A/N. So, I reused the very last line froma CI fic of mine, but it's all good, since it's mine, so I don't think it counts as plagarism and it works perfectly for both, in completely different ways. Anyway, this is a slightly oldfic set after the team broke-up. Bear in mind that at that time I hadn't seen a lot of the new episodes at the time, so some stuff may not be canon or directly in line with characters' feelings, or I may've missed things, but I did my best, and I think that I did it pretty well. On with the fic. CSI isn't mine.

--------------------------

He found her in a greasy spoon off of Canal. She didn't look up when he came in, or even register his presence, didn't take her eyes off of the coffee cup in front of her until he slid into the booth next to her.

"I guarantee you'll lose."

She finally looked at him. "What?"

"When engaged in a staring contest, the inanimate object pretty much always wins."

She smiled, but it wasn't real. It didn't reach her eyes, was just the kind of smile one gives to placate someone trying to cheer them up. They sat in silence for a moment. Grissom sighed. "You want to talk about it?"

"No. I don't. I want to go back to the lab and beat Ecklie senseless."

He chuckled. "Don't we all?"

She faced him, her expression almost angry. "How can you laugh about this? He split us up, Grissom, and not even for any good reason. Because we weren't willing to play office politics. Because we wouldn't submit to him. Where's the fairness in that? We were pulling in more collars than day and swing shift combined, so don't tell me that we weren't working well together. How can he pull that crap on us, and just, just break what we've had for five years in five seconds?"

Grissom folded his fingers into a steeple. "Sara, Conrad Ecklie… he's a controlling person. He didn't like that we were all so close. He wanted the rules followed, to the T. And you know as well as I do that that isn't always possible when you do the kind of work that we do. He used that as the wedge that tore us apart."

She put her head into her hands. "Why is he doing this to us? It's so… so petty and useless. Do you really think that this is for the best?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe that's the point."

Shaking her head, she mumbled, "I really don't have the energy to peel apart that onion of a brain of yours right now."

He raised an eyebrow silently. A sad smile tugged at the edges of her mouth. "Layers," she explained.

He removed his glasses, placing them carefully on the table. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, Sara."

"I can't… I can't stop thinking about them. We weren't just colleagues, Grissom, we were closer than that. It hurt that he broke us up. It hurts that I've lost the closest thing that I have to friends." She looked out the window, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears. "I miss passing Warrick in the hall, I miss Nick's jokes, and I miss watching Catherine poke fun at Greg. I spent five years of my life with these people. I saw them every day. And not having them there..."

Grissom was silent, his brow furrowed into a worried expression. Sara looked straight at him, met his eyes brazenly.

"And you know what hurts the most? I called Nick the other night. All he could say was, 'Hi, Sara, how's it going?' I passed Warrick on the street last Tuesday. It was like he barely even knew me. What do we have to talk about now? I mean, it's not like any of us would be friends under different circumstances. We were brought together by our work. Without it, we have no common factors. And I'm afraid that… that I've lost my only friends." The tears ran down her cheeks, leaving gleaming trails in their wake.

He reached out and brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears. Her eyes filled again, and she leaned forward into his chest, the tears flowing freely. All he could do was tighten his arms around her and hold her close to him. He stroked her hair, rubbed his hands across her back, murmured meaningless comforts into her ear. She made a little keening noise against him, and it goddamn near broke his heart.

"I feel so empty, Grissom. So cold. I miss them so much."

"I know. Me too." He brushed a kiss over her forehead. She rested her head against his shoulder, sighing lightly as her tears started to slow, then stopped entirely.

"It's just the two of us, now."

"And Greg, and Sophia," he corrected.

"No. They're time is just beginning. Ours is ending. It was the end of an era, when we were broken apart."

And somehow he knew exactly what she was talking about, and understood.

"Life goes on, but it's never quite the same."

She gave a last sniffle before sitting back up. She brushed her hair back behind her ears and wiped her face with the napkin beside her untouched coffee. She offered a weak smile. "Don't tell Greg I was crying, okay?"

He just nodded, a tired smile on his face. "Okay."

She pulled out a few dollars and set them on the table.

Grissom offered her his hand. "Are you ready?"

Sara shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever be ready." But she took his hand in hers, and he helped to pull her to her feet, and steadied her when she wobbled a fraction of an inch.

"Well, that's why I'm here."

She gave his hand a last squeeze. "Thank you. For everything."

"You don't owe me thanks, Sara."

"What do I owe you, then?"

"Nothing, Sara. You owe me nothing."

She shook her head with the hint of a smile, and let him lead her out into the sun.