VI:

 

            Sara was already at the San Francisco International Airport when she got the call from Catherine. She had managed to get a flight out on the next available plane heading to Las Vegas, using just about every trick in the book that she could think of. Ghosts be damned, Gil was her now and forever. She knew that. Sara had just needed to confront and jettison the baggage of her past before continuing with her future.

            Catherine’s call had been brief and Sara knew from that brevity, whatever worries she had about Gil’s condition were well founded. The hour long plane trip had been an exercise in excruciating torture. If it wasn’t Sara torturing herself with ‘what ifs’, it was the fact that she was separated from Gil when he was hurt, possibly dying.

            In Sara’s frantic mind, every leg of her journey to Gil took twice as long as it should. Everyone from the ticket counter salesman in San Francisco to the taxi driver in Las Vegas was more than happy to get rid of the anxious, snapping woman. The waiting room located near the emergency operating area was where Sara found her former co-workers. Their pensive faces and tense postures telling her there had been no additional news since she had touched down at McCarron Airport.

            “Catherine?” She said, rushing towards the older woman sitting closest to the hall.

            Catherine looked up to see Sara coming forward and quickly got to her feet, embracing her with arms that still shook. The paramedics had worked non-stop on Grissom the whole way into the hospital, her friend barely clinging to life. Twice he had coded on them and twice Catherine had nearly had a heart attack. If Gil Grissom lived through his ordeal, Catherine had every intention of killing him herself for scaring the shit out of her.

            “Sara,” Catherine’s smile was tired but genuine. “We’re still waiting to hear anything,” Catherine told her as they parted.

            One by one her friends came up to give her a hug. They all looked like they had been through an emotional ringer about a half a dozen times but it was the appearance of Warrick, Nick and Greg that told Sara more than she probably wanted to. Their boots and lower legs were coated with the remains of caked on mud that had been to belligerent to fall off when the men had tried to quickly knock it off. Greg had what looked to be a smudge of motor oil just behind his jaw and all three men had dark blood stains covering various areas of their upper bodies.

            Sara felt her knees shake at the sight of the blood, her mind momentarily freezing in a moment of unadulterated terror.

            “Sara?” Brass placed a hand at her elbow, steering her towards the chair next to Catherine’s “Here sit down.”

            Sara took the seat knowing full well that if she didn’t she would be on the floor. “How…where…” Sara didn’t know where to begin. Her world had not only been turned upside down but inside out as well.

            Brass took up the seat on Sara’s left. “We don’t know much, yet,” he told her in that voice he seemed to reserve only for her, his surrogate daughter. “He was investigating a hit and run fatality near Jewell, the State Trooper assigned to him left the scene-“

            “WHAT?”

            Brass put up a hand. “I know, guy’s pushing a desk at the moment and if he’s lucky that’ll be the best of it.”

            Sara shook her head. “Is there a suspect in the hit and run?”

            “I don’t know,” Catherine answered. “Gil got the case two nights ago and was working it alone.”

            “That’s what he does now,” Greg threw in as an aside.

            Grissom had gradually pulled away from all of them. It had been subtle, the way he had put back in place the one way barricades. Grissom could venture out but no one could venture in. As the months went on Grissom slowly began to venture out less, leaving his friends and co-workers to worry about him, casting sad looks his way when Grissom wasn’t looking.

            “He called me just before I got to work, told me he was in the field and didn’t know if he would make it back in time for start of shift,” Catherine finished.

            “He was on a two day old case before his shift started?”

            Catherine shook her head in resignation. “Sara, all he does is work. I’ll bet you he is putting sixty hours on the clock and another ten to twelve off the clock every week.”

            There was no way Sara was taking that bet. It rang true which only made the pain in heart that more sharp. She had worried that Grissom was working too much. In their conversations she had made it a point to tell him not to work too hard, to take care of himself which he was always quick to answer ambiguously and move on.

            The truth of it all was that Sara had been thinking of coming home to him for a couple of weeks. Being with her mother, talking over the past, lying the ghost of her father to rest had all been major steps that she had achieved. With her mother and Grissom’s coaxing she had finally relented and gone to therapy and where she had delved a little into her problems during her PEAP sessions, the key word being little, this time she was fully committed. She bared her soul in the hopes of finding the nicks in it, reaching in, making the needed repairs in the hopes of being that much stronger.

            But a niggling fear had begun to work its way in to Sara’s mind. She had begun to fear she had screwed everything up with Grissom. In the beginning he had been eager to speak with her. If he missed her call, it wasn’t long after that she would get a call from him. He emailed her frequently, always careful not too talk about cases but always good about filling her in on Hank, Jim, Catherine and the boys. She had missed them all and hated leaving the way she had, none as much as Gil.

            It didn’t surprise Sara that Grissom had begun to distance himself from the others, she had been feeling he was doing the same with her for several weeks. They still talked but it had become harder to get a hold of him outside of work, where she felt like they could talk more easily. His emails had become shorter, less detailed but he always ended them the same, Always with love, Gil. It was those four words that kept her believing that all would be well once she was ready to return.

            Many people accused Grissom of being unfeeling, a robot. She had angrily accused him of it long ago. What their colleagues did not know was that Grissom had learned long ago to disconnect from his emotions as needed. It was a self-preservation mechanism, a way to distance himself from the brutality doled out daily in their profession. Sara had seen it first hand in the murder of Susanna Kirkwood.

 

            The murdered girl in the Kirkwood driveway had been gunned down with out a thought while the poor girl was carrying bags into her house. Her parents destroyed and staring numbly at their dead daughter… well, Sara had simply been unable to deal with the scene and some how Brass had known it, bringing Grissom to the Kirkwood residence. Gil had taken one look at Susanna Kirkwood, his eyes startled and sad before he had immediately sought Sara out.

            She could still see the concerned look he leveled on her then. Sara could still feel the uncontrollable sadness and anger that raged within her and she could still remember how much she hated the sense of failure that welled up in her when she walked under the crime scene tape and towards her Tahoe, distancing herself further from the tragedy.

            Grissom had taken everything in in one sweeping gaze and then like a light switch being thrown, he had shut it all off while pulling his latex gloves on. It was frightening to watch and for some reason it had made Sara angry that he was capable of doing that. But in truth, she had just been angry at that time. It was later that she realized the toll it took on Grissom to simply detach himself from his feelings. The temptation to remain disaffected by their world was a powerful one.

            What was truly amazing and what no one knew was that Grissom was a scientist with an artist’s soul and a hero’s heart. He quoted Shakespeare and prose because he found beauty in their words. He had a love for music and art and nature that had amazed Sara and Grissom believed that what he did mattered, even if it sometimes cost him a little bit of himself.

 

            “He, umm, he had me write some stuff down,” Sara’s voice was thick with emotion as she pulled the list of evidence out of her coat pocket. “The first list is about the case. The second,” Sara swallowed and then swallowed again, wiping hastily at a wayward tear.

            Brass could see she was having difficulty speaking, so he took the folded paper gently from her fingers. His eyes narrowed as he read the suspect description Grissom had relayed through Sara. Son of a bitch, Brass thought both angry and amazed at the same time. Investigator, through and through.

