I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKK! First off let me apologize for the massive delay in posting this piece. My holiday season 2011 was exquisitely disorganized.

I was conducting a Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer auction on eBay (a word to the wise - don't put over 30 items on sale to end at the same time); I got sick halfway through that auction and a week before Xmas - stomach flu - in bed for 2 days, off work for a week; when I got back to work I was asked to do the entertainment for not one but two retirement parties with a due date of Jan 18. Working madly to create the entertainment (which includes massive amounts of of research) I was ready . . . and then we had a snow storm on Jan 18th so the party was pushed to Jan 20th - we had an ice storm on Jan 19th - I was stuck at home for 3 days. FINALLY, the party was held on Jan 26 and it was a success! Finally, I was free to get back to my story then . . . my boss tells me that the big boss is going to be coming around Jan 31 (today) to look at our graphs (of which I had fallen behind what with the party and all that). So, I worked through the weekend, got everything ready, had the walk-thru with the big boss today and HELLO, I'M BACK! (Watch. We'll probably lose power in the middle of all this.)

So, here it is. A bit long but I thought I should add extra for all my loyal readers who've been reminding me that you're all still out there patiently waiting. I completely appreciate that. Please know that I will never give up on this piece (especially since I already know the ending) even tho there may be patches where a bit of time passes between posts. (I'm putting that in in case I take a bit longer for Part 22 since I'm just now feeling out the draft. Sneaky, huh?)

I'm sending out a big THANK YOU to everyone.

Onward ~

Part 21 - 2 weeks later

Al Robbins

"Come on in and take a load off," Jim calls to me as I hobble through his doorway and into his office.

"I was hoping you'd ask," I say dropping into the offered seat, letting out a long breath.

"That bad, huh?"

"You have to ask?" He chuckles and pulls out a bottle of Scotch from a drawer along with two glasses. Filling them up he pushes one toward me. "I love a guy who's prepared," came out of me before downing it in one gulp. The burn makes me feel better.

"Oh, that is bad," he says refilling my glass. I take my time with this one.

"Bad oh bad, let me count the ways. David's out sick; Jimmy took a tumble on sight and twisted his knee; the new kid, Clarence, doesn't know which way is up and six people had the gall to get themselves killed in a bus accident thus clogging up my morgue and the hallway outside. Not to mention that Judy's birthday is in two days and I haven't the foggiest what to get her."

"You could give her a personal tour of the morgue when it's slow," he tells me with a wiggle of his brows. "Heard those rolling tables, even though cold, heat up real nice."

"Been there, done that. What else?" I ask as he shakes his head and grins.

"The woman has you. What else does she need?"

I smile. "Good answer. I'll be sure to tell her that when I walk out with nothing on but a bright red bow."

"You know I've missed this," he says and an eyebrow pops up my forehead. "It's usually Gil sitting where you are, swirling his drink, pondering the day's events. Together we try and figure out why people do what they do."

"Ever get any answers?"

"Not many," he replies sipping at his drink.

I stare off behind him. "I hope he's finding those answers now."

"I think he is. Slowly," he adds then grins again. "But then, slow is his middle name."

That draws a quick laugh from me and I shake my head. "I like to think of it as unhurried."

"I like that."

"The man's brilliant, Jim. You can't hurry brilliance."

"He's also a pain in the ass."

"As are we all at one time or another." He nods then and we both take a drink.

"I heard about the ferret," Jim goes on offering to refill my glass, corking up the bottle when I decline and secreting it back in his desk

"That bastard tried to bite me. I reacted is all."

"Boy, howdy, I don't want to be around you when you react."

"I can't help it if he wasn't faster than the bottom of my cane. It reminded me of that time Gil and I chased that rat all over the morgue."

"I heard the screams."

"That was us," I giggle finishing my drink, enjoying the sound of Jim's laugh.

"Hey, I've got an idea for Judy."

"Let me have it."

"I know someone who'll clean up your house for you in record time and she's cheap, too," he says as I give him a questioning look.

"Name please," I request already pulling out my pen.

"Oh, you don't need to write her name down."

"I don't?"

"Nope."

"I know her?"

