Title: Second Chance

Author: Lifeguard

Rating: K+-T

Disclaimer: I own nothing! I am a poor student so please don't sue!

Spoilers: Play With Fire, Blood Lines, any GSR episode really.

Summary: His life changed with one phone call…

Author's Note: This story is actually another plot line for my other story, His Eyes, Her Smile. It just didn't fit into the story, so I thought I should write a separate one for this plot. There will be overlap between the two for sure though. Thanks to everyone who reviewed His Eyes, Her Smile (and any of my other stories). Enjoy!

The shrill ringing of the phone startled him slightly and he glanced at the offending object, over the report he was reading, before picking it up.

"Grissom," he sighed upon answering.

He listened to the person on the other end in disbelief, occasionally adding a comment or two. Fumbling around on his desk, he found a pen and took down the information he was given.

"Yes, I'll be there as soon as possible," he finished, hanging up and then quickly standing up. He moved around his office, gathering a few things, snatching up his glasses and then heading out into the hall. The night shift supervisor walked along, poking his head into labs as he passed, searching for a certain person. He nearly ran her down when he found her.

"Whoa Griss! What's the rush?" Catherine exclaimed as he stopped short of colliding with her.

"Cath, I need a favour."

"Sure, as long as it doesn't involve me helping you with that mound of paper work on your desk."

"I need to leave, so you're in charge alright?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, "How long are you leaving for?"

"I don't know actually, but I have to leave the state," he said, glancing at his watch.

"What? Did you clear this with Ecklie?"

He began to move away, "Um…I've got to go Catherine."

"Grissom!" He froze. He knew that tone. "What's going on?" she demanded.

He faced her, and in a hushed tone he said, "I'm going to San Francisco, and no I haven't cleared this with Ecklie. Look, I'll call him from the airport, but I've got to go now. It's Sara, Catherine."

"Sara?" He nodded, and she sighed, "Alright, go. I'll cover for you."

"Thanks a lot Catherine," he said, as he left.

She knocked on his door and waited, angrily tapping her foot. Finally he opened the door, and she could see the shocked look on his face, trying to figure out why she was standing on his doorstep.

"Grissom, we need to talk," she said before he could speak.

"Ecklie said you were quitting. What's going on?" he cut in.

She gave him a look that clearly said she was annoyed with him, "I think you should know Grissom."

His mouth gaped open, unsure of how to proceed, "I wish I knew how…"

She glared at him, "Don't give me that I don't know shit Grissom! I would think that you'd be smart enough to figure this out, but I guess I was wrong! Do you want me to spell it out for you? We slept together and as far as I know, you initiated it! And now…now, you act as if I don't exist! You won't even acknowledge what happened! I've had enough! You chose to walk away that morning, leave before I was even up, and then disregard all that happened. So now I'm leaving. I don't want anything to do with you ever again! You hear me? Don't follow me, don't try to find me! Just forget that I ever existed, cause you seem to be awfully good at that!"

With that she stormed off, leaving him stunned.

"Please fasten your seatbelts. We'll be landing shortly," the flight attendant's voice broke through his sleep.

He rubbed his eyes, thinking about what had replayed in his mind. That had been nearly four and a half years ago, and it was the last thing that Sara had ever said to him before she left. It had come as such as shock to the team that she was going, but he was the only one who knew the reason why. One night, one night of passion they had shared together, a heat of the moment kiss, fuelled by desire that had turned into so much more, without thinking rationally had brought about so many consequences. He knew he was to blame. He had ignored what had happened, and pushed her away for a good two weeks afterwards until the night she had appeared on his doorstep. Then she had left, and he hadn't heard anything about her until tonight. He glanced out his window and sighed. The lights of the city sparkled below him.

What would he say to her when he got there? Would he be able to talk to her? Why had he been called? Of all people, why him?

The seatbelt sign flashed on, and he buckled up as the plane began to descend towards the landing strip.

The cab dropped him off and he paid the driver. Taking a deep breath, he made his way towards the sliding glass doors. He winded his way through the rows of chairs and people towards the main desk.

"Excuse me," he tried to get the attention of a lady who was shuffling through papers.

The phone rang and she picked it up, looked up at him for only a second before she turned away again. He tapped his foot impatiently and then another man went behind the desk.

"Excuse me? Sir," he called to him.