            “What is it, Jim?” Nick asked from across the room, noticing the scowling shake of the police captain’s head.

            Brass rubbed his forehead. “It’s a…it’s a suspect description.”

            “Suspect description?” Nick’s dark brows furrowed. “What suspect?”

            Brass turned to look at Sara, watching as she tried to steal herself to evidence. “His shooter,” Brass said looking back at Nick.

            “He…he told you who shot him?” Nick asked Sara, seeming to find this knew information difficult to process.

            Sara shook her head. Gil had tried to gloss over as much of it as he could in an attempt to spare her but Sara had been trained as an investigator, cultivated as a CSI by him and it didn’t take Sara long to see through his weak subterfuge. When Sara realized Gil was having her document evidence for him, it was then she realized how seriously hurt he must be

            . “I don’t think Gil thought he was going to make it,” Sara revealed.

            Nick ran the palms of both of his hands roughly across the top of his head, sliding them down across his tired face as he crashed back into his chair. Grissom had documented his own crime scene believing he would be dead by the time they found him. The enormity of the whole situation only seemed to get bigger and more difficult to take.

            A heavy silence descended on the room as they all sat and waited for word on Grissom’s condition. Thoughts ran towards their wounded friend, memories were recalled and prayers were silently offered up as the clock mercilessly drug on.

            At some point during their long wait Dr. Robbins arrived, along with Hodges, Wendy and a parade of lab techs and police officers cycled in and out, checking on Grissom’s condition. After a dozen calls to Catherine, Ecklie arrived, finding a seat between Greg and Hodges. It was all out of their hands. All they could do was wait.

VII:

            It was Saturday morning, the beginning of his rotation of days off and Grissom planned on getting every last chore on his list done before lunch to free up the rest of his time off. The first thing on his list had been to change the oil in his car. A job that would have been easier to delegate to a local mechanic but seeing as how he had done the required task since he had been old enough to drive, Grissom saw no need to do so.

            Rolling out from under the car, Grissom let the oil drain as he got to his feet. He bent to do a double check on the flow before grabbing the rag hanging out of the back pocket of his work coveralls and wiping his hands.

            “I’ve always wanted to do a mechanic,” Sara said, leaning a shoulder against the open garage door.

            At her voice, Grissom poked his head around the opened hood of the car and smiled. “Really?” He quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.

            “Mmm,” Sara hummed, pushing herself up and making her way towards him. Her long lines moving with that subtle grace Grissom enjoyed so much. “Just never could find the right mechanic.”

            “How aggravating for you,” Grissom said with a crooked grin.

            Sara reached out and toyed with the fabric of his overalls at his chest. “More frustrating than you could imagine. I guess my requirements might be a little difficult.”

            Grissom slipped the rag back into his back pocket before leisurely settling his hands on Sara’s hips. “What lofty qualifications do you seek?” He asked, his gaze beginning to smolder as it traveled from her eyes to her chest and back up again.

            God! How could one man be this hot? Sara wondered in heated amazement.

            “Well, he has to have a brilliant mind,” she began, giving a soft peck on the lips.

            “I’ve been told I’m brilliant,” Grissom declared, licking her taste from his lips.

            Sara’s brows arched as if she was astounded by the coincidence.

            “He’d have to be taller than me but not too much.”

            Grissom nodded playfully.

            “He’d have to have salt and pepper curls that I could run my fingers through and amazing blue eyes that spoke to me-“

            “Technically eyes can’t speak,” Grissom interjected.

            “Shush!” Sara demanded, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “I’m dreaming here. Where was I? Oh yeah, he’d need strong arms,” Sara ran her hands down along Grissom’s upper arms, “and a strong chest,” her hands changed course and roamed across his chest.

            “Like a bodybuilder, maybe with lots of hair?” Grissom asked his eyes watching her lips, before sliding upward to meet her gaze.

            “No, not big, just strong…and smooth, so I could run my tongue across his skin, maybe lick his nipples.” Sara’s voice had begun to take on a husky sound, her fingers slowly lowering the zipper. “Like this,” she said, running one hand inside the overalls and across his chest.

            “Anything else?” Grissom nearly growled.

            Sara licked her lips. “Well, he’d have to be an amazing kisser and-“

            Grissom leaned in and took Sara’s mouth with his, his warm, wet lips sliding sensually over hers. His tongue teased her lips and mouth with soft caresses, a tantalizing taste of possibilities. His wide hands slipped from her hips to capture her face gently as his mouth tenderly plundered her lips in sweet abandon.

            Grissom pulled back slowly, his right thumb tracing her well kissed lips before his hand slowly trailed down her neck and sternum, taking up residence, once again, at her hip.

            “I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”

            Sara trembled at the sound of his voice. If sex had a voice it was that sound, the one that made her toes curl, her nipples pucker and her panties wet.

            “Yes,” Sara agreed, her hand pulling on the zipper again. “My mechanic would also have to be very skilled with his… tools,” she finally added, her innuendo blatant.

            “Mmm,” Grissom twisted his lips into a lopsided grin, his smoky blue eyes following the action of her hands.

            Just as Sara was about to reach in to the coveralls, Grissom’s head suddenly came up, looking slightly alarmed. “Umm, you here early,” he stated, stepping back from temptation and zipping the front of his work clothes.

            Sara’s startled brown eyes looked at Grissom with a frown. “I…yes, I guess, I…is it a problem?” She finally spit out.

            “Yes, no, I mean” Grissom put his hand out as if to stop Sara, “you can’t come in…yet.”

            Grissom backed up towards the door that led into the townhouse, his eyes darting from the door to Sara and back again.

            “Gil?”

            “Give me, umm, ten minutes,” he told her, his hand on the doorknob, “and come through the front door.” He disappeared into the house leaving a perplexed and slightly frustrated Sara Sidle to wait at the front door.

            When the designated time elapsed, Sara knocked on the door before letting herself in. What she saw immediately had her breath catching in her throat and a bright smile beaming across her face. Sitting in a slender glass vase was a single red rose and every four foot there was one just like it, each one containing a handwritten note that read, ‘Pick Me’.

            Sara plucked each rose from its vase, following the fragrant and beautiful trail to the man standing at the breakfast bar with the last of the roses in his hand. Grissom had used his ten minutes to its full extent, having changed from the coveralls to a pair of jeans and an untucked button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. When Sara stood before him, Grissom offered her the rose with a lopsided smile, a note accompanying it as well.

            Sara took the note and was surprised to find her hands were shaking as she opened it. It read simply:

            Thanks for picking me.

            Sara’s smile broadened and feeling slightly embarrassed at the happy tears that were about to spring forth, she threw her arms around his neck in a loving embrace.

            “What,” Sara pulled back a little, wanting to see his face. “What is all this?”

            Grissom gave her a soft peck on the lips. “This is my way of saying, happy bi-annual anniversary.”

            Sara’s eyes widened in joyous amazement. “Bi-annual anniversary,” she repeated.