"Very well." I frown then go through the rolodex in my head of females and draw a blank, giving him a shrug. "Did you know Sara is very neat?" he seriously asks.

Puzzlement gone, I can't help but chuckle. "Can't find anything can you?"

He vigorously shakes his head. "Not a thing. After she got out of the hospital she stayed with me for 24 hours. 24. I can't even imagine what she would've done with 48."

I laugh then and his scowl slowly transforms into a smile. "You love it."

"I just want to find my favorite mug. Is that asking too much?" Now I laugh even harder. "It's not funny."

"It was your Gene Autry mug wasn't it?"

He points at me. "I think she's in league with Grissom and his Roy Rogers fetish. I wouldn't put it past him to instill in her a love for that drugstore cowboy."

My eyes are tearing and it feels good. Today was barely a day for a weak twitch of the lips and this does me good. A good laugh shared by friends is one of the best things in the world.

"It was nice to see her back today," I finally say once I've gathered a breath. "Just a little limp leftover. Her hand still looks pretty bad but that'll heal. She was in good spirits."

"We got another Email from Annie," he says. "It was a good Email."

"Tell," I push leaning my elbows on his desk.

I'd managed to figure out that Jim was hearing something from out west and kept my eyes on him, latching on to every comment just to see if I could figure out what he was hiding. But he's a cop – a good cop – and I got nothing so when I couldn't stand it anymore, I asked him point blank. And he told me everything. Judy's right. Stop beating around the bush and just ask.

"It would seem our intrepid CSI has gone back to work," he informs me.

"LAPD?" I ask genuinely interested.

"Yep. As a consultant."

I frown. "Doesn't he have to go through psych to be reinstated?"

"For his regular job here, yes," he says with a nod. "Attaching 'consultant' to his position with Director Germen's name attached is like magic there. Poof! He's got clearance."

"Is that a good thing?" I ask holding Jim's gaze as he finishes his drink.

"He was in bad shape when he left but, the Fab Four have done wonders for him."

"You know that surprised me. Gil and fishing? Didn't sound like a good combination."

"It surprised me too. Sitting out there waiting for something to grab the bait seems like it would be too slow for him, not enough brain action to keep him occupied."

"That man does like to learn," I admit with a nod. "But then Gil's always been a mystery."

"I think he likes it that way. And I'm impressed that he got back on the horse. According to Annie it seemed to be a big decision for him, whether or not he wanted to keep doing what he's so good at. It's like he's testing the waters."

"I would expect nothing less," I say leaning back in my chair as Jim looks at me. "How would you feel if you'd asked a man to kill you and everyone knew about it?"

"Like I'd want to hide away forever."

"And this is Gil we're talking about. The man excels at everything. And he lost it. Not in the confines of his house but out in the open for all to see. I didn't think we'd ever seen him again. Thought he'd just disappear, tuck himself away somewhere and never come out."

"I believe that was his plan until the Fab Four got a hold of him. Things changed after that. Slowly, he's been getting better and now, his first steps back into the fold revolve around the thing that started it all. Jeremy Roberts."

A bomb going off in the lab wouldn't have surprised me as much as that. Jeremy Roberts. Sara had told me, in great detail, about the case and what happened (after I wheedled it out of her, of course).

"Don't tell Sara," Jim informs me with a pointed finger in my direction. "She doesn't need to know that at this point. I think it would be best coming from Gil."

"Cross my heart," I say, doing just that. "Man, when he dives in he doesn't shy from the deep end."

"I'm thinking it's a good thing," Jim continues although his voice doesn't carry that commanding tone I'm used to. I look at him and he's nodding as if to convince himself. "It is a good thing. Get it over with and out of his system and then, maybe, he'll be able to put some perspective on everything; weigh the good and the bad and resolve his issues with Sara and himself." He gives me an embarrassed smile. "Wishful thinking, I know."

"Hey, can't hurt," I add. "Wishful thinking has gotten me through more stuff."

"Me, too. I kind of keep that in my back pocket though. Can't have that frilly thing messing up my gritty cop persona and all."

"Yeah, right," I grin.

"There you are," comes from behind me and I recognize Warrick's voice. swinging a look over my shoulder. "We're all going to breakfast to welcome Sara back. Get your butts in gear and come on." He points at his watch and heads out as I pull myself wearily to my feet, Jim doing the same.