The man seemed to notice and came over to him, "Yes? Did you fill out a form?"

"No, I'm looking for a woman named Sara Sidle, my name is Gil Grissom, I got a call from here earlier."

The man reached to his left to retrieve some charts and flipped through them, "Sidle…Sidle…alright got her. Why don't you have a seat over there and I'll go get one of the doctors to come talk to you."

"Is she alright? Can I see her?"

"Mr. Grissom, last I heard, Miss Sidle was still up in surgery. Your best bet is to wait to talk to one of the doctors ok?"

Grissom nodded, realizing that this nurse had no more information than he did. He trudged back towards the waiting room and found an uncomfortable looking plastic chair to settle himself in.

Waiting truly was the hardest part. He shifted in his chair, and looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. It had been almost half an hour and still no doctor had come to talk to him. He had pestered the nurses at the desk but no one could tell him anything. He was about to get up and go find another nurse when a woman approached him.

"Mr. Grissom?" she asked.

"Yes, that's me," he stood up to shake her hand, and she gestured for him to sit again. She placed herself beside him.

"I'm Doctor Becky Vine, I worked on Sara."

"What happened to her?" he asked, concern growing on his face.

"As far as we know, she was on her way home from work when her car was blindsided by a drunk driver. She was lucky to survive the accident and make it here."

Grissom rubbed his eyes, "Is she alright?" He dreaded the answer.

"Her injuries were extensive, and we stabilized her enough to get her to surgery," she paused, and looked him in the eye, "Mr. Grissom, I'm sorry. Sara died on the table over two hours ago."

His face paled, and he let his head drop. He could not believe what the doctor was telling him.

"I can put you in contact with a grief counsellor if you would like-" she said.

He shook his head, "No, no," he paused and looked up at her, "Do you, do you know why Sara wanted you to call me?" he asked.

"Pardon?"

"Why did she want to talk to me after all this time, did she say why?"

Doctor Vine considered this for a moment, "She only said to call you. She didn't say why. But maybe Mr. Grissom, maybe she wanted to reconcile. In my experience, people who have a near death experience want to get in touch with those that they have left out of their lives. Maybe Sara wanted to give you another chance."

He didn't respond, only stared straight ahead.

"Mr. Grissom? Is there anything I can do for you?" the doctor asked quietly.

He shook his head, "No, thank you."

Almost two hours later he arrived in his hotel room. He walked dejectedly towards the bed and collapsed upon it. He had spent a good hour or so at the hospital starring at the wall, trying to come to grips with the situation. Finally a nurse had convinced him to fill out the necessary forms for Sara's body to be released, and then gave him information as to what to do next. The thing was, as much information that he had, he still was unable to move forward. She was gone, and he just couldn't imagine it being possible. When she had left Vegas she had been gone, but he knew she was still somewhere out there, and one day, maybe, she would come back, or he would find her. When the doctor had called him in Vegas she had still been alive, and he had wished that he would be able to see her, to try and reconcile with her, then maybe they could rekindle their friendship. But now, the finality of death was almost to much for him to handle.

The ring of his cell phone broke the silence. He located it in his pocket and looked at the call display before flipping open the phone.

"Grissom," he sighed.

"Well?" Catherine's voice greeted him, her being blissfully unaware of the actual situation.

"Cath," he started, then paused. He took a deep breath, then exhaled. Where did he go from here?

"What is it Griss? Did you find her? What's going on?" she asked, concern growing in her voice.

"Sara….Sara was in an accident, she…didn't make it…"

"Oh God…Grissom," he heard her gasp.

"I have to make some arrangements, I might be here for a few days…could you, could you tell the team for me?"

"Of course…I'm so sorry Griss," he could hear the emotion in her voice, "Will you let us know when, when the funeral is? I'll make sure we all come, despite what Ecklie may say."

He tried to speak past the lump in his throat, "I…I will."

"Ok, we'll probably see you in a few days then. Get some sleep alright?"

"Ok. Bye."

He placed the phone on the night stand then lay back on the bed. He wouldn't sleep that night.

Later the next day he found himself sitting in Sara's lawyer's office, waiting as the man shuffled through some folders until he had found what he was looking for.

"Here it is, her will. Let me again say Mr. Grissom, I am sorry for your loss."

He nodded to the man, who then continued speaking.

"I guess we should begin, but I'm afraid that Mrs. Adams hasn't arrived yet."

