say something like that.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing." She smiled and helped him pick up their things.

They were sitting in the small conference room the next evening, working on the case report when Grissom got the phone call from David. The dental records confirmed that the bones were in fact those of Sophia Simmons.

"Well," Sara sighed. "I guess it's finally over."

He leaned closer to her. "You've worked very hard on this case."

"Thank you." Sara wondered where he was going with this.

"You have tomorrow off, you know."

"I know. So do you." The little hairs on the back of her neck started to tingle.

"The Stratosphere has a nice view of the city, if that sort of thing interests you." He did not lift his eyes from the papers in front of him.

Sara licked her lips and tried not to smirk. "I've heard that." He was really trying, and she wanted to hug him. "Did you want to have dinner?" she asked quietly.

"Eight o'clock?"

Her smile erupted. "How about seven?"

"Okay."

Sara's smile slowly fell, and she discreetly put her hand on his knee. "You know what we have to do now."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I don't know why I'm dreading it. She had to have hoped we'd find something."

"I'm sure she did. Come on, let's talk to her together. She'll need to arrange for a proper burial."

Mary was just transferring a call when Grissom and Sara approached the desk. "Hi," she said cheerfully, hanging up the phone.

They each offered weak smiles and looked a little uncomfortable. "May we speak to you for a few minutes? In a conference room?" Grissom suggested, leading the way.

Once in the room, Mary started babbling as she fidgeted in her chair and played with her glasses. "You found something, didn't you? Do you know what happened to her? Was that man involved?"

"Slow down, Mary," Sara said, laughing a little at her exuberance.

"The journals helped flush out a new suspect in Sophia's disappearance," Grissom began.

"Wait, tell her about the relationship, first," Sara interjected. Grissom narrowed his eyes, but then waved his hand, letting her take over.

Sara explained the original details of the case, why Garridan was suspected, and how they actually dated and had planned to marry. Mary teared up a little, unaware that her aunt had been so happy before she disappeared.

"You found all that out from their journals? It's so... sad," she said, and Sara nodded her agreement.

"We also discovered that Sophia confronted a local policeman, Jim Golden, the day she disappeared. He'd been stealing cash deposits from the dress shop."

"You're kidding. A policeman? Did he do something to her?" Mary saw the look on their faces and knew right away that he had done something to her. "Oh... well, my goodness, I can't believe this-after all this time. Is the man still alive?"

"He is," Sara answered. "We have him in custody. He, uh..." she trailed off and looked at Grissom. This was hard.

"He confessed to murdering Sophia," Grissom explained. "He said he shoved her, and she hit her head on the fireplace in his home. He claims that by the time he realized how serious her injury was, it was too late. He... buried her in his backyard."

Mary frowned and closed her eyes. Her mouth hung open slightly.

Sara cleared her throat. "He, uh, built a shed over the body and sold the house the following year. We were able to... dig up the remains, and dental records matched those of... your aunt."

Mary started crying.

"We're sorry, Mary," Sara said, trying not to cry herself.

"Don't be. I-I just can't believe it. I mean, we always suspected that-oh, I don't know what to say!" She wiped her eyes and sniffled. "I wish my mother were alive. She just wouldn't believe this." She shook her head and sighed, her face sobering a bit. "Then again, it's probably good that she's not. What a terrible thing. She was so young. I-I just can't believe it. That poor man-her boss. I know even our family assumed he was involved."

Grissom nodded sadly, knowing Garridan never recovered from losing Sophia. The added pain of being suspected must have truly broken him. "They kept their relationship... very private." Grissom started to feel hot and antsy. He wanted to get out of there.

Mary walked around to the other side of the table. Both Grissom and Sara stood.

"I don't know how to thank you," she said, looking back and forth at them. "You've given me so much more than I ever expected. My family thanks you." She pulled Sara into a quick hug, and then went for Grissom. "I'm proud to know you," she said sincerely. "Thank you so much."

Grissom gave a half smile. "You're welcome, Mary."

"Since you're a living relative," Sara began slowly, "the remains can technically be released to you."

"Do you know if she had a plot somewhere or what her wishes were?" Grissom asked.

"Oh." Mary looked off to the side, shaking her head, deep in thought. "I need to find out where that man is buried," she said, with sudden clarity. "I'll, uh... I'll need to make some calls. Was there anything else?"

"No, that's about it," Grissom said, relieved to be finished with the meeting.

"Okay. I-I guess I'll see you both later tonight." Mary smiled sweetly-like they were just discussing the weather.

"Uh, actually-we're... both off tonight," Grissom said, glancing at Sara, who simply nodded casually.

