A/N: I want to dedicate this final chapter with belated birthday greetings to Meliara45678 ! I actually was surprised when these two found a great spot to end this segment of the trilogy, but my few happy tears at the end proved that they were right as usual. I intend to post the final story in the trilogy beginning sometime near the end of May. My sincere thanks to all those who continued to support this story. Special thanks to my loyal reviewers, your support kept this story alive. A quick reminder that any situations that are not resolved here will be addressed in the final story. You remain, as always, terrific! I hope you will continue to read the next story about these fantastic characters. Hope this final chapter pleases. –Kathy

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The Sheriff never took his eyes off Sara as he stood and moved to close the door securely.

He knew Grissom had left it ajar purposely to deny him any privacy while talking to Sara.

Moving back towards the bed, the Sheriff could not refrain from smiling at this rare opportunity to sit and talk with Sara alone.

Especially when he knew she would be so excited at the news he brought.

"Sara," he began slowly, lifting his attaché case to the rumpled covers at the end of her bed.

He noticed that as soon as Grissom had exited the room, Sara had attempted to kick off the extra covers he had placed over her to halt her shivering.

While Sara did seem a bit more comfortable, he couldn't help but notice the rosy areas on Sara's cheeks, making him deduce she was running a fairly high fever.

Sara tried to lean up on her elbow, but the pain from the repaired wound kept her from moving her leg over so she dropped down unceremoniously on her pillow and moved the head of the hospital bed forward by fingering the control.

"Sara, I think I found it!"

He turned his face and moved closer to hers. She was staring at him, open-mouthed. Then, her pale but perfect lips morphed into a smug smirk that betrayed her happiness.

The Sheriff had to force himself to remain in his seat.

All he could think of was kissing that smirk right into tomorrow.

Instead, he retrieved the paperwork from his attaché case and handed it to her.

She held them, a bit weary from the excitement this short visit provided. When the top edge of the last document dipped precariously over the side of the bed, the Sheriff instinctively reached for it.

Their hands met. It meant everything to him. She had no reaction.

The Sheriff spoke hoarsely, "Here, let me hold them for you."

But Sara had already released them into his capable hands. Hers were beginning to shake with a slight tremor as her fever continued to rise.

Her visitor leaned closer, asking softly, "Sara? Are you okay?"

Her smile betrayed her physical state. "Thank you, Rory."

Her grimace detracted from the joy in his heart, hearing her say his name like that.

Sara closed her eyes, but when they reopened she seemed more determined to speak her mind.

"This means everything to me –"

His heart was swelling with pride in being able to bring her the good news.

However, the Sheriff's joy was short-lived as the door to the hospital room was forced open with a bang.

Several people moved quickly on hospital-model rubber soled shoes, with Grissom playing doorman.

He smugly had informed the nurse about his worry over Sara's escalating temperature.

The nurse had paged Sara's doctor, and after speaking with Grissom decided a post-op checkup was in order.

Gil had been filled with glee at deposing the Sheriff from "his" chair.

Now, the sight before him was confusing.

Sara was leaning towards the Sheriff, almost holding his hand.

The Sheriff was leaning towards Sara, papers strewn all over the bedding between them, with that look in his eyes.

Grissom knew that look. His own eyes had held it for many years.

The I want to kiss her so badly look.

Sara's eyes held a panicked look Grissom could not understand.

Her gaze locked on the Sheriff's actions as he hurriedly scooped up the obvious point of his visit.

Stuffing them into his attaché, he hid Ecklie's forged emails from view and snapped the locks with a flourish before regaining his seat and absently taking Sara's hand in his.

Before either room occupant could speak, the older doctor was already at Sara's side speaking firmly,

"I'm sorry but I am going to have to ask you to leave now so I can examine this patient."

His tone carried the message that he would brook no argument.

The Sheriff's insides were panicking.

He wanted more time.

Looking towards Sara, hoping she would plead his case, he realized how she had gone downhill even since he had arrived. Her hands were flushed and warm.

The Sheriff realized his time with Sara was, indeed, over.

Rising to leave, he gave her hand one more squeeze before moving his face closer to hers.

His eyes roved hers for a split second before he choked back his desire to kiss her forehead in goodbye.

Instead, he smiled at her and his heart quivered at the smile she returned.

"I'll take care of it. No worries now, okay? Just get better and come back soon."

Sara was feeling worse by the minute, so all she could muster was a glossy-eyed stare and a small nod.

Straightening his shoulders, he ignored the doctor and nurse now engaged with their dials and gauges, and without looking back strode out of the room without acknowledging a scowling Grissom at the door.

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The doctor had confirmed Gil's suspicions of a post-op infection.

A flurry of activity found the nurses scurrying to Sara's side with an additional bag of cooled fluids, saw the doctor don his gloves to more closely examine her surgical site – and left Grissom banished to the hallway until their efforts were completed.

He leaned against the wall opposite her doorway, as if sheer willpower would force it open.

What if he lost her? He needed to be with her.