            “Yes, it was six months ago today that you let me take you out to dinner,” his fingers came up to toy with a lock of hair near her temple. “Six,” his blue gaze poignant as he sought hers, “wonderful months.”

            Sara let out a happy little moan before she threw her arms back around his neck. Grissom pulled her tightly to him, loving the feel of her in his arms, loving the feel of her lips as she slowly devoured his mouth and what had playfully been started in the garage was lovingly finished in the bedroom. The two lovers rarely leaving each others side for the rest of the day.

            * * * * * * * * * *

            “Are you all here for Gil Grissom?”

            Sara’s head snapped up, her mind focusing on the present, leaving the joyous memory behind. A short, bald headed man with tired eyes and green scrubbed stood in the arched doorway of the waiting room.

            “Yes,” came a chorus of voices, everyone coming to their feet, eager for any news on Grissom.

            “I’m Dr. Hildebrand,” he told them. “He’s through surgery. It was…a little hairy. He lost a lot of blood, needed a transfusion.”

            Sara held her breath, feeling like she was on a rocking boat that could flip over at any moment.

            “He had a single gun shot wound to the lower right quadrant, there was extensive internal injuries and we had to remove a few feet of damaged intestine.”

            There was an uneasy silence that was broken by nervous shuffling.

            “Mr. Grissom also suffered a gun shot wound to the right side of his head. “Entered about here,” the doctor pointed to a point just behind his ear, “lodged near his temple. Damnedest thing I ever saw though. Looks like a shrapnel wound because we were only able to recover a portion of the bullet.”

            “Was there any brain damage?” Catherine asked, her mouth set in a grim line.

            Dr. Hildebrand shook his hand, a tired smile barely touching his lips. “We need to watch for swelling, pressure but your friend is one lucky S.O.B. The bullets trajectory had it skirting the skull, essentially missing the brain.” The doctor shook his head, still amazed at the man’s good fortune, so to speak. “He’s still not out of the woods but we’ll see where we stand in the next twenty-four hours. In the meantime, if any of you are A Positive, a donation would be useful.”

            Warrick and Sara quickly volunteered, along with several others. For Sara, it was something. She needed to do something to help him and if donating blood was all that she was going to be able to do at the moment than that was what she would do. A nurse came to direct them to where they needed to go. Before leaving the area Sara turned to Catherine. “Call me if anything changes,” she quietly said.

VIII:

            Lying in bed, devoid of clothing, Grissom listened as Sara chuckled while recounting Greg Sanders’ attempt to channel the spirit of Frank Sinatra while on the Lois O’Neal case. He smiled, loving the sound of her laughter while his hands gently played with her delicate fingers.

            “It had that other time feel to it, didn’t it?” Grissom muttered, lazily tracing the bones of her hand.

            “Yeah, I guess it did…a little,” she told him, rolling to her side and propping her head up with the hand he had been playing with. “Lois definitely got points for old fashioned spunk.”

            Grissom took the hand tracings circles on his chest and brought it to his mouth. Nodding he laid her palm across his face, planting a lingering kiss in the palm of Sara’s hand. “True,” he smiled up at her, “but she was a rank amateur next you.”

            Sara swooped down and rewarded him with a kiss. “You say the sweetest things.”

            Grissom shrugged as if she had said the most mundane of truths, his lips twisting slightly as he kept his smile hidden. “Well, if you liked those sweet nothings,” Grissom surged up, rolling Sara to her back. “You should check your nightstand.”

            Sara hesitated a split second before realizing he was serious about something hidden in the drawer next to the bed. Wiggling out from under his grip, Sara scooted to the edge of the bed and opened the drawer.   

            “What?” Her hand dove into the drawer pulling out a vacation flyer and two plane tickets. “Aspen?”

            Grissom laid back, his hands slipping behind his head as he looked up at her. “If you put in for next Wednesday off, I can guarantee your Supervisor will approve it,” he said with a wink.

            “Won’t it be a little suspicious if we both take vacation at the same time?” Sara asked, lying across his chest.

            “Mmm,” Grissom gave her a look as if he hadn’t pondered that problem before. “Well, since your days off are Sunday through Tuesday on this rotation and mine are Monday thru Wednesday,” Grissom gave her an arched brow.

            “Hmm, how sly you are, Dr. Grissom,” she teased him.

            Grissom only smirked. “Well, I would describe it more as a resourcefulness deriving from a necessity.”

            “Necessity?” Sara smiled, leaning in to his side.

            Grissom made an affirming sound in his throat, the smirk still residing on his face.

            Sara gave him a contemplative look, even though there was nothing to contemplate. Three days away from Las Vegas and their jobs, together! It was a done deal!

            “You know, of course, that I have every intention of taking advantage of you while were there?”

            Grissom’s smirk turned into a grin before Sara gave him an example of things to come. The Aspen get away was one of three that they had taken. Like so much of their secret life together, they were stolen moments in time, small in duration but monumental in meaning. The tiny pieces that made up the whole of them.

            * * * * * * * * * *

            Sara walked into the hospital room. Its pastel colored walls catching the early afternoon sun that stole through the blinds of the window, giving the room a warm, calm feeling. She imagined that was probably the goal of the color scheme but had to admit it didn’t have the desired effect on her. Of course, Sara was honest enough to admit that it probably had more to do with the fact that she just wanted to leave the place and take the man in the bed with her.

            Walking up to the bed, Sara bent down and gave Grissom a soft kiss on the cheek, running her hands through his tousled hair. Her eyes momentarily took in the massive trauma induced bruise covering the right side of his face and the bandage covering the gunshot wound to his head.

            “That’s definitely going to bug you,” she whispered with a smile.

            It had been four days since Grissom had been rushed to the hospital. Four days in which Catherine and the team had worked the Rachel Miller case. Although the tire cast would not hold up in court, chain of evidence dispute, most of Grissom’s evidence had pointed the team in the direction of Cray Thomas, the son of the local resort magnate and nephew to the town sheriff. Cray appeared to be the leader of a gang of over privileged teens who just happened to have one blue eye and one brown eye.

            Just like Gil’s shooter! Catherine had had to use every ounce of her will power not to launch herself over the interview table and bitch slap the little bastard as he sat there smugly allowing his high priced lawyer do all the talking.

            Sara pulled the familiar hospital chair up alongside Grissom’s bed. She and the piece of uncomfortable furniture had become well acquainted over the past several days, Sara only leaving Grissom alone for a few hours a day and then only if she knew Catherine, Brass or one of the others would be with him.

            “So, I think I’ve figured out your route with Hank,” Sara began, reaching for the hand that lay closest to her. “It took me a couple of days but I think our boy has trained me to his new course.”

            For all intensive purposes Grissom looked as if he was sleeping. His head was tilted towards her, his blue eyes were closed with his lips slightly parted. If Sara ignored the bruise and the bandage, she could almost believe he was sleeping at home. It was a guilty pleasure she picked up over the years, watching Grissom sleep. The lines of responsibility and worry fading in slumber, making the toll of years and work disappear.

