A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! We hope you enjoy this chapter.

I don't own CSI. Some dialogue and inspiration are taken from episode 404, "Feeling the Heat."


October 2003

"Grissom?"

Grissom looked up from the transcript of Brass' interrogation with the baby's father to see Catherine standing in his office doorway.

"Transport just left the car in the garage," she said.

Grissom put down the folder in his hands and took off his glasses. "Okay. Let's get to work."


Was it wrong that being at Lake Mead made her think of Grissom? As Sara looked out across the lake where their victim had died, all she could think of was standing on the deck of the Desert Princess with Grissom, feeling his arms around her and his lips on hers. She shook her head to bring herself back into the moment. She wasn't with Grissom. She was with Nick. And, they weren't on a date. They were investigating the death of a girl who had likely been on a lake date of her own.

"Okay," Nick said, forcibly bringing her back to the present. "It looks like we need to talk to this Mark Young. Even if he didn't kill her, he's probably the last person who saw Sophia Renatta alive."

"Yeah," Sara agreed.

Nick looked at her for a minute. "You like him for this."

"Don't you? The jet ski rental guy said that they had obviously just met. We found her body, but not his. Even if we go with the idea that he had nothing to do with her death, why didn't he help her? Why didn't he try to save her?"

"Who's to say he didn't?" Nick argued. "He could be in the hospital right now, recovering from his injuries."

Sara smiled. "Okay, point taken. Let's just find him, shall we?"

Nick pulled the keys to their SUV from his pocket. "Your chariot awaits."

Chuckling, Sara followed him to the car.


"Nice car," Catherine commented as they walked into the garage.

"Very clean," Grissom said. "Aren't we under a water conservation mandate right now?"

"Well, if we are, no one told my neighbors," Catherine replied with a chuckle. "They have the nicest flowers I've ever seen."

Grissom shook his head, thinking that Sara would have a fit over the blatant lack of concern for the environment. He shook his head again, trying to bring his thoughts away from the woman he had held in his arms so recently. "Front seat or back?" he asked, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

"Oh, I'll take the back."

Grissom nodded his agreement, and opened the front doors of the car. He went for the passenger side first, and opened the glove box. Catherine opened the door behind him and looked at the baby seat.

"Car seat's fastened correctly," she commented. "Most aren't."

Grissom was only vaguely aware of Catherine removing the car seat as he searched the front of the car. It wasn't until she asked him to look at the back seat that he abandoned his task.

"What do you think?" she asked, gesturing toward the seat.

"Um … nothing," he said, observing perfectly clean, uncluttered, unmarked leather.

"Exactly," Catherine said. "There's no indentations in the leather."

"Well, maybe this isn't the primary vehicle for transporting the baby," Grissom said.

"Yeah, same thing the father said," Catherine replied.

Grissom looked down, and noticed several red drops on the floor. "What is that?" he asked.

"I don't know," Catherine said. She swabbed the stain and tested it for blood. "Negative for blood," she said.

Grissom sighed.

"What are you thinking?" Catherine asked.

He shook his head. "I don't get people."

Catherine looked at him closely.

"They obviously love their child," he said. "He has nice things … his car seat is properly strapped into the car … How could they just forget about him?"

Catherine shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "But, I do know that you need to remove yourself from this case."

Grissom's eyes snapped to her face. "What?"

"You just worked a terrible case involving a child," she said. "You can't tell me that what happened to Susanna Kirkwood didn't affect you. To deal with something like that, then turn around and immediately jump into a case with a dead baby … I know you, Gil. It's too much. You need some time before you work another case involving a child."

Grissom blinked. "Cath … I …"

She held up her hand. "Don't fight me on this. Just say thank you, and go help Warrick with his case."

"You want to run this solo?"

"I can handle it," she said with a shrug. "I'll get Nick or Sara if I need help."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure! Now, get out of this garage before I call security and have you removed!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, her tone bordered on the teasing, and Grissom smiled slightly.

"Cath … thanks."

She smiled. "Anytime."


October, 2015

"Hi."

Sara looks up as Greg walks into the layout room. She has spread her crime scene photos across the table, and is reading Brass' notes on the mother's statement. "Hi," she says.

"Doc Robbins says he'll be ready for us tomorrow at the start of shift," Greg says.

"Works for me," Sara replies. "Listen, I'm noticing some inconsistencies in the mother's statement. Her timeline seems off with the one the paramedics provided. And, she never mentions that her boyfriend was there, but neighbors say that his car was in her driveway until about an hour before the paramedics were called. It all suggests that Madison's death was anything but accidental. Brass is getting her medical records for us; if there's a history of abuse, we'll be able to find it there."

