Notes: I'd love to hug all of you lovely readers; I continue to be amazed at your kind comments and your support of this story. I am certainly planning on continuing it for a long time; it's wonderfully challenging and fun to write. However, I feel I should let you all know that I will be going back to work full-time next month after working only part-time for the last two years and I will most likely begin to earn my Master's degree at the same time. Therefore, a bit more time may pass between updates, especially in the first few months of learning to adjust to full-time work, part-time school, and full-time motherhood. I shall certainly do my best to find the time to keep writing, (I must admit that I'm a bit addicted!). Anyway, this chapter finishes out Nora's first day home with Sara and Grissom. Enjoy!

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It was 6:00. Grissom had just pulled a scrumptious-smelling veggie lasagna out of the oven. Nora had been home for six hours and she had been in her room for the last five hours and fifty minutes, and neither Gil nor Sara had heard any noise at all coming from Nora's room- no muffled crying, no loud thuds from heavy objects making contact with the walls, no music, no nothing. They were starting to worry. The investigators in them concluded she was sleeping, but without being able to procure evidence to support their theory since they'd promised Nora privacy, they just couldn't be sure.

Not being sure Nora was asleep, they were hesitant to talk about her lest she somehow overheard. They hadn't been naïve enough to think they'd bring Nora home and continue life as they had previously known it, but somehow, they just hadn't realized just how hard it would be to have a simple conversation.

When the over timer announced the readiness of the lasagna, Grissom hadn't immediately silenced it. Under the cover of its relentless beeping, he said, "Do you think she's okay? Why don't you go knock on her door and invite her to dinner? I don't think she'll come out if I go to her door."

Sara walked over to turn the timer off; she was less concerned about Nora overhearing this conversation. After all, they were simply expressing concern for her well-being, and really, maybe it would be good for Nora to overhear. Plus, there was the fact that a bit of space and a few decently thick walls separated them from Nora, and unless her hearing was superhuman, she probably wasn't going to hear a quiet conversation anyway.

"I guess I should. I feel kind of stupid asking her to come to dinner, but I guess I know she won't if she isn't asked. I sure as hell would have just hid in my room. It was always so much easier to pretend I didn't exist than to pretend like I actually fit in with my foster families." Sara covered her face with her hands momentarily as she allowed unsettling memories of her first days in some of her foster homes to sweep through her mind. After rubbing her fingers firmly along her temples, Sara threw her hands out and abruptly turned to face her husband, declaring loudly as she pointed a finger at him, "We're GOOD, Gil. We're good people. We are."

Knowing that Sara was experiencing negative flash-backs into her foster child past, and therefore not needing to ask why Sara was nearly accusing him of being good, Grissom simply took Sara's pointing hand in both of his own and quietly said, "Sara. Listen to me. We are NOT like your foster parents. We ARE good people. Nora KNOWS that. She trusts you."

"Right." Sara's shoulders relaxed as she nodded with her eyes closed. "Right. Sorry. I just, God, Gil, I just HATED the first day."

"Grissom wrapped Sara in a tight hug, and as he rested his chin in her hair, he said, "I know you did, honey, and I'm sure Nora is struggling right now. I'm sure she needs you." After holding Sara close for several long, silent minutes, he asked, "So are you going to ask Nora to come out for dinner? You know, we're not asking her to let us adopt her tonight; you're simply asking her to eat. If you don't make it a big deal, maybe Nora won't feel so awkward about it."

Sara pulled away from Grissom and smiled shyly at him. "Sorry. Got a bit carried away."

"Never be sorry for having feelings, Sara. It's human nature. And besides, I love it when you get all compassionate on me." Grissom smiled cheekily at Sara and grabbed the cookie sheet of frozen garlic bread off the island. He was sticking in the oven as Sara made her way down the hall.

Sara stood outside the door to Nora's bedroom, working up the courage to knock and wondering why on earth she had it in her to chase after bad guys wielding guns but didn't have it in her to knock on a door in her own home. Eventually, she lifted a fist and knocked gently on the door, saying as she did so, "Nora? Are you awake?"

She heard a muffled reply. "Hmm?"

"Are you hungry? Gil just finished making dinner and we were hoping you'd like to eat with us." Sara stood, shoulders slumping further with every passing second in which she did not hear a reply. Nora had still been lying in bed, in the half-asleep, half-awake stage of consciousness achieved while trying to wake up from a deep sleep. She had heard Sara, but really couldn't bring herself to respond. After a long, slow stretch, Nora mustered up the energy to slide off the bed. She rubbed her eyes sleepily before opening the door and coming face to face with an obviously anxious Sara.

"Sorry." Sara stepped back. "I didn't mean to be in your face like that." She smiled tentatively and continued, "I just, well, Gil and I were just hoping you were hungry. Do you like lasagna?"