"Scotch and pancakes, mmm-mm," I say rubbing my belly.

"A real man's breakfast," Jim quips as he loosens his tie and follows after me.

"Maybe I can get out of Sara where your mug is," I offer as we head down the corridor.

"Would you do that? 'Cause I really miss Gene," he says with all honesty. I can't help but laugh as I pat him on the back.

Greg

I've never had so many people over to my place before. Yeah, sure, Nick and Warrick are regulars. But I've had Jacqui, Archie, Henry and Bobby along with Super Dave and even Catherine. I would be ecstatic if I thought they were here for me but I know they're here for Sara. As much as she likes to play the loner, she's not very good at it. But I won't be the one that tells her that. Oh, no. I just got back onto her good side and I'm not planning on traveling that road any time soon, no thank you. It was bad. It was worse than bad. It was the most horrible thing ever. It's kind of like having your dog mad at you (not that I'm comparing Sara to a dog) but Sara and I have always . . . well, we've always clicked. She never treated me like a Lab Rat, always as a friend so to have that back . . . It's like gold, man. Like gold.

So when I suggested she might want to stay with me instead of Brass after getting out of the hospital, I wasn't sure if she'd accept. She and Brass have this thing going. He's sorta like her Grissom-in-waiting or something. They're even developing this non-verbal communication I've seen her do with Grissom like forever. It's scary, but it's also nice. It makes me feel comfortable when all the pieces are working. And, with her here, it makes me feel like I'm paying Grissom back by taking care of her for him. I'm still worried about that, about when he comes back, so I want to show him that I'm not as juvenile as-as I have been. Call it blackmail or sucking up. I don't care. As long as I get back into his good graces, too.

It was kind of funny the first few days she was with me. She's changed. BG (before Grissom) she would've insisted on staying at her own place, taking care of herself by herself. But this time she seemed pleased about having someone care for her. All that time I was mad at her I didn't think about how she was alone. Her own doing or not it must've been painful. I've never had anyone live with me. I went straight from home to school then to my own place. My roommates at Stanford ruined me to the idea of ever having them again.

But, this time is different. I'm not afraid she'll get in my stuff or read my diary (yes, I have a diary) or see me in my Jurassic Park underwear. (Dino DNA rules!) I feel comfortable sharing my space. And knowing she's here makes me sleep better. Don't know why, maybe because I'm not worried about her so much being on her own when she's just in the next room.

I'm gonna miss her when she heads back home which should be soon. Maybe I can talk her into staying longer, keep me company, at least, until Grissom gets home. But I don't know if she'll stay. Whatever she wants is fine with me. Someone will be here for her. She's got a family here and she knows it. I've told her often enough. I just hope she believes it.

Oh, there's Warrick pointing at his watch. Nodding, I hurry off to Trace knowing Hodges has probably trapped her again since she's lab bound because of her hand. Another feather in my cap if I whisk her away right under his nose. Besides, I don't want to be late. Those who arrive late to breakfast get stuck with the tab and Nick eats like a horse.

"Ah, Sara, there you are."

Nick

Damn traffic is gonna make me late for breakfast and that always means the same. I pick up the check. And today's gonna be expensive what with it being Sara's first day back. I'm betting half the lab'll show up, maybe more. Frank's won't know what to do with all of us. Probably get tossed out. That many of us in one room, the decibels go through the roof usually after we start laughin' and, once that starts, it ain't gonna end soon.

But that's okay. We all need to laugh after this week. Must be a full moon or something 'cause all the crazies are out. If it's not that bus crash from today (sideswiped by a guy in a Scream mask) it's the house fire two nights ago started by a kid who thought the 'colors were pretty'. Then the two sisters who found out they were datin' the same man and went after each other so he wouldn't have to choose. The man stepped away without a care in the world. Bastard. Oh, and there was the foot in a shoe that came up at Lake Mead. Still don't get that one. Now I know there aren't any sharks at the lake but there were chew marks on the ankle bone. Makes me cringe just thinkin' about what's actually in that lake I've gone swimmin' in.

