Present:

            Grissom was so busy with watching the main door to the lab and his overly excited and anxious thoughts that he didn’t notice Jim Brass approaching the truck.
            “Casing the joint?”
            Grissom visibly jumped, his sunglasses hiding most of the startled frown on his face. “Damn it, Jim!” he cursed as he opened his door to get out. “You nearly sent me into cardiac failure.”
            Brass chuckled, slapping Grissom on the shoulder with his left hand while enthusiastically shaking Grissom’s hand with the other. He looks good, Brass thought, glad to see his old friend back.
            “I think your ticker’s just fine,” Brass countered, his eyes twinkling with barely controlled mirth. “So when did you get back in town?”
            Grissom glanced at his watch. “About two hours ago,” he answered in his non-committal sort of way. He wasn’t about to reveal to Brass that he had been sitting in the parking lot trying to determine a plan of action. The crap he’d give me, Grissom thought only mildly amused.
            Grissom had gone away a broken man but with the help of Dr. Thoren and his clinic in Colorado he was able to return healed. He wasn’t the same as he was before the abduction, and he could only hope he was better than before, but Grissom knew he was stronger. Dr. Thoren had been honest with him, letting him know that there would still be some tough moments ahead but he had also given him the chance to overcome and, with time, leave it completely behind.
            “I see,” Brass said, following Grissom’s shaded gaze. “So you decided to come by and check out the outside of the building,” Brass teased, gesturing towards to the lab facility.
            Grissom twisted his lips in annoyance, settling his weight on one foot as he eyed his friend. “I was-“
            Grissom’s explanation was drowned out by several exuberant voices screaming, “GRIS!”
            Even though his eyes were hidden by the dark glasses, Brass could easily read the surprise on the man’s face. The slack jawed, mouth partially open gave Grissom away. “I think they missed you.” Brass patted his friend on the back before giving him the manly one arm across the shoulder hug, finished by a harder pat on the back. “I missed you too,” he admitted, before he gently pushed Grissom towards the charging band of friends and eager co-workers.
            Grissom shook his head in resignation but the smile he tried to rein in said it all as he was only allowed a couple of steps before being swarmed by an energetic Greg Sanders, followed by a slightly more subdued Nick Stokes. Grissom looked a bit uncomfortable at being mauled by the two men but otherwise overjoyed at seeing them.
            “Get off of him, you freaks!” Warrick teased, pushing Nick out of the way to give Grissom a robust shake before leaning in shoulder to shoulder. “It’s great to see you,” Warrick said stepping back, his smile matching the crooked one on Grissom’s face.
            Grissom gave him a single nod before asking about his arm. Warrick shrugged the wounded arm off. “Tired of this damn thing,” he emphatically stated, showing the partial cast.
            Grissom gave a slight roll of his head, knowing exactly how aggravating a cast arm could be. Before he could reply he was inundated by the enthusiastic greetings from Doc Robbins and David Phillips, followed quickly by Hodges who had been lost without his boss to kiss up to on a daily basis.
            “It’s good to see you back boss,” Hodges said, as if it had been a trial for him during Grissom’s absence.
            “Thank…” A movement from the front of the building caught Grissom’s eye: it was familiar and caused an involuntary flip-flop feeling in the pit of his stomach and a tug at his heart. Sara! “…you.”
            The moment Catherine had hung up with Brass she had gone in search of Sara, finding her in Q.D. hovering over Ronnie Litre. Catherine had leaned into the lab with a smile as wide as the Great Basin and said, “Your boyfriend’s back.” Ronnie was subsequently abandoned in great haste.
            Halting at the curb some fifty feet away, Sara looked Grissom over. He looked good. With blue jeans, an untucked white button up shirt and a dark blue sports jacket, he looked damn good! But most of all it was the complete look of love on his face as he pulled his sunglasses off to look at her.
            The brightest smile Grissom had ever seen erupted on Sara’s face as she threw her hands up in the air and ran towards him. Grissom laughed as he scooped the flying woman up in his arms, crushing her to his chest, drowning gratefully in the feel of her once more.
            Sara grabbed Grissom’s face and kissed him hard before tightly hugging him once more. “You’re back,” she sighed into his neck.
            “Yea, I’m back,” Grissom declared with a chuckle, rocking the woman in his arms.
