A/N: We had thought we'd finish this one by the end of the month-one more chapter to this one! How many other unsolved cases can you remember?

Unsolved Mysteries

Chapter 7

In her dream, Sara drifted in a translucent ocean, greenish-hued aquamarine, peering into an exquisitely fragile world, teeming with delicate life forms. Live coral of soft pink and blue-grey served as a background for rainbow waves of blue, red, orange, and purple anemones; red lace fans swayed in waves of bright green ribbons of seaweed. Jewel like fish darted by in the hundreds, slim as bullets, round as tennis balls, appearing to split the water into silvery flames of fire.

It was completely peaceful until suddenly, she was awake.

It happened so quickly. One moment she was dreaming; the next, wide-awake knowing she was in full labor. Almost four weeks early. She had two or three strong contractions, her water broke, and she knew she had to get to the hospital. Immediately.

Grissom was awake in an instant, as soon as she touched his shoulder. "It's time, Gil," she whispered. "This baby is coming—now."

Grissom switched on a lamp, saw his wide-eye wife, giving no indication of pain except for her hands in tight fists and worried eyes. He was out of bed, helping Sara with her clothes before she could ask for his help.

"I'm made a mess in the bathroom," she said.

Smiling, Grissom assured her he'd clean it up—which he did—before getting dressed.

She took three minutes to check on her young daughter, still a baby, a beautiful, extremely intelligent one. It had surprised Sara to find herself fascinated with every moment spent with her child, loving her, hugging and kissing her, laughing with her. And in a few hours, they would have a second baby, a brother for this little one, who would never remember a time without her sibling.

Greg and Nick, sleeping upstairs, were pulled from their beds by ringing cell phones and Grissom's panicked voice.

"We've got to leave, now!" He said. "Call Jim—he'll come—he knows what to do when Beth wakes up!"

A minute later, stumbling downstairs, the two men looked at each other and then at their friends heading out the door.

Sounding more confident than he was, Nick said, "We'll take care of her! Don't worry about a thing."

Sara looked worried, but both assumed it was because of her condition.

Once the door closed, Greg called Jim Brass telling him of the situation. Brass mumbled something about coming right over. Greg looked at the time and said, "We've had two hours of sleep."

Nick said, "I'll sleep on the sofa so I can hear her when she wakes up."

Without a word, Greg stretched on the other sofa, almost instantly closing his eyes and going back to sleep without a word.

/

…In a whispering slide into a pink and pearly day, before the sun was above the horizon, a second Grissom baby was born. Pain had been minimal with a quick delivery and, afterwards, Sara felt wonderful. In the moment of birth, her husband's arms had been around her as if he would never let her go, his voice whispering words into her ear.

When the baby was placed on her chest, the first hand on the baby's back was his father's. And Sara knew she heard a gasp, followed by "Dearest Sara, you've made a second miracle."

Every new baby was beautiful, but for his mother, little Henry was the most beautiful baby in the world. Long and slender, almost translucent, weighing nearly six pounds, with a perfectly shaped head already covered with pale golden wisps of hair that would eventually darken. Vivid blue eyes that would not change, because, as mother examined her new son, she knew his eyes, his hands, the shape of his nose, the dimpled chin were like his father's. Even fingers and toes were tiny replicas of those of his father.

Later, when Catherine showed up with flowers and a pale blue infant jumper, Grissom agreed to leave his wife and son. Obviously pulled between two places, Sara encouraged him to go home.

"Play with Beth. Promise her we will be home soon with her new brother," said Sara. "And remember—the new doll! It's in my closet."

Before leaving, Grissom took his wife's face in his hands and kissed her rather passionately.

Neither blushed when Catherine said, "I'm here. She will be fine—little Henry will be fine!" She shooed the new father out, adding, "Take a shower—eat—sleep! I'll stay until you return."

The baby, four weeks early, passed all newborn tests and measurements, and was declared healthy by a number of physicians. Discharge could be within forty-eight hours, and Sara, somewhat phobic about hospital germs, was willing to shorten those hours by double-digits.

Catherine, after diligently inquiring about all things concerning recent labor, settled into the extra chair, asking, "Any more babies or are you stopping at two?"

