Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: I can't thank tcdarcy7 and mingsmommy enough for reading over this story. I was, and still am a litle, very nervous about it, as it's definitely not my usual fare. But after the finale ended, this is what came out. Please take it with a grain of salt. I hope you find it mildly enjoyable at least;) Take care until next time.


The Difference of a Day

by Kristen Elizabeth


Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment, because it will never come again. – Star Trek "Generations"
"Anything yet?"

"It's only been four minutes." Sara scowled at the man pacing in front of her. "You're making this a lot more nerve wracking than it has to be."

He stopped in front of her with a bewildered look. "You're not nervous?"

"Of course I am. And you're not helping."

Grissom grabbed the box and studied the back. "I just can't believe our future hinges on the appearance of one blue line."

"I can't believe I just peed on a stick," Sara complained. "I feel like I'm back in college."

He ignored this in favor of watching the seconds count down on the clock they'd set. When the last one passed, Grissom looked back at her. "Anything now?"

Sara examined the device for a moment before holding it up to him. The display area was as blank as it had been when they'd taken it out.

Their eyes met. Grissom broke the stare, glancing away as he rubbed the heel of his hand over his heart. He couldn't figure out why it suddenly felt three sizes smaller.

"We should get ready for work," Sara said softly.

The last thing he saw before he left the room was her tossing the testing stick into the wastebasket, fighting what he hoped was her own disappointment.


"Have you got anything yet?"

Hodges gave a curt shake of his head at the woman lingering in the doorway.

"Nothing?" Wendy stepped inside like she was entering a hostile country. "What about the…"

"Sand is partially composed of ground sea shells. Unless you know something about Nevada desert mineralogy and geography that I don't, it's highly unlikely the killer used sand from the actual crime scene in the model." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. "It's probably something she bought in a bag from the craft store. Nothing that can help us."

Wendy shook her head. "I just can't believe this is happening."

"Again," Hodges added. "You weren't here two years ago." He lowered his voice, as if revealing a great secret. "We might not get much glory here in the lab, but we also don't wind up in mortal danger quite as often."

"Sara didn't do anything to deserve this," she said firmly. "If you're saying that she did…"

"I'm not." The urgency with which he said this made her blink several times. "I'm really not."

Wendy's frown softened a bit. "Hodges…is that your heart I see growing three sizes larger?"

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "I've got work to do."

The last thing she saw before she left was him putting his glasses back on, preparing to go over the miniature model again.


"Could you do it, Sara?"

"Why are you making me even think about this?"

Grissom frowned. "Because you should know by now that life is unpredictable. And often cruel. And it's better to be prepared than to be faced with an impossible decision."

"Can you get why this might be hard for me? Imagining a time when I'd have to decide if you lived or died…" She stared at him for a second before she rolled over onto her other side, turning her back to him.

"I don't want machines," he said quietly.

Her eyes closed. "Stop."

"When it's my time, it's my time."

"Please…"

Grissom sighed. "I just want to know that you wouldn't hold onto me past the point of any hope."

"Fine! I'll pull the plug. Is that what you want to hear?" Before he could answer, Sara threw off the covers. "I can't be here right now."

He watched her pull on her sneakers and a hooded sweatshirt. Calling to the dog who was curled at the foot of the bed, Sara started for the door.

She turned back at the last second. "If the time ever comes, I'll do this one thing for you. But I'll hate it. And I'll hate you a little bit for making me do it. It's your choice." She paused. "Just don't go quietly. Promise me you'll fight first."

"For you, I would."


"Could you do it, Dr. Robbins?"

"It's not a good idea to even think like this." The sharp tone in the otherwise calm man gave away his anxiety.

Dave shook his head. "I won't be able to, sir. If she comes here…" He looked around the cold, blue room. "No. Not Sara."

"I refuse to prepare myself for an autopsy before I know there's a body," was the authoritative reply he received.

"I'm just telling you now," the junior coroner said, firm in his own way. "I won't cut into her."

Doc Robbins leaned on his cane and pointed a finger at him. "She would process your murder scene."

A shadow fell over Dave's face. "She would," he echoed. "But this is different."

"If it's her time, we'll do this one last thing for her," the older man decided. "We can hate it, and we can hate whoever's responsible for it, but ultimately we don't get to choose who ends up here." He stopped, needing a breath to go on. "She'll put up a fight, though. She won't go quietly."

"She never would."


"I think you made a good choice, Sara."

She nodded in agreement. "It's cute and sporty."

"And a hybrid. Just like the last one." Grissom smirked. "Save the Earth Sidle."

"I pollute the ozone enough driving the Denalis around town. At least on my off hours I can be nice to Mother Nature." Sara opened up the driver's side door, leaned and took a deep breath. "New car smell," she said a moment later, with a blissful smile. "It's everything it's cracked up to be."

