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Sara Sidle was not happy. It has been a long, frustrating shift. All she wanted was to get back to the lab, clock out, and go home to her apartment.

She had spent the whole night with Gil Grissom, processing a drug house on the outskirts of Mesquite - Mesquite, for God's sake. It seemed that there were enough students from nearby Utah State University in Saint George to support the growth industry of drug sales here. She and Grissom had been called in to process the scene of a double homicide; and it had been nothing, if not tedious. After four hours crawling around on her hands and knees in a dirty house that ought to be condemned, they were finally on their way back to Las Vegas. Unfortunately the weather was not co-operating.

Driving rain was making it difficult to see the dirt road in the dim, pre-dawn light, even though Sara had the wipers set to their highest setting. Flashes of lightning were getting both closer and more frequent. She could tell that Grissom was uncomfortable with her driving by the way he kept shifting in his seat and the occasional stab for a brake pedal that wasn't there, but she really didn't care. She just wanted to get home and be done with the day.

When it started to hail, Sara slowed to a crawl, leaned forward to peer out the windshield and swore vehemently under her breath.

"Jesus Christ, Sara, would you just pull over." Grissom was using his authoritative supervisor's voice. "We can wait for it to blow through. You can't see well enough to drive in this."

Grudgingly, she stopped at a wide spot in the road and blew out an angry breath. Turning on the hazard lights, she switched off the ignition and watched hail bounce off the hood of the SUV.

Grissom turned in his seat to look at her before speaking. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" When she just stared out the windshield, hands still clenching the steering wheel in a death grip, he tilted his head to the side and continued, "Sara, you've been angry all shift. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you. Maybe I can help."

Sara dropped her forehead to the steering wheel and took a deep, shuddering breath before dropping her hands to her lap and turning to look at Grissom in the murky light.

"You don't really want to know, Gris. It's messy…it's life. It's my life. You don't want to be any part of that. You've made that abundantly clear." She stared at him defiantly.

Grissom raised his hand, as if to reach out and comfort her, before dropping it uselessly to his side. "Sara…please. Tell me what's wrong."

Turning forward to stare out the windshield, unable to look at him while she spoke, Sara said, "I had a message on my answering machine when I got home from work this morning. It was my doctor. I had some tests done and he wants to talk to me about some of the results." She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. "I called his office, but he was with a patient. He hasn't gotten back to me yet. It's now been," opening her eyes she glanced at her watch, "twenty hours. It's been grating on me a little bit, I'm sorry if I've made you…uncomfortable."

Bowing his head, Grissom rubbed his face before asking quietly, "Jesus, Sara, what is it? What were the tests for?"

"That's the problem. I don't know. I had a blood draw, a mammogram, and a pap test," she said quietly, her voice starting to quaver. "Cancer is, of course the first thing that popped into my head, since that's what they're checking for."

Reaching over to take one of her icy hands, Grissom asked, "Honey, is there anything I can do to help?"

Sara yanked her hand away and turned to look at him, eyes fierce. "Is this what it takes?" she asked angrily. "If it's serious, if I'm really sick, you'll come out from behind that wall of propriety you always hide behind? And, what…I'm supposed to just forget about all those years you jerked me around?" She turned away, leaning her aching forehead against the cold glass of the window before continuing in a more subdued tone, "If I'm really sick…would I be worth risking your job over then? Worth coming out from behind that placard on your desk that says 'Supervisor'?" She spat out his title like it had a bad taste.

Grissom closed his eyes against the assault. He knew he'd treated her poorly in the past, but he hadn't realized just how bitter she was because of it. He didn't understand why this had to be so hard.

He couldn't think of Sara not being part of his life - at least at work if nowhere else. After staring out at the damp dessert for several minutes without really seeing it, he leaned his head back against the headrest. It felt as if everything was closing in on him, like he was trapped. The thought of Sara not being there was like acid in his gut; he felt physically ill. Still, he'd never had a truly successful romantic relationship and he'd begun to think he was incapable. Now the old maxim 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't' was proving itself to be true.