"Sara …"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"You were the one who first said her death wasn't accidental," Sara says. "Are you changing your mind?"

"That's not what I meant." Greg sits down and moves his stool so that he is in her line of vision, forcing her to look at him. "I can get Nick to work this case with me," he says. "You can help Catherine with her case. She's got a double."

Sara frowns. "Greg, are you trying to kick me off the case?"

"I don't want to kick you off," he says. "I just … I don't like the idea of you working a case with a dead baby, that's all."

"Greg, that's very sweet, but I'm fine."

"Sara, you can't tell me this isn't hard for you."

"Of course, it's hard," she says. "No one likes the cases with dead kids. But, Greg, someone needs to find justice for Madison. Someone needs to speak for her. And, I want to be that someone."

"You're absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes," Sara says firmly.

"Okay," Greg says, clearly still convinced that it is a bad idea for Sara to work this case.

Sara smiles. "I love you for your concern. I really do. But … I need to do this, Greg. You can understand that, right?"

"Yeah," he says with a slight nod. "Yeah, I can understand that."

"Good." She smiles. "Besides, I've got you working with me. I know you won't let me take it too hard."


October 2003

Grissom wasn't sure that helping Warrick was the best use of his time. The autopsy revealed that his victim had been electrocuted; Warrick only needed to find the source of the charge. Archie was very eager to help him, leaving Grissom an unnecessary third member of their team.

Rather than hang around watching Warrick and Archie search for a killer light switch, Grissom began on his paperwork. He had only made it through the first stack on his desk when he found Sara's and Nick's applications for the new Lead CSI position. He read them over and sighed.

It would be a difficult choice. Both were extremely qualified. Both were excellent members of his team. Both wanted to advance their careers.

And, his heart whispered, both were very special to him. Not in the same way, of course, but … Nick had been with him since he had first started his career as a CSI. He worked so hard, was so dedicated, so earnest … Grissom had a genuine affection for the younger man.

But, Sara …

Grissom closed his eyes, wondering how in the world he could even put into words all that he felt for Sara, or all that she meant to him.

He shook his head and put the applications back on his desk.

Nick and Sara were currently working a case together. Perhaps, Grissom's new-found free time could be a golden opportunity. He could observe them together, and see if watching them from the outside – as a supervisor, rather than a coworker – would help him make his nearly impossible decision.


"I can't find Mark Young, but I found his father," Sara announced as she walked into the break room, where Nick was eating a sandwich.

"Oh, good," Nick said. "Is he coming in?"

"He's on his way."

"Well, then, let's be on ours," Nick said.


Mr. Young was already at PD when Sara and Nick arrived. He looked very concerned – almost terrified – when they joined him in the lobby.

"Mr. Young?" Nick asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Nick Stokes, and this is Sara Sidle. We're with the Crime Lab."

"What happened to Mark?" he asked before Nick could say another thing.

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out," Nick said. "Does he like to go to Lake Mead?"

"Yeah, of course," Mr. Young replied. "All the kids do. Did something happen to him there? Did he drown?"

"We're not saying that," Nick said.

"Well, what are you saying?"

"Mr. Young, your son was last seen with a young girl," Sara said. "We know that he rented a waverunner. Now, that young girl is in our morgue, and we don't know where your son is."

"I can't believe this is happening," Mr. Young said, clearly stunned. "Mark has a job. There's no reason for him to be on the lake during a work day."

"We contacted Mark's manager at work," Sara said. "He called in sick."

"What are you saying?" Mr. Young exclaimed. "That he killed this girl? What is this?"

"No, no," Nick said quickly with a sidelong glance at Sara. "No one's saying that. We're just … Mr. Young, when is the last time you saw Mark?"

"Yesterday morning. He came by, got something to eat, and he left. I mean, at this age, I can't keep track of him."

"Hey, believe me, I understand. I've been there," Nick said with a slight, understanding smile.

"Mr. Stokes, my son is not a criminal."

"We're not saying he's a criminal."

Sara wanted to roll her eyes. If Nick kept this up, they'd ever get the interview done. "All we're saying is that your son had contact with the victim and now he's missing. What we'd like to do is to get a warrant to search your house."

"A warrant?" Mr. Young exclaimed.

"But, maybe we don't need one," Nick said quickly, trying to smooth over the situation. "If we could just come by there and collect some of Mark's things, we could get a DNA sample, exclude him as a suspect …"

"You can take whatever you want. Mark didn't hurt that girl."