            She lightly fingered the hair growing on his chin, wondering when he had decided to grow a goatee. Sara had the oddest sense of loss that she had somehow missed out on the experience, even though she tried to reason with herself that it was simple facial hair. Grissom could grow a beard faster than any man she knew, a talent she attributed to his lack of hair growth in other areas.

 

            “What?” Grissom had asked in amused defense.

            “Hey, don’t get me wrong,” Sara had chuckled bringing her fingers to the buttons of his shirt. “I think you have hair in all the right places.” She had fingered his smooth chest before continuing her work on the buttons. “I’m just working with a theory…that you can grow a beard quickly due to your body not being,” Sara had sought her words carefully, twisting her lips to control her smile, “overtaxed.”

            Grissom had quirked a brow at Sara’s choice of words. “Well, there are other things that can…overtax a body,” he had suggested with a playful leer that had Sara giggling and divesting him of his shirt.

 

            The memory caused Sara to sigh softly. She missed those carefree moments. More importantly she missed the man lying deathly still before her. Her need to get away from the job, to vanquish her devils had been a difficult one and it had taken a toll on them, Sara knew that. She just prayed that the price was not too high.

            Sara grasped his left hand in both of hers, cradling it, dropping tiny kisses on his fingers. “You know, we never got to finish our last conversation…remember?”

            The gentle rise and fall of his chest was the only movement Grissom made.

            Sara hung her head, swallowing several times as she tried to get control of her emotions. “I, umm…Catherine says you’ve been having a hard time lately. She doesn’t say why but I suppose we all know the reason.” Sara took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I thought the hard part was going to be leaving you but the truth is that it was easy compared to staying away.”

            Sara played absentmindedly with the fingers of his hand as she tried to convey what the last four months had been like for her. She wasn’t trying to tell him his ordeal was any less than hers. There was no need to some how best him in misery, Sara just wanted him to understand that it had been hard. Every single, solitary step from the moment she had turned her back to him in the lab, with a slack jawed Hodges gaping at them, had been a tribute to a willpower Sara never knew she possessed.

            “I nearly missed my flight to San Francisco, just because of the sound of your voice,” Sara murmured, her mind recalling every second of that night. It was an easy task since it had been laser-etched into her mind.

 

Her cell phone had rung and without lifting it out of her pocket, Sara knew it had been Grissom. The easy thing to do would have been to shut the damned thing off, to ignore it, but she had never meant to slink away. It was why she had brought the phone with her instead of abandoning it to the glove box of her car.

 

            “Hi,” Sara whispered into the phone, lowering her head to shut out the world bustling around her.         

            “Sara?”

            “Yeah,” Sara took a slow steadying breath in through her nose. She could hear the fear in his voice and had only heard that tone twice before in all the years that she had known him. Each time had been on account of her, a danger to her. “Yeah, it’s me,” Sara continued, trying to smile.

            It’s not that bad, she silently told herself. It will workout. If I put my mind to it, work it like a time sensitive case.

            Sara’s thoughts stumbled because she didn’t believe a single word of it. Everything was so twisted at the moment she couldn’t figure out where to begin. The ends always seemed easy, so that was where she had decided to start. The past was one end and it was as tangled and gnarled as just about any part of her life, save for the present. The life she had with Gil was as perfect as she had ever thought one life could be but it was beginning to kink in places and it was because of the bind her past put on her life.

            “Are you alright?” Grissom’s words were measured in slow beats. In Sara’s mind’s eye she could see his blue eyed gaze searching hers, demanding answers her lips could not utter but her soul could not contain.

            “Yes, I…I’m at the airport,” Sara revealed. A part of her chastised herself, knowing full well she had disclosed that information to him in hopes he would come and stop her.

            “I’m worried about you,” he told her with that timbre in his voice that had a way of wrecking her but in such a wonderful way. That tone that defied her not to believe him, that resonated across every molecule of her being, wrapping her in tender warmth and giving his voice the kinetic energy to touch her with love from miles away.

            Sara was loved. It was as real as the rotation of the Earth in the heavens, as warm as the morning sun on her face and as brilliant as the desert moon on a clear night. Gil loved her and Sara loved him with every single beat of her heart and because of that she had to leave him, at least for the moment.

            “I know but I’ll be alright,” she said trying to comfort him, even as she took the steps that would lead her farther from him.

            There was a long pause and Sara briefly wondered if he had hung up.

            “Sara, promise me that if you need me, for anything, no matter where or what hour, that you will call me.”

            Sara swallowed the lump choking her and batted at the tears rolling down her cheek.

            “Yes, alright, I promise,” she said with a nod, even though he could not see it.

            “I don’t want you to go,” Gil softly said, his anguish bleeding through the receiver of her phone. “I…my mind understands why but… my heart…”

            Grissom never finished his thought but he didn’t have to, Sara knew.

            “I meant what I said in the letter,” She told him, wanting him to know she loved him, would always love him.

            “Even the goodbye?”

            A heavy silence hung between them as Sara heard the boarding call for her flight.

            “I just don’t know how long this will take,” She explained, her words coming out slowly. “I didn’t want you to think you had to wait for me.”

            “Sara,” her name came out in a painful groan. “Sara, I will wait for you until you tell me there is nothing left to wait for.”

            “Gil,” Sara choked, wanting to say more but unable.

            “Promise me.”

            “What?”

            “Promise me you will let me know when there is no hope left,” he said. “Because I will hold out until then. I will wait…until then.”

            Sara nodded furiously, her free hand covering her eyes trying to stem the tears.

            “Sara?”

            “I promise,” She choked as she prepared to board her plane.

            She could hear his exhale of pain. “I love you,” he finally said before hanging up, essentially setting her free.

            “I love you too,” Sara whispered, closing her phone.

 

            The door gently swinging open caught Sara’s attention, the painful memory being washed slowly from the forefront of her mind. The nurse in the bright yellow scrubs walked forward, giving Sara a genuine smile. She returned the smile if only half heartedly, watching as the woman cheerfully went about her business.

            “How’s our boy doing today?” She asked, pulling her stethoscope from the deep pocket of her scrub shirt.

            The woman was probably only a handful of years older then Grissom but was one of those friendly people that called complete strangers “Hon” and “Darlin’” and meant it. While Grissom was under her care he was just as much hers as he was Sara’s.  Sara’s smile widened at her tender care, how she carried on a one sided conversation with him while she took his vitals and checked his bandages. It was comforting to know that he was being so well cared for.

            “I don’t suppose he’s woke up for you, yet?” She asked Sara, her slight drawl telling Sara she wasn’t a native of Las Vegas but a transplant.

            “No,” Sara said, unable to hide the disappointment and sadness in her voice.

            “Well, don’t give up hope,” the woman said, giving Sara a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

            “No,” Sara told her, offering the nurse a weak smile. She wouldn’t give up hope until there was no hope left. “Never.”

           

IX:

            The Las Vegas Crime Lab went in cycles. The majority of time it was like the city itself, non-stop action 24/7 but there were always ebbs and flows to any cycle and as such the lab was rather quiet when Sara found Grissom in his office.

            “Hey,” she greeted softly, making her way through his office door.

