A/N: Well, here we are. Post-"Forget Me Not". And... well, I'm a little speechless. I'm exhausted from analyzing every angle and word and eyebrow lift of Jorja's. Oh, if you haven't seen "Forget Me Not"... don't read this if you don't want to be spoiled.

That said, I loved the episode. I thought the story was great, the acting was great and it was heartbreakingly emotional. If it weren't for You Know What, it would have been perfect. But I just can't believe they did that.

So anyway, this is my "Forget Me Not" response. It ties together "Risky Business Class", when Sara first began ignoring Grissom's calls, to "Dead Air" and their off-screen phone conversation, a bit of the in between in "In Vino Veritas" and, of course, "Forget Me Not". So spoilers for all of the above. Please, please, tell me what you think! And keep the faith!

December 2012

Watching Doug walk out of the lab brought everything to a halting reality. The phone tag they played on their anniversary. How little they had talked since. How nearly every call Sara made to his cell seemed to go straight to voicemail, no matter the time of day.

She very suddenly wished she had taken Doug up on his offer and, for just one night, allowed herself a distraction and a chance to be happy, if only few a few hours.

Even though she no longer had feelings for Doug, being with him had brought memories – happy ones. Memories of a happier her, who laughed and teased and had fun. And that was what hurt the most.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket for one last try.

"Hi."

The soft murmur of her husband's voice surprised her, and her tone reflected it as she said hello in return.

"You seem surprised."

"Honestly… I am," Sara answered. "It's just… it's been so long."

"I know," Grissom sighed. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

Sara closed her eyes and nodded as her husband ran through the usual list – he's been busy, he's been tired, the cell reception is just so bad.

"So anyway, how are you?" he asked.

"I'm good," she answered automatically. "I just…"

She trailed off, deciding in an instant not to bring up Doug.

"I just finished a case," she concluded. "How are you? Are you finally winning over that ego-maniac botanist you were telling me about?"

"Look, Sara, I actually can't talk long," Grissom said as Sara felt her heart sink through to her feet. "I only answered because we've been missing each other all week. I'm just—"

"Really busy," Sara finished flatly.

Silence settled between them, and Sara waited several beats, waiting for him to apologize or deny. When he didn't, she took a deep breath.

"Gil," she said slowly, cupping the phone nearer to her mouth and making sure nobody else was within earshot. "Have you been avoiding me?"

"No," Grissom said quickly. "Sara – no. I promise we'll get to talk soon. I just… have a lot on my hands right now."

"Look," Sara said after another long pause. "My birthday's in a few months. What would you say to coming back into town for a few days? We can… book a fancy hotel, share a piece of chocolate cake. I'll even book everything for us, since I know how much price comparison frustrates you."

Grissom half-snorted, half-laughed, and Sara felt a small smile spread across her face.

"Okay," he conceded. "Book me a flight, and I'll be there for your birthday."

"Okay," Sara repeated with a full-on smile. "You promise?"

"I promise," Grissom said. "But I have to go – I'll talk to you soon."

"I—I love you," Sara threw in.

"…I love you too."

It's me again. I think… I think we really need to talk. You're always saying I need to be better at communicating with you, and… well, this is me trying. I'm really trying, Sara. Even if you don't like what I have to say. Call me back.

It was just one of four voicemails Grissom had left on Sara's phone throughout their investigation into Theresa Shea's death, each one more upsetting than the last. By the time she saw his name on her screen in Russell's office, she knew there was no avoiding it any longer.

"Hello."

"You've been hard to get a hold of," Grissom said.

"Yeah," Sara deadpanned. "Um, I'm so sorry. How are you?"

"I'm okay," Grissom said. "Is now a good time?"

Sara's stomach twisted in anticipation, and she checked that Russell had closed the door on his way out.

"I guess now's as good a time as any," she said. "Are you calling to tell me you made a surprise visit and you're sitting in my bed at this moment?"

Sara held her breath, hoping he'd chuckle or come back with a witty line of his own. When he did, she'd know everything was okay. That he was just calling to tell her he couldn't make her birthday, or that he'd be a week later, or maybe that he wanted her to come to him instead. That, she could handle.

But instead, he sighed

"Sara," he said sadly. "I think you know what it is we need to talk about."

"You can't do this," Sara said. "Not here – not now."

"Then when?" Grissom asked. "Because we certainly haven't been racking up any phone bills lately. Do you think this has been fun for me? Waiting around, with this weighing down on my shoulders, waiting for the time when you'd finally pick up?"

"Weighing on your shoulders?" Sara retorted. "And what do you think has been weighing on mine? Why don't you just come out and say exactly what it is you want to say?"

"I think… we need to stop this," Grissom said. "Stop running around in circles, stop chasing down phone calls and stop pretending that everything is normal. I think… it would be best if we separate."

The word felt like acid on her tongue, but she repeated it anyway.

"Separate?"

"Our marriage is a crumbling landslide that we're trying so desperately hard to hang on to and not get buried under," Grissom said. "How is that possibly good for either of us? Sara, it's… it's for the best."