            Tugging Sara tightly to his side, Grissom held out his hand to Catherine and pulled her close before planting a kiss on her cheek. “Did you take good care of the place while I was gone?” he asked his dear friend.
            “Everything but the paperwork,” Catherine teased him.
            Grissom gave her a playful frown that quickly subsided back into the huge smile that he was unable to keep from his face. Turning his attention back to Sara as his friends gathered round, Grissom said, “I got something for you.”
            “Really?”
            Grissom let loose of Sara as his right hand slipped into his jacket. Pulling it out he produced a single red rose and handed it to Sara. “Hopefully it is not too flattened,” he said, referring to their exuberant reunion.
            Sara took the rose from him, slightly embarrassed by the joyful tears that she was blinking back. Sara counted herself as a ‘tough chick’ but then and there she felt pretty soft, a trait that Grissom had always been able to extract. “Thank you,” she told him, admiring the red rose with the small white bow tied to it.
            Grissom waited, not knowing for sure if he was still breathing.
            Something caught Sara’s eye on the rose, tied in the white ribbon, something gold and silver and sparkling. Sara’s astonished gaze snapped up to search his face.
            “I could get down on one knee,” he said in a quiet voice tinged with slight uncertainty, “if it meant you would say yes.”
            Sara’s eyes grew even wider as Grissom slipped the ring from the ribbon. “Sara will-“
            “YES!”
            Sara threw her arms around Grissom’s neck, not bothering to let him finish. The only words that mattered Grissom had already said a hundred times before. Sara knew he would forget to put his shoes at the door, replenish the orange juice and maybe even an anniversary now and then but he would never forget to tell her he loved her everyday, Sara was certain.
            A lively round of applause went up as Grissom tenderly kissed Sara, the two reluctantly parting with Sara’s cheeks showing a nice shade of pink. With hugs and handshakes and several pats on the back the two were congratulated.
            “Being the magnanimous man that I am,” Brass declared, like a king to his court, “breakfast is on me.”
            With a few threats of breaking Brass’ wallet, the friends broke up to their various vehicles and headed for breakfast. Settling Sara into the passenger seat of his truck, Grissom looked around conspiratorially and said, “We could ditch them.”
            Sara grinned at his offer and as much as she wanted to accept she couldn’t bring it upon herself to follow through. Shaking her head Sara said, “Just remember to get something light.”
            Grissom gave her a crooked smile before slipping his sunglasses on. He’d order water and plain toast if it got him home and in Sara’s arms faster. “Yes dear.”

            **********************************************************

Four Months later:   

            The gentle breeze that played with the tree tops caught Grissom’s attention and he tilted his face up to enjoy the soft wind and warm rays of the sun. The white wispy clouds sauntered across the bright blue sky while the swaying leaves waved him on. It was time to say goodbye.
            The woman with the dark floral dress turned as if sensing his presence and smiled wanly at him, encouraging him to come closer. Grissom hesitated. A momentary flash of fear mixed with the melancholy of the moment. It was only thirty feet that separated him from his destination but it was so much more than that.
            The gentle squeeze of his hand and hug of his arm had Grissom turning to his right. And there she was. The light that chased away the darkness and revealed his nightmares to be nothing more than bad dreams, easily banished with a soft embrace and a gentle kiss. Sara.
            “You ready?” Sara asked from his side, her tender gaze searching out his reassuringly.
            The judicial system had worked expeditiously in getting Markus Bathory to trial. Assistant District Attorney Jeffrey Sinclair had decided on trying the maniac on the murder of Kimberly Anne Osborn first. It was a calculated move on the ADA’s part.     Since Sinclair had a video of the crime and a witness in Grissom, Bathory’s conviction was as close to a sure thing as the lawyer could get short of a confession. Sinclair would then use the conviction against the man in subsequent trials. He’d try him for every crime the man committed, from the multiple murders to Grissom’s torture and abduction. If Sinclair had his way the man wouldn’t see the light of day unless he got a yellow crayon and drew it on a piece of paper.
            Sinclair had informed Grissom that he would be on the witness list and taking the stand sometime in the upcoming week. Initially the attorney had been nervous about putting Grissom on the stand, afraid his opponent Adam Matthews might use Grissom’s emotional difficulties after his escape against his witness. On a simple fishing expedition he had asked Catherine Willows how her friend was doing.
