A/N: Spoilers for episode 3x2, The Accused is Entitled.

"Who wants lunch?"

Catherine asked the question once we were outside the courthouse, the media circus that surround Tom Haviland behind us, and back in the sunshine.

"I'm in," Warrick said.

"Sorry, Cath," Nick replied. "I've got another court case this afternoon. I'm going to go back to the lab to review before it starts."

"Grissom?"

Grissom lifted his head, pulled out of the trance he'd been in for the last two weeks.

"No," he said simply.

"Fine, fine," Catherine said, waving away his answer. "You don't appreciate good company. Sara?"

I looked at her apologetically.

"Rain check?"

"You got it. It's you and me, Warrick."

We all began to head our separate ways, and I unlocked my car, hot from sitting in the blazing sun all morning, and sat in the driver's seat with the door open. I sighed.

Marjorie Wescott played me for a fool. She undermined my credibility and made me look like a whining, grappling, starry-eyed girl who would do just about anything for a man's attention. That was not me. Anyone who knew me could vouch for that. But up there on the stand, under her cold eyes and the gaze of the judge and the weight of anticipation in the air, I lost the ability to defend myself.

I guess it all turned out okay in the end. Tom Haviland was not going to get away with the murders of the two women. But I still felt defeated.

I stared at my cell phone. Was it strange, that after being interrogated about whatever our "relationship" was, the person I wanted to talk to was Hank? We really weren't anything official per se, but Warrick was right. He did make me smile. And right then, I felt like I could use one.

So I called him.

"Hey, how'd court go?" he said as his hello.

"Terribly," I replied. "Well, for me. Grissom pulled through in the end."
"Did she give you any trouble about the bra?"

He was referring to the garment he'd moved in his attempts to revive one of the victims.

"Just a little," I admitted. "But don't worry about it."

"Sara, I'm sorry if what I did put you in a tight spot," he said. "I didn't know that every move we made would be examined in court…"

"Seriously, don't worry about it," I repeated. "She just… got me a little flustered, I guess."

We both paused.

"Sara," he said finally. "Have you ever been to Pahrump?"

"I… what?"

"There's a really nice vineyard there," he explained. "Pahrump Valley Winery. It's not even an hour away, and they have really good food and really good wine. It's beautiful. I want to take you there."

I paused, a little surprised. A vineyard was a far cry from the handful of movie and bowling dates we'd had so far.

You deserve to have a life.

The words were ringing in my ears. Why does everything he says follow me?

"What the heck," I said. "Let's do it."

"I'll call and book us a reservation," he rushed. "I hope you like blush wines, theirs are fantastic. I can—"

"Whoah, whoah," I interrupted, stopping him. "Court's over, but I still have a lot of work to do. You weren't thinking tonight, were you?"

"Oh. Uh, no."

I smiled just a little at the disappointment in his voice.

"I have a night off this weekend," I offered. "How's Friday?"

"Friday's perfect," he said. "I'll be looking forward to it."

"Me too."

"Bye, Sara."
"Bye."
I ended the call and closed my car door, the temperature inside the vehicle sufficiently cooled. I had to admit that I was excited for Friday. It had been a long time since a guy had taken me somewhere as nice as a vineyard.

Fleetingly, I wondered what Grissom thought of Hank, and of what was going on between us. I didn't know if they'd ever even met, but the surprise and almost alarm in his voice when he spoke to Philip Gerard told me that at best, he was uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do, or how to feel. I had painfully obvious feelings for Grissom, if I were to be brutally honest, I would probably admit that a part of me even loved him, but his actions recently had proved that he was capable of hurting me. He kept his promise for a while – he'd tried harder after I threatened to quit – but lately, I'd felt him drifting again, further and further away.

What was I supposed to do? I couldn't continue waiting for him forever. I'd already proven that that only left me feeling disappointed and lonely in the end.

Hank was not Grissom. He could never be Grissom, replace him, or wipe away the affection I felt for him. But he was good company and he made me feel like I deserved attention. And he made me smile.

For now, that would have to do.