"Who is Mrs. Adams?" Grissom asked, unsure of who else was supposed to join them.

"A social worker Mr. Grissom, here to go over certain stipulations set out in the will."
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and an older woman with fading copper hair stuck her head in, "So sorry I'm late," she apologized.

"No, you're right on time," the lawyer said to her, "Mrs. Adams, may I introduce you to Mr. Grissom."
They shook hands, "Well now that we've done that, let's get on with this. Mr. Grissom, are you aware that you have been named sole benefactor of Ms. Sidle's estate?"

Grissom's mouth hung open a little, "No," he uttered.

"When was the last time you were in contact with Sara may I ask?" the lawyer inquired.

"It's been four and a half years since I last spoke with her, which is why I find it odd that she has even named me in her will. We didn't part on good terms."

"Oh dear," Mrs. Adams broke in, "Four and a half years," she opened the folder she was holding, "Oh dear. Then you have no idea why I am here do you?"

Grissom shook his head, thoroughly confused.

"Mrs. Adams' represents Anna Emily Sidle, whom Sara gives over full responsibility of to you Mr. Grissom," the lawyer replied, looking slightly perplexed.

"Anna Emily Sidle?" Grissom repeated.

"Anna Emily Sidle, your daughter."

His mind was still reeling as he rode in the car with Mrs. Adams. Sara had a daughter, his daughter. She had been pregnant? Why had she never told him? Sara would have had to have been pregnant when she left Vegas. The girl was exactly four and a half years old. Why had Sara kept her out of his life? He knew she had been angry with him, angry enough to leave, but angry enough to keep this from him? It had to have been her pride. She probably didn't want any help from him, much less charity in child support. Now he had been named sole guardian of their daughter, a challenge that Mrs. Adams had questioned him about. The social worker had grilled him about his nightshift work, on whether or not he could handle taking care of such a young girl, especially at his age. She had forced him to seriously think about whether or not the girl could live in Vegas with him. And these issues spun in Grissom's head. His first response had been to want to see the child, and then he would make his decision. It was true; could he handle the responsibilities of fatherhood when he hadn't even been able to handle his relationship with Sara?
The car pulled into a parking space and Grissom got out, following Mrs. Adam's into the building. He continued to follow her down the halls until they came to brightly coloured room with many children in it playing. They watched through the window.

"See the little one reading the book in the corner?" Mrs. Adams pointed out.

He directed his glance towards the child and he didn't need the social worker to tell him it was Anna. The girl looked exactly like her mother, all except for the pair of blue eyes that glanced up every now and then at the other children. She had his eyes.

"Does she know?" he whispered.

"About you?"

"About Sara and me."
"She knows about her mother, though I am not sure how much she understands. She doesn't know about you yet. I was going to let you make the decision."

"Alright."

"Would you like to meet her?" Mrs. Adams asked quietly, as Grissom continued to stare at the child.

"Yes," he managed to squeeze past the lump forming in his throat.

He was led into another room, again with toys, but lacking children. He paced the floor as he waited for the social worker to bring in Anna. Finally, the door opened, the older copper haired woman leading the small brunette by the hand. The little girl took him in with her big blue eyes, not sure of who he was. Mrs. Adams knelt down to her level,

"Anna, I would like you to meet a very special man, his name is Mr. Grissom," she let go of the child's hand and gave her a little shove in his direction. Anna walked hesitantly towards him and he knelt down and reached his hand towards her.

"Hi honey," Grissom greeted her, as she stood in front of him.

"Are you here to ask me more questions?" Anna whispered.

"No."

"Are you going to help me like Mrs. Adams?"

"Anna, I'm here to see you," he paused. He knew he had to tell her. He couldn't just leave his daughter, this innocent child to go into the foster system. Sara would hate him for that, and he knew that was why she had left Anna to him.

"Honey, I'm your….your dad."

The little girl's eyes grew wider as she looked at him. She was silent for a few moments then said in a small voice, "Will you take me home?"

"Only if you want to come with me Anna."

"I do daddy."

She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and he felt the tears slide down his cheeks as he held his daughter. It didn't matter what sacrifices he would have to make, he would take care of her. Anna was his second chance to make things right with Sara.

To be continued?

It's all up to the readers whether or not I keep this story going. Let me know if you want more and please tell me what you think of it so far. L