Sara took it all in stride. Gathered up all our evidence and processed it as best she could one handed. She looked good, even with the bruises on her face. They were turning that God awful purple-green-yellow color but, at least, the swelling was down. Now her hand is still messed up and I know it pains her but she's a trouper, always has been. I'm just so glad she's willing to let me help which is a lot different than she used to be BG (as Greg says). It was like a fault against her if she accepted help but now, now that things are mostly back to normal, she's letting us in like never before and it makes me feel wanted, I guess. Or it could just be relieved.

That night we made up was like a heavy weight lifted from me. And her as well. She laughs and smiles easier now despite her still not knowing what will happen with Grissom. Still I can see it sometimes, in her eyes, especially when his name is mentioned which is, at least, three times a week. Usually case related but sometimes it's a punny crack, usually delivered by Greg (although I've heard a few from Doc Robbins) like the time we found three eyeballs and no owners. Greg and his cheeky smile exclaimed 'the eyes have it' to which we all groaned and threw whatever we could at him. He responded with 'you wouldn't have thrown anything at Grissom' which made us throw more. Sara missed, throwing left handed and all. 'You throw like a girl' came from Warrick who then got nailed by a paper wad she'd intended for Greg, or so she claimed. We broke up laughin' until Ecklie walked up, cleared his throat, called us a bunch of miscreant teenagers, handed out assignments and told us Catherine would be late. As soon as he left we all resumed our gigglin' and couldn't stop the rest of the night. Felt like old times.

It makes me feel . . . I don't feel like I'm gonna grind my teeth down to nubs worryin' over what the night will bring anymore. I mean, I still worry about when Grissom comes back but I don't even know if he's comin' back. I hope he does though. It'll be good for everyone to have him home.

Ah, I see a space and I'm taking it. I'll be damned if I'm paying for everyone's breakfast. Greg eats like a horse.

Sara

"We're the last one's here," I say to Greg as he squeezes his car into the tiniest spot around the back of Frank's.

"You don't know that," he flings over his shoulder as he quickly works his way out of the car and starts running.

"Hey!" I yell thinking horrible thoughts about that little imp not taking pity on a recovering klutz.

"You're the guest of honor! You don't have to pay!" he shouts back as he disappears around the corner.

A grin comes to me when I hear 'oh, man!' barely a few seconds later and know he didn't make it. My belief is reinforced when he comes back around the side of the building, head hung down, hands in his pockets.

"Too late?"

"Yep," he answers with a heavy sigh, holding out his elbow for me to grab.

"Want to borrow some money?"

"I'm pretty sure that's a given," he says as we head toward the open door held by a grinning Nick.

"Hey, Greggo," he says.

"Yeah, whatever," comes next as we duck inside, everyone at the table calling out Greg's name making him sigh.

The whole gang's here from Catherine to Super Dave, Wendy to Bobby Dawson. I settle in between Jim and Doc Robbins and smile at their smiling faces. This is good. This is really good.

I'm proud of myself actually for not secreting away inside my own head after the accident; feeling sorry for myself and wondering why I do the things I do. Yes, that means Gil. I can't help it. I think about him all the time. I wish I could turn back time and understand it was fear not any doubts about my work that caused those words between us. But that's in the past. I must look toward tomorrow and the thought that he might . . . he might contact me . . . and won't that be the best day ever.

"Sara?" drifts into my ear and, startled, I look up.

"Huh?"

Doc Robbins gives me a smirk. "What would you like for breakfast, my dear?"

I try not to turn red but fail miserably, knowing by his look he knows I've got Gil on the brain. "Ah, I'll have the Desert Omelet and a big glass of orange juice."

"All right," waitress Annie says then moves onto Greg, my mind drifting back to Gil and the first time we shared breakfast together.

I've always enjoyed breakfast for dinner and, sometimes, dinner for breakfast, and with our weird schedules I'm glad of that. But that particular day, I really wanted some oatmeal and the only place I really liked was the Sunrise Cafe on Eastern - the Oatmeal Overload with sides of blueberries, banana, granola, raisins and brown sugar. Yummy. Gil and I were coming in from a scene and I'd been talking about the cafe for over an hour. I took a breath and he offered to take me to breakfast. We'd been to breakfast before but with the team. Never just the two of us. And I was stunned, giddy and petrified all at once. I'm sure I made him nervous with my response.