"Oh." Mary cocked her head, and smirked a little, eying them closely. She'd always wondered about them, but-surely they weren't a... couple... were they? "Okay. Well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Bye, Mary."

With the case behind them and Mary filled in on the situation, Grissom and Sara left the lab, saying good-bye awkwardly, shyly, in anticipation of their first date.

At 6:54pm, he knocked on her apartment door, adjusting his tie for the seventh time. It was just dinner, he reminded himself. Then she opened the door.

Sara wore a maroon wraparound fitted shirt with black pants that flared over a pair of black leather ankle boots. She had a beaded necklace on, and her hair was curly. She looked beautiful, yet... perfectly normal. He was grateful. He didn't need the added pressure of her looking spectacular.

"Hi," she mumbled softly.

He stepped inside her apartment and clumsily offered her a bouquet of wildflowers.

"You brought me flowers?" She seemed more puzzled than pleased as she took out a vase.

"Uh, yeah."

"Thank you." Finally, a smile.

"You're welcome. You look nice."

"Thanks. So do you." My God, they were seventeen and suddenly retarded. Sara closed her eyes for a second and then lunged at him, kissing him on the cheek, laughing nervously.

He put his arms around her and didn't let her back away. "It'll get easier," he mumbled, kissing her hello. They stood with their foreheads touching, rocking just slightly.

"Mmm... um, incase I forget... later on... thank you, for..."

He kept looking at her lips. "Hmm?"

"Just, thank you," she whispered, hesitantly initiating another kiss, which led to another, and then another. They were clinging to each other, and his hands slowly slid to her rear end. He sighed, feeling rather defeated already, and Sara giggled again.

"Let's go eat," he grumbled, backing away from her.

Dinner was much easier. They talked a lot about Sophia and Garridan and Mary. They talked about the lab, and they laughed together. However superficial the conversation, it was still relaxing. They weren't discussing the direction of this new intimate relationship, or the struggles they'd had in the past, but they were both enjoying themselves. Time passed too quickly, and before they knew it, the check arrived. Neither of them was ready for the evening to end.

When Grissom noticed the bar and lounge across from the restaurant, they both agreed it sounded like a good idea. They sat in a booth and listened to a surprisingly talented group sing songs that were made popular by the Platters back in the fifties and sixties. They watched people dancing in front of them on the small dance floor.

"Want to dance?" he asked suddenly.

Sara looked utterly dismayed. "Really?"

He almost laughed at her. "Sure, why not? Let's do something normal." He took her hand, but she yanked him back when he started to slide out of the booth.

"There's nothing normal about dancing. It's always so... awkward."

"Not if you do it right," he replied, genuinely amused by her discomfiture. He gently tugged on her hand, eventually getting her to standing up with him. "C'mon, let's suffer through it and get it out of the way. I'm tired of things being awkward between us," he said as they reached the floor.

She melted into his embrace, finding the whole thing incredibly surreal. "Me too," she sighed. How did they get here, exactly, she wondered.

The band had mentioned moments earlier that the song they were singing, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, was a hit for the Platters back in 1959. The bit of trivia did not go unnoticed by Grissom or Sara. It was a bittersweet, knowing this song was popular the year Sophia and Garridan met.

"I wonder if they ever danced together," Sara mumbled.

"I don't know," he whispered back, knowing exactly whom she was talking about. "Quit thinking about them, Sara. You're going to make yourself crazy."

"I can't help it. They just..." Flustered, she sighed into his shoulder. "They should've had more time, that's all."

It was a sad moment, but wonderful too, being in his arms. She could feel herself falling so fast for him, so hard, and it was overwhelming. Why was he ready for this now? Where did this turn around come from? Was he sure? How could she trust that he was sure? She didn't think she could take his rejection again. It would destroy her. She didn't like giving anyone that kind of power over her. It scared her.

Grissom pulled her closer, and let his face brush sensually against hers. The music swelled and he began to whisper in her ear, shocking her. "I care so much about you, that... sometimes, it scares me." Her heart raced as he continued almost apologetically, "I never knew how to process it, Sara. It's not what I do." She wanted to look in his eyes but didn't dare. So, she just tipped her head closer, listening, letting him take the lead in the discussion. "I do facts," he said plainly. "Evidence. Constants. Things that can be measured. Things that are undeniable and undisputable."

Sara opened her mouth to respond, but quickly discovered she was too nervous to say anything.

"I didn't know how to balance it with... my work. That's all I am." His breath tickled her ear when he said, "The thought of being with you romantically turned me into a giant oxymoron."