"And, this is how we prove it," Nick said. "We'll be by later this afternoon, if that's okay with you."

"Fine," Mr. Young said, standing up. "Are we done here?"

"Yes," Nick said. "We'll contact you if we have more questions."

Mr. Young nodded, then left them alone in the lobby. Nick turned to Sara.

"What was that all about?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she shot back. "Nick, his son is our lead suspect in our murder investigation. We can't sit here and hold his hand on this!"

"It's his son, Sara. His son that he obviously loves very much. If we come down on him too hard, he's going to clam up on us, and we'll never get anything from him."

"I just hope you know what you're doing," Sara said.

"Yeah," Nick said, looking at her as though he'd never seen her before. "I hope you do, too."


October 2015

"I've got Madison Kent's medical records," Brass says, holding the file up as he joins Greg and Sara in the layout room. He grimaces at the autopsy photos spread on the table.

"Have you read them?" Sara asks.

Brass nods. "It looks like our little girl was a victim of abuse."

Sara's face falls. "Oh."

"Her autopsy suggests the same," Greg says. He shakes his head. "I don't understand it. Aren't the doctors legally bound to report all potential abuse?"

"Yes," Brass says. "But – and this is the part that truly makes me sick – it would appear that Madison's abusers were aware of that, and made sure that all her injuries could be construed as accidental."

"That tallies with what Doc Robbins found," Sara says. "For example, twist fractures are very common in abuse victims, but she only has the sort of fractures you'd get from falling down."

"Exactly," Brass agrees. "I've called the mom in for questioning. She should be here in half an hour. Want to come with?"

"Yes," Sara says at once.

Greg looks at her. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Yes."

Recognizing the stubborn look in her eyes, he sighs. "I'll come, too."

He'll let her do it, but not alone.


October 2003

The green "something" that Sara had pulled from Sophia Renatta's hair turned out to be algae. Although Hodges was able to identify it and provide them with a map that showed where it could be found in Lake Mead, Sara and Nick found it to be less than helpful.

"This algae grows everywhere," Sara said, dropping her head into her hands as she and Nick studied the map Hodges had given them.

"A waverunner … point and throttle," Nick said, feeling as hopeless as Sara did. He sighed. "We have no idea where they went."

"Heard you guys narrowed your search area to forty-four square miles," Greg said from the layout room doorway. "That could take, like, months."

Sara glared at him.

"And, I'm sure you're here to shed some light on the situation," Nick said.

Greg walked into the room. "Your case is a boy-girl thing, right?"

"Right," Nick replied.

"Mm-hmm," Sara said, still mildly irritated with his jovial attitude in the face of their hopelessness.

"Body was washed up near Windmill Cove?" Greg continued.

"Mm-hmm," Nick confirmed.

Greg pointed to two coves on the map. "These two coves to the north – Cotton Wood Island, Tequila – huge make-out spots. But, nearly impossible to get to by land."

Sara couldn't stop the question. "And, how would you know that, Greg?"

Greg gave her a flirty smile. "A gentleman never tells." He winked. "Anyway, I thought that would be a good place to start. If you guys need an extra set of hands …"

"Uh, no," Nick said. "No, I think we've got it, boss."

Greg mouthed "call me" at Sara and held his hand up as if it were a phone. She smiled and shook her head.

"Poor guy," Nick said. "He's got it for you bad."

Sara blushed. "I don't know about that."

"Aw, look who's being modest," Nick teased. "Come on. Let's go explore Greg's make-out spots."


Greg's suggested route took them to the missing waverunner. They found evidence that Mark and Sophia had been there, and that they had walked up the hill. Following their footprints, Sara and Nick found a cliff that dropped straight into the water.

"That's got to be a fifty foot drop," Sara said.

"Yeah, but when you're young, it just looks like a whole lot of fun," Nick said.

"Not for Sophia," Sara replied.

"What are you thinking? That he pushed her in?" Nick asked.

"Makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Well, her footprints end here," Nick said. "So, whether she jumped on her own or was pushed, it's pretty safe to say she went over the cliff. And, if that's where she died … the evidence isn't up here. It's down there."

"We need search divers," Sara said. "I'll make the call."


Nick and Sara's divers found plenty of algae-covered rocks that could have broken Sophia's neck. They also found Mark Young's body.

"Oh, man," Nick said. "His poor dad."

Sara shook her head. "What's he doing down there?"

"Do you think we're looking for another person?"