Taking a deep breath to steady his resolve, Grissom leaned over and touched her shoulder. "Sara, I'm sorry. I've struggled with this, with us, ever since I've known you. I never thought about how it hurt you." He shook his head and frowned in concentration. "I've kept you at arms length because I'm afraid. Not of losing my job; I'm not worried about that." He paused, marshalling his swirling thoughts. "I'm afraid of losing you, and consequently of losing me." He turned to face forward again, hunching over and resting his forearms on his knees, clutching his hands together as if praying - or trying to make a difficult decision. 'Sara, I've always been afraid that if I let myself be with you, I'd disappear into you. And when you were done with me, when you've had enough and leave, I'd have nothing left."

Sara could feel the adrenaline high begin to ebb, leaving her tired, depressed, empty. It didn't seem fair. She had friends whose lives actually seemed to just fall into place - no worries, no trials, no dramas - while everything in her life seemed to be a struggle. Things were never straightforward or easy.

Shaking off the apathy that was replacing her rage, Sara turned from the window to look at him. In the increasing light of dawn she could see he had tears in his eyes. "Grissom…" This time Sara reached out, laying her hand on his. "You don't have to worry about that. I don't think I'll ever be done with you." She ducked her head, trying to get a better look at his face. "If it were that easy I'd have left here years ago. Believe me, I've written my resignation and packed my bags more than once."

Grissom unclasped his hands, letting hers slip between them. "Sara, it'd be difficult. You know it's not just about us and how we deal with things. There are potential ramifications at work. If we let this happen between you and I and the lab finds out, one of us might have to change shifts." Sitting up straight, he shifted to face her, holding her hand more tightly in his. "Sara, this could even ruin your professional reputation. They could say you got your position by sleeping with your boss. Have you thought about any of the problems this could cause for you?"

Smiling softly she said, "No one would have to know. I'm pretty good at keeping secrets Gris. It took seven years for you to find out the truth about my parents, and you're a trained investigator."

"True. And nobody really knows anything about my life away from the lab. I'd say I'm pretty good at keeping secrets myself." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. "Maybe…maybe we could make it work."

Grissom lifted her hand to his chest, clutching it tightly for a moment before he raised it to his mouth to kiss her palm and release it. He looked out the window at the sunrise that was starting to break through the clouds. "The weather's clearing. Why don't you let me drive back; maybe you can catch a little sleep."

Sara nodded and opened the driver's door. She felt like she was sleepwalking as she made her way through the mud to the passenger side and stepped up into the Denali. She wasn't really sure what had just happened.

Reaching the highway and turning west, Grissom wondered if what had happened was real; and if it was, could they make it work. Glancing at Sara he was glad to see she had nodded off. It should take just over an hour to get back to the stop and go traffic of Las Vegas and he knew she could use the rest.

While Sara slept, Grissom contemplated the future. It would be hard. He knew he was set in his ways after being alone for so many years. They also needed to work around their schedules at the lab and the possibility of a health problem for Sara. Feeling a huge lump in his chest, Grissom glanced over to look at her. All of the worry lines were erased and she looked peaceful.

The desert gave way to meager homes, businesses, and warehouses; the sparse buildings coalescing into suburbs as they continued towards Las Vegas. Grissom could see the sun reflecting off the strip casinos as they approached the city. He slowed as more commuters crowded the highway.

Sara awoke with a start as the Denali stopped suddenly in the rush hour traffic. Stretching, she looked shyly at Grissom. She wondered if it had all been a dream.

Grissom reached over to take her hand tightly in his. "Honey? Do you want me to take you home or to your doctor's office?" He glanced in the rearview mirror to change lanes before turning back to look at her. "I want you to talk to your doctor right away. You shouldn't have to worry like this. We shouldn't have to worry."

Sara felt a fluttering in her chest. Whatever came next, maybe, just maybe she wouldn't have to face it alone.

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