Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: I was surprised when inspiration actually sprung from tonight's episode. I hope you enjoy this, and as always, thanks for reading and for all of your support.

Talk to Me

by Kristen Elizabeth

Life is far too important a thing to ever talk seriously about. – Oscar Wilde

As his attention was on the perplexing tox report he'd just picked up, Grissom failed to notice that his office wasn't empty when he entered it. It wasn't until he sat down at his desk and put his glasses on for better clarification of the test results that he realized Greg Sanders was sitting in front of his desk.

His heart skipped a beat in surprise, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. "Can I help you?"

"We need to talk," the younger man began in a very uncharacteristically sober tone. "About Sara."

Grissom closed up the report and took off his glasses. "I'm not going to discuss Sara with you."

"Why not?"

"Because there are subjects that are off-limits. She's one of them." Illustrating that this was his final word, Grissom gestured to the door.

But Greg didn't budge. "I'm serious."

It only took him a second of examining the younger man's face before he realized…he wasn't going anywhere until he'd spoken his piece. Reclining back in his seat, Grissom waited for him to go on.

"Have you talked to Sara lately?"

"I live with her, Greg." The reminder was less than gentle, and he didn't feel at all guilty when the boy winced ever so slightly.

He recovered quickly, and Grissom had to give him credit for it. "That doesn't mean anything," Greg scoffed. "My parents haven't had a real conversation since I moved out."

"You know, I'm very busy…"

"I think she's burning out." There was silence after his rushed declaration. Greg broke it a second later by adding a quiet, "I'm worried about her."

Suddenly far more invested in the discussion, Grissom leaned forward. "Tell me what happened."

As Greg relayed his brief, locker room conversation with Sara, Grissom felt a sudden chill all the way down to his bones. Everything Greg was telling him that Sara had said…it was everything he'd felt in the weeks before he'd fled Vegas for Williams.

When Greg was done, he folded his arms. "If you love Sara as much as you claimed to when she was kidnapped…you gotta help her."

"Sara is…" Grissom took a breath. "She's a very strong woman."

"Well, yeah. But Gris…" The younger man shook his head, as if he just wasn't getting it. "She needs someone to talk to about everything she's feeling. I got the ball rolling, but…she needs you." He lifted his shoulders weakly. "The guy she loves."

Suddenly, it was too much to even have Greg in the room. He needed space. He needed air. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. Clearing his throat, Grissom reached for his tox report again. "Thank you for coming here, Greg. I appreciate it."

He didn't have to look at the boy to notice his eyes were narrowing. "No, you don't. You just want me to go away."

"Greg."

It wasn't exactly a warning, but Greg got the message. He stood up and started to go. At the door, he paused and looked back. "I love her, too, you know. And it was okay…you and her…because I figured she was happy." He paused. "The Sara I talked to today…not happy."

Grissom looked down at his bare hands, unable to come up with anything to say.

"Make her happy again." Greg opened the door. "I would if I could."

A pair of raised voices echoed off the locker room walls as Grissom entered.

"It was a compliment." He recognized Hodges instantly and almost turned to go. But this was the last place in the building that he hadn't searched for Sara, so she was in here somewhere. And he needed to find her. "Maybe you haven't had one of those in awhile," Hodges went on. "But that's what it was. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides…you're the one who brought them up in the first place."

"I didn't bring them up! Ronnie did!" The second voice on the other side of the bank of lockers he didn't recognize right away. Female, definitely. Shrill. Angry, with perhaps a touch of embarrassment. "You have no right complimenting my breasts in front of our co-workers. In front of Sara, for god's sake. The poster woman for feminism! It was bad enough that she stopped by in time to see me get hacked in two, but…"

"By the way, that was the worst CGI I've ever seen."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying." Hodges paused. "I didn't like it."

Grissom heard a locker door shut with a bang. "Go away, David. I'm not talking to you for awhile."

He managed to slip into a corner and went unnoticed as Wendy stalked by him and out of the locker room. Hodges followed her a second later.

"Are they gone?"

Startled, Grissom turned around to see Sara emerging from her own hiding place, the shower room. She gave him a smile. An hour earlier, he would have taken it for face value. Now he could see how forced it was.

"The poster woman for feminism probably shouldn't hide in the locker room," she acknowledged, walking to him. "Have you been looking for me?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Your shift is over, honey."

"I know. I was trying to get my bag when they came in." Sara's arm brushed his as she started for her locker. "So, I was thinking about getting up early and making pancakes for breakfast. Will you be home in time?"

Grissom thought for a second while she put on her jacket. "Actually…I'm taking the night off." At her look of surprise, he forced a smile of his own. "Is that okay?"

"Sleeping in the same bed at the same time…I don't know." She slung her bag over her shoulder. "What if you've reverted back to your old cover-hog ways?"

"The cover-hog reminds you that with your feet of ice, he needs all the covers he can get." She chuckled, shaking her head as she closed up her locker. Grissom took the opportunity to come up behind her. "Sara…you'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" She didn't turn her head to see him. He tried again. "You'd let me know if you were unhappy…right?"

When she finally turned around to face him, the faraway look in her eyes didn't match her words. "We're getting married. I'm going to be your wife soon. How could I not be happy?"

The chill in his bones returned, even more painful this time. "I love you," he told her, needing to say it. Needing her to hear it. "I've always loved you, Sara."

Sara put her hand to his cheek and he could feel it tremble, so slightly that she might not have even been aware of it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Grissom blinked and took her hand away from his face, but not before he kissed the center of her palm. "Let's have those pancakes before bed. And I'll let you have your share of the covers tonight."

"No, you won't." Her arm slipped around his waist, such a graceful, intimate movement. For a second, he forgot everything Greg had told him.

Sara was alive and well and as beautiful and vivacious as ever. And soon she'd be wearing his mother's wedding ring, hopefully on her ring finger where it belonged, but if they weren't ready to announce it to the world, on a chain tucked under her shirt.

For the first time since they'd met, there was nothing keeping them apart.

He woke up somewhere around one a.m. Her side of the bed was empty and all the covers were tucked around his body. Cursing himself, Grissom got up and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts.

Sara sat in the darkened living room with Bruno curled on her feet, which were tucked up on the couch. She looked at him when he stopped right in front of her.

"Tell me I make a difference," she whispered. "Tell me…I don't do it all for nothing."

Grissom crouched down and reached for her hand. "You need proof, honey…look at me." He laced his fingers through hers. "Of all the lives you've saved, mine needed it the most."

There was enough light from the moon to make the single tear that slipped down her cheek shine. "I'm so tired of death."

"Then…" The thought came out of the blue, but felt so right. "Let's make a life."

Her eyes looked back and forth between his. "Are you serious?"

Grissom nodded and smiled, genuinely this time. "What do you say? Start a family with me?"

Sara's answer was in her kiss, and there was no more talking for the rest of the night.

Fin