A/N: Thanks for reading!

Murder Without Guilt Chapter 21

Catherine came out of her chair and around the desk in seconds. "Sara's just announced her news—look at you—pleased as a cat with a bowl of cream!" She hugged Grissom and he kept smiling.

To Sara, he mouthed "twins" and she shook her head.

Catherine was giddy, talking so fast that neither Sara nor Grissom could say anything. "We need to celebrate! Can I tell everyone? What's your due date? Oh, Sara, I hope you'll keep working—I'll keep you in the lab. Gil, how long has it been since we had a baby in the lab? Years, I'm sure. Remember the lab tech—oh, that's been at least ten years ago—she went into labor one night and everyone took her to the hospital. When we got back, you and Brass were the only ones here!" She turned to Sara and hugged her. "Look at you—how far along? Everything's okay—I haven't noticed you being sick—or maybe morning sickness happens after you leave?" She pulled away from Sara and quickly hugged her again. "I'm so happy! Do you want a girl or boy? It doesn't matter, does it? Just a healthy baby, right!"

Every time Sara tried to answer a question, Catherine asked another one without pausing. Grissom finally interrupted her. "We want to have a party—maybe dinner for everyone—and make an announcement. But Sara wanted to tell you first."

"I'm the first to know?" If possible, her smile broadened. "I'm first! Does that mean I get to be godmother too? Is it impolite to ask to be godmother? I don't care—I've known you two longer than anyone else, so I get to be godmother!" She made an excited shrug of her shoulders and giggled. "The clothes—oh, Sara, please find out if you're having a girl or boy—there are places selling exquisite baby clothes!"

Again, Sara tried to respond and failed. It was Grissom, laughing and shaking his head as he touched Catherine's shoulder, that quieted her. "Catherine—Catherine—we don't want everyone to know for another week or so. So can you pretend you don't know?"

Catherine asked, "How far along? I remember being exhausted for weeks with Lindsay—and I was young!" Her hand covered her mouth quickly before she added, "Every pregnant woman needs rest—lots of rest." She glanced at Grissom. "Do you understand that?"

When Sara stated her due date, Catherine's eyes widened with surprise. Sara quickly explained. "We wanted results of certain tests—which we have now. And," she drew out the word, "we are not revealing gender. We want a surprise—we don't get many surprises in life."

Grissom's arm went around Sara. "Isn't she amazing?" Sara breathed with relief as she realized Catherine had forgotten most of the questions she had rattled off. She was asking Grissom about his research project and a few minutes later, she left to find Nick and Greg.

Sara kissed Grissom as he prepared to leave. He said, "Doc Robbins says the guy we're seeing is a real stud with this robotic surgery—that's medical jargon for 'knows what he's doing'—and he is going to make a few calls."

Sara sensed some of the stress had lifted from Grissom. She said, "Did you tell him about—about me?"

"He had already guessed—heard you in a bathroom one morning and decided only one thing was likely to make you queasy." He kissed her cheek. "Nothing wrong with his hearing or his perception—and he'll keep secrets for both of us."

Both doctors had agreed, without collaboration, of the need for a second opinion. And in the way that one physician knows of another or knows a friend who has a network of associates, Grissom received a phone call from a doctor in San Francisco whose practice was associated with one of the top five prostate treatment centers in the country. And in a week, they had an appointment at one of the most successful clinics in the world.

San Francisco had always been a favorite place, both remembering details of the time they met and wandered the streets as tourist and guide. "I knew I loved you that day," Sara laughed as they climbed the street to Coit Tower. She had refused the offer of a taxi. "We should walk—like we did the first time!"

Grissom remembered the first time he had tried to keep up with this long-legged brunette and it had not been easy, but today they lingered at street corners with scenic views, watched parrots fly from trees, and stopped to follow their noses to a small bakery where they purchased two hot-from-the oven muffins. They had gotten to the city as most commuters headed to work, checked into their hotel, and eaten breakfast as the city came to life. Their appointment was late afternoon and both seemed determined to enjoy the day.

They walked around the base of the tower and read the titles of books painted in one mural and admired the muscles of farmers in another. They pretended it was easy to laugh, easy to be distracted from the reason they were in the city. At the top of the tower they had another tourist take their photograph with the famous bridge in the background—instead of taking one, the young man encouraged them to laugh and pressed several times in rapid succession. Descending the hill, they used steps that dropped steeply passed cottages and gardens tucked and clinging to the hillside. It was a longer walk, but much easier, to return to the hotel along the bay and Sara managed to eat as she walked. She ate a sweet caramel tamale from a small Mexican food cart, a Buddha bun from a Chinese café, and selected six pieces of exquisite chocolate candies in a candy store.

Grissom laughed as he paid for the chocolates hoping the food would add weight to her slim frame.

Their meeting with the well-known doctor confirmed what they already knew—Gleason score, grading, biopsy results. He reviewed the ultrasound and showed an additional area of concern. This doctor said "there is a thirty percent chance the cancer has spread outside the margins of the prostate."

