Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Ah, welcome back to the mad, post-episode writing rush. How I've missed it. I hope you enjoy. And here's to making it through these past few months. I think we all deserve a pat on the back.

The List

by Kristen Elizabeth

Gratitude changes the pangs of memory into a tranquil joy. – Dietrich Bonhoeffer

The list was almost illegible, even to Sara herself. But with all the pain medications fogging her mind, and the fact that even her good arm wasn't all that great, she was lucky to be able to write at all.

Grissom had been surprised by her request for pen and paper. She'd just started eating solid foods, twenty-four hours after she'd been airlifted out of the desert, and she was demanding writing supplies rather than Jello or more Percoset.

But she had to get the names down before she lost them. It was such a small thing, but so incredibly important to her.

He delivered a ballpoint pen and notepad without question, and even left the room on the pretense of getting coffee when she silently asked him to. It was like her kidnapping had brought them to new plane of communication, where all they needed was their eyes in order to have entire conversations.

When he was gone, she grasped the pen as best she could. The letters were shaky, deformed and unevenly proportioned, but she kept making them, one after the other as the page slowly filled up.

1. Paramedic

Justin Field was just sitting down to dinner with his family when there was a knock on the front door. His five year-old daughter, Amy, immediately scrambled down from her chair, eager to escape the peas on her plate.

He chased after her before she could answer it, making a mental note to have another talk with her about how not everyone who came to their doorstep was to be automatically trusted.

"Can I help you?" he asked the vaguely familiar woman who stood on the stoop.

"Hi," she began with a nervous smile. "Am I catching you at a bad time?"

"Not at all." Amy clung to his leg, suddenly shy. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?" Justin asked, trying not to sound impatient. But his dinner was growing cold and he didn't have much time with his family before he was back on duty.

The woman shook her head. "Not really. My name is Sara Sidle. The last time you saw me, you helped carry me out of…"

"The desert. Yeah." He nodded, suddenly making the connection to the name. "I remember." His medic's eye gave her a quick evaluation. "You look a lot better now."

"I am," was her soft reply. She indicated the cast on her arm as she added, "Getting there, at least."

Amy chose that moment to interrupt. "I lost a tooth today," she announced to their visitor. "Are you the tooth fairy?"

Sara Sidle smiled. "No, I'm not. I'm someone your daddy helped. I just came by to thank him."

"You're welcome," Justin said quietly. "Take care of yourself."

With a nod in reply, the woman turned and started back to her car. After closing the door, Justin picked Amy up and carried her back to the dinner table.

"Everything okay?" his wife asked with a puzzled look.

"Yeah." He looked back and forth between her and Amy. "Do you want to say grace or should I?"

2. Sofia

"No, I want the beef, not the pork. Yeah, the single serving. And please don't forget the hot sauce. Lots of it." Balancing her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder, Sofia dug in her purse for her car keys. "Ten minutes," she repeated back to the girl. "Thanks."

Just as she closed up her phone, she heard her name from a few yards away across the parking lot.

Startled, but not enough to draw her weapon, she turned to see Sara walking towards her, still limping slightly.

"On your way home?" Sara asked.

"By way of the Thai place down the street." Sofia located her keys and pulled them out. "Are you on tonight?"

"Only for a few hours."

There was an awkward pause that stretched far too long for Sofia's liking. She couldn't ever remember Sara initiating a conversation with her that didn't have to do with work, and now she knew why. She wasn't at all good at it.

"Well…take it easy, Sara. See you…"

"Thank you," Sara blurted out, cutting her off. "For finding me out there."

Sofia gave a slight shake of her head after a second. "I didn't. Nick's the one who…"

Again, she was interrupted. "I need to thank you."

They held their stare, neither one of them blinking until finally Sofia got it. "You're welcome, Sara."

With her shoulders visibly relaxed, her colleague started off. But whatever had come over her, she'd spread to Sofia. She found herself calling out, "Hey Sara!" When the woman looked back, she continued in a purging rush, "You know that Grissom and I never…"

"I know. But he told me you tried."

She smiled weakly. "Can you blame me?"

After thinking about it for a second, Sara lifted her good shoulder. "Not really."

Sofia watched her limp all the way to the front doors before she blinked and stuck her key in the car door.

3. Hodges

He'd just taken a huge bite of his sandwich when Sara appeared in the break room door.

"Hodges, I want to thank you," she said quickly and evenly. "You found the bleach pattern which led to Natalie, and if we hadn't known who she was, I might not be here right now."

With wide eyes, he replied around a mouthful of bread and peanut butter. "Yoah wewcome."

She made a move to go, but thought better of it. "Grissom's grateful, too."

He couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

4. Greg

5. Warrick

It was Greg's turn to ride shotgun and Warrick's turn to drive, which left Sara in the backseat. Greg wasn't crazy about that; he would have preferred to give her the best spot in the car. But Warrick was very clear about not treating Sara any differently than they would have before.

They were driving along Blue Diamond Road on their way to a scene, with Warrick's rhythm and blues sliding out of the speakers at an impressive volume.

Greg was almost into the music when he felt Sara's arm stretch past him, reaching for the controls. The music disappeared suddenly.

"Hey," Warrick protested. "No backseat audio input. Driver's choice."

Sara leaned forward between their seats as much as she could. "I've seen both of you work incredibly hard to find other people who are missing. And I know you did the same for me." Her words wobbled. "Thank you. So much."

Greg glanced at Warrick. His Adam's apple was bobbing too much for him to say anything.

"You're welcome, Sara." Greg stuck his hand back and waited for her to grasp it, which she did after a few seconds. "But you're still in the back on the way home."

