A/N: Spoilers for season 10.

This story is written by Robyn (FanficAddiction) and Eva (SaraStar). During Eva's trip to California the two of us met up and felt Sandle nostalgic. With season five of CSI playing in the background we wrote this story together. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did writing it.

Aurum

Six months, three weeks, ten days.

That's how long Greg hadn't seen her. Hadn't looked into her dark brown eyes, hadn't watched her elegant way of walking and hadn't felt butterflies fly through his stomach when she gave him her gap-tooth smile.

He missed her. Although he knew that he shouldn't, that he should forget about her and move on, his heart betrayed him. Secretly it still wished her leaving was only temporary. But it wasn't.

His mind drifted away to the last time he saw her. It hadn't been a happy reunion. A co-worker's death and funeral weren't exactly the circumstances under which he had imagined to see her again. But nevertheless, having her around again made him feel great.

Greg took another bite of his lunch. His tuna sandwich seemed extra bland that day – too much mayo, not enough onion. The chips were stale and the iced tea was warm. For all intents and purposes, it was just another exciting day in the break room of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Nobody else was in the room, not even that weird new lab technician who only ate gummy worms for lunch. So he sat in silence, eating his same old boring lunch, wondering when something new, anything new, would happen.

That's when he took a sip of iced tea, looked up to find his once and future love staring him straight in the eye, and choked. Not exactly the most graceful way to say, "Welcome back, where have you been for six months, three weeks and ten days, and oh by the way, I've been in love with you for almost a decade now."

She laughed at his surprise, that same smile plastered on her face. He missed that more than anything else about her.

"Maybe I should have called first," she said, and began walking toward him, arms outstretched in anticipation of a hug.

And he wanted that hug; had thought about that hug for quite awhile now, what he would say when he saw her again; all the things he meant to tell her and never got the chance. But in that moment, an unexpected emotion popped up. Greg Sanders, once totally and madly in love with Sara Sidle, felt angry. Betrayed, even. Perhaps he was angrier with himself for missing her than at her for leaving, but he was upset nonetheless. No calls, no letters, not even a goodbye. Reconciliation now seemed far away now. But still, he'd try.

Just the fact that she came back meant she read his letter at all, and that had to count for something. Even if she was coming back due to understaffing, and not to fix his broken heart or apologize for breaking it, it was better than nothing at all.

He met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her. They stood that way for nearly half a minute, neither speaking. He could smell her shampoo – it was different now. It wasn't coconut anymore. So many things had changed, he supposed the image he had of her in his mind was the one thing that didn't.

" I don't know that Sidle scent…" he heard himself mumble.

" What?" Sara broke away from the hug and looked at him, halfly amused, halfly confused.

"Uh, nothing, never mind." He hadn't meant to say those words out loud, but then again he hadn't meant to choke on his iced tea the first time he saw her again either. Sara's unexpected presence would do that to him.

" H-How have you been?"

" Great, I'm great," Sara said, still with that hypnotizing smile of hers, " I mean, I missed you all, of course…"

But? Something was supposed to follow that sentence. I missed you, but I'm happy not to live here anymore? I missed you, but Las Vegas is truly the last place I want to be right now?

Greg didn't know. But he did see that Sara looked happier than he had ever seen her in all those years they worked together. And although he wanted her to be happy, a happy Sara was what usually made him happy, deep down he wished she had realized she had made a terrible mistake by leaving the Las Vegas Crime Lab and was dying to come back.

" I know, I… we missed you too, very much. Lab's not the same without you."

She smiled. "Oh, well I'm sure you guys are doing okay. I just wanted to see if I could help out. I… got your letter."

They stared at each other for a while, none of them saying a word, until Catherine's surprised voice rescued the two of them out of what could have been a very uncomfortable silence.

" Sara! What are you doing here?!"

Greg watched the two women hug, realizing to his small delight that their hug didn't last as long as him and Sara's, and wasn't quite as well-meant from both sides.

"Greg contacted me, told me that you guys have been short-staffed around here for awhile now. So I thought I'd come back, just for a few months, to help out."

Catherine looked at the both of them as the room fell silent again; assessing their awkward facial expressions, wondering just what that letter had contained or why Greg didn't tell any of the rest of them that he'd written it.