Nora nodded, suddenly feeling much too shy to respond. Those first couple meals with a new family were always torturous, but she knew as well as Sara did that the only way to get to a point where the "family" meals weren't torture was to just get the first few meals over with.

Grissom smiled at Nora as she entered the kitchen with Sara, but Nora didn't notice. She just couldn't bring herself to look at Grissom's face. Sara trusts him. He's a good man. Nora played this mantra over and over in her mind and truly wanted to believe it. She just needed time, or at least, that's what she hoped.

While Nora stared at her plate and occupied her time trying to make it look like she ate a reasonable amount (the lasagna was plenty tasty, but it was mightily difficult to eat when her stomach was constantly threatening to toss out its contents), Grissom and Sara attempted to maintain a stream of light conversation and banter. For the most part, they failed miserably; as it turned out, there seemed to be no workable conversation topics to be found- Sara could hardly talk about her latest case at work in front of Nora, Grissom hadn't yet started his new job, so that topic was a bust, and even if Nora had wanted to talk, asking her what school she went to would have been stupid because it was summer break and Nora had no current school, and the timing didn't seem right to start asking Nora what local school she wanted to attend come mid-August.

Grissom was the only one with an empty plate half an hour after the three sat down to dinner, but he recognized the fact that the ladies were just not going to eat. He stood up and picked up his plate. Sara followed suit. Grissom reached over to Nora's place at the table to take her plate, but Nora quickly stood, holding her own plate. She followed Sara and Grissom into the kitchen, discreetly knocked her lasagna into the garbage can, and turned toward the sink to rinse her plate. Sara had already turned on the water, and as she gently took Nora's plate from her, Nora noticed the terrarium sitting next to the sink that she had momentarily glimpsed earlier when she had first stepped foot into this new place. From the entryway, she had noticed that the tank wasn't an aquarium because it wasn't full of water, but she hadn't noticed earlier that the tank was full of something rather unattractive.

"Roaches?" Oh my God, did I just say that out loud?" Hearing Grissom and Sara both chuckle, Nora realized she had indeed just disgustedly blurted out that there were roaches sitting in front of her, like they were pets. Pet ROACHES. Nora's cheeks burned scarlet, and she was tempted to flee to her room, but hearing Grissom say, "Not just any roaches, Nora. These fellows are Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches" kept her rooted to her spot. Cockroaches? That sounds even nastier.

Nora stared, a grimace on her face, into the terrarium. Grissom joined her at the tank, and Nora was so busy freaking out about the fact that she was now living in a house with pet vermin to worry about Grissom's proximity. He pointed to a roach in the far corner of the tank and commented, "Do you see how this specimen has thicker, fuzzier antennae than this one over here?" He moved his finger to point to a roach sitting on what appeared to be a slimy chunk of banana.

Nora squinted. If she really tried to, she thought she could, in fact, see a difference in the antennae, but she couldn't bring herself to care about fuzzy antennae, so her reply of "Yea?" was both questioning and a little saucy.

"Well, the cockroaches with the fuzzier antennae are the males. This gentleman here," Grissom happily commented as he pointed to a rather large roach on a twig, "is my oldest and fastest specimen. He's won quite a few races in his day."

At that declaration, Nora couldn't help but look quizzically at Sara as if to say, "Does he really RACE roaches?" Sara laughed out loud, completely understanding Nora's expression. She said, "I actually did marry a guy who goes to bug racing conventions for fun. And don't even bother asking- no, it is so NOT normal, but hey, Gil's an entomologist. He's just wired to like our six-legged friends."

"What's an entomologist?" Again, Nora directed her words and her glance at Sara, but Sara looked over Nora to her husband to encourage him to answer.

Grissom took the hint and replied, "An entomologist is a scientist who studies insects."

"Oh. Okay." Clearly at a loss as to why anyone would want, or better yet, need to be an entomologist, Nora figured the best way out of this strange conversation would be to escape to her room, so she added, "Uh, I'm just going to go back to, um, the room. Good night."

Sara and Gil both noticed Nora's use of "the" instead of "my," but didn't correct Nora. Eventually, they both told themselves… someday, Nora would say "my." Sara leaned her head against Grissom's shoulder as she said, without thinking, "Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite!" Her brother, Ben, used to say that to her every night when they were kids, and Sara said it to Hank almost every night before she left for work.

Sara was so occupied with her embarrassment at having just said goodnight to Nora in the same way she said goodnight to her dog that she almost missed hearing Grissom call out, "Don't worry, I don't keep those as pets!"

Sara sure didn't miss hearing Nora's reluctant giggle as she disappeared through her bedroom door. At that particular moment, all three were thinking along the same lines. The quote that popped into Grissom's mind summed up the general feeling quite well: All good things arrive unto them that wait.