"Your first new car is something to celebrate," Grissom said, letting his hands span her waist. He gently urged her to turn around until she was facing him. The curious look on her face was quickly replaced with a smile when he dipped his head and kissed her.

She tugged at the top button of his shirt. "Join me inside?"

He nodded fervently as she planted her own kiss on his lips. "I love the back seat."


"She was so proud of this thing." Nick ran his hand around the steering wheel. "Couldn't get her to shut up about how energy efficient it is."

In the passenger's seat, Greg let out a frustrated groan. "I'm not finding anything! No fingerprints, no trace. Damn it, Sara!" He hit the dash with his gloved fist. "Did you always have to be so fucking clean?!"

"Hey." Nick's tone was one of gentle warning. "Don't go using the past tense." He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing. "This isn't Sara's day to die."

They sat in eerily silence until Greg couldn't take it anymore. "I'm getting the ALS," he announced climbing out of the car.

Nick stared into space as Greg slid on his glasses and switched on the black light. He worked methodically until he reached the backseat.

"Oh," Nick heard him whisper.

Twisting around to see behind the driver's seat, Nick asked, "What? You find blood?"

"No." Greg cleared his throat. "Not blood."

"Well," Nick said after taking a look. "I guess she loves him back."


"I think Catherine knows."

Spitting toothpaste foam into the sink, Grissom frowned. "Knows…about us?" Seated on the bathroom counter, Sara nodded. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

She lifted her shoulder. "Little clues. Not-so-subtle torture. The usual."

"Torture?"

"It's not worth getting into. Let's just say that my anger management sessions with my PEAP counselor have paid off."

He pulled out a length of mint-flavored floss. "I can tell, honey. I'm not sleeping on the couch tonight, after all."

"Is that where you slept at Heather's?" It was an awkward, heavy moment until Sara gave him a small smile. Grissom's stomach relaxed. "I'm glad you're home," she added a second later.

Grissom paused with the ends of the floss wrapped around his index fingers. "You are my home. And there's no place I'd rather be."


"I didn't know." Catherine covered her mouth with her hand until she regained control over her voice. "How come I didn't see it?"

A few feet away, Warrick scanned the dark corners of the parking garage with his flashlight. "We saw what they wanted us to see."

"What did they think we'd do if we knew?" she asked. "Out them to Ecklie? They didn't trust us, Warrick. Doesn't that bother you?"

"What bothers me is that I'm not finding a damn thing." Catherine jumped as Warrick sent the flashlight flying towards the wall.

She stood and approached him cautiously. "There's always something," she reminded him.

He ran his hand down the length of his chin. "Grissom might not have trusted us before, but he's counting on us now." When she stopped an inch away from him, he put his arm around her, more for his own comfort than for hers she suspected. "We've got to find the thing that brings her home."


"You're serious?" Sara glanced up from the omelet she was fixing. "The miniature killer is a woman?"

"No one was more surprised than me," Grissom said, pouring juice into two small glasses. He paused halfway through the task. "I never even considered the possibility, you know?"

"Well, we've all been calling the killer 'he'. Statistics were on our side."

He watched as she expertly folded the eggs over the peppers, mushrooms and cheese. "Not this time."


"We're going to find her, Gil. Gil? Gil, are you listening to me?" Brass shook his shoulders with the same force he'd used on Natalie. Grissom blinked and tried to focus on his friend. "We're going to find her," he repeated.

"She won't tell me where she is," Grissom heard himself say. "Sara, Jim…"

"I know." He squeezed the man's arm. "She's going to be fine. I mean look at Nick and Greg…and me. Miraculous recoveries, all of us." His smile was forced. "Sara's got statistics on her side."

Grissom's eyes glazed over. "Maybe not this time."


"What time will you be home?"

"Late." She zipped up her jeans. "Will you miss me?"

"I'll cry myself to sleep," he promised.

She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "I know you're frustrated, baby. But you're closing in on her. I can feel it."

Lounging on the tousled sheets, Grissom lowered his chin in acknowledgement. "I'll call you if anything happens."

"I'll leave my cell on." With a quick kiss, she was gone.


The khakis she'd tried on, but discarded in favor of her jeans were draped over a chair. The bed hadn't been made; he could still see the imprint of her head on her pillow. The dog was wandering through each room, looking for her.

Grissom had lost feeling in his thumb, but he pressed his phone's send button again and again.

This is Sara Sidle. Leave a message at the tone.

"I miss you."

This is Sara Sidle. Leave a message at the tone.

"I love you."

This is Sara Sidle. Leave a message at the tone.

"Please don't leave me."


Fin