"Well, when two people who just met wind up dead in the same place … it makes sense, right?"

Nick nodded slowly. "Let's see what Doc Robbins can tell us."


Doc Robbins confirmed that Mark Young had drowned in the lake. He also showed them Mark's burst eardrum, indicating that he had descended rapidly before drowning. Understanding dawned on Nick's face.

"She went in first," he said. "When she didn't come up, he got worried, and he jumped in after her. His eardrum burst while he was trying to find her, and the pain was too intense. He couldn't get up for air again." He shook his head. "This was an accident, Sara. He was trying to save her."

"That's a great theory. But, we can't prove that."

"Twenty-six feet under with a busted eardrum?" Nick asked incredulously. "If not to save her, why dive that deep?"

"I don't know," Sara conceded. "Case is over."

"Almost over."

She frowned.

"I want to get Mark's dad what happened. He'll want answers."

"Stick to the evidence, Nick. No sugar-coating."

Nick held her eyes for a moment. "I'll see you later."


October 2015

"Hi, Ms. Kent," Brass says as he, Sara and Greg enter the interrogation room. "These are two of our Crime Scene Investigators, Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders."

"Hello," she says.

"I know this is tough, but we have a few more questions about what happened to Madison," Brass says. "We're trying to put all the pieces together, and, I have to say, the picture isn't all the pretty."

"My daughter is dead," Debbie Kent replies. "How could that be pretty?"

"Well, it's just …" Brass began. "You told us that you found her unresponsive."

"That's right." She shakes her head. "You always think there's no way your baby could die in her crib until …"

"This wasn't SIDS," Sara breaks in. "Our coroner found that Madison's neck was broken."

Debbie looks at them with teary eyes. "What?"

"Her medical records show a lifetime of abuse," Sara continues, her voice becoming harder with each word. "Would you like to explain that?"

"Children … they fall a lot," Debbie says.

"Not when they're only a month old," Sara says, her eyes glinting with anger. "They can't fall when they're only a month old."

Greg puts his hand on her arm and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. "Ms. Kent, did you ever do anything, either intentionally or unintentionally, to hurt your child?"

"No! I love Maddie! I'd never hurt her!"

"Tell us about your boyfriend," Brass says.

She blinks. "Jason? What about him?"

"Is he Madison's father?"

"Yes. We're not married, though … he's not ready for the responsibility."

Sara just stops herself from rolling her eyes.

"Does he live with you?"

"He did," she says. "Six months ago, I asked him to leave."

"Why?"

She draws a deep breath. "I didn't like the way he was being with Maddie."

"What do you mean by that?" Greg asks.

"He … he would punish her … harshly."

"Would he hit her?" Greg asks.

She looks down and nods. "That's why I made him move out. I didn't want her treated that way."

"Was he visiting last night?" Brass asks.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me that yesterday?"

"I didn't think it was important. He was gone by the time I found Maddie."

"Was he alone with her yesterday?" Sara asks.

"Yes." Her tears spill over. "He – he tucked her in last night. She had been so difficult all day long, and I just … I needed a break. I didn't want to fight with her to put her to bed. So, he said he'd do it for me."

Sara, Brass and Greg exchange a look.

"What are you saying?" Debbie nearly screams. "Do you think he killed her while he was tucking her in?"

"We need to talk to him," Brass says.

"No! No, he couldn't! Maddie is his daughter! He has a temper, but he loves her. He loves her!"

As Debbie Kent dissolves into sobs, Sara's eyes fill with tears. She thinks of her own mother, and the pain that she endured – that they both endured – at her father's hands.

"Excuse me," she murmurs, standing up.

She needs to get out of the interrogation room. She can't take this anymore.


October 2003

Sara heard Nick's voice before she even saw him.

"I think he died trying to save someone's life," he was saying.

Sara turned the corner and saw him talking to Mr. Young.

"Thanks," Mr. Young said.

"No, it's my pleasure," Nick replied.

Mr. Young shook his hand and left the lobby.

"Hey, Nick," Sara said as she joined him.

He picked up his messages off the counter, then fell into step with Sara. "Hey."

"What are you doing?" Sara asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What did you tell him? That his son died a hero?"

"Look, I'm just trying to give the guy a little peace, you know?"

"Oh, well, who are you trying to help feel better? Him or you?" Sara asked.

"Hey, let me ask you something, Sara," Nick said, his irritation evident. "You're Mr. Young. Would you rather know this much or nothing at all?"

"You know, if the evidence doesn't support the answer, a CSI shouldn't be asking that question."

