Some of the characters and situations in this story belong to Alliance Atlantis, CBS, Anthony Zuicker and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. Others strongly resemble characters that sort of belong to ABC, though I seriously doubt anyone cares at this point. The rest belong to me, and if you want to play with them, you have to ask me first. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.

Spoilers: general fifth season through "Unbearable"

Note: this is a sequel to "Rollercoaster", which really should be read first. It is an AU futurefic that includes a number of original characters.

Many, many thanks to Trialia, who reassured me again, and Cincoflex, the best of betas--there is no treasure like an editor who is not afraid to say what they think!

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They'd gotten into the habit of calling each other on evenings when they hadn't managed to get together, but it still took Grissom two days to muster the courage to ask. Coward, he scoffed at himself. She has more guts than you'll ever have. But, he had to admit, that had always been true.

"So," Sara was saying in his ear, "the new machine can run samples in a third of the time of the old one, except we're having trouble getting funding for it. Greg's gonna laugh at me, because you know you guys are going to get one first."

"Of course," Grissom replied, smiling a little, and then forced the words out. "Sara, come to California with me for Christmas."

The sound Sara made wasn't quite a sputter, but neither was it a word. Grissom winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. Would you like to spend Christmas with me at my mother's house?"

"I--I--" She pulled in a deep breath. "Grissom, I don't know sign language!"

He took heart; if that was her main objection-- "Mom can read lips. And I can teach you a little between now and then, if you want."

"Um, does she--I mean--"

He really had flustered her. Grissom smiled more broadly at the ceiling; he usually lay back on his bed for these nighttime conversations, shyly pretending that she was lying next to him rather than sitting in a townhouse miles away. "I asked her if she'd mind having an extra guest, and she said you were welcome."

In fact, his mother had been both intrigued and a little wary, but had acquiesced without hesitation. He hadn't given her a lot of detail about why he'd abruptly decided on a leave of absence, but she did know the reason he was on the East Coast.

He sighed. "I meant to ask you in person, but I won't see you until Friday, and if you want to get reasonable tickets..."

"No, I understand," she replied, sounding a bit calmer.

"If you need time to think about it--"

"No," she said again, her voice lower. "I'd like to go with you, Gil. I'd like to meet your mother."

His eyes closed briefly, his shoulders relaxing back into the pillow in relief. "Good. I--I'm glad."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Sara spoke again, sounding a little amused. "Are you sure you want me to meet her? She might tell me all your secrets."

He snorted. "Every nine years and thirty-four days, I feel like sharing." And grinned at her chuckle. "I'm a little ahead."

x

It had been several hours since Grissom's surprising invitation, but the back of Sara's mind was still turning the idea over, humbled by the trust implied, while her main attention was taken up by evidence files. Her concentration was finally broken by the knock on her door, and she looked up. "'M imph," she said around the pen between her teeth, and her brother pushed open the door, carrying a tray.

"Dinner break," he informed her with almost menacing cheerfulness.

She spat the pen out onto the desk. "What time is it?"

"About midnight." Ed surveyed the litter of papers, photos, and files that covered her desk, and kicked a small footstool closer so he could put the tray on it. Sara glanced down at the food; sliced fruit, cheese and tomato sandwiches, and coffee.

She picked up the mug. "Thanks, Ed. You're a lifesaver."

"Eat, and I'll take the tray back down," he suggested, sitting down on her bed and stretching a little. Sara took a gulp of coffee and picked up a sandwich; they'd done this sort of favor for each other more times than she could count, the past few years. "How's it going?"

"Slowly," Sara said around a mouthful, "but it's going."

Ed nodded, and shoved a pillow against the headboard so he could lean back. "I've been meaning to ask, how's this 'friendship' thing working out with the Doc?"

Sara felt her face heat a little, and Ed chortled. "That's what I thought."

She shot him a "don't push it" look. "We're making it work, so far."

His expression softened. "Good. He's good for you."

"He asked me to go with him to see his mother for Christmas," she added, but to her disappointment, Ed didn't look surprised. Instead, a wide grin creased his face.

"Cool. He's gotta be serious if he's taking you to meet the 'rents. Or 'rent, in this case."

"Moving halfway across the country wasn't serious enough?" Sara asked wryly, and Ed cocked a brow at her.

"'Bout time you asked that question."

xxxx

Three days later, Grissom punched in the number for the Sidles' home line, slightly puzzled by the fact that Sara's phone was apparently "outside the service area". They were supposed to meet up for dinner that evening, and yet when he'd called to confirm the time, he hadn't been able to get a hold of her, and the message he'd left had not been returned.

The phone rang twice before Ed answered, his cheerful "Yello?" sounding less abstracted than usual.