            Grissom bestowed a soft, slightly tired smile on her. “Hey,” he returned, watching Sara take up residence in one of the two chairs on the opposite side of his desk. “What can I do for you?”

            Sara slid her gaze to the lab beyond his office, her lips puckering slightly as she tried to control the grin threatening to emerge.

            “What?” Grissom was somewhat amused by her behavior.

            “You got me in trouble with Sofia,” Sara accused, the grin now free upon her face.

            “I got you in trouble with Sofia,” Grissom repeated.

            “Mmm-hmm,” Sara gave him a little nod.

            “How’s that?” Grissom put his pen down on his desk and leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling at her barely contained merriment.

            “I was late to work.”

            Grissom’s blue eyes checked the halls outside his office. “Hmm, well as your supervisor, I hope you have a very good reason.”

            Sara’s brows arched as she looked at the man across the desk from her. He knew full well while she was late since he was the culprit.          “Well,” Sara made another sideways glance, “I’m not sure how appropriate it is more me to tell you this, you being my supervisor but…”

            Sara paused, watching his gaze dart from her to the hall and back again. The look in his eyes told her he was worried as hell someone would come by and overhear her but was too captivated by what she might say to stop her. 

            “I was detained by my overly amorous boyfriend,” Sara finally concluded.

            Grissom quirked a brow at her but said nothing.

            “It’s true. I would have been here in plenty of time… if he hadn’t worn me out,” another sideways glance to the hall had Sara pausing, “sexually and forgotten to reset my alarm for work.”

            Grissom couldn’t help the smirk that eased on to his lips and Sara could almost see the man’s chest puff out a little. Men! She thought in loving amusement, watching her proud rooster do everything he could not to crow and strut.

            The challenging look Sara shot back told Grissom he had best be careful. As much as he would like to exchange sexually laced tit-for tats with Sara, he was a good enough poker player to know when the other person had all the winning cards. Sara was in one of her rare, sultry moods at work and it never bode well for Grissom. He generally suffered from a major case of the “hornies” for the rest of the night, while Sara teased and tempted him at every turn.

            “So, umm,” Grissom stammered, trying not to be pulled in by her heated gaze. “Why was Sofia upset?”

            A full fledged grin broke out on Sara’s face. Grissom had conceded, this time. “She had to guard a payphone for an hour until I got there,” Sara answered, her voice letting him know he was off the hook for the moment. “It was used by Alison Bradford,” she explained.

            Grissom raised his chin. Catherine had just handed in the report on the case of the bigoted brother killing his sister’s hypertrichosis suffering boyfriend. The sister of Hayden Bradford had used the payphone to call 911 after witnessing her brother’s murder.

            “So,” Sara raised her long form out of the chair, her cat like grace effecting Grissom like it always did, his eyes running the length of her of their own volition. “I’ll see you later.”

            Grissom cast her a smoky look and a single nod. Silent promises were given as each gazed at the other, Sara finally relenting with a smile before leaving.

 

            * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            Even with his eyes closed Grissom still groaned against the soft white light pushing its way into the room through the blinds on the window. With his brows knit together, Grissom tried to roll his head away from the light. The action only adding to his misery as he became extremely aware of the grinding sensation within his skull.

            If he hadn’t been well familiarized with the feeling of a migraine headache, Grissom would have thought he was suffering from one of those debilitating conditions. This was different, however. It was difficult to qualify but Grissom knew that the pain pounding in his head was not due to a migraine. A quick check by his hand confirmed it, even if it momentarily confused him. His head was… bandaged.

            His narrowed eyes fought against the brightness to take in his surroundings. Hospital room, he realized immediately and with a groan Grissom tried to make sense of the situation he found himself in.

            Like a good filing clerk, Grissom checked off what he could remember the pieces slowly fitting together to show the whole picture. Rachel Miller case, tire cast, Rolex… Cray Thomas… Grissom’s hand gingerly inspected his head before pulling down the sheet and blanket covering him to gain access to his torso.

            “I was shot,” he muttered in surprise.

            “Yes, you were but you are on the mend now.”

            Grissom was startled by the woman’s voice as she entered his room. By the lavender colored scrubs and the identification badge attached her breast pocket, Grissom assumed she was a nurse, my nurse! Grissom was still slightly dumbfounded by the fact that he had been shot, twice apparently. He’d been in the business for twenty years, could count on one hand the number of times he had been injured on the job but nothing compared to a suspect trying to kill you…and nearly succeeding.

            “It’s good to see those baby blues open,” his nurse proclaimed with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

            “I,” Grissom needed a moment to collect his thoughts. “I have a headache,” he finally answered.

            “I’ll get you something for that.”

            “How long have I been here?” Grissom asked her, watching as she went into the adjoining restroom.

            “You were brought in six days ago,” she said, her voice raised to cover the distance and the sound of the running water.

            Six days?!?

“Here you go,” his nurse said with a smile, producing a small pink, plastic water pitcher and pouring him a drink.

            Taking the cup of water and the pills she handed him, Grissom dutifully swallowed. “I, umm,” Grissom ran the palm of his hand down along his face. “What hospital is this?” Grissom finally decided on.

            “Desert Palm,” she happily answered.

            “How did I get here?”

            “Mmm, not sure,” she answered as she checked his I.V. line. “I was out of town for a friend’s wedding. What a nightmare that was,” she told him eyes held wide.

            Grissom felt what little energy he had waned quickly. He didn’t feel like being social and certainly didn’t want to talk about weddings.  Would Sara and I have been married by now?

“I’m tired,” he told the nurse, closing his eyes and willing the world away.

            His nurse’s dark eyes took him in, her thin brows knitting together in slight concern. “Sure,” she said, lightly patting the top of his blanket covered foot. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”

            Grissom didn’t hear her, however, his tired mind and wounded body slipping easily into the dark oblivion once more. For Grissom it was a welcome feeling. No thoughts to plague him, no worries or recriminations and if he was lucky- no dreams.

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

            “So, what’s your objection to the state of matrimony?”

            Sara turned startled eyes up at Grissom. “What?” She asked, absentmindedly weaving and unweaving the fingers of her left hand in his right hand.

            Grissom gave her the hint of a grin as he brought her hand to his and dropped a soft kiss on her fingers. They had finally been cleared by IAB and after Under Sheriff McKeen reamed them a new, new one, had let her, Grissom, Greg and Nick off for the next eighteen hours.

            A much needed shower, six hours of sleep, some food and the two of them relaxed to living room couch and an afternoon of old movies and each other. Sara had taken up her second favorite television viewing position with Grissom, laying her head in his lap while curling up on the couch.

             “Nick seems to thing you are-“

            “Nick,” Sara interrupted, rolling her head in mild annoyance. “Nick…doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I just think that marriage has gotten to be more of an industry than an institution-“

            “Institution?”

            Sara shrugged. “Whatever, the point is that it’s gotten to be a…contest… of who can spend the most. You have couples spending twenty thousand dollars for a ceremony and then can’t make it twenty months as man and wife.”

            Sara sat up and Grissom ducked his head, smiling. She was definitely fired up.