She laughed softly, and Grissom moved to look in her eyes. "I still don't know how to do it, exactly. It worries me," he said seriously. "But... I don't want to... lose the opportunity."

Sara studied his face while they danced, absorbing the depths of his insecurities. She smiled weakly and kissed him hard. "Maybe we should just... not worry so much about things." She slid her hand over his back comfortingly. "This is nice."

He sighed and nodded a little. Things were still a mess, but at least they were talking and... trying. It was a start.

The ride home was quiet, and when he walked her to her door, she took his hand and said, "You wanna come in?"

He hesitated, and then said, "No, I think I'll pass."

Sara blinked and lowered her eyes disappointedly.

"I want to give us time," he explained, "even if... we think we don't need it."

He wrapped his arms around her for a gentle hug. Sara thought about Sophia and Garridan and how they didn't have the luxury of time. There was no guarantee she and Grissom would have time either. Between her doubts and his lack of confidence, she wondered if they'd ever relax and just be together.

"Okay." She kissed him and said good night.

Sara spent the rest of her evening off thinking about Grissom and thinking about what she really wanted. Her life had changed so much in the past week, and she chided herself for basing her contentment on the attentions of a man.

But then again, it wasn't just any man.

Did they really need time?

Grissom spent the rest of his evening off wondering how to tell Sara that he needed to be with her. He'd been attracted to women before and wanted to date them and even make love to them, but he'd never felt such a blatant need for anyone before. It baffled and confounded him.

How much time could they really need?

It was during the following shift that Mary personally invited them to the service for Sophia, swearing that she understood if they were too busy to attend. Sara and Grissom both promised separately that they would be there.

Turning in a supply request form to his office, Sara was about to head home when she asked nonchalantly, "You going to the service for Sophia?"

"Yes, I am." Grissom put down his pen and reclined casually in his chair. "I... got a little attached to that woman, I think," he admitted. Sara smiled, and he just watched her. She could be so pretty.

"You want to ride with me?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Okay, I'll see you in a couple hours." They just stared at each other. Sara didn't want to leave just yet.

There was more to say, wasn't there? She wanted him to know how serious she was about giving this relationship a chance to grow. Did he realize she was hopelessly in love with him?

She settled for a clandestine wink, which he returned, and she slipped out the door.

The short service was to take place at Our Mother of Sorrows Cemetery out on Route Seven. Mary and her husband were already there when Sara and Grissom pulled up. Mary had spoken with Garridan's family and arranged for Sophia to be buried in the plot closest to him. They were surprisingly supportive of the idea and had no doubt read his journals detailing his relationship with Sophia. His niece was unable to attend, but offered her condolences and sympathy.

Sara and Grissom sat in the second of only two rows of chairs. Obviously, Mary didn't expect anyone else to attend. Before the minister arrived, an elderly black man showed up via taxi. He used a cane and walked very slowly, making his way to them.

"Who's that?" Grissom whispered to Sara.

She avoided his eyes and said quietly, "If I had to guess, I'd say Warren." She coughed and mumbled, "The, uh, janitor, remember?"

"Are you serious? Wow. How would he even..." He trailed off when he saw another man approach, this one in his mid sixties, wearing a business suit. Grissom narrowed his eyes.

His mouth dropped when he overheard the man introduce himself to Mary as Greg Sandeski.

"Sara, you didn't," he whispered.

She bit her bottom lip. "Look how happy Mary is."

"I can't believe you," he chided, though he was smiling. "Is that it?"

"Yeah, Cathy died in 1990. Nicholas moved to L.A. in 1965 and his whereabouts after that are unknown."

Mary was chattering away in front of them, utterly thrilled to see people who knew her aunt here to pay their respects. The minister made his way to the gravesite, and Grissom reached for Sara's hand.

They lingered after the brief service, when everyone else headed to their cars. Mary and her husband walked with Warren, insisting on giving him a ride home. Greg Sandeski slipped away quickly, probably back to an important day job. The minister excused himself politely.

Sara watched Grissom, standing with his hands linked behind his back, staring at Garridan's tombstone. The mid morning sun highlighted his silver streaked hair, and he looked impossibly handsome in his black suit, an overly serious expression on his face.

"You okay?" she asked. A mild breeze made her dress billow slightly.

"Yeah," he replied, without looking at her. Still staring at the tombstone, he shook his head disappointedly.

"Well, they're finally together," she commented, shrugging sadly.

"I just keep thinking how... it was so hard for him to lower his defenses and let that woman get close to him." Sara took a few steps nearer. "And then he did, and she was taken away from him."