"Hello, Ed," Grissom replied. "It's Grissom, is Sara available?"

"Oh, hey man, I'm glad you called," Ed said. "Sara had to fly up to Cleveland, some kind of Bureau thing, and her phone quit working on her." Grissom heard the faint rustle of paper under Ed's voice. "She wanted me to call you and tell you she had to cancel, but I cannot find your number."

Grissom had to chuckle at that. Sara was accurate in calling her brother absent-minded; Ed's science was razor-sharp in its precision, but anything outside of that besides the welfare of his children easily got lost in the thickets of the man's brain. "Did she tell you why she had to go?"

The noise Ed made was equivalent to a shrug. "Nope. Probably classified or something. Sorry."

Amusement faded into disappointment. Grissom understood the demands of government work--none better--but that didn't mean he couldn't feel the loss of an evening spent with Sara. "All right. Thanks."

"Hey, want to come over here instead?" Ed asked. "Kimmy's at a Scout overnighter and Joey's spending the night with a friend. We could order in pizza and discuss the vagaries of women." He snickered. "Or just watch my tape of the 2004 World Series final."

The idea was unexpectedly appealing. "Sure. I'll bring the beer."

It was a little odd to be walking into the Sidle house knowing that Sara was not there, but Ed had the knack of making one feel welcome, and formality was discarded as the pizza arrived and Grissom and Ed spread out on the couch, munching heavily pepperonied pie and arguing baseball. Ed didn't eat his crusts, which amused Grissom; when he finally broke down and asked why, Ed shrugged.

"One of the privileges of being an adult is I only have to eat something if I damn well feel like it. Except in front of the kids, of course."

Grissom laughed again. "Sounds like a conspiracy."

Ed, sprawled out so limply that Grissom wondered how he could eat without spilling, tossed a balled-up paper napkin in Grissom's general direction. "Breathe a word to the spawn, and we'll have to eliminate you."

The phone interrupted them in the middle of the seventh inning, and Ed heaved himself off the couch and went to answer it, while Grissom fumbled for the remote to stop the tape. The sound cut off just in time for him to overhear Ed's voice going from casual to deadly serious. "What? Slow down. Where are you?"

Grissom sat up straight, dire possibilities racing through his mind--Sara, the children--

"Are you all right?" Ed demanded, and paused to listen. "No, don't be an idiot. No, of course not. I'm coming to get you, you hear? Stay there...no, stay there. It's not a problem."

Not Sara, then, Grissom deduced, and judging from Ed's tone and phrasing, not his children either. The next most logical choice was--Gracie.

He eyed the coffee table, cluttered with paper napkins and plates, the pizza box, and bottles. Grissom had drunk a beer and a half, so far; Ed had had one more than that. The course of action was obvious.

When Ed hung up and turned around, he seemed a little surprised to see Grissom wearing his jacket and pulling out his car keys. "You don't have to leave," he said. "Stay and finish the pizza at least."

Grissom shook his head, and tossed Ed's jacket to him. "You've had more than two beers." The scientist was most likely unimpaired, but Grissom didn't see why taking the chance should be necessary. "I'm driving."

Ed caught the jacket, gaping a little, and Grissom raised an impatient brow. "Where are we going?"

Ed shook himself, and headed for the stairs to the garage, shrugging into the jacket. "Inova Hospital."

They were on their way, Grissom driving fast but carefully through the cold night, before he asked. "What happened?"

Ed blew out a breath. "It's nothing really serious. Grace slipped on some stairs and broke her wrist, simple fracture. She was calling to tell me she couldn't come by tomorrow to clean, can you believe it?" He shook his head in irritation. "She was going to take the bus home from the emergency room. Stubborn woman."

Grissom knew Gracie had a car, an ancient Volkswagen hatchback that always looked as though it were about to fall apart, but figured that she had wisely not attempted to drive with a broken wrist. "A cab wasn't an option?"

"Nngh." Out of the corner of his eye, Grissom saw Ed run his hands through his hair, an exasperated gesture. "She's saving every cent she makes so she can finish up her bachelor's. You'd think that this would be an exception to the rule, but no…"

Grissom had to wonder why someone as motivated and intelligent as Gracie was only now completing college, but he didn't ask. "She's self-employed, correct? If she doesn't have health insurance, the emergency room trip alone could take a large bite out of her budget."

Ed's grumble subsided a little. "She does, but it's not very good insurance. Turn left at the next light." Grissom signaled to change lanes, and Ed went on. "It's just frustrating, that's all. She's brilliant--she could do so much. But she's stuck working her ass off cleaning other people's houses until she can scrape together the money to go back to school, and she's too damn proud to ask for help."