She shoved her hands in her pockets. "Well, I'm gonna go. You two probably have a lot of catching up to do." As she began to walk away, she added, "Oh, and there's that impounded car from the Murphy case, the trunk needs processing."

As Catherine left, Sara and Greg exchanged another awkward look, followed by them both trying to speak at the same time.

"So-"

"Uh, you-"

Greg laughed nervously. "You go."

"Well, I was going to ask you if you wanna get a jumpstart on that car and I'll meet you in the garage in ten? I just have to get changed."

He nodded. "Sure, sure."

Roughly ten minutes later, the both of them were staring down into a trunk full of nasty green goo. Apparently the owner had left the car out in the desert for a week while he went on vacation, not knowing that there was a body in the trunk.

"Seems like old times…" Sara remarked, her breath fogging up the plastic shield in front of her face.

"Yeah, except this time, I'm not going to be having human soup for lunch."

That made her giggle in a way that he hadn't heard before, so pure and unabashed. He wondered when she started laughing that way, bearing her teeth and shaking her head. She used to just smirk, brushing off his jokes.

Sara stuck her hand into the hot vat of goo, recoiling as she hit something sharp. She pulled her arm out immediately, but her big, black rubber glove stuck to the sharp object and her hand came out without it.

"Are you okay?" He was at her side in a split-second, examining her hand.

She didn't want to say what was coming next, and he didn't want to hear it. But out it came, and once it did, it hung there, suffocating him in a way that he remembered all too vividly.

"I… my ring came off with it."

He just stared at her, unable to move. "Your… ring?" he said, finally finding his voice.

He was about to ask her why she wore a ring to work, but the answer to that question was hanging so clearly in the air that he couldn't pretend he didn't know what was going on.

And anyway, she didn't leave him much room to be in denial, for she nervously spoke the words that assured what Greg had already feared.

"Grissom and I… we got married."

Greg swallowed. "I… see," was all he could say.

"I-I'm sorry, that wasn't the way I wanted you to find out…" Sara continued, apologetically. She seemed almost as uncomfortable with he situation as he was… and didn't seem the least bit surprised that Greg hadn't pulled her into a bear hug, congratulated her and told her he was happy for her.

"I would've told you, but…"

Once again she didn't finish her sentence. This time Greg didn't let her get away with it.

"But what?" he said, more harshly than he had meant to.

She seemed a little taken aback. "I just… I was afraid of… I didn't want to –" She held her hands up in desperation for the right words. Greg had never experienced Sara Sidle not knowing how to say something and secretly enjoyed seeing her struggle.

"I didn't want to… hurt you in any way. We never really talked about… me and Grissom," she said finally.

Before he could respond, she added, "Let's not talk about this now. This is not the kind of conversation to have over a dead body." Her voice had gotten back its old, confident tone, but her eyes seemed to beg Greg not to go into it any further.

He gave in. "Alright… let me see if I can find it for you," he said, softly.

Greg plunged his gloved hands into the goo, careful of whatever had snagged Sara's glove in the first place. His hand hit something hard, and he pulled out a fishing pole. With a hook attached. And, stuck on the hook, was the big, black rubber glove. He turned it upside down and the gold, circular object he so dreaded seeing fell out into his palm with a soft, sickening thud. As if to say, here it is, everything you never hoped for, everything you ever feared. Here it is, in the palm of your hand.

She thanked him, and as she reached over to pick it up, he grabbed her hand.

With a crushing pressure in his chest and a stinging in his throat, he placed the ring on her finger.

Both of him silent, he recounted memories of old daydreams, of all the times he imagined this moment.

None of them played out like this.

Sara put her glove back on, and they went about draining the trunk. Neither spoke for quite awhile.

She wondered why she felt such a tingling in her chest, hearing blood rush in her ears when he placed that ring on her finger. Knowing he had a crush on her for so long had made her aware of those tiny, sneaking inklings she felt throughout the years, but she'd never felt as terrified or exhilarated than the moment he slid that ring onto her finger.

Trying to keep her mind on the goo-covered evidence, she felt the ring burn into her skin, itching and irritating her. Psychologically, she knew it was just a circular piece of metal. But way down, deep down, she felt just the tiniest bit suffocated.

It was going to be a long couple of months.