"The best for who?" Sara said. "Gil – I love you. I know that things are… less than ideal right now, but how can we deny that we still love each other?"

"I'll always love you, Sara," Grissom said. "And that's why I have to do this. Honey, you are miserable –"

"Don't," Sara cut in, her voice trembling. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Call me 'honey'," Sara said. "You break my heart and tell me it's for the best, but you know what I'll hang onto when we hang up? That moment where you called me 'honey'. Because it gives me something to cling to. And I convince myself that maybe we'll still be okay."

She felt her throat tighten, and knew she couldn't choke out any more words through her tears, so she let her statement hang between them. Once again a long, unsettled pause captured the phone line.

"Sara," he said finally. "You are not happy. You're not happy with our marriage and you can't possibly tell me that you're not. And I… I can't possibly continue like this any longer. I'm here, you're there… we're doing separate things and leading separate lives and I don't think that's ever going to change. That's not a way for you to live, hon—Sara. I just… I need to know that you are happy and not living with the pain I'm causing you."

"And what's this?" Sara trembled. "What's this that you're doing right here, right now? How could this possibly be any better?"

"It will hurt," he said. "And it will hurt me too. I have never…"

His voice broke, and Sara choked out a sob, immediately clapping her hand to her mouth in hopes he didn't hear it.

"I have never loved anyone more than I have loved you," he finished, his wavering voice obviously fighting tears too. "But that is why this is the only option for us right now."

"But it worked," Sara pleaded. "It worked, for a while. If we just tried harder…"

"Too much has happened to go back," Grissom said. "It worked, and that was… it was…"

He broke off again, and Sara had to stretch across a pile of paperwork on Russell's desk to grab a tissue.

"I will never regret coming to Costa Rica with you," he said. "I will never regret marrying you. You have been and always will be the greatest thing to happen to me in my life. But we need to acknowledge that the time when we made each other happy has passed… and we can't go on living like it hasn't."

"What about last week?" Sara asked. "What about your visit? You promised."

"I should never have," Grissom said regretfully. "I was thinking about this last week, but when you asked, I just… I couldn't say no. I should have, but I thought that maybe one more chance to be together might change things."

"Maybe it will," Sara whispered. "You don't know that it won't – maybe it will. Maybe we just… we need to remember what it's like to be together again. Will you please… will you please just come?"

"I'm sorry, Sara," Grissom said. "I know you'll loathe me for what I'm about to say, but please know that I mean it when I say I'm doing this for you."

"Gil, please think about this."

"I have," he said. "And I would really like you to promise that you will do everything you can to treat yourself and be happy. Because… nothing would make me happier than knowing you're happy."

"Gil…"

"I have to go. Take care of yourself. Goodbye."

February 2013

Sara's phone beeped with the fifth text message of the night. She knew who it was from and what it would say, even without giving it a second glance. Hodges had apparently bestowed some wine expertise upon Morgan, who had subsequently invited the entire team over to her place for a wine and cheese night at the conclusion of their wine-filled investigation.

Russell was in New York and Finn had declined, but Nick and Greg were both there, and they were both adamantly begging her to join.

The truth was, she was already drinking. She was at a bar and on her fourth beer, though she had been there already for several hours, so her response from the alcohol was nothing but a light buzz.

As she put the bottle back down on the coaster, the glass clinked with the ring on her left finger. She'd now been officially separated from her husband for two weeks, but she couldn't bring herself to take it off. She and Grissom hadn't spoken since that night two weeks ago, but as soon as she had hung up with him, she had put in for a week's worth of vacation time. As strong willed as she liked to think she was, she wasn't quite ready to begin pretending that nothing had changed amongst some of the people who knew her the best.

So for a week, she had been shamefully emotional. She'd eaten chocolate, drunk wine and failed miserably at avoiding the pictures of her and Grissom that seemed to be at every turn in her house.

And she'd cried. She cried a lot. But she told herself it was okay, because she needed to be dried up of tears by the time she returned to work. There was no way she was going to walk into the lab an emotional wreck and become the superbitch who had ruined everything with Gil Grissom the Great.

And it seemed to have worked. She kept her ring on, her smile bright and her mind distracted, and nobody seemed to give her a second thought. Not even Russell, who, albeit had his hands full that week, but who she was sure had not forgotten leaving her to a seemingly serious phone call in his office two weeks ago.

"You look like you're having one hell of a day."

Sara looked up to find a man standing by the empty stool beside her, glancing down at her with kind eyes and an easy smile.

"Try one hell of a month," she said, directing her eyes back to her empty bottle.

"Well, that warrants another drink," the man said. "Do you mind?"

"…No."

He sat beside her and signaled the bartender to bring over two more drinks. Sara took a long sip as soon as the fresh bottle was placed before her.

"If it helps any, I'm having one hell of a month, too," he said. "I drove all the way here this morning – from Carson City, seven hours – hoping to… change my luck or get something out of my system or… I don't really know what. But it didn't work."

"I'm sorry," Sara said.

"What about you? What troubles are you trying to drown?"

"I don't usually tell strangers in bars about my personal life," Sara smirked.

"That's very smart," he teased back. "You don't have any idea who I am."