            “They’ll compromise over whether to have fish or chicken as the main dish but…can’t find common ground in day to day life.” Sara caught the tiny smirk on Grissom’s face and realized she might have overreacted, a little. “It’s silly, I think.”

            Grissom eyed her. “So it’s not marriage, just excessive wedding costs?”

            Sara knew he was teasing her and tried to be grumpy with him but simply couldn’t. “Something like that,” she grumbled, laying her head back in his lap. “Why?”

             “Just good to know,” he answered, his attention seemingly on the television as he selected an old John Wayne movie.

            Sara grinned. It was Grissom’s way of silently saying his curiosity had been appeased and he didn’t have anything else to add to the conversation. Turning his attention back to the television, Sara scoffed, “John Wayne?”

            “Hey, there are baby elephants in it,” he told her, “you love baby elephants.”

            Sara chuckled. She didn’t care what they watched as long as they were together. She’d watch paint dry if she could be held by the man whose arms gently and protectively wrapped her in his embrace at that moment.

            * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            Brass was generally accompanied on an arrest by someone. Most often it was another police officer, occasionally one of the CSIs and on rare occasions multiple CSIs but Brass couldn’t recall the last time he had shown up with an arrest warrant in hand with the entire night crew, two State Troopers and Detective Curtis. It seemed everyone was interested in seeing Cray Thomas in handcuffs.

            Thomas’ uncle had tried  to use the brother in blue routine on Brass, wanting to bring his nephew in himself but Brass wasn’t about to extend the courtesy to the man. As it stood, the police captain had every intentions of having the powers in Carson City investigate Sheriff Thomas and his police force for possible obstruction charges and failure to perform their duties, among other offences. If the Sheriff had done his job in the first place, the Rachel Miller case may have never ended up on Grissom’s desk and maybe Cray Thomas wouldn’t have thought it was possible to murder a Las Vegas CSI.

            Cray Thomas glared at the group of friends watching as Brass lowered the young man’s head, placing him in the back of the Trooper’s patrol car. With a defiance born of privilege, Thomas gave the group a scornful grin.

            “This kid thinks he’s getting a free ride,” Warrick said incredulously as he stood between Catherine and Nick, watching the arrest of Rachel Miller’s rapist and murderer and Grissom’s shooter!

            “Well, his ride is closed,” Catherine said turning towards her truck. “Free or otherwise.”

            Nick gave a nod, his jaw set tightly as he watched the Trooper drive off with their suspect. “Has anybody talked to Sara this afternoon?”

            “I saw her this morning at the hospital before I went home,” Greg answered following his friends to the parked SUV. “Grissom hadn’t woken up yet.”

            Nick nodded, his next question having been answered. He’d feel a lot better if Grissom would just wake up, quote some Shakespeare, wow them with some seemingly trivial tidbit of knowledge, tell them to follow evidence…hell, growl at us to go away! Anything, from him would be a marked improvement. The waiting was starting to get to all of them, probably none more than Sara.

            Aside for the few hours that she spent at Grissom’s- their house, Sara was at the hospital, sitting at his side. It was probably the best medicine for Grissom and he hoped that Sara planned on staying because their loner, single serving, perfectly packaged and overly focused boss needed her more than any of them had realized.

            “I’m headed over there now,” Catherine called out, opening the driver’s side door to her Denali. “I’ll let you all know how he is later.”

            It was a simple understanding among them all. If you visited Grissom in the hospital you let everyone know the latest. It allowed them to focus more readily on their jobs and lessened their worries for their friend.

            * * * * * * * * *

            Sara was both relieved and amazed at how much the house had remained the same. Yes, she had been gone only four months and yes, Gil was not one to change his personal environment easily but it just seemed like her world had been shook like a Crazy Eight Ball and somehow the one and only home she had ever really known seemed to be completely unaffected by it. Everything was there, as if Gil had expected her to be home any moment.

            She had decided to take her journey so suddenly that she barely packed for her trip. After being in San Francisco for three weeks, Sara finally decided to stop recycling the same three outfits and went and bought enough clothes to make two more outfits. She didn’t want to buy anymore than that because somehow that made her separation from Gil more permanent, something her heart was unwilling to ponder.

            Hank came and sat down next to her, leaning against her legs as she stood in the kitchen, staring at her cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. She had come home before dawn, grabbed a couple of hours of quality sleep that didn’t involve her curled up in a hospital chair and was preparing to take Hank on his walk before heading back to Gil. The doctor’s had informed her that he was over the major hurdle but they were worried that he had not regained consciousness yet, something that Sara concurred with.

            Sara dropped her left head to the dog’s head rubbing his head, making his ears flop about. “I know, it’s time for our pedestrian form of transportation,” she told the dog not daring to say the “W” word until she had put her shoes on and truly was prepared to take him for his walk.

            Hank was a good dog. Grissom had trained him well but he was a FREAK for his walks. To say the boxer loved to go for a walk was sub-understatement. The moment Sara would say the word walk the dog would run in a circle at high speeds, like he was winding himself up in preparation of the event. Chairs, tables, whatever was in his spinning path were mowed down like house in the path of a tornado.

            Pouring the cold coffee in the sink, Sara walked to the short hallway that led to the front door, careful not to give the upcoming event away to the animal. Hanks’ tale thumped loudly on the floor as he sat and watched her put on her shoes, his front paws clicking away in hopeful anticipation of the WORD.

            Sara kept her eyes on her shoes, smiling as the memory of the first time Grissom had asked her to walk his dog came easily to her mind.

            “Walk?” She asked, the dog nearly knocking her down to get to the door.

           
            “You need me to walk your dog?”

             “The D.A. is dragging this thing out and I still haven’t given my testimony,” Grissom said, his voice sounding as if he was in a well, a common occurrence when speaking by phone in the hallowed halls of the Clark County Courthouse.

            “O-kay,” Sara answered, watching Greg through the thick paned glass separating the evidence room from the hall. They had just put the finishing touches on the case of a pair of co-eds that had died of carbon monoxide poisoning by dry ice. “Umm, is it a big dog or a little dog?”

            “Hank’s…”

            Hank!

            “…boxer, so he falls in the medium category for dog’s.”

            “He won’t try and eat me or anything,” Sara asked, not truly worried about the dog. She had never had a dog but they always seemed to like her for some reason.

            “No, he’s not overly aggressive,” Grissom reassured. “My spare house key is in the top, right hand drawer of my desk with the rest of the keys,” There was a pause and Sara sensed he was going to say something more. “Why don’t you keep it. I’ll…get another to replace it.”

            Sara’s eyes widened and Greg gave her a curious look through the glass, causing Sara to grin and shrug before turning away from him. “Sure,” she said softly.

            “Thanks,” Grissom said, pausing before adding, “I’ll owe you one. Maybe dinner…tonight?”

            A squeak escaped Sara’s throat, causing her hand to come up and cover her mouth, her eyes seeking witnesses to her odd behavior. “Sure, um…that would be great,” she finally said, composing herself as she did so.

            “I will call you later, then.”