His goal had been to clear the unwelcome visitor from his chair.

Not to get himself thrown out as well.

Gil sighed. This was not exactly how I expected things to happen today.

By now, he had expected to be engaged to the love of his life.

He had devised the perfect plan.

She was supposed to be speechless and fling herself into his arms.

He was supposed to profess his undying love and profound need to claim her as his own.

"The reward of a thing well done is to have done it," he sighed, quoting Emerson.

Right now, he'd settle for the reward of seeing that door open.

Gil's body physically ached to hold her.

He was sure he could smell her scent envelope him in a hug.

He raked his hand roughly through his hair.

Pacing replaced standing as his worry replaced longing.

What if he lost her? He needed her in his life.

While the door flung open, his isolation did not end.

The nurse looked compassionately at him but shook her head as she moved to retrieve more supplies.

He blocked her exit.

"How…how is she?"

Seeing his pain framed in two blue orbs, she halted her movements and smiled encouragingly.

"You made a good call. We are doing all we can to reverse that fever, but if this next batch of medication doesn't help we may need to bring her to ICU for some more invasive measures."

NO!

His heart stopped.

What if he lost her? He wouldn't be able to go on.

"Please," he begged. "I need to be with her."

The young nurse placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

"As soon as the doctor is finished with his exam, I'll see what I can do."

With a small squeeze of encouragement, she was once again on her way towards the nurses' station.

He couldn't breathe.

Her scent still hovered around him and he could almost feel her arms enveloping him in comfort.

His knees were failing him as he recalled the times he had denied his growing love for her.

He braced himself to keep from sliding downwards along the walls of this bleak corridor.

He thought about the years he wasted, saying he couldn't do this.

And now, it might be too late.

He recalled earlier today as he finalized arrangements for their wedding on the shores of the beach at the Mandalay Bay hotel.

"How much time will you require to make the preparations?" he inquired of the manager, who seemed pleased to assist Gil in arranging this one-of-a-kind sunset nuptial.

"Our entire waitstaff is at your beck-and-call, Mr. Grissom," he had smiled while responding.

"When do you anticipate the happy day will be?"

Gil was almost giddy in his response.

"With her very first pain-free breath," he grinned, knowing that he would wait, albeit impatiently, until Sara was out of the hospital and well enough to fully enjoy their first night as man and wife.

He was jarred from his reverie as her hospital door flung open and his adrenaline level skyrocket as the doctor moved towards him.

"Her fever is decreased, but she is still not out of the woods yet," he began as Grissom clenched his jaw, focusing on the yet of his statement.

"Her temperature spiked high enough to put her in danger of seizure," he continued as Grissom placed a hand to his temple, hoping to ward off a stress-induced migraine, focusing on the seizure of his statement.

"However, she is resting more comfortably. Her incision site looks a bit inflamed, but the new antibiotic should deal with that," he spoke encouragingly as Grissom heaved a deep sigh, focusing on the comfortably of his statement.

"Please…I need to see her," he spoke softly, his eyes pleading.

"She may not recognize you now, Gil," the older doctor stated pointedly as he took a step towards him.

"Sara's been heavily medicated, and with her temperature still a bit high some delirium is to be expected," he spoke softly.

"May I see her?" Grissom forced out hoarsely.

"In a moment. Right now, I'd like you to come with me so I can check you over and give you something for that headache," the doctor spoke calmly already leading Gil towards the nurses' station.

Numbly, Grissom walked along with the doctor, listening to the quiet interrogation concerning his symptoms as he concentrated on calming his burgeoning head pain.

If he had been concentrating on his surroundings, he would have noticed the elevator doors opening.

Instead, he continued down the hallway while the passenger waltzed out into the corridor.

Seeking his bearings, the figure found the room number he looked for and moved towards it quietly.

Andrew placed his hand on Sara's hospital door, knocking quietly. Without waiting for a response, he entered.

The site before him made him quiver.

Sara's sleeping form was shivering softly.

Following the doctor's exit, she had thrashed around a bit in a quasi-nightmare, displacing much of her covers.

Her long brown lashes were wet with unshed tears, her pale countenance prettily enhanced with the deep pink flush of fever.

Her lips, still drying from the ice chips that had been held there, held a moist sheen that Andrew found – intoxicating.

He sat in the recently vacated chair and just watched the rise and fall of her chest.

He observed her quiet battle with dreamland demons, and he sucked in his breath at the sight of her kicking herself free from her covers.

Sara's long legs lay displayed at eyelevel. Andrew took this as a silent invitation.

He stood over her, eyeing her longingly, recalling what little he had read of Ecklie's fabricated emails.

"Sara," he breathed as his hands stretched out over her legs, eyeing the displaced edges of her hospital gown, his actions awakening his desire.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing?" bellowed Grissom's loud voice as he moved enraged through the doorway, approaching Andrew threateningly.

Andrew, with practiced cool, stared unblinking at Grissom.

"I came in and Sara was thrashing around. I…I just was replacing her covers…" which he started to do as he spoke.

