A/N: Finally we are at the end of wedding countdown day three...I must confess that your reviews about the angst being oppressive have been read, but remember that these two tell their story in their own time, and their pledge to GSR is firm and not to be doubted!...thanks for the reviewers' and readers' support...having some problems with the server sending my review alerts to my mailbox, so I have to keep logging on to receive them, and it is a delight each time I see another one posted!...you remain terrific...I have to say that this chapter ended with a sniffle...Hope it pleases!...more as soon as I can...-Kathy
--
You are invited to Nick and Sara's wedding in three days
--
Logan swung anxiously in his sleek black leather desk chair, bringing his long legs to stand abruptly, moving in long strides towards the tray containing the coffee carafe.
He moved briskly, as if willing the phone to ring with the return call from his law clerk.
Pastries and sandwiches laying all but ignored on the tray, Logan poured himself the last cup of liquid energy.
Pacing, he found himself at his balloon-shaded window, staring towards the stables.
How had it gone so wrong?...it had just spiraled out of control…
Guilt-ridden at causing such a rift between Gil, Sara, and himself, Logan had relied on his instincts and buried himself in his efforts to construct a viable solution to his dilemma.
Staring unseeing towards the horse barn, he recalled his earlier conversation with Gil – the reason he was now locked in his study for news from his research staff.
Glancing at the mantle clock, Logan raised an eyebrow at the hour. It seemed like mere minutes since Nick and Sara had left the stables…
Gil had been most anxious to hear why Sara had done such a turnaround in her actions towards Nick.
Logan couldn't deal with the look of Sara's disdain that had been directed at him.
"Gil…I may have said something inadvertently to Sara-" he began with great effort, as Logan was still having trouble dealing with the turmoil of his now damaged relationship with Sara.
Gil interrupted violently, "What did you say to upset her so?" he demanded.
Logan sighed and continued to relate how he disclosed his personal knowledge of Sara's past.
Gil looked confused. Surely this could not be the whole problem!
Logan let the silence dominate the air for a moment, letting the meaning of his words sink in.
He knew the exact moment that Gil realized the implications of what he had disclosed, seeing Gil take in a sharp breath as he worriedly started pacing.
"And…she thinks "I" told you!" he said, calmly at first still pacing in small circles before slowing to look towards the stable door through which Sara had departed.
Before Logan could continue the story, before he could tell Gil how Sara had reacted at the cabin, before he could finish telling him the reasons for why he had blurted out his awareness of her past, Gil was already storming towards the ranchhouse to seek out Sara.
But he arrived too late, Nick was already pulling out onto the main road by the time Gil reached the front driveway.
Dejected, Gil rambled about on the lower forty desperately trying to formulate a plan to get his rambling thoughts into a cohesive, effective argument. But finding the right words to make her believe him was not as important as finding a way to make Sara listen to them…
--
The team's arrival in the house distracted him slightly from his original plans, but their resolve to take a much needed rest spurred him to take a walk and clear his head before making his move to get Sara alone…and make her listen.
Having walked around for ten minutes or so, he finally worked up enough courage to proceed with his plan.
Heading back from the grassy meadow below the expansive, multi-leveled deck, it was as Gil was almost at the kitchen door that his peripheral vision noted something from the balcony area seemed to careen to the ground.
Panic set in as Gil remembered Sara's disposition the last he saw her, and he found himself racing towards the area praying he would not find her lifeless body sprawled across the fieldstone terrace below her balcony.
Relieved to find no human remains before him, it stung to encounter the discarded daisies and the cracked ceramic container.
Gil thought for a moment that the current state of the vase mirrored the shattered trust of their relationship.
He had called out to her, hoping that she was still within earshot, and he was relieved to see her figure hovering over the banister.
His relief was not longstanding, however, as she dismissed him angrily.
Realizing she probably would not stand to hear him out, his need to begin the process of healing her hurt caused him to blurt out their need to talk.
When he realized she would not voluntarily allow him an audience, his heart overruled his logic and he decided he would make her listen.
He would wait until the hallways were quiet, and then use the servant's corridor to bring them face-to-face without interruption.
