A/N: This is my first attempt at a fan-fic. It is yet another post-butterflied fic. And it comes out of an experience I had the saturday the show aired. The line from the minister is the same one used at a funeral I attended.

Spoilers: Up to Butterflied.

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just took them out to play for a moment.

He kept to the shadows at the back of the church because he knew he shouldn't be there. Shouldn't be…but he could not stay away. No matter how many times he told her that she shouldn't get personally involved in case, no matter how often he warned her of the danger, he told himself that this time, it was different. And he couldn't stay away.

Lost in his memories, his blue eyes stared straight ahead as the people who had loved her filed into the church. He looked up only when the casket was brought in, moving to the side, staying in the shadows. It was white, with gold handles and mother-of-pearl inlays. He stared at it, not giving any thought to the men bearing it down the aisle, men she had worked with, some of them crying for her. His thoughts were on the container itself, and the woman inside. Only children should have white caskets, he mused, not grown, vibrant women.

As he watched the minister take her place at the front, her eyes scanning the gathered mourners he reflexively took a step back. This wasn't his life. It wasn't his loss. It wasn't his grief.

Except, in the way that it was.

I do…you know, by the time you figure it out, you really could be too late.

He jerked himself away from the memory, turning his eyes instead to the woman who was now standing before the casket at the front of the church. Her mouth was moving, but her words didn't reach him….couldn't pierce through the miasma of memories swirling about him.

I don't even have to turn around…

Cite your source.

Now cite your source.

It's easy to wear your heart on your sleeve when you aren't looking in his eyes.

Chalk…

Since I met you.

I have you.

I need you.

I couldn't...

He pulled himself forcefully from the last memory, his eyes closing against the pain. He shook his head to clear and turned his eyes back to the front, focusing on the minister again, as she gave her gentle sermon. He winced again, as the woman's words reached him. "It takes a great courage to love…"

She was right. It took courage to love, to let someone in your life, your heart, your soul. And he…he was a coward. He knew that now. Only, it was too late. He was too late to change. No matter how much he may want it. He had let his last chance slide away.

He turned around before the service ended, not wanting to be seen, and stepped out into the harsh Nevada sun. He squinted to give his eyes time to adjust to the glare, his gaze falling on a figure standing at the foot of the church steps. Blinking to clear his vision, he moved toward the street, stopping suddenly as the figure became clear. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. He should have known she wouldn't be able to stay away any more than he could

She stood, staring up at him, something unreadable in her expression. But her eyes….God how he could loose himself in her eyes. He stood, too long, he knew it was too long, and she turned away. Again. He always waited too long.

But not this time.

"Sara!"

Sprinting down the stairs, he left Debbie Marlin to rest in peace, and raced back to the land of the living. Or perhaps, he was entering it for the first time.

"Sara!"

She stopped at his calls, not turning to face him. But she stopped. He didn't wait to see what it meant, not this time. He raced around her, arms reaching out to pull her small frame to him in a crushing embrace, his face buried in her hair.

"Sara…"

"Grissom….what…" Then her voice died away, and her hands came around his waist, and he could feel her tears against his neck. "Grissom…"

The church was empty, the mourners gone before he released her, pulling away to look into her eyes. His thumb reached up to brush at the dampness on her cheeks, as her head cocked softly to the side.

"You…you said…" Her breath came in gentle gulps. "You said you couldn't…"

"I can…now…Sara. Am I too late?"

He smiled as her hand came up to touch his cheek, her fingers slipping gently over his beard to come to rest on his neck. "Never."