            Sara nodded, “okay,” she said as she closed her cell phone. Sara lowered her head and squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she attempted to contain the overwhelming urge to jump in the air and scream. YES! Finally, dinner with Grissom! She thought before another thought jumped to mind. If I get dinner for walking the dog, what would I get if I gave the dog a bath?

            A number of less then appropriate thoughts danced tantalizing in her head as Sara abruptly waved to Greg and ran off to the ladies restroom, a fit of giggles threatening to spring forth.

           
            “Let’s go,” Sara said as she followed Hank out the front door. “Let’s make this one quick. I want to go see your daddy.”

            Sara chuckled, knowing full well that if Gil had been within ear shot he would have called out, like he always did, “I’m not his daddy. I’m his owner.” Sara loved to tease him with little things like that and Gil would grumble but was never very good at hiding the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth.

X:

 

            The giant double sliding glass doors that made up the main entrance parted as Catherine Willows approached, a young Hispanic man wheeling his wife and newborn baby through the open doors, their smiles bright as they passed. Catherine couldn’t count the number of time she had gone through those exact doors, more often then not, without a beaming smile.

            Lindsay had been born at Desert Palm Hospital, the happiest day of her life but it was also the hospital they had brought Nick after he had been rescued and Sara after she had been found nearly dead in the desert. Catherine couldn’t count the number of victims she had interviewed within the walls of the hospital, some making it some not. Desert Palm had also been the place where Grissom had had his ear surgery five years ago.

 

            “Hey, you’re looking a little scruffy,” Catherine said, smiling at the man packing his belongings in the small duffle bag.

            Grissom looked up from his task, eager to get checked out of the hospital and back to his townhouse. He had been in the hospital for two days which in his book was one day too many.

            “Hi,” he greeted, his voice sounding a little odd to him as he motioned towards his face. “Didn’t feel like worrying about it.”

            “Well, it’s not like you haven’t had a beard before,” Catherine pointed out, watching him zip up his belongings.

            When she had started at the lab, Grissom had seemed to sport three days of beard growth regularly. One week he would be clean shaven the next he looked a little rough around the edges, especially if he had done a run of doubles. Catherine had finally asked him if he was growing the beard on purpose or was just forgetting to shave but in true Grissom fashion he had only given her an obtuse answer that was no answer at all.

            “I thought I save you from a cab ride,” she told Grissom as he shouldered the dark blue duffle bag with the LVPD logo emblazoned in white on the side.

            “Thanks,” Grissom had replied.

            On the elevator ride down, Grissom had asked if anyone had asked about him during his absence.

            “The gang’s a little surprised to learn you are actually taking time off,” Catherine answered, watching the lights change as they descended. “I think Nicky might be utilizing a 12 step program, he’s never actually known you to take vacation and…I think Sara is…curious.”

            Grissom looked to the woman next to him, a tiny worried spark in his eyes. “You didn’t tell anyone where I was, did you?”

            The elevator dinged, telling the occupants they had arrived on the ground floor. Waiting for Catherine to exit first, Grissom stopped, making it a point to look directly at her. “Catherine?”

            Catherine led him from the lobby through the large double glass sliding doors. “No,” she informed him, slipping her sunglasses onto her face. “All they know is that you are taking two weeks of vacation out of the trillion you’ve racked up.”

            Grissom couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that escaped him as he followed Catherine along the sidewalk that led to one of the many parking areas for the hospital. Catherine turned to look at him, Grissom keeping his eyes forward as he tried to ignore his little tell.

            “You know Gil, we all care about you,” Catherine began, clicking the button on her key chain that would unlock her truck doors.

            At Catherine’s poignant stare, Grissom nodded. “I know.”

            The two friends slipped into the shaded interior of the truck, Catherine placing the key in the ignition and turning the engine on.

            “I’d rather just get past this and get back to work, that’s all.”

            Catherine looked at her friend for a moment. “You know, we all expect a lot from you, it’s just how it is, but you,” Catherine said emphasizing the last, “are the only one that expects you to be superhuman.”

            Grissom turned from the front window to look at Catherine.

            “You’re human, Gil,” Catherine put the SUV in gear. “Get over it.”

 

            “Catherine! Greg!”

            Greg shot his arm out, catching the elevator door at the familiar voice.

            “Sara, hey, anything new?” Catherine asked stabbing the elevator button that would take them to the floor Grissom was on.
           
            “I went home and snuck a few hours of sleep in a bed…did a few chores,” Sara explained, her eyes drifting up to the numbered lights over the elevator door. “He still hadn’t woken up.”

            Catherine could sense the thread of sadness coming off Sara as she spoke and lifted her left hand and placed it on the other woman’s shoulder. “He will,” she told Sara with a gentle smile.

            “And he’s going to be massively stoked to see you,” Greg added, trying to raise Sara’s spirits.

            “I hope so.”

            Both Catherine and Greg looked slightly surprised at Sara’s words.

            “Sara the man has been pining for you for four months. He’s been trying to drown himself in work in the hopes of being to busy to notice you were gone and has been doing a slow meltdown for the last six weeks. Even Hodges avoids him, now!” Catherine said incredulously.

            “Wow,” Sara laughed because she didn’t want to cry. “If Hodges is giving up kiss ass time…”

            Greg grinned and Catherine chuckled as the three exited the elevator on to the floor Grissom was assigned.

            Directly in front of the elevators was the nurse’s station. A large open area, separating the station and the halls with a light maple colored counter. On the area behind the counter, were large LCD screens that projected a computer program that displayed room numbers, patient names, attending physicians and various acronyms only the hospital staff were privy to.

            Grissom was assigned to the room  just past the small waiting area adjacent to the elevators and directly across from the nurse’s station. Something that Sara had been thankful for on a number of occasions. The last thing she wanted to do after hours of running on caffeine and more caffeine was to have to walk for ever to the elevators or nurse’s station

The floor was relatively devoid of traffic but was hardly quiet. In fact the three people exiting the elevator became very aware of an angry voice, emanating from not far off. There hopeful and surprised gazes seeking each other out.

            The nurse behind the counter hung up the phone she had to her ear upon seeing Sara, Catherine and Greg, recognizing the three friends from their many hours of visiting the patient in room 816.

            “Sara, oh Sara,” the young nurse called out, her hands waving before her as she rushed out to greet the woman. “You have to talk to him. I’ve called Dr. Hildebrand and he’s on his way but he’s giving DeeDee and Barb a really hard time,” the young brunette nurse rambled.

            “Gil? Gil’s awake?”

            “Yes, he woke up for a short time, right after you…left and-“

            Catherine put her hand up, silently telling the young woman to give up as Sara had already begun to walk off. Sara had only taken a handful of steps when Grissom had exited his room. Dressed in a pair of pale green scrub pants and a gray t-shirt, he looked like fifty year old intern as he angrily waved off the two women arguing with him.

            “Mr. Grissom, you are not well enough to leave the hospital,” the nurse that Sara assumed was DeeDee, since she had never met her, said.

            “I’m checking out,” Grissom stated firmly, his voice only hinting at the anger that was easily readable on his face.