He heard a sniff then a chuckle. "Well." She pulled her hand away and settled into the darkness again. "It is my turn."

6. Catherine

She saw Sara's car in her driveway as she pulled up to the house. The woman who owned it was leaning against the driver's side door, looking up at the sky.

Parking beside her, Catherine turned off the engine and looked at Lindsey. "Will you start carrying in the groceries, baby?"

"You had me just for child labor," Lindsey grumbled, unbuckling her seat belt. But she reached for a few of the bags.

Catherine stepped down out of the SUV. "Sara?"

When she spoke, Sara spoke to the sun. "You know, I'm a lot more comfortable with the heat now. Before…it was like I'd step outside and groan if it was over 90 degrees. Now it's like 115…" A smile flickered across her face. "Bring it on."

"How long have you been waiting out here?"

Sara shook her head. "Not long. I was about to go." Finally, she dropped her chin. Lifting up her glasses, Catherine could see her eyes, red-rimmed, but dry. "Let me start by telling you something I should have a long time ago." She paused. "I'm sorry I never put Eddie's killer behind bars."

Hearing his name, even now, made Catherine's stomach twist. "Sara…" She sighed. "You did your best. Which is pretty damn good. And I should have told you that a long time ago."

"I also want to thank you," Sara continued after a minute. "For being with him during all of it. He told me you kept him calm."

Catherine looked down the driveway. "I think I learned more about Gil Grissom that day than in all the years I've known him." She looked up. "He loves you, you know." When Sara said nothing, like she was waiting for something, Catherine nodded. "You're welcome. And…" She tried to smile. "Thank you for living. If you'd died…he would have broken."

Sara lowered her sunglasses back into place. "I'll see you at work."

Catherine stepped onto the grass, allowing Sara to back her car down the driveway. She was still standing there, watching her drive away when she heard Lindsey's voice.

"Mom! How mad would you be if I told you the eggs fell out of the bag?"

7. Brass

The Yankees were up to bat when the doorbell rang. Brass muttered under his breath all the way to the door, and didn't even bother checking to see who was disturbing the game before he pulled it open.

When he saw Sara, he suddenly wished he'd at least put something on over his undershirt.

But she didn't seem to notice or care. Without a word of greeting, she stepped forward and put her arms around him in a slightly awkward, but clearly heart-felt hug.

She drew back and kissed his cheek, and for a half a second, he envied Gil Grissom like he'd never envied another man before.

"Thank you," Sara said with the faintest traces of a smile. "For everything you did to find me."

Brass cleared his throat. "You're welcome, cookie."

"Cookie?" she asked, her forehead crinkling a bit.

"Not so much?"

Her smile was stronger as she turned to go. "I could get used to it."

When he looked back at the TV, the Yankees had pulled off a triple.

8. Nick

He was supposed to be attending the autopsy of the water skier who'd gotten hit by another boat in Lake Mead, so Nick was fairly surprised to walk into the autopsy room and find Sara standing over an empty metal table.

"Hey." She turned her head. "Are you here for the Collins autopsy, too?" he asked.

"No. I think that's down the hall." Something glistened on her cheek, but it was gone a second later when she swiped her hand under her eye. "I was just…" She gave up finishing the sentence after a second. "I don't know what I'm doing."

Nick approached her carefully. "I think I know." She looked at him expectantly. "I had a lot of stuff going through my head when I was underground. And the biggest thing was picturing myself lying here with Doc Robbins pulling out my insides."

"I didn't let myself think I was going to die," Sara said sharply. Her hard tone quickly crumbled. "At least…until the very last moment. I don't remember much after that."

Judging from the broken state in which he'd found her, Nick considered her memory loss a blessing in disguise.

"But even though I don't remember it…I know what happened." She gripped the edge of the autopsy table with both hands, unencumbered now by the cast she'd worn ever since that day. "I know what you did for me."

"Sara…"

"You saved my life, Nick." She shook her head back and forth erratically. "That's not something I…how could I ever tell you…" Her breath came in huge gulps, like she couldn't get enough into her lungs. Tears spilled down her face in steady rivers. "I don't know how to thank you."

His voice was hoarse as he replied, "It wasn't your day to die, sweetheart."

The next thing he knew, she was sobbing against his shoulder. He folded his arms around her and stroked the back of her head until her breathing began to even, repeating over and over again, "You're welcome. You're so welcome."

9. Gil

Grissom was in bed with Shakespeare when Sara got out of the shower. He'd been reading his way through the comedies in the weeks since her kidnapping, needing the bawdy humor, the mistaken identities, the happy conclusions.

In nothing but a towel, she walked to her side of the bed and suddenly stopped. He lowered his book. "Honey? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She paused for a second as if to confirm this with herself. "Absolutely nothing. I'm just fine."

Grissom removed his glasses and opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off by suddenly climbing on top of him. The movement was too much for her towel; it fell away revealing miles of deliciously bare skin, only marred here and there by a lingering discolored patch where a bruise was still healing.

She kissed him hard and hot, desperate to taste his entire mouth. He quickly realized this was Sara's show, as she pushed down the covers and reached for him. He would just be along for the ride…although it would be one hell of a trip. It always was with her.

She came first and her tears followed. Sara clung to him through his own release and by the time he'd regained his breath, she'd spent herself, and was as soft and pliant as a rag doll.

They ended up lying face to face, with Sara cuddled in the crook of his arm. This time, she let him kiss her, slowly and thoroughly.

When he drew back, she whispered, "Thank you."

Grissom shook his head. "No, honey." He stroked her cheek with a single finger. "Thank you."

Fin