Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for stopping by to read this. In the past, my post-ep stories have stood alone. But this one follows the same time line as the previous post-ep story, and I'm considering continuing the trend. I hope you enjoy it!:)

A Single Way to Change the World

by Kristen Elizabeth

These great turning-days of life cast no shadow before, slip by unconsciously. Only a trifle, a little turn of the rudder and the ship goes to heaven or hell. – Rebecca Harding Davis

He was supposed to arrive on Friday, but the discovery of a little girl in a box kept him in Vegas until Wednesday. When he finally did call, it was from the airport.

"I'm here, Sara." She remembered what it felt like to be as tired as he sounded and she didn't miss it. "You don't have to come get me. I'm taking a cab."

For the next forty-five minutes, Sara ran around her recently rented apartment, changing the sheets on her bed, lighting candles and putting a bottle of wine to chill on the air conditioning vent. She traded her sloppy sweatpants and t-shirt for a pair of jeans and a dark blue tunic top, and dabbed on a touch of the perfume he always said was his favorite.

The last thing she did before the doorbell rang was to place the box of condoms she'd purchased the week before on the bedside table.

She opened the door and leaned against the frame, taking in the sight of him. Bearded again, but still perfectly grey. Still able to make her heart skip a beat. "Hello, Gilbert."

Grissom didn't wait for an invitation to enter. He dropped his bag at the threshold and grabbed her, pulling her body up against his. His kiss was hard and desperate and took her breath away. If he was punishing her for the circumstances of their last kiss, she gladly accepted the reprimand.

She fumbled to lock the door as his mouth plundered hers. "Gil," she managed to murmur in a moment's break between kisses. "I…"

"Shh." Grissom slipped his hand underneath the loose hem of her top and cupped her breast in his palm. "I need you, Sara."

He was still fully clothed, but the words left him naked and raw before her. Sara swallowed back a hard lump in her throat before reaching for him. Arms and legs entwined, lips met and melded, clothes fell where they landed.

After she went through all the trouble of preparing the bedroom, they ended up on the couch.

It was quick, hot and thoroughly satisfying. Almost before she knew it, Sara found herself panting for air beneath his heavy, beloved body. His sweaty skin slid against hers as they twisted around on the narrow cushions until Sara was lying on top of him.

As the sun went down outside, only candlelight bathed the room in a soft, yellow glow. They lay together, still joined, unable to say anything for fear of waking up and finding that it had just been a dream.

When Grissom finally did speak, his words rumbled against her ear. "I think it's going to rain tonight."

"It does rain here. A lot." When she kissed his chest, her tongue darted out to taste his salty-sweet skin. "I've got more candles if the power goes out."

A few minutes later, as if called forth by their conversation, rain began a pitter-patter dance against the windows.

"Do you feel like talking about your case?" Sara asked. He was drawing invisible patterns on her back with the very tips of his fingers, making her whole body shiver.

"There isn't much to say." Grissom's hands stopped. "It was just a tragic accident."

Sara lifted her head to look down at him. "I want to believe you, but you look so tired, baby."

"I haven't been sleeping well," he admitted.

"For how long?"

His eyes met hers. "Since November."

It was when she sat up all the way, and their bodies separated, that she felt the warm wetness between her thighs. "Oh no."

Grissom frowned. "What's wrong?"

Sara cursed under her breath. "I forgot to tell you…" She shook her head at her own stupidity. "I stopped wearing the patch a few months ago."

He was quiet for a second. "Is it a dangerous time of the…" A simple nod of her head answered his unfinished question. "Okay," he eventually said.

"Okay?" She stared at him. "We could have just created a serious complication in our already complicated situation, and all you can say is 'okay'?"

"What do you want me to say, Sara?"

Crossing her arms over her breasts, Sara shook her head. "I don't know. Say what's on your mind."

"That was on my mind." Grissom pushed himself up on his elbows. "Okay."

"What does that mean?" she nearly shouted at him. "You can't be okay with this. The last time I thought I was pregnant, you told me you were suffocating!"

"I never said that," he corrected her with an edge of impatience. "I was talking about the case and your stress made you read too much into what I was saying."

It was an old argument, one that she wasn't inclined to pick up again. "Fine. But you can't deny that you've avoided the topic of children in the past."

"In the past," he repeated. "Yes."

Sara ran her hands through her hair, fighting the urge to pull it out. "Gil, we can't have a baby."

"Physically, yes, we can. You…"

She shot him the most shriveling glare she was capable of mustering. "If you so much as utter the words 'ovulation' or 'sperm count,' I will make you regret it."

For the first time since entering the apartment, Grissom smiled. "God, I've missed you, honey."

The rain was picking up outside; the gentle pitter-patter turned in a full orchestra against the roof. Inside, Sara's eyes smarted. She looked down at her hands, focusing on her bare left ring finger.

"I tried so hard to stay," she whispered. "And now it's all I can do to stay away." Grissom lifted her chin up; she looked at him through a film of hot tears. "Why do you want to have a baby now? If you'd asked before I left…maybe I could have held on."

"Back in Vegas, they're getting ready to bury a little girl who only lived for three years, but was loved by many people, and mourned by even more. Her life wasn't a waste." Grissom lifted his shoulders. "My whole life, I've been so afraid of losing things that I never let myself have them. You showed me what a waste that was."

Sara tried not to roll her eyes as she swiped at her wet cheeks. "You do realize you're not making much sense."

Grissom gathered her hands between his. "If we did make something tonight, I don't think it'll be a mistake. Yes, it will complicate everything. It'll force us to figure out what happens next. And it won't be easy, but…" He kissed her knuckles. "It'll be loved. Very, very loved."

"You drank on the plane, didn't you?"

He shook his head. "Not a drop."

Freeing one hand from his grasp, Sara rubbed the base of her throat to keep breathing. "You would seriously want…if it happened…you would want this?"

"Maybe you didn't forget to tell me you stopped wearing your patch," he replied softly. "Maybe I just didn't care enough to remember."

Sara closed her eyes for a second. The sound of the rain pounded in her ears. She was surrounded by the musk of their sex. The taste of his skin was still on her tongue. She was full of him, even though they were no longer joined.

In that moment, she wanted to be pregnant so badly that the very center of her body ached. She wanted to carry part of Grissom inside of her, so that even if he had to go back to Vegas and she had to stay in San Francisco, they'd never really be apart again.

The rain stopped as they made love once more, this time between the freshly washed sheets on her bed. He stayed for two days and they never opened the box of condoms.

He left the same way he'd arrived, in a cab. As the driver took his bag to the car, Grissom gave her a long, slow kiss.

"When you know either way, call me."

Sara wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to let him go just yet. They stood on the stoop, holding each other until the cabbie not-so-gently cleared his throat.

Unable to stall any longer, Grissom kissed her again, a short, sweet parting gift.

"I love you, too," she said as he pulled away. She held his hand until he was out of her reach and her fingers hung, suspended in mid-air. The cab took off a minute later and all she could do was wave goodbye.

She fell asleep that night, holding her flat belly, the scent of him imprinted on her pillows.

Fin