Sara read the tombstone again. Robert. His first name was Robert. She'd read it in the case reports, but never really paid any attention. She'd probably never remember his first name, anyway. He'd always be Garridan.

"I bet he never recovered," Grissom sighed, turning when he heard Mary's car door close. The engine started right away.

"Probably not," Sara concurred sadly. A flock of birds passed overhead, chirping and squawking as they went. The large oak trees nearby rustled with the soft breeze, and a few stray leaves twirled to the ground, signaling the onset of fall.

"I bet it was worth it, though," she said. "That little time they had together. I bet if he were alive, he'd tell you he'd go through it all again."

Grissom put his hand on the back of her neck, sending shivers through her immediately, pulling her closer. "I'm sure he would. I would."

Sara looked at him, but he was looking beyond her, watching Mary's car as it pulled out of the cemetery. Then he leaned over and softly pressed his lips to her cheek. "Would you like to come over today? I like seeing you after work. I've gotten a little attached to you."

Sara smiled and sort of fell into his embrace. "Me too" she said shyly. For a long time, they just hugged, and it felt so natural.

They got in her car. When Sara turned left onto the road out of the cemetery, they heard something fall in the back seat. "Oh, shoot, I forgot to give those to Mary," Sara said. Grissom reached back to pick up Sophia and Garridan's journals, and he noticed something.

"Sara."

She glanced at him. "What?"

"Look."

A photo had been dislodged from the back of one of the books. He held it up for her while she stopped the car.

"Oh my God! Where did that come from?" It was a photo of Sophia and Garridan at Lake Meade. Sept. 7, 1959, Labor Day was scrawled on the back in pen. Sara couldn't stop staring at it. Sophia was pretty-tall and thin, with a wide smile that lit up her whole face. She had a modest sundress on, and Garridan wore a button down short-sleeved shirt with light colored pants. Both his arms were loosely wrapped around her.

Sara studied the man in the picture. He smiled a small, understated smirk, no doubt uncomfortable being photographed. Sophia had said Garridan had deep blue eyes that couldn't quite mask his sadness. Though the black and white photo didn't show the color of his eyes, Sara completely understood what Sophia meant. A general air of sadness and seriousness seemed to loom in Garridan's expression. Sara had recognized that look for years now.

Looking up suddenly, she leaned over and planted her lips on Grissom's solidly, desperately.

"What was that for?" he gasped when she pulled away.

She shrugged and continued driving. "Just because."

When they reached his townhouse, the sexual tension seemed to reach a combustible level. Grissom closed the door behind them and knew it was the right moment. It had to be. Sara stood there, waiting for him to do something.

"Sara," he struggled, closing his eyes and slipping off his suitcoat. She moved closer, knowing how hard it was for him, knowing that he wanted the same thing she wanted. She tentatively touched his waist, keeping her eyes low.

"I don't know what to say to you," he said as they hugged. He touched his hand to her cheek.

"Then don't say anything," she whispered, reassuring him with a loving gaze before she kissed him. His fingers moved into her hair, and Sara relaxed against him. Their kisses grew more passionate. Fears and inhibitions seemed to melt. "Sara..."

He cupped her face in his hands, looking in her eyes for a long, contemplative moment. "You shouldn't have waited for me."

"What else could I do?" she replied softly, attempting a smile.

Something changed. Some unspoken agreement was made, and they crashed together, kissing and touching, moaning and gasping, clumsily making their way into his living room. They landed on the couch, and Sara tried to grasp what was happening.

He finally got it. He finally understood how special this thing was between them. His soft little groans while devouring her neck made her stomach flutter, and when he gently caressed her breast through her dress, she didn't recognize the throaty rumble of pleasure that emanated from her.

And they weren't stopping.

He wasn't pulling away, and she wasn't panicking, other than to worry whether she had shaved her legs and had decent underwear on. Yes and yes, she thought excitedly, and she ground against him. Then he said, "I love you, Sara," and she was rendered speechless.

But her mouth still worked, attacking his with renewed enthusiasm. "I love you, too," she managed, sighing at his gentle caresses. Dammit, flashes of Sophia and Garridan on the sofa after their day at the Lake kept entering her mind. The picture they found wasn't helping matters either. Sara looked on and watched with great anticipation as Grissom began unbuttoning her dress.

She stilled his hands. "Wait."

He looked shocked-and very sorry.

Then Sara said, "Would you take me to bed? Please?"

He hesitated only briefly. Standing before her, he said simply, "Yes." When Sara got up, he bent over swiftly and scooped her up, smiling when Sara let out a squeak of surprise.

He kissed her again and said, "I think it's about time."

- The End -