            With the goatee and his hair wildly out of control, Grissom actually looked dangerous as he walked fully into the hallway.

            “Gil,” Sara said, her voice wavering slightly.

            Grissom stopped dead in his tracks, his blue eyes zeroing in on Sara, the angry frown slowly giving way to one of confusion. “Sara?”

            Sara willed herself to take six or seven steps that would bring her to him, her legs feeling weak, a constant tremble working its way up and down her body. “Yeah,” she whispered as she stopped before him.

            Grissom looked at her, taking in every detail, every inch of her face, his blue eyes so haunted and so hopeful at the same time. His lips moved as he tried to form the words that were racing through his mind. Raising his right hand, Grissom ran the backs of his fingers down Sara’s cheek. “I thought I had dreamed you,” Grissom whispered, his other hand reaching up to take her face in his hands.

            “No, I’m right here,” Sara choked, her smile wide as she blinked wildly to keep the tears from flowing. “Right where I’m supposed to be.”

            As if to reaffirm what is eyes and hands were telling him, Grissom leaned in, meeting her lips in the gentlest of kisses. The soft warm slide of lips a loving caress as warmth flooded their bodies, chasing the sorrows of the past several months away. It was life affirming, it was love given substance, a timeless piece of heaven for them alone.

            Catherine pressed her fingers to her lips, certain that if she didn’t the smile behind the digits would surely crack her face. They’re going to be okay, she thought happily.

            “Hey, he’s up.”

            Catherine and Greg turned smiling faces to greet Nick, Warrick and Jim as they approached, having just stepped off the elevator to see the two standing in each others embrace.

            “Yeah,” Catherine finally gave in  and grinned from ear to ear. If I start crying happy tears… Catherine didn’t want to think about the ribbing the guys would give her for that emotional faux pas!

            Greg turned back to Grissom and Sara, the two standing with foreheads softly pressed to one another, whispering words only they could hear. A wan smile playing at his lips as he watched Sara quietly led Grissom back to his hospital room.

            At one time Greg had felt more than a crush for Sara Sidle but less than love. Seeing Sara and Grissom together was like watching true love and it made Greg realize how amazingly rare such a love was. He could only hope to be as lucky as Grissom was. To find that one person that made each breath taken and every minute lived that much deeper and richer than the last.

            “Shall we?” Brass asked pausing and looking back at the four CSIs, giving them a broad smile and a wink as he led the way to Grissom’s hospital room.

            “Hell, yeah,” Warrick said, slapping his hands together and following Brass. Catherine, Nick and Greg laughing and following closely behind.

 

            * * * * * * * * *

            White ribbons danced playfully on the gentle breeze, atop thin poles decorated with Stepanotis flowers. The sun had just crested the morning horizon decorating the brilliant blue of the sky with dashes of pink and orange and causing the deep blue of the water below the plateau to sparkle as if diamonds lay just under its surface.

            Standing under a diaphanous canopy that fluttered gently in the breeze were Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom, listening happily as the man before them spoke the age old words that would make them man and wife. Standing behind them in a semi-circle was the family that had grown up with and around them.

            It was a little untraditional, a little out of the ordinary but what they had as a couple and a family was extraordinary. The events that had brought them together, the trials that had transpired against them and the tribulations that would have ripped lesser bonds asunder had only strengthened them. They stood together in the bad times and stood together now in the best of times, watching as Gil and Sara leaned in to share a kiss.

            With the applause of the other guests filling the air of the bright plateau, Gil and Sara turned to their friends and with hearty handshakes and warm hugs they were greeted. Catherine wasn’t even embarrassed when a small tear of joy escaped down her cheek as she hugged Sara then Gil.

            “I knew it,” she whispered in his ear.

            “Knew what?” he asked, the smile on his face only adding to Catherine’s happiness.

            “I knew you’d forget about that microscope eventually.”

            Grissom grinned. “Really?”

            “Really,” Catherine said, returning his grin. “Because nothing under that microscope compared to what you saw when she walked in the room.”

            Grissom turned to watch as Sara hugged her mother with the hand holding her small bouquet of lilies, the other firmly holding his hand. Catherine was right, nothing in the world could compare to her in Grissom’s eyes. Sara was his alpha and omega and everything in between.

            “Hey, come on, throw the bouquet already,” Greg happily prodded with a bright smile. “Weddings make me hungry.”

            Sara was tempted to throw the bouquet at Greg but felt they had to follow some traditions. As she had told them years ago, she wasn’t anti-wedding just anti-stupid and there was nothing stupid about marrying the love of her life, her forever.

            Sara pulled one lily from the bouquet and handed it to Catherine, saying “Thank you, Cath, for everything,” before turning and tossing the bouquet into the air, the white flowers sailing into the eager hands of David Hodges. Sara turned and laughed, sinking happily into Gil’s side.

            “It’s so us, babe,” Sara told him happily which yielded her a quirked brow and lopsided smirk.

            “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “We need to feed Greg before he takes up a pole and starts fishing from the lake.”

            When Grissom had asked her if she wanted to have a reception, Sara had said, “Something simple, along the same lines as the wedding.”

 

            “So, what were you thinking of for the menu?” he asked, sitting down next to her on the couch, leaning slightly into her as he rested his head on the back of the couch.
 
            Sara hesitated for a split second, her smile widening as the answer became brilliantly clear to her. “Breakfast,” she answered.

            “Breakfast?” Gil rotated to his right, his shoulder pushing into the back of the couch as he looked at Sara with amused curiosity.

            “Yeah, breakfast,” she repeated, snuggling closer.

            “It has an, umm, untraditional quality to it,” Gil smirked.

             Sara had wanted to eliminate the traditional groomsmen and bridesmaids position, opting for their friends to stand up with them during the ceremony.

            “Breakfast was how we went from that,” Sara waved her hand in front of her at some arbitrary point in space, “to this,” she finished linking her arm around his middle as she snuggled into him. “If we hadn’t rebuilt our relationship over breakfast would you have ever shown up on my door after Nick’s abduction?”

            Gil arched his brows in answer, unwilling to embrace her argument but unable to effectively counter it. He would like to believe that regardless of his less than active pursuit of Sara previous to Nick’s abduction, that they were meant to be together and would have been together regardless.

            “Breakfast.” Gil repeated as if asking for verification.

            “Breakfast,” Sara grinned, truly embracing the idea. “It’s perfect.”

 

           
            “Come on, Greg,” Grissom said, patting the younger man on the shoulder. “Breakfast is on us.”

            Greg made a showing of his enthusiasm; almost running to the vehicles parked several yards away, causing Sara to nudge Grissom with her shoulder as they walked hand in hand.

            Settling Sara into the passenger seat of his SUV, Grissom leaned in and gave Sara a quick kiss. “I’ll feed them breakfast but dinner’s just the two of us,” he said, giving her a wink as he shut the door.

            A caravan of vehicles abandoned the plateau overlooking a sparkling Lake Mead, as Gil and Sara went to have breakfast with their family and friends. Sara was right, Grissom thought. It is perfect!