Adrenaline power his steps, slightly out of breath from bounding up the stairs, Gil had stood for moment with only the paneled wall awaiting his decision.
Knock first or just enter which would give her no room to deny his visit?
Disregarding his anxiety over just barging in, he realized he would give Sara no opportunity to stop him from telling her what he needed to say, what she needed to hear.
That is how he found himself silently entering her room as she appeared to be dozing uneasily above her silken covers.
--
Shuddering in fear, Sara tried to move but found her limbs ignoring her demand for flight.
Panic setting in, she could feel her heart pounding at such a rate that surely she was heading for a massive coronary.
Had she not been sent into sheer panic by the intruder's hand on her mouth, she might have realized that the touch was not punishing, the hands were familiar, the voice was trying to soothe…
Somewhere in the hidden recesses of her brain, synapses were making those connections that were being ignored by the explosion of adrenaline flooding through her sympathetic nervous system.
The chaos of her internal network caused by the overwhelming fear of imminent sexual attack was halted abruptly by the repetition of her name by a suddenly-familiar voice, "Sara! Please, just listen to me!"
Her eyes flung open cautiously as she was allowed to turn her body to face the owner of the large hand still blanketing her mouth, preventing her from uttering a sound that could be heard outside the room.
It would be apparent to an observer that the tension flowed swiftly from her body as she stared into the blue eyes of the person she had seconds before been praying to help her.
Before removing his hand, Gil moved his face closer to hers keeping her focus as he soothed her hair with his free hand.
"Shh, honey…I'm so sorry to have scared you…but I –I needed to talk to you…and I didn't want your screaming to summon the "troops"," Gil began, inwardly wincing at how much pleasure Lillian would have enjoyed to find him in such a compromising position.
He slowly removed his hand, but not before languishing a finger in a slow rub down her luscious lips.
Sitting up a bit from Sara's prone figure, he realized her robe was the only barrier to seeing her bare before him.
Immediately, he stood off the bed, willing his heart and other appendages on his body to calm down.
Not for the first time was Gil painfully aware of the power Sara had over him, which was one of the reasons he had kept her at arms length all those years.
Sara had not moved since he had released her, her limbs feeling like lead weights as the adrenaline levels decreased.
Having gotten this far, Gil found himself a bit tongue-tied as how to begin.
Deciding to just 'pull off the band-aid quickly', he moved towards her slowly as he blurted out, "I don't know how Logan found out about your …family!"
Angered by the protest, Sara sat up quickly, almost forgetting to cover herself with her robe.
The action distracted Gil, who closed his eyes to will himself to concentrate on anything but the site of her lily white skin exposed dangerously low beneath her neckline.
"Get out!" she seethed quietly, for although she was angry Sara shared Gil's fear of discovery by Lillian.
"No, Sara," he said smoothly although in truth his heart was racing he knew his pulse must be well over 90.
"You lied to me, Grissom…you promised me…and you LIED!" she spat as she looked around for something to throw at this deceiver.
"Sara…think about it…I don't know how he found out, but he's a judge for heaven's sake!...don't you think he has access to information that is off limits to the public?"
Although his argument made perfect sense, an angry Sara was having none of it.
In her mind, it was ludicrous to think that an important man like Logan would find someone like Sara Sidle interesting enough to investigate.
No, it was easier to stick to the concept that Gil had told Logan about her, as she recalled that over the last several days the two had been seen privately conversing freely, always stopping when she entered the room.
By now, Sara had wrapped herself in the width of the cottony softness and was heading for the bathroom.
Gil reached out to grab hold of her arm, but she ducked expertly and managed to gain sanctuary before he could stop her, locking the door behind her.
"Sara!" Gil pleaded, his open palmed hands running over the length of the barrier that prevented him from continuing his attempt to heal this rift.
"Sara, please!"
"Go away, Gil! It's over," she laughed mirthlessly, "…over…"
She hung her head and Gil could hear the sounds of muffled sobs on the other side of the door.
"Sara –" he began, but she had shut him out.
He couldn't tell how long he stood there, defeat causing his head to spin.
It was over.
Sara was going to marry Nick.
He had lost her.
Moving to leave, he turned and pressed a kiss softly to his palm, laying it lovingly on the door to the room that held his sorrowing love.