"Ah, oooookay." It sounded lame even to my ears.

His brows rose. "If you don't want to . . ."

"No, no. I'd like to go. Yes, let's go."

He frowned at me then nodded. "Okay."

Now I was jumpy. Everything was running through my head. What does this mean? Does it mean anything? Why am I worried? It's Grissom. It's Grissom, that's why I'm worried. It means nothing. Nothing, just friends. We're just friends. I shouldn't think it's anything . . ."

"Sara?" came at me and my head jerked up. "We're here," he said, his voice upbeat followed by a slight grin. Looking about I found we were parked at the Sunrise Cafe. I believe my mouth fell open. "Is this okay?" he asked ducking his head back in when I didn't get out of the car.

"How . . ?" I stammered.

He grinned. "You've been talking about it since we got in the car. The Oatmeal Overload?"

"Oh," was all that seemed appropriate. Foolishness is a friend of mine and it had just come for a return visit. I turned away to hide my rosy cheeks and got out of the car, taking off my CSI vest and tossing it into the back seat to give me time to compose myself. All right. This is all right. He's just being nice.

"You okay?" he asked touching my arm as I came up next to him making me skip a step and stub my toe.

"Ah, yeah," I said trying to cover my missing the ground with a little skip. "I just love the Overload."

I smiled then and he smiled back after a moment's hesitation. And there it was. That look, the one when he was really pleased by something, that stretched across his entire face and flooded his eyes with warmth. And he was sharing it with me. I hadn't seen that in a very long time.

"Good because I want to see why it's so special to you."

"You do?"

"Of course, honey." Honey, he called me honey.

"Why?"

"Because you like it," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Come on. They stop serving it at 11:00am."

He took my hand then and dragged me (not unwilling) to the door, a big smile on his face. We made it just in time, decided which toppings we liked best and talked about inane things. We did the same thing the next day, and the next day after that and it became a ritual of sorts that soon drifted into lunch then dinner then . . . everything else.

I've always considered that our first date, the first time he opened himself up to me in ways he'd never done before. The first time he didn't draw back when the step had been made. The first time I truly believed that what I'd wanted all this time would actually take hold.

It makes me smile now even though things are different as I demolish my omelet, barely taking a breath before starting on my orange juice, hoping I haven't missed out on any direct questions to me. Looking about, no one is staring at me. I think I'm in the clear. Then my juice sloshes up in my face as Doc Robbins pushes against my arm to get my attention.

"Could you do me a favor, Sara?" he asks as I put down my glass and wipe my face with a napkin.

"Of course."

"Would you please tell Jim where you put his Gene Autry mug. He can't find it and it's driving him crazy." I haven't laughed that loudly since . . . since BG (as Greg puts it). "You didn't do it on purpose did you?" he asks but, before I can put two words together, Jim jumps in.

"It's Gil's fault," he adds, giving me the eye. "He's turned you against Gene hasn't he?"

I believe he's serious and let the mirth go. "I've nothing against either Gene or Roy. They both have their own merits." Jim narrows his eyes and purses his lips. "Both Trigger and Champion are beautiful faithful companions and to have such loyalty, both men were at the top of their game."

I wait and watch that bit of information head into Jim's brain and know I've gotten through.

"Thank you for that," he finally says.

I place my hand on his. "Gene is in with your other mugs on the second shelf of the cabinet by the stove. I believe your New Jersey Devils and LVPD mugs are in front of it." He heaves a heavy sigh. "I would never hurt Gene despite Gil's infatuation with Roy. There's room for two singing cowboys in this world."

"My thoughts exactly."

"But don't tell Gil I said that," I whisper just as my phone lets out a loud ring.

It startles me, not so much because the ring seems awfully loud but because of the ringtone itself – Dance of the Bumble Bee. Obviously I need some sleep so choose to ignore it because I can't be hearing that tone. I just can't.

It rings again. This time my breath catches in my throat and then my heart skips a beat. It is Dance of the Bumble Bee. I stare at Jim who looks worried. He should be. I think I'm going to faint.

"Sara?" he whispers, covering my hand with his own.

Could it be? Could it actually be?