Grissom eyed him warily while forcing the edge of her blankets from his hands, rudely displacing him from Sara's bedside.

The older doctor had followed him in, taking in the scene before him, gazing suspiciously at Andrew.

Ignoring the intruder totally, Grissom stared pointedly at the older doctor.

"I think we need to implement a NO VISITORS policy until she regains some ground," Gil practically hissed.

"I could agree with that assessment," the doctor replied, continuing to glare at Andrew.

Being able to play poker expertly, Andrew knew when to hold and when to fold 'em.

Obviously, he had lost this hand.

But inwardly he rallied that the game was far from over.

Smiling, he moved into Grissom's personal space and glared at him while speaking evenly, "Please tell Sara I was here."

Before Gil could react, Andrew was already out the door, his saunter unconcerned although a bit faster paced than usual.

Back on the elevator, Andrew let out a ragged breath.

That had been close. I am going to have to be more careful.

And with that, the doors closed taking Andrew back into his thoughts of how he would finally get Sara alone. His obsessed grin would have made the staunchest heart shutter.

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The excitement over, Gil plunked down into "his" chair and took Sara's hand.

The doctor assured him the medication would help her sleep, restating that he seemed pleased with the direction of her temperature, and admonishing Gil to take a nap and allow the injected medication to work in alleviating his headache.

With the NO VISITORS sign posted, Gil felt he could breathe a bit easier.

After double checking that Sara was tucked in, calm, and comfortable, Gil rested his head on their clasped hands and drifted off to sleep.

Within a heartbeat, he was there.

Upon realizing where he was, Gil's feet had several missteps before propelling him towards the beach.

He spotted her sitting near the shore, knees pulled up close to her chest, staring blankly out to sea.

She turned as he called her, and was on her feet and running towards him.

He spun her around as their bodies met, claiming her lips as his, running his large hands hungrily over her form.

Sara was molding herself to him as if she wanted to climb inside him.

Their lips never parted as their need for each other caused them to become oblivious to everything but the beating of their happy hearts.

They collapsed to the ground, still joined at the lips as if releasing themselves they would cease to exist.

Finally, it was not lack of oxygen but the pull of Cheshire cat grins that released the vacuum that held them liplocked.

"I love you, Sara. Marry me. I don't want to wait anymore. I can't live without you. Marry me. As soon as we wake. Marry me, Sara. Today. Please, marry me, I love you," Gil blurted out.

It wasn't the romantic message he had practiced.

It wasn't the most memorable approach to telling her what he desired most.

It wasn't what he expected her answer to be.

She cried.

Sara pulled away from him, looking – shocked.

Tears flowed from her staring eyes.

She wrapped her arms around herself, searching his face.

Can he really mean this? It's all happening so fast…but I love him so…can he really mean this?

Can he love me forever?

Gil was not very good at reading situations like these. He began to feel like a lovestruck teenager begging for a prom date. His own insecurities were fighting for control.

Why is she staring? Did I mess this up so badly? No…please…don't say this would be a mistake…

He reached for her hands, pausing before he spoke.

"If you have love, you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have." (Barrie)

"Sara, without your love I am nothing. NOTHING!" His voice broke and he closed his eyes to keep the moisture from spilling over.

The next instant, he felt her hand caressing his cheek in an attempt to ward off the moisture.

When he reopened his eyes, she was standing there in front of him, eyes glistening, with that special smile reserved just for him.

"Sara," he breathed as she continued to softly move her thumb over his cheek.

"With you in my life, Sara, I am complete. Please," he grabbed both her hands suddenly, startling her.

Had they not been so focused on each other, they would have notice the contingent of butterflies that had now lighted to create a colorful ring around them.

The seabirds had perched themselves on the deck, and the last cloud had disappeared from the sky.

The wind had calmed, stilling the soft music from the thicket.

"Please," he repeated as she gasped while watching him bend on one knee into the warm support of the wind-drifted sand on their perfect seascape.

"Sara, my dearest love…Sara, please…I can't live without you anymore…please, Sara…marry me?"

The world around them held its breath.

She wanted him to be sure.

She loved him so, and if he backed away again she knew her heart would never recover.

Yet, here he was kneeling before her, looking at her with such…love…

The wait seemed interminable.

One butterfly moved his wing impatiently. She didn't notice.

All eyes were on her.

But she only had eyes for him.

As the waves rolled gently to shore behind them, she squeezed his hand slightly before adorning her face with the most loving of smiles.

"Yes, Gil…yes, I'll marry you…"

He was on his feet and tugging her into an embrace that knocked the wind out of her.

He laughed and she squealed in delight as he swung her around in circles, happily, while the butterflies took flight and buzzed around them under the canopy of seabirds cawing and soaring high above them. The wind picked up causing small sand tornadoes to explode around the beach while the lilting tones resumed from the thicket.

Love made life good.

And while their mortal bodies rested near each other in healing sleep, Gil and Sara – focused on creating their new Perfect Place together, until death should they part - explored the depth of their forever love in this, their Better Place.