A/N: I've been holding on to this one for nearly a month at this point, but, after seeing some promo pics for season 9, I think it's time it was posted. This is a post season 8 fic, so anything through the finale is fair game.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy this story!

I don't own CSI.

Chapter 1: Grissom

"Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the 'fasten seatbelt' sign as we make our final descent. Please return to your seats and stow any personal items that you may have taken out during flight. We'll have you on the ground in Las Vegas in about fifteen minutes."

Sara sat back in her seat, closing her eyes. Fifteen minutes. She only had fifteen minutes left to come to terms with all that she was about to face.

The fact that Grissom had called and asked her to come home was trivial. She would have done anything for him. No, it was the reason he had asked her to return that was causing her so much pain.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of it. Warrick was gone.

Warrick. The man who did more than anyone to fight for the law, while sometimes fighting against it. The man who could be as much rogue cop as team rock. The man who had won her friendship during her first year in Las Vegas, and who had supported her through some of the worst moments of her life.

If only she had been there to support him through his.

The plane eased onto the runway, and Sara opened her eyes.

"Welcome to Las Vegas," the flight attendant said in what Sara considered to be an overly cheerful voice. "Local time is ten fifteen."

Sara blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from running down her cheeks. Her eyes were already red and puffy from crying on her way to the airport that morning. She didn't need to make it worse. She reached for her purse, hoping to survey and to correct the worst of the damage before meeting Grissom.

"Missing San Francisco already?" the woman beside her asked, giving her a look of motherly kindness.

Sara turned to her, trying and failing to smile. "No," she answered honestly, "not a bit."

The older woman fell silent as Sara pulled out a compact. She flipped it open, shuddering at the sight of her blotchy face. Sighing, she closed the compact and replaced it in her purse. Grissom had certainly seen her looking worse. He wasn't going to be scared off this time.

They finally docked at the gate and stood to deplane. Before leaving her seat, Sara's neighbor turned to her again.

"Honey, I don't know you or what brought you to Vegas," she said. "But, I can tell you that no matter what happened, it's not the end of the world. You just have to battle through to the light at the other side."

Sara nodded forlornly. "I will," she said. "We'll all make it through this."

Well … all except Warrick.

After she had left, Grissom had imagined Sara's homecoming a hundred different ways. In many of his fantasies, he had picked her up at the airport. But, never like this.

He parked his car in the short-term lot and turned off the engine. For a moment, he sat still in his seat and stared at the airport.

He wanted to see Sara. Desperately. But, in a strange way, he didn't want to see her. It was as if seeing her, knowing that she was home again, would make it real. It would mean that Warrick was truly gone, that she was home for his funeral, and that they would have to investigate his death.

Finally convincing himself that seeing her was more important than anything else, he left his car and went inside to baggage claim.

Sara made her way to baggage claim, half looking for the carousel that would hold her luggage, and half searching for the man who had promised to meet her flight. She was on the verge of calling him so they could play a high-tech game of "Marco Polo" when she heard her name.

"Sara?"

She turned and saw him for the first time in nearly seven months. He had regrown his beard and lost some weight, but what she truly noticed was the intense sorrow in his eyes. Without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. Tears, now her constant companion, ran down her cheeks, landing in the crook of his neck, where she had buried her face.

Grissom held her close, feeling the tears threaten to fall from his own eyes. He wasn't sure what made him want to cry more: that Warrick was gone, or that Sara was home. Tears of sorrow, tears of happiness … it didn't really matter. He needed the release that they would bring.

Sara pulled back to look up into his eyes. "I'm so sorry," she said.

Grissom drew a shuddering breath. "Me, too."

Sara touched his cheek, running her fingers over his beard.

Grissom looked down into her red-rimmed, teary eyes and thought that she had never looked more beautiful. Within seconds, he found himself mesmerized. "Sara," he whispered.

Her whispered name was all the invitation she needed. Sara leaned closer and gently pressed her lips against his.

It was Grissom who broke their kiss. He looked at her for a moment, cradling her face in his hands and brushing her tears away with his thumbs.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

Grissom kissed her once more, then released her. "Come on. Let's get your bags."

Sara nodded and let him take her hand to lead her to the appropriate carousel. They stood in silence as they waited for her luggage. Their silence continued as they walked hand in hand to the car, and even as Grissom loaded her suitcases into the trunk. It wasn't until they sat down in his car that he spoke.

"I missed you."

Tears welled up in Sara's eyes yet again. "I missed you, too. So much."

"I'm sorry that I had to call you back … like this."

Sara reached over and slid her hand into his. "I'm glad you called me. I would have hated myself forever if I hadn't been here."

Grissom exhaled slowly. "I couldn't protect him," he said. "I thought that I had, but …"

"It wasn't your fault," Sara whispered.

"I should have done a better job," Grissom insisted. "I should have listened when he said there was someone higher up involved. I should have found that person first. I should have kept Warrick safe."

"Hey," Sara said, grabbing his chin and turning it so that he was looking straight into her eyes. "Gil, you listen to me. This wasn't your fault. If you want to blame someone, blame me."

"How could I blame you?" he asked, frowning. "You weren't even here."

"Exactly. If I had stayed, things may have gone completely differently. Maybe I could have stopped Warrick from going to that club. From getting involved with Gedda in the first place."

"Sara, please … don't try to 'what if' this."

"Okay," she agreed. "But, if I can't, then you can't, either."

Grissom gave her a lopsided smile. "Okay. Deal."

"Good."

Grissom released her hand and turned the key in the ignition. "Let's go to the lab. I know a few other people who will be very, very glad to see you again."