With that, Gil Grissom retreated to the sunny solitude of his guest suite.
But for him, the sunshine had gone out of his miserable existence.
--
Logan jerked the phone from its cradle and his simple, "Tell me," began a recitation of file names, docket numbers, and email addresses that Logan quickly jotted down in his personal shorthand.
Thanking the caller curtly, he hung up and immediately went flipping through the law books that lay open on his desks, shelves, and high back chairs.
His face brightened with each checkmark he made beside the next listed item he was able to locate.
Bookmarked pages were now forgotten as he posted the email list over the computer screen and started typing furiously.
So far so good…this will have to make Sara sit up and notice…
--
She had spent her rest time huddled on the floor of the shower, unsure as to whether her shivering was caused by her lack of clothing, her lack of sleep, or her refusal to listen to what Gil had come to say.
The five o'clock hour found Sara the first to arrive on the resplendent screened-in deck room.
The covered patio featured a full bar with Jeremy crushing ice to replenish the bin which had been emptied to chill the shrimp, oysters, and finger foods against the warmth of the early summer evening.
Patio chairs were covered in damask, with large bows tied behind them to hold the decorative fabric in place.
Intimate tables were spread here and there, draped in fabric that matched the chairs.
Candles illuminated the space in anticipation of twilight.
It was like walking into a dream.
Sara glided over to the bar, her slender fingers snatching a champagne flute that had just been chilled and now was filled with Nick's favorite bubbly.
She glanced at this dreamlike setting, but could not shake the reality of the nightmare of Gil's visit.
"…Sara!...think about it…"
She took a large gulp of the semi-sweet liquid, wincing at the burn as her tongue released its hold on it to allow it to flow down the back of her throat.
Gil's pleas continued their onslaught, resonating through her conscious thought.
"Think about it…"
Sara shook her head.
She was done with thinking.
She emptied the glass, shakily returning it to the high counter only to reach for another.
She was done with feeling.
Sara tipped the glass until half the champagne was gulped.
She felt ready to face the rest of her miserable life.
Walking towards the end of the room, admiring the spread and the decorations, Sara began feeling the effects of the alcohol rush through her body which had not had nourishment yet this day, with precious little nourishment the previous two anxious days.
She was a bit giddy, moving her free hand to the tip of nose, missing the mark slightly, to cover what she was sure to be a goofy grin.
It won't be so bad, she thought, grazing her finger along the top of a linen covered chair.
This will all be mine one day.
All this will be mine.
Nicky will be mine.
I'll finally what I've always wanted.
A home, a husband, a family-
That thought made her rear her thoughtfully downcast head back as if she'd been slapped.
A dad.
Sara gulped the remainder of the contents in one large mouthful.
The action caused her to wince, but aided in her keeping her tears in check.
"…Don't you think he has access to information…?" Gil's words continued their assault on her subconscious.
Her feelings of betrayal were becoming fused with questions as to motive.
But why would Logan do that?
Why would he do that to me?
Didn't he know how much it would hurt me to have everyone learn about my past, to have to face the pitying looks in their eyes?
Didn't he know?
It was at that moment that the crushing reality forced its way to the front of Sara's fuzzy consciousness.
But he didn't know…
Try as she might to dismiss those thoughts, she could not escape the fact that it would be in character for Logan, a loving father as he was, to find out a little about someone who would have such an impact on the happiness of his only son.
It would be in character…
It would be possible…
As a judge, he did have access…
Of course he could have search…he just didn't know how it would hurt her…he didn't know…
Stunned by this realization, Sara missed falling to the floor by the good fortune of Jeremy having approached her at that moment to see if she was alright.
"Sara!" Jeremy moved swiftly from behind her, helping her land squarely on the seat in front of him.
Kneeling swiftly, he took the stemware from her hand and raised her chin to look at him.
Expecting many different things when he looked fully at her face, Jeremy was unprepared to find – a smile.
It was small, but it was growing, and unlike all the others he had viewed over the last two weeks, this one reached her eyes.
"He didn't know," she stated matter-of-factly, causing Jeremy to look closer into Sara's eyes for any signs that medical attention was needed.