That matched the image of Gracie that Grissom had formed so far. She did things her own way and in her own time, much like a certain brunette he knew. It's no wonder they get along so well.

The conversation trailed off, though Ed kept muttering angrily to himself, speaking up to give Grissom further directions. The hospital wasn't far; fortunately for Ed's temper, there was little traffic and they made good time, but as Grissom pulled his car up outside the emergency room entrance, he wondered whether there was anything left of the temper as it was.

Gracie, the unnatural paleness of her face standing out against her hair, was waiting for them just inside the doors, a sling wrapped around her freshly casted arm. She looked pinched and weary, and didn't resist when Ed bounded out of the car and swept her into a warm and careful hug.

Within moments he was helping her into the passenger seat, ignoring her faint protest that he should have it given the length of his legs. As Ed climbed into the back seat, Gracie gave Grissom a tired smile. "Thanks for driving out here, Doctor G."

Grissom took the seatbelt buckle from her hand and fastened it for her. "Glad I could help."

Ed closed the car door. "Do you know how to get back from here?"

Before Grissom could reply, Gracie spoke up. "I'd rather just go straight home, Ed." She rubbed her forehead with her uninjured hand. "I'm really tired."

Grissom, glancing in the rear-view mirror, caught Ed's impatient look. "C'mon, Grace, of course you're staying the night. I can't let you go home alone when you're hurt."

"Ed--" Gracie started, but Ed cut in, impatient.

"Don't be dumb. You really want to go home to that tiny apartment you call home? How're you going to take a shower with that cast on?"

Oops. Grissom saw Gracie's face tighten. Even I know better than that.

"I'll manage," she said icily. "It's my home, after all."

Ed hissed. "Will you just be reasonable for once?

For an instant, Grissom thought Gracie was going to start yelling, but instead she set her jaw and stared straight out the windshield. "Doctor Grissom, would you please take me home?"

"Of course." Grissom started the engine and put the car into gear, ignoring Ed's sputter. "Which way do I go?"

The drive was a frozen silence, punctuated by Gracie's soft-voiced instructions. Grissom turned up the heat when he saw her shivering, and drove with care. It really would be smarter for Gracie to go home with Ed, particularly if she was going to take heavy painkillers, but he knew enough about pride to know that Ed had broken all hope of that.

When they reached her apartment building, Ed got out without a word, and Gracie too said nothing as he escorted her inside. Grissom wondered if Ed would be able to talk Gracie into letting him stay there as an alternative, but the scientist reemerged after a couple of minutes, face cold, and got back into the front passenger seat without a word.

They were almost halfway back to the Sidles' when Ed started ranting about stubborn women who had to go their own ways even if it killed them. Grissom kept his mouth shut and listened; even without his prior observations, it was obvious that Ed had set his sights on the independent redhead.

How Gracie felt about it, however, Grissom didn't know.

"And dammit, I want the woman, but she keeps saying she won't even consider dating anyone until she has her degree," Ed finished, frowning fiercely. "I'm afraid to even bring up the subject of dating."

"You know, if you really want her, pissing her off is probably not the best way to go about it," Grissom pointed out mildly.

"Oh, like you're such an expert," Ed snapped, then blew out his breath. "Geez. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

Grissom concentrated on his driving for a moment; the retort stung, because it was partly true. But I'm changing. "To win the right woman, one should study not all women, but make oneself the expert in her alone."

Ed raked a hand through his hair, and laughed ruefully. "Is that a quote?"

"More or less." Actually, Nick had said something like "Whattya need to know about women if you're in love? You only need to know one." But it's more fun to change it--I have a reputation to maintain, after all. "I don't think pushing is going to help, though."

Ed shrugged, a little petulantly, and slumped back in his seat. "Eh, I know. I just--I don't want to lose any more time, you know?"

Grissom did know. He didn't have a ghost reminding him of how much he had to lose, but he did know. I guess I just have more patience.

Tonight, that seemed like a good thing, but when he reflected on all his missed chances, he had to wonder.

xxxx

"All right, that's enough."

Sara stalked over to the door of her room and yanked it open. "What did I say?"

Joey looked up beseechingly on the other side. "I want to learn Essel too!"

"A-S-L, Joseph, and maybe if you ask nicely Doctor G will teach you. Later. Right now, this is my working time."

"But--"

She folded her arms, and Grissom, watching from her desk chair, felt he could afford to be amused at the contrast between the tall woman and the hopeful little boy; after all, he wasn't responsible for discipline. "What happens during my working time?"

Joey dropped his eyes and sighed. "No bugging you unless there's blood or fire or strangers."

