A/N: Of course we do not own these characters, just having a bit of fun. Enjoy! Keep reading, review, let us know what you think!

Being Here

Chapter 1

It always surprised him to find such darkness less than ten minutes from bright city lights, but the man knew where he was going. He had driven along the stretch of highway for years; remote because it was federal land, dark because of the surrounding foothills, and isolated because the water level of Lake Mead had dropped so much in recent years. He slowed as he came to a short straight-way and stopped in the road, listening to the surrounding silence for a minute before he stepped out of the car.

The bundle he lifted caused the man to stagger, not from its weight but from the awkwardness of having to bend into the trunk and lift it out. She could not weigh more than 115 pounds, he thought, as he managed to heft the body over his shoulder. He chuckled as he dropped the tightly wrapped body over the concrete barrier along the highway. He had used cheap plastic bags and duct tape—throwing what he did not use into two dumpsters as he drove to Lake Mead.

In the darkness, he saw the flash of pale skin as plastic was torn away by the rocks, but at this point he did not care what happened to the body. His car was clean—no blood or other trace would be found to tie him to the dead girl. His thoughts caused him to grin. His wife watched crime shows all night and half the day and he had to listen to her constant chatter about how to kill someone.

Heck, he thought, he should have killed her too.

All the other items, none of them cheap, he had enjoyed with the dead woman were scattered across town in the same way he had disposed of the trash bags and tape. Unless some investigator wanted to spend a week at the city dump, none of it would ever be found. And, if he were lucky, the body would not be found for weeks. By that time, he would have her place, which he owned, cleaned and rented to the next girl who would willingly be his fantasy partner.

He glanced over the barrier again and in the darkness, saw nothing. If he recollected correctly, this stretch of roadside was steep, overgrown with weeds, and at the dry lakebed, scrub bushes had sprouted in a low-growing carpet of thorny growth. No one would find this body for months—even years, if ever. Served the bitch right, he thought. As he drove away from his brief stop, he mumbled, "A million dollars for a whore, that's expensive."

"Are you sure?"

The doctor smiled and patted her hand. "It is a surprise, isn't it? Where's your husband?"

Sara Sidle's face broke into a wide grin. "He's at home. You're sure about this?"

"Very. Ten weeks at least, maybe twelve. Make another appointment, get your lab work done, and we'll do more testing." The woman flipped several pages in the chart. "At your age, we usually do genetic testing and amniocentesis—I recommend it so parents have as much information as possible."

Sara nodded but said nothing. She had heard all of this months ago when she and Grissom sat in this doctor's office discussing fertility and options for infertility and tests and treatments. All of which they had decided against after initial tests confirmed she was ovulating and Grissom's sperm count was within normal range—actually at the upper levels for a man his age. The doctor's advice had been "have more sex" which led to Grissom's decision to remain close to home.

"Are you going to be okay?" The doctor said as she handed several brochures to Sara. "I know you'll read everything you can, and here's a few standard 'Having a baby' kind of things."

Sara's eyes met the doctor's. "I can't believe it—I thought—I thought I was going into menopause—missed periods, feeling—not feeling right. And now I'm pregnant."

The physician leaned against the desk. "Well, there was never a reason you couldn't get pregnant—you just didn't—until now. Sometimes that's how it happens." She stretched her hand toward Sara. "Congratulations—I wish I could see your husband when you tell him!"

Driving home, Sara's mind seemed to replay the doctor's words over and over. She was pregnant—"you're pregnant"—"having a baby". She could not quite wrap her brain around those few words.

She walked into the quiet house and followed a familiar path from kitchen to the door of their home office. For several moments she watched her husband working, his head bent over a framed insect display. Months ago he suggested this small room would become a nursery, but recently, with no prospect of a baby, their talk of nursery and names had stopped. She leaned against the door frame and quietly said:

"I'm pregnant."

A few seconds passed before he lifted his head and pushed back his chair.

He frowned. "What? What did you say?" Not that his hearing had diminished, but he had been concentrating so much on his work, he was certain he had not heard her words. He rolled away from the desk. His beautiful wife appeared to be in a daze as she leaned against the doorway, the slightest smile on her face. "Say again," he said as he rolled his chair toward her.

Sara's brown eyes met his. She said "I—I'm pregnant, Gil."

A smile formed across his face; he reached for her hands. "You're pregnant? You're sure—the doctor checked everything?" His hands found hers and slowly moved along her arms. "Pregnant? I don't believe it—yes—yes, I do believe it!" He corrected himself, quickly realizing the look on her face was one of surprise at the extraordinariness of what she had said. She came willingly as he pulled her into his chair.

She had always been able to fit within his arms, sitting, standing, stretched beside him on a bed or a cot or in a tent, and today she slipped comfortably into his lap and arms.

"I think I'm in shock," she said. "I fully expected her to tell me I was going into early menopause—I really did!" She chuckled as his hand caressed her neck. "I'll be the oldest mom in first grade."

"Well," Grissom said quietly, "I'll certainly be the oldest dad at graduation." He gently touched her forehead with his lips. "You okay with this? We talked about it quite a bit then we stopped talking."

"I am—still surprised—I had decided it wasn't going to happen—not sure what to do next."

"Tell my mother," Grissom said with a chuckle. "She's always asking."

It was Sara's turn to laugh. "I see her signing to you—like I can't understand what it is she's saying." She sat up, turning to put arms around his neck, a concerned frown on her face. "But we need to wait, Gil. A lot of things can happen—a few more weeks, some testing and we'll know—you know—more." She kissed him and grinned. "You won't tell, promise?"

He made the promise in a voice as seductive as moonlight on dark water.

A/N: As you can see, we thought Mama Grissom was perfect and deserved to enter into our fanfiction! Thanks for reading-and reviews get the next chapter to you quickly!