His proximity made him the likely target of an unanticipated hug.
"He didn't know!" she shreiked.
Pulling away anxiously, Jeremy was about to ask but Sara interrupted him chuckling lightly, "He didn't know, Jeremy! How could he know? That's why he knew!"
"Uh," was all Jeremy could say to Sara's ramblings as he found his attention turning to the oohs and aahs of their guests entering the patio.
"Where's the happy bride-to-be?" called Catherine, clearly impressed with the décor.
"I'm here!" Sara said standing a bit too quickly, reaching for Jeremy to steady herself.
"And I am happy!" Sara intoned with a huge smile on her face.
"Wow, Sara! Looks like luck is on your side! If I knew Nick came from all this, I might have tried to snag him myself!" she laughed as Sara giggled.
Catherine moved closer to Sara and said seriously, "But honey, I am so happy for you. You deserve to not be alone anymore. You deserve to be part of this, to be part of a real family."
Her thoughts immediately centered on Logan: memories of the twinkle in his eye as he called her "darlin'", the kiss on the forehead as he went off to work, laughing in the wee hours of the morning as they sat cozily at the kitchen table.
With a huge smile, Sara grabbed Catherine's arm and pulled her to the open bar.
"I'll drink to that," she said as Jeremy decided to keep a mental tab on Sara's alcohol intake.
--
Brass stood outside Gil's room, the investigator in him listening to the hushed tones of an obviously heated phone conversation.
Hearing the thud of a cell phone hitting the mattress, Jim took this as his cue to knock.
A brief second later, the doorknob was unceremoniously ripped from his hand by a flustered Grissom.
The two old friends stood looking at each other for a full second before Gil relaxed a bit and moved back, allowing Brass access to the room.
"Tiff with the old girlfriend?" Jim asked, nodding to the cell phone buried in the quilted cover.
He was not prepared for the angry reaction from Gil.
"What the hell do you want from me, Jim?" he spat angrily as he tried to stack some clothing from its place in his open drawer before needing a release and slamming both the shirts and the drawer in frustration.
"Whoa, partner…" Brass said without reaction, although he had a rough idea as to the root cause of this behavior.
"Tell me."
Silence ensued, and Brass seated himself allowing Gil time to collect his thoughts.
The internal debate was never if he would tell Jim what had been happening, but how much to disclose.
Gil felt Sara had been hurt enough, he wanted to protect her from any additional confrontations by even this most trusted and well-meaning friend.
But once the floodgates opened, it was hard to hold back the tiniest detail.
His recitation over, Brass stood as his upset was genuine and he felt deeply affected by the pain his two friends were experiencing.
A deep breath and a wish to be holding a Jack Daniels in his hand at the moment, Brass asked simply, "And now?"
Gil shrugged and turned away momentarily, hoping to get a rein on his emotions.
So Brass asked again, "And the phone call?"
This time, Gil turned and smiled ruefully. "Sheriff."
His eyebrows raised inquisitively, Jim stood silent, fearing the words he knew were coming.
"I'm leaving, Jim."
Brass turned towards Gil, and after eyeing him for a moment asked, "Do you have any wheels?"
Gil raised his eyebrows before nodding.
"Then, let's get out of here."
--
By this time, the cocktail party had moved into its third hour with the gang enjoying the comforts of good food, good wine, and good friends.
Sara was radiant, but the blush in her cheek could be attributed in large part to the great amount of alcohol she had placed in her system
She hadn't moved from her spot, Nick often leaning on the comfortable armrests of her chair, Greg sometimes taking up residence when Nick strolled over to Sofia's spot on the cushioned window sill seats.
Sara realized she hadn't laughed this hard in …well…forever…
But as the team decided to go into town for the night, Sara stood for the first time and found herself splat on Warrick's lap.
Despite Nick's chiding about not being one to hold her liquor, Catherine's maternal instinct caused her to make a suggestion that perhaps Sara needed some rest instead of a fun night out on the town, seeing as she still was in her recuperation period.
Sofia's head and chest position perked up at this idea, and she cooed that rest seemed to be "just what the doctor ordered".