"Right. No coming up the stairs unless it's an emergency. And tell your sister that if we want something to drink, we'll get it ourselves, okay?"

"Oh-kay." Joseph turned and dragged himself back down the stairs, and Sara shut the door firmly behind him. Grissom quickly schooled his expression back towards polite interest; Joseph's interruption, the third since they'd come upstairs, had stretched Sara's temper a little.

"It's you they want to see, not me," Sara grumbled, dropping back into the overstuffed chair opposite his. Grissom put on a fake-modest look.

"What can I say, I'm a popular guy."

As he'd hoped, this made Sara laugh. "Show me the sign for 'decide' again."

Grissom demonstrated, and had the small thrill of reaching out to correct the position of Sara's hands as she worked to copy him. She was as quick a student with American Sign Language as she was with forensics, and it was a bit embarrassing to Grissom to realize how rusty he was with only using it once or twice a year.

"Again, expression has a lot to do with context," he coached, signing along with his words. "You wouldn't use the same expression for 'I've decided to go to the movies' as you would for 'Have you come to a decision'."

Sara's eyes were narrow with concentration as she tried to follow his movements. "It's the grammar that's throwing me off," she murmured, repeating his example question, and then belatedly rearranged her features into a look of inquiry. The slight exaggeration of the expression made Grissom want to laugh, but he held it in.

"Good. Like anything else, it takes practice." He kept signing, making his movements slow so she could watch. "Mom won't expect you to sign with her, you know."

Sara bit her lip, and then signed "I know" with the hesitancy of a novice. Her hands jerked a couple of times, and then she let them drop into her lap, defeated in her search for words. "It just seems polite."

Grissom smiled. He didn't think courtesy was the only thing driving the insatiably curious Sara. "Trust me, if you can say 'hello' when you meet her, she'll be delighted."

Sara thought for a moment, then gave him a puckish look, and signed "hell" followed by the letter O.

A surprised laugh escaped him; swearwords had been one of the things Sara had wanted to learn, along with some of the more common phrases of greeting and necessity. "Somehow, I don't think that would shock her."

Sara snorted, and flexed her fingers. "Grissom, she raised you. By this point she has to be pretty unshockable."

He raised a brow. "You're right." Reaching out, he took her hands and began rubbing them gently with his thumbs. "If it wasn't dissections in the back shed, it was anatomy books on the front table when my aunts came for lunch. Aunt Patty, in particular; I'll admit to having deliberately left a couple out just to get her goat."

Her snicker was music to his ears. Sara laced her fingers with his, and tugged, pulling his forearms from where they rested on his knees. Grissom blinked, not certain what she had in mind, but when she leaned forward in turn to touch her lips to his, he was delighted to go along.

Her mouth was so soft. No other woman he'd ever kissed was like Sara; none of them, not one, was such a perfect fit, such an enticing taste. Grissom slid to his knees in front of her chair, pressing closer, and Sara shook her hands free of his and cupped them around his head. Her mouth traveled along the edge of his beard, leaving tiny kisses, and Grissom, dizzy with bliss, laid his arms along the outside of her thighs and let her do it.

"Wanted to do that...since you grew it," Sara muttered in his ear, and Grissom turned his head so he could reciprocate along the delicate line of her jaw.

"Wanted to do that since I met you," he managed as he reached her chin. Sara still had hold of his head, and she dipped her own until their mouths met again. He was just about to make more of the kiss when a crackle of static broke into their concentration.

"Pizza's here," Ed's voice said cheerfully from the intercom.

Sara made an inarticulate noise, and then they pulled back, blinking at each other, breath coming fast. After a moment Sara sighed. "He always had the worst timing," she grumbled, and released him, but Grissom got the feeling that she was at least in some way relieved at the interruption.

He almost was, himself. It had always been obvious, at least to him, that their attraction would be electric if they got that far, and he didn't want to rush Sara or push her into anything uncomfortable. He ignored his hindbrain, which was clamoring for him to pick up where they'd left off, and sat back on his heels, removing his hands to the safer territory of the arms of Sara's chair.

"I'm given to understand that siblings often do," he said, and cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at the faint hoarseness in his voice.

Sara pursed her lips, but the smile survived; Grissom was absurdly pleased to see that her cheeks were still faintly flushed. "Spoken like an only child," she drawled, and Grissom had to chuckle. He pushed to his feet and held out a hand.

"Past experience tells me that if we don't get down there now, Kimmy will eat all the anchovies."

Sara put her hand in his and let him pull her up. "Most kids are picky eaters, and Ed goes and has one that eats everything..." she complained, and turned for the door.

But she kept hold of Grissom's hand, and he followed.

See Chapter 11