Sara took another sip, and the man smiled.

"But since you asked, I'm Taylor."

"Sara," she conceded. "And thanks for the beer."

"Don't mention it," Taylor waved off. "I recognize another lost soul when I see one."

They drank in silence for a while, watching the other patrons move around them.

"So Sara," Taylor said eventually. "If you don't want to talk about your worries, and I know I certainly don't want to talk about mine, what will we talk about?"

Sara sipped thoughtfully.

"How about how you approach random women in bars and rely on charm to not get you a punch in the face?"

"You think I'm charming?"

Sara raised and lowered a shoulder.

"You bought me a beer when mine was gone," she said. "I'm about ready to call you the most goddamned charming man on the planet."

Taylor pointed the neck of his beer bottle towards her.

"You're funny, Sara," he said. "I like you. Are you sure half a dozen burly men aren't going to burst through those doors and beat me up for putting the moves on you?"

"These are moves?"

"I bought you a drink, what else would it be?"

"Your moves need serious work," Sara chided. "It's going to take a lot more than that to get a woman to drink number two."

Sara jumped at the sudden realization that his hand was on her knee.

"These are the moves," Taylor said. "Ready for drink number two yet?"

Sara smiled, but shook her head.

"Thanks, but if I have one sip more, I won't be able to drive and I really do not want to come back for my car tomorrow."

"The bar version of the walk of shame," Taylor smiled.

"Exactly," Sara grinned back. "But thank you. This was exactly what I needed tonight."

"Let me walk you out," Taylor offered. "No more moves – I promise!"

Sara laughed.

"Yeah, okay," she said. "Why not?"

He grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and followed her through the crowd to the parking lot.

"So… not to threaten my streak of good luck by posing a stalker-like question, but… do you come here often?"

"Maybe," Sara half-smiled. "Why?"

"Because the next time I'm in Vegas, I'd really like to look you up."

Sara said nothing, but reached for her jacket. Instead of handing it to her, he held it open, helping her slip her arms into the sleeves and keeping a hand on her elbow when she tried to turn away.

"Is this your car?" he asked lowly.

"Yes," she replied. "Why?"

"Because it would be awkward to do this if it wasn't."

He pushed her against the side of her car, moving his hand from her elbow to her waist, his face just inches from her's.

"I thought you said no more moves," Sara teased.

"I lied to your face," he said.

Sara giggled, her heart literally thumping against her chest in anticipation. She hadn't kissed anyone but Grissom in at least eight years, probably more. But his kindness and the way he wasn't making this seem like a cheap make out outside the bar made her dip her head closer to his lips. When he made contact, she gasped just a little, but it was because she was surprised at how good it felt.

"Are you okay?" he murmured against her lips.

"Just keep going," she breathed.

He kissed her harder, both hands on her hips now, and her back pressed hard against the side of her door. She let herself get lost in his grasp, let herself have the distraction she'd been denying herself for so long. She didn't know how much time passed, but she focused on the small things; the heat of his breath against her skin when he pulled away for just a moment, the very light touches from his fingers on the hem of her shirt and, when his hands wandered to her head, the gentle strokes of his thumbs against her cheek. It was so similar to how Grissom kissed her, and that's what made it feel so good.

Eventually, their kisses slowed, their breathing evened.

"Did I tell you this was exactly what I needed tonight?" Sara asked softly.

"You did," Taylor smiled. "Does this mean I get to see you again?"

"We'll just have to see," Sara winked. "If the bar gods allow it, I'll see you next time."

Before he could say anything more, or kiss her again, she hopped into her car and drove out of the lot. Part of her felt at ease for the first time in two weeks, and part of her felt like crying. Something had broken within her when she and Grissom ended that call, and nothing in this world – no amount of kisses from no man – would be able to fix it. But she had to admit that kissing Taylor… well, she hadn't hated it.

"Thank you," Sara told Nick and Greg after the most hellish week of her life had, hopefully, mercifully come to an end. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I meant what I said, Sara," Greg said. "We're family. We don't run away when the going gets tough."

"Except for right now," Nick chuckled. "Because this family member has got to run home and feed his dog before the latter eats the garbage!"

Sara laughed as Nick scooted around the table and hugged her.

"I'm glad you're all right," he said. "You call me if you need anything, okay?"

Sara nodded.

"You got it."

Nick took off, and left Greg still sitting across from her, smiling.

"What?" she asked.

"You know we'll be on a rotating schedule of keeping you company, right?" Greg said.

Sara smiled.

"You know, ordinarily I'd fight that tooth and nail, but I think I kind of need that right now."

They stood simultaneously and Greg reached out to hug her.

"You know," Greg started as they parted. "I have the greatest respect for Grissom as my old boss, and I do miss him, but… I'll always be on Team Sara."

Sara beamed at him, he winked and left her alone. She sat back down next to her coffee and drank the rest of the mug in silence, watching the hustle and bustle of the lab through the glass walls, a constant stream of business as if the last three days hadn't changed everything.

She took her last sip, put her mug at the sink, and before heading home at last, she tugged her wedding band off her finger and slipped it into her pocket.