It went unnoticed when Nick glared at Sofia for a heartbeat before releasing a smirk and an incredulous shake of his head before moving towards Sara to give a helping hand.
Unnoticed, that is, by almost everyone.
"I'll look after her."
It was really more a command than a suggestion, and the entire team stood as Logan Stokes moved slowly towards the gathering.
"You go ahead now, enjoy yourselves," he began in his most hospitable tone, avoiding looking in Nick's direction.
"Sara needs to sleep now. I'll take her up now," he said gently.
Not for the first time did the team understand the extent of his paternal feelings for Sara.
The friends looked at each other in agreement and one by one moved to hug or kiss Sara goodnight, as her lids were already slightly closed.
When Nick finally reached her as the tail end of the parade, he locked eyes with his father.
A curious sense of dread filled him, and he flashbacked to being a youngster who had just "crossed" his father's immovable "line".
Moving his head to avoid his father's glare, Nick squatted down alongside Sara and kissed her gently on the forehead.
Friends first, Nick had always completed this gesture when he knew she was dealing with some difficult issues.
For the second time today, a pang of guilt resonated through his being at the way he had been acting towards this wonderful woman who would be his wife.
He was shaken out of his reflective moment by Sofia's comment that was fraught with innuendo, "Coming, Nick?"
One more kiss and Nick departed without a word to his father.
Once the party had left through the front entrance, Logan looked at Jeremy who was shaking his head.
"Seven, sir. She wouldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried…"
"Did she eat anything?"
Jeremy paused to be sure he answered correctly.
Shaking his head, he said, "No…and I offered, really, sir…"
Logan put his palm up in the air in the direction of the bar.
"It's fine, son…not your fault."
He leaned in to scoop up his sleeping beauty as he repeated sullenly, "…not your fault."
Climbing the stairs easily as he noted again her lack of substantial body weight, Sara snuggled into the crook of Logan's neck.
He felt more than saw her body tremors, his concern over her alcohol consumption and lack of food causing him to debate calling Dr. Craig again.
Pausing to move the quilted covers aside, Logan placed Sara lovingly on her bed.
Moving to stand erect, he was startled by two weary eyes forcing themselves open.
"Dad?" sleep slurring her the only word she could tiredly release, although her mind raced with so many more she wanted to say..
That one word created such a sense of joy in him, he stood there as happy as when he stood before each of his children when they were first born.
"Darlin'…" he smiled. "…sshh…go to sleep now, darlin'…"
"Stay with me?" she mumbled before her exhaustion and her drinking took hold of her.
He closed his eyes in thanksgiving for this miracle of second chance with this little girl who had stolen his heart.
Moving towards the bed, Logan kicked off his shoes and sat against the polished headboard.
Placing a pillow behind his head, he leaned forward to bring Sara close to him.
Sighing, she placed her head on his chest and was immediately slipping into a restful sleep, knowing her dad was there to chase away the demons from her nightmares.
And her dream was pleasant:
She was a younger version of herself, sitting on a ribbon festooned wooden swing draped from the most perfect oak tree.
The day was warm and birds were flying next to a squad of paper airplanes being buffeted by the wind.
Behind her was Logan, in rolled up sleeves as if he were just coming home from a hard day at work.
He was pushing her higher with each thrust, helping her feet almost touch the sky.
Suddenly, he grabbed her swing as it neared him, stopping her in mid air.
"You're ready, darlin'" he smiled.
Suddenly anxious, Sara looked back into his eyes as they were now face to face.
"I don't know what to do, dad," she said as a tear started to form in her eye.
"Just let go when it's time, Sara, and trust your heart. Trust your heart, darlin'."
With that he kissed her on the cheek and with the full force of his weight, he poised to release her before whispering, "I love you, Sara."
She smiled trustingly at him and said, "I love you too, Dad."
Suddenly there was a rush of wind and Sara released her hold on the safety of the swing.
She realized her now grown up self was being propelled through the sky, birds mocking her flight, paper airplanes celebrating her descent as she landed forcefully into the secure grip of strong arms.
Feeling a kiss that warmed her from head to toe, Sara soon found her brown eyes gazing into happy blue ones, as she laughed and cried, "Oh, Gil!"
