Disclaimer: Characters within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Well, it took awhile to get this out, and I do apologize for that. I might not have ever finished without the gentle (Help! She's got a ruler!!) prodding of my fantastic beta, PhDelicious. I also want to thank Lisa for all her concrit and kindness:) And thanks to you, the reader, for sticking with me through my computer troubles and shiny object syndrome. Enjoy!

Hello, Goodbye
by Kristen Elizabeth

As life gets longer, awful feels softer.
Well if feels pretty soft to me.
And if it takes shit to make bliss,
well I feel pretty blissfully.

She was fourteen minutes late. Fourteen minutes and he was ready to jump out of his skin.

Grissom glanced around the dining room, checking once again to make sure everything was in place. Every candle, every utensil...no detail was too small to be overlooked. So much hung in the balance.

He had to admit that he'd been surprised to see her looking so well, even fresh from a garbage dump. On the flight home, his dozing dreams had been laced with images of her frail body, her pale face. Too tired and too sick to answer her phone any of the half-dozen times he'd tried to call her since their last conversation.

But then her smile had been bright. Startled, maybe even a little embarrassed to be caught streaked with grime, but full of life. He had wanted to get her alone right then, to reassure her that he'd meant what he'd said on the phone. She could rely on him. He wasn't going to leave, even when things got tough. They'd face the future together.

Everything had been postponed when Mike Keppler was killed. Now, three days later, Sara was finally on her way to his place for what would be their real reunion. The one where he planned to hold her, and quite possibly never let her go again.

The sound of knuckles rapping lightly on his door confused him. And even though it was Sara standing on his stoop, Grissom's frown grew deeper.

"What happened to your key?"

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to just...come in," she said, her voice perfectly throaty.

Grissom stepped aside to let her by. "You never have to knock on this door, Sara."

Still, she entered like she'd lost her passport. "Something smells good."

He closed the door and took a breath before replying, "Spicy noodles."

"My favorite."

"I know." They watched each other for a long moment. He had no idea what she was thinking; he was just enjoying looking at her. "Let me take your coat," he said, breaking the silence.

"No!" She wrapped the two halves of the short, corded jacket tighter around her middle, and folded her arms over them. "It's a little cold in here."

Now he was worried. The thermostat was set at seventy-three. "I can turn the heat on."

Sara shook her head. "It's okay. I'll just keep it on." She looked away from him. "Can we eat? I'm starving."

She dug into her noodles and bok choy like she hadn't eaten anything substantial in weeks. Grissom couldn't help but wonder if she had an ulterior motive for keeping her mouth full of food. But he was determined not to push her. She would tell him in her own way, on her own time table.

After dinner, he cleared away the dishes. When he came back into the living room, she was standing by window, staring out at the city.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked her. "Coffee? Brandy?"

She turned her head towards him. Framed by a million lights, she took his breath away. "We need to talk. We haven't really...talked."

He started towards her, drawn to her like a sailor to the Sirens. "I tried calling you from the airport."

"I wasn't ready then." She closed her eyes. "And now..."

They were so close now that he could smell the sweet scent of her hair. A far cry from the garbage dump, although he would have kissed her then if he'd been able to. "Now what?"

Sara shook her head. "I don't know. I can't think when...when you're this close."

In his original plan, they made it to the bedroom. But Grissom supposed the couch was a decent alternative. She had half of his clothes off before he even wrestled her jacket from her shoulders. No words could describe how good she felt pressed up against him. She was warm and very much alive.

If he only had her like this for a limited amount of time, he was determined to take advantage of every precious moment.

With their mouths melded, he reached for the bottom of her shirt. His fingers brushed over her stomach, but inside of finding flat, pliant flesh, he felt a firmness that had never been there before. A roundness that was unmistakable. Without even realizing it, he froze.

She broke the kiss, panting for breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his ear. "I should have told you before you left."

He sat there, dumbfounded, while she moved off his lap, and curled into the far corner of the couch. He couldn't remember a single instance in his life when his mind had been quite so blank.

Seconds ticked by, and with each one that passed without a word from him, he had a growing sense that he was making things worse. He had to say something, do something. She could just get up and go, walk out of his house, leave him forever.

But now it wouldn't just be her he'd be pushing away. Suddenly he had two precious people in his life, and so much more to lose.

When he finally spoke, his words cracked with each syllable. "You're not dying."

The faint traces of a smile colored her face. "No. I'm not dying."

Grissom blinked. "I don't understand. Catherine said...you were going to a different doctor."

Sara's sigh was laced with impatience, and he regretted referencing Catherine as a reliable source of information. "Yeah. I did. Because mine wouldn't..." She stopped short. After a moment, he watched her vault up off the couch. With her jacket gone, he could see it even more plainly now. What the coveralls had hidden from him in the hallway. The way their baby was changing her body.

He had the sudden desire to remove every remaining piece of her clothing and examine her from head to toe, to chart every single one of those changes. His shock was giving way to awe.

She crossed to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between them as possible, before turning back to face him.

"Could you hate me?"

He pushed himself up into a sitting position. "What?"

"Is there anything I could do that would make you hate me?"

"Sara..." He wasn't going to think; he wasn't going to ruin anything by hesitating. "No. I love you."

She began nodding again, her method of keeping tears at bay. "I went to that other doctor for an abortion." Grissom swallowed heavily, but let her go on. "I didn't do it. Obviously. You called...and I couldn't."

As boy, he'd had a puzzle that was double-sided. The pieces were the same, but they ended up putting together two very different pictures. As he went over their phone conversations in his mind, he felt like he was thirteen again, putting together a different puzzle with the same pieces.

"When you talked about change, this is what you meant." He shook his head. "And I told you I didn't want it. God, Sara...I didn't know."

"I know. And maybe if you'd been here, the thought never would have crossed my mind. But you were two thousand miles away telling me you wanted everything to be the way you left it when you came back." Sara crossed her arms. "I was throwing up all the time. I was tired and scared and mad at you."

"Honey..."

"And now you have every right to be mad at me."

"I'm not," he said immediately

Sara frowned. "Why not? I almost killed our baby. I'm mad at me!"

He got up and started towards her, mindless of his half-nude state. "Stop," he said softly. "I can't be mad at you for having doubts when I was the one who ran away."

Her eyes shone; her arms slipped apart and her hands covered her belly. "It doesn't matter where you were or why you left. How could I doubt this, even for a second? This isn't an inconvenience or a mistake. It's a part of you and me. And I was going to throw it away because you hurt me. What the hell kind of a mother will I make?"

"An imperfect one," Grissom said. "It's only fair, since I'll be a far from perfect father."

She leaned towards him, and their foreheads met. "I want to have this baby."

"So do I." Sara drew back to look up at him; he smoothed her hair behind her ear. "Either one of us could die tomorrow. I had that very painful reality drilled into my head when I let myself jump to conclusions about your condition."

"Yeah, that was pretty unlike you," Sara said, licking tears from her lips. "Getting ahead of the evidence."

He nodded. "When it comes to you...I'm an idiot." That made her smile. And even though she didn't deny his claim, he smiled, too. "Whatever happens in the future, it's evidence that we had this. That we loved each other."

"Well." There was a twinkle in her eye that he wanted to preserve forever. "I was taught that the evidence is everything." She paused. "But if you leave me again, Gil, I swear..."

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Sara spread his hands across her belly. "We promise, too."

He woke up the next morning to find her propped up on one elbow, watching him.

"What's wrong?" he mumbled, still mostly asleep.

"I just realized...I didn't say 'hello' last night."

Grissom pulled her down to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay, honey. I never said 'goodbye'."

Fin