Hearing his words was a sucker punch, and an unexpected blow that added to the extreme pressure to make a decision quickly. After the appointment, they tried to eat dinner at one of the organic vegetarian restaurants near the hotel, but ended up pushing more food around the plates than they ate. An hour later they were back in their hotel room, exhausted from what they had heard, stretched across the wide bed in a room with a beautiful view they could not enjoy.

"I've got to get the cancer out, Sara. More than anything, I want to be around to see our kids grow up." Grissom voice hesitated for several seconds before continuing, "We can't keep reading, putting off this decision." He reached an arm around and tucked her between his arm and chest. "I like the doctor in Vegas—I believe he will do the best that can be done. If—if this has spread, then we will be at home where we have friends—the family we've made. We won't have to travel back and forth." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm going to have robotic surgery—and deal with other possible outcomes afterwards."

Sara turned her face to his, kissing his chin before he tucked his head to reach her lips. "We'll deal with it," she whispered. Sara realized a second opinion had added to their knowledge and confidence in the specialist in Vegas; she knew Grissom needed to be comfortable with the person who would be performing an extremely delicate, life-saving procedure.

They drifted to sleep, still wearing their clothes, lying on top of the covers. Which is why Sara woke up in the middle of the night—Grissom, mostly asleep, was struggling with the duvet, tangling in the sheet, and grumbling. She managed to unbuckle his belt and pulled his pants off before he was awake enough talk.

"We went to sleep in our clothes," he said, stating what was obvious, as Sara reached to pull his shirt over his head.

Sara returned from the bathroom to find he had quickly returned to sleep, snuggled underneath covers in the middle of the bed. She crawled into the bed and burrowed next to his warm body, nuzzling her face against his soft tee-shirt. She didn't return to sleep for a while; she had been hesitant to give her thoughts on this cancer to Grissom as it had to be his decision. But tonight, she felt he had made the right decision. If the cancer had spread, he would have additional treatment options. One statement from the expert remained in her mind—Grissom had excellent blood flow, his arteries were those of a healthy forty year old which lessened his chances for incontinence and erectile dysfunction. This doctor had also encouraged the banking of sperm when he learned Sara was pregnant.

"It will give an option for more children," he advised. He had also asked about frequency, duration, and rigidity of Grissom's erections which had brought an unexpected laugh from both.

Sara had answered: "Good—really good. Always when he wakes up," she glanced at Grissom who remained silent, waiting for her description. "Full salute," she moved her hand upward. At that, Grissom had chuckled. The doctor smiled, nodding, "That's a good sign" he said.

With those thoughts, Sara brought her hand to Grissom's chest and placed it above his heart. She kissed his jaw below his ear and took a deep breath. She loved the smell and taste of him, the feel of his skin against hers. He shifted slightly and she slipped her knee between his legs, and, in his sleep, his arm wrapped around her.

The next morning, Grissom called the young physician in Vegas and scheduled an appointment.

Two days later, they invited the grave-shift team to dinner. They would make an announcement, they decided, telling everyone of the pregnancy, but not of twins, and, perhaps, Grissom said, he would reveal his cancer. Sara would let him decide who to tell—he had always been so private about his personal life.

As they prepared lasagna and several salads for dinner—they had decided to invite Nick, Greg, Catherine, and Jim an hour earlier than everyone else—Grissom said, "I'm going to tell them I'm having surgery. The others can find out later, but for now, they need to know—you know, in case you have to miss." He stopped what he was doing. "I don't know, Sara. For the first time in my life, I'm…"

"Gil," Sara said, softly, "I'm taking off whatever time is needed—not on call, off. This is our priority right now—you are my priority."

He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. "It should be the other way around, you know—you," he smiled. "Having twins—we'll be fine." She leaned to his face and kissed him. He grinned, saying "Don't start anything we don't have time to finish!"

Sara giggled. "We want to keep your blood flowing." She kissed him again—and the doorbell rang. She pulled away. "Company's here!"

Their four long-time friends did not just walk into a room—their laughing chatter filled the house, their teasing banter rolling from one to another with an ease known to people who were more than friends but had a deep love for each other. Grissom did not have to ask who wanted a drink; he handed each person what they liked as they were greeting each other. Surprised to find others had not arrived, and saying so, Grissom quickly revealed the reason.

"We have a couple of things to tell all of you—first." He wrapped an arm around Sara and grinned. "Sara's pregnant," he announced.

Sara was amazed at the noise level as the three men shouted, laughed, slapped Grissom on the back and hugged her offering congratulations and other words of wishes. They quieted when Grissom held a hand up.

"We'll need your friendship and your support for what's going to happen in a few months," he said. "But before then, I'm having surgery and Sara's going to need your help for a few days while I recover."

Everyone's excitement calmed as worried frowns replaced smiles.

"I have cancer."

A/N: Thanks for reading-reviews appreciated, special thanks to you who always do! And some sweet stuff coming up now that we know Grissom's decision!