            “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Catherine had asked with a smile, knowing what Sinclair would find.
            Sinclair had been momentarily taken aback before shrugging it off. “By the way, Catherine,” he had said, pausing on his way to Grissom’s office. “Congratulations. I hear you are a supervisor again.”
            “Yea, well the Sheriff figured since grave had the most cases we needed the most supervisors.” With a saucy arch of one brow the CSI had sauntered off.
            The prospect of sitting across a courtroom from Markus Bathory and testifying in Kimmi’s murder was mildly daunting for Grissom. He wanted to put those demons down forever and never walk that twisted, dark path again. But for Kimmi, the angel that had made hell survivable, I will, Grissom silently swore.
            Looking at the woman by his side, Grissom squeezed her hand back feeling the cool, gold band on her third finger. With a soft smile and gentler shake of her hand he finally answered, “Yea.”
            With Sara by his side, Grissom walked the short distance to the waiting woman with the melancholy smile.
            “You came.”
            Grissom nodded, taking the woman’s outstretched hand with his free hand. One of the first things he had done upon returning to Vegas was seek out Sherry Osborn. He wanted to give Kimmi’s mother some peace, to let her know the kindness that Kimmi had shown him even when she was terrified. Mostly he wanted her forgiveness for failing to save her daughter.
            “There was nothing you coulda done,” she had told him, reaching out to grasp his hand while he sat in her tidy but simple livingroom. “You and Kimmi got caught up by a bunch of monsters. I’m just thankful…that my baby didn’t have to die alone with those animals.”
            They had talked on a couple of occasions since then. Mostly on days that Sherry found the hardest to deal with, the ones that had the most meaning: holidays, the first day of school and this particular sunny day- Kimmi’s sixteenth birthday.
            Sherry hadn’t had enough money to cover the cost of the funeral, burial and headstone for her daughter. So a simple metal marker had held a typed card giving the bureaucratic basics: name- last, first, middle initial, birth date and death date- day, month, year and plot location- section, row, plot. There was nothing there to say how much her mother loved her or how she had made a difference in one stranger’s life.
            With Sherry’s permission, Grissom had purchased a grave marker for Kimmi. Neither one wanted dates on the grave marker. For Grissom the historic significance did not encompass what and who Kimmi was. For Sherry it was too final to see the date that her daughter was taken away from her. So the white stone with an angel reaching for heaven simply said Kimberly Anne Osborn, beloved daughter and friend.
            After a while, Grissom and Sara decided to let Sherry have some private time with her daughter. Leaning forward, Grissom gave the wistful woman a goodbye kiss on the cheek. Sara followed suit, extracting a promise from Sherry that if she should need anything to call them.
            At the top of a knoll, where Grissom had parked their car, he looked back at Sherry. He could see that she was talking to her dead daughter. He could even pick out her words, if he had wanted to, but the moment was too private so he turned away, opening the passenger side door for Sara.
            “Hey,” Sara said, placing the palm of her hand gently against his cheek. His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses so Sara reached out to slip them off and settle them on his head. Smiling she asked, “You good?”
            One corner of Grissom’s mouth curled upward in a lopsided grin. Yes, he was good. He had been tossed into Hell, forced to battle demons and devils and even himself before emerging on the otherside scorched and scathed but alive. And the one thing that made it all bearable was the woman standing next to him, her smile mirroring the love in her heart.
            “Yea,” Grissom told her, taking her hand from his face and planting a reverent kiss to her palm, “I’m good.”
            “Let’s go home,” Sara said softly before slipping into the car.
            Grissom closed Sara’s door. Rounding the car to the driver’s side, Grissom paused as he noted Sherry smiling as she tidied Kimmi’s grave while reminiscing. A whisper of a smile crossed Grissom’s countenance before opening his door and settling in behind the wheel. He was greeted with a warm smile from Sara which he answered with a soft kiss.
            “Home, Mrs. Grissom?” he asked.
            “Home,” Sara answered, taking his hand.
            Once long ago, Gil Grissom had tried to live half a life, lying to himself that it was whole but it was only complete when he had let Sara in. For years Grissom had grounded Sara while she had broadened him. When the darkness had descended and the shadows had overwhelmed him, Sara had been the light to lead him back. She would always lead him back.