"Well, okay, if that works for you," Nick said.

Sara thought of Susanna. She thought of Pam Adler. She knew what it was like to get too attached to the victims. "Be careful," she said.

Nick walked away without answering.

Even as she continued walking, Sara couldn't help but feel concerned. Nick's heart was so big. She didn't want to see it broken by their job.

But, at the same time …

His big heart was exactly the reason she should be promoted over him. She could detach now. She had learned to play by Grissom's rules. She was the better candidate.

She couldn't wait to get the good news.


October 2015

"Are you okay?"

Sara looks up from her spot sitting on the sidewalk outside PD to see Greg standing over her. "Yeah," she replies.

Greg sits down next to her. "Do you want to talk?"

Sara shakes her head. "I … I really just want to go home, if it's all the same to you."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I'll drive you back to CSI so you can get your car."

She nods. "Thanks."

"Do you want me to drive you the whole way home? Or, to call Grissom so he can come and get you?"

Sara shakes her head. "Anna's still asleep; I don't want him to have to wake her up early just to pick me up. I'd rather drive myself anyway. It'll help me clear my head."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Let's go back to CSI."


October 2003

At the end of their shift, Sara and Grissom both rushed out of the lab. Sara drove home quicker than she had in ages, nearly ran into her apartment and dove straight into the shower. She had to get ready for dinner at Grissom's place.

Grissom stopped at the grocery store on his way home. He was planning to make Sara eggplant parmesan, and wanted to make sure he had all the ingredients.

Once home, he straightened up his already clean house, then got to work on their food. The house was just beginning to smell like an Italian restaurant when he heard Sara's knock on the door. Grinning, he went to let her in.

"Hi," he said as he opened the door.

"Hi," she replied. She held out a bottle of red wine as she crossed the threshold. "I thought I'd contribute something to our meal."

Grissom smiled and took it from her. "Thanks. This will be perfect."

"It smells great in here," Sara said, following him into the kitchen.

"Eggplant parmesan," he said. "You like it, right?"

"I love it."

Sara watched as he put the wine on the counter. He was going to get a corkscrew when his eyes caught hers. Realizing that he couldn't wait another moment, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. He leaned down as if to kiss her, but paused.

"May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"No," Sara whispered. "I'm going to kiss you."

Grissom barely had time to register her words before her lips landed on his. Everything that had happened – the dead baby, negligent parents, trying to decide which CSI to promote – flew out of his head. All that mattered was that she was in his arms, kissing him senseless.

When he was with Sara, the day seemed to melt away.


October 2015

When Grissom woke up, he was alone in bed. He sighed, thinking that Sara had clearly not had the easy shift she had been anticipating. He took a quick shower, then went to start breakfast before he had to wake Anna for school.

As he passed Anna's bedroom, he was surprised to see the door wide open. He remembered closing it almost completely the night before; Anna always had a hard time falling asleep when she could still hear him or Sara awake in the house. Frowning, he stepped into her room.

Anna was sound asleep in her bed, clutching the stuffed bear that she had received as a gift from Greg when she had been born. She was not, however, alone in her room. Sara was sitting on the floor beside her bed, her knees drawn up under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs.

"Hey," he whispered.

Sara looked up at him with haunted eyes. Without a word, she stood and walked into his open arms.

Grissom held her tightly, trying to dispel whatever horrors had been a part of her night. Once she stopped trembling, he directed her out of Anna's room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked as he closed Anna's door again.

"Dead baby," she whispered.

"Oh, Sara."

"She was only thirteen months old," she said. "Her father was abusive."

"Honey …"

"Gil, I love you," she said, her tears finally spilling over. "You are the most wonderful man, the most wonderful father and husband … I don't know how I can be so lucky."

Grissom pulled her into his arms again. "I love you, too, Sara. And, I love Anna. You two are my heart and soul, and I'd be lost without you. I could never do anything to hurt either of you." He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. "Sara, you deserve this. Our marriage, our daughter, our home, our life together – you deserve it all. Luck had nothing to do with it. Someone like you, with such a big heart … it was meant to be shared and loved."

She leaned up to kiss him. "I love you," she said again. "You are the reason I can make it through cases like this. I always know that I can come home to you at the end of the day, and that you'll make me feel like there's some good in the world."

"There is plenty of good in the world," Grissom said. "If you need further proof of that, go back into Anna's room." He smiled and ran his the back of his fingers down Sara's cheek. "She's my faith in humanity come to life."

"I don't know what I'd do without either one of you."

Grissom kissed her again. "You'll never have to find out."