Slowly, a soft smile comes to Jim's face and I know he knows. "Take the call," he says. My hand automatically retrieves the phone and I dare look at the screen. Now my heart is beating its way out of my chest!

"Take the call," Jim whispers in my ear.

"It's . . . it's an Email," I explain, all other sound gone but Jim's voice.

"It's okay to leave," he says and I turn toward him. There's a certainty in his craggy face that I take a great amount of calm from.

"I, ah, I have to go," I hear myself saying to the group even though I'm holding Jim's gaze.

"What?" Greg says through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

I glance toward him, then the others. "I have to go. Um, sorry."

"I'll take you," Jim quickly adds and I toss a grateful smile at him.

"What's wrong?" Nick asks, worry causing him to frown.

"Nothing. I forgot I had a doctor's appointment this morning," I say holding up my hand. "My phone just reminded me." They seem to buy it. "Thank you so much for this and for everything all of you've done for me since my accident. You guys are the best."

"Well, yeah," Warrick adds as everyone else nods.

"Get some sleep," Catherine adds, "cause if tonight's anything like the last three nights . . ."

Everyone agrees with nods and moans as I stand, limping my way over to Greg to stuff some money in his shirt pocket. "For last night," I say with a wink then limp away, Jim having to trot to keep up with me.

I can hear Nick rag on Greg then everyone laugh and I smile despite the volume of nerves that are shooting through me. I might crush my phone if I'm not careful as I hold it to my chest, Jim doing me a kindness by turning on his lights and siren to get me home faster. Soon we're there and he pulls to a stop . . . and I can't move. I finally have what I want and now I'm scared to death. I feel his hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Whatever it is, you do know you can talk to me, right? Good or bad."

I give him a slight nod. "I do. I do, Jim, and that means the world to me. Thanks for being my friend, mine and Gil's."

"I consider myself lucky you both put up with me." He gives me a bit of a chuckle and I can't help but lean over and kiss his cheek. He's flustered and waves at me to get out of the car. "Go on now. He who hesitates is lost."

I open the door, pause a moment, then get out. "I love you, Jim Brass. Don't ever forget that."

"Good or bad. I'm here. Don't ever forget that."

I shut the door, give him a wave then hurry as fast as I'm able up the stairs, fumbling with my key to get into my place, shutting the door behind me and leaning heavily against it. Slowly, I bring up the phone to stare at the Email address and my heart starts that two-step again, my body catching up with it as I practically run to my laptop and switch it on, not bothering to sit because I'll just be back on my feet in a millisecond. So I pace instead and chew on my nails, straighten things that are already straight, water the plant Gil got for me, read the card, and even stroll into the bathroom to brush my hair like that'll make any difference to anything.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I look away and grab hold of the sink, trying to slow my racing heart. I take in a deep breath and ease it out, repeating the process until I stop shaking, until my stomach stops trying to reintroduce my omelet to the world. It's only then I stand up straighter, smooth down my shirt and head back to my laptop.

The desktop photo of Gil and the kittens greets me and I realize, in a blaze of glory, that this quite possibly will be my future I'm about to see. My mouth goes dry and the shaking is back. I dread what may be coming yet can't wait to know. Everything has been leading to this moment, this flash of time that'll either deliver me from my endless worry or destroy me in a split second.

But I must be brave. Gil would want me to be brave.

I click on Firefox then open my Email, staring at the familiar address right on top. My finger hovers over the touchpad and I close my eyes. This could be the end.

But it could be a new beginning.

"Be brave. Be brave. Be brave," I whisper as I drop my finger and open my eyes.

The Sunrise Café is a real café in Las Vegas & the Oatmeal Overload is on their menu. Firefox is Mozilla Firefox.

Okay, the flogging will commence. I'm willing to take it 'cause you know I couldn't actually show you the Email. Not yet anyway. I hope you enjoy what I've put forth and forgive me my long silence.

Next up we're back to Grissom and his time with the LAPD. Again, I've just started putting his piece together but I'm hoping (fingers crossed) to get it posted in a much shorter time than Part 21. Thanks again and Happy Valentine's Day (in case I completely run out of words and don't post before then. I have to cover my bases just in case). :-D