Softly, Sara laughed before she said, "Two—perfect family. One for each of us to chase." Slowly, she pushed her foot against the floor and rocked. With her index finger, she lightly stroked her son's forehead. Looking at him, the closed eyes with dark, gold-tipped lashes so like his father's, she loved him so much it hurt.

She said, "We won't have another. These two are miracles—luck—science—whatever you want to call it. I produced six eggs; only three made it to embryo stage and two grew into babies. It's enough." She smiled. "I'll not try again." She shifted the baby so she could see his face. "Two perfect babies—who would have imagined—at my age—our ages—we'd finally be parents."

Catherine's laughter bubbled and chuckled. "You waited long enough," she said as she rested her chin in a palm and leaned forward to look at the baby. "He's got a lot of his dad's look, doesn't he?" Her finger stroked the baby's head. "When I had Lindsey, I thought I'd have another and then Eddie—well, you know what happened with that. And I never got around to finding the right guy to be a father."

Cradling the baby's head, Sara said, "I always regretted that."

"What?"

With eyes suddenly shiny, Sara's met Catherine's. Sara said, "I've never told anyone, but the one unsolved case—the one death—I think about is Eddie's. I should have solved it—should have been able to bring enough evidence to the table to charge both of them."

"You did all you could do," Catherine whispered. "I—I knew there was nothing that could be done. Eddie drowned." Her hand went to her forehead. She said, "Like you, I thought about it for years—I've looked up Candy several times and she's always been on the fringe—sang in a club for a while, joined a band and traveled. Last time I found her, she was working in a bar off the Strip."

Sara held the baby out to Catherine. "Will you hold Henry while I do a bathroom break? It's time to feed him—he hasn't latched on well yet—which I'm told is a problem for preemies. He'll have to stay longer if he isn't nursing and I don't know if I could leave him here."

Once the baby was settled in the crook of Catherine's arm, Sara disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later. Catherine was cooing a simple melody to a whimpering newborn.

"My nipples are dripping," Sara said with a laugh. "Maybe that's a sign he's ready to nurse."

Catherine waited until Sara was in the rocking chair before passing the baby to her. In a few seconds, the whimper was becoming a full-blown cry. The baby nuzzled, whimpered a few more times, before his cheeks began to work and his little mouth was attached.

Sara sighed with relief. "Yes! He's latched and sucking."

Catherine relaxed in her chair. "I never tried nursing," she said. "Bottles and formula for Lindsey. And even with that, I was a wreck most of the time. Eddie wasn't home much—he barely made it for her delivery. My mom had gone on a trip to Mexico and did not get home for a week after Lindsey's birth." She laughed, saying, "Maybe that's the real reason I never had another one."

For a while the two women sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds were soft grunts coming from the baby. Interruption came with a visit by a nurse, asking questions and seemingly satisfied with answers, left the two women alone.

Sara moved the baby and settled back in the rocker, her hand curved around the baby's head. "You know, I kept a lot of cases active in my mind for years—Pam Adler's death taught me a lesson—let it go. But I still regret having no closure for you and Lindsey."

A sigh came from Catherine before she said, "I—I didn't help, did I? I wanted closure for Lindsey and yet I never talked to her about her dad's death until she was an adult—when she wanted to become a CSI. I asked her why she wanted to have that kind of career and she said she wanted to help families with closure." Another sigh, "I knew I should have talked to her…of all the cases we've had, Eddie's death is the one that changed me. I knew I'd be Lindsey's only parent and for a while she and I had a rough time, but we came to terms with life—and my philosophy has always been 'never doubt, never look back'. So I didn't."

"What does she say now? About her dad?"

A soft laugh; Catherine said, "Now, she knows how difficult it is to solve every case, to find closure for everyone involved. Greg has been a great supervisor for her."

Another relaxed silence settled between the two women until baby Henry's head turned away from his mother, his mouth opened in a milky yawn, and a faint tooting noise came from his bottom.

The two women giggled until one snorted which caused both to laugh even harder.

"Dear God," Sara said, catching her breath between giggles, "He's not two days old and already picking up his dad's bad habits."

A/N: We love to hear from readers...it's one way we know there are other GSR lovers out there! And if you love GSR, you'll love the last chapter!