Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Look at me! Two chapters before 9 pm! :) ...Do you feel better, after this chapter, Jelly?

Also, if you haven't seen last night's CSI, please don't read this... Okay, so I just watched it this afternoon because ps grad threw off my night, but... Were they intentionally trying to do an homage to the Strip Strangler with the team rallying around Langston the way they did around Grissom? ...Because it's the only way I can agree with Catherine not suspending him, because they don't want it to look like she doesn't see him as part of the team. ...And I liked that they did that, you know, but did it seemed forced to anyone else? Like, rallying around Grissom was natural... he was their leader and their mentor and they were behind him. ...Rallying behind Langston seemed... nice, but not... natural and expected and like a relief. It felt like it was good of them, but not something they should have done. It was optional. ...I dunno. It's just been bothering me. Maybe they didn't meant to draw the parallel and I'm reading too much into it. ...If Catherine shoots Jekyll right before he kills Langston who foolishly confronted him alone and unarmed, I'll know I was right. ...Any thoughts?

Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter Sixty Eight:

The waiting by the phone was horrible. The house was crowded with people, setting up the phone and still processing Ayla's room. …There was crime scene tape across her bedroom door, the image like something out of my nightmares. …It felt like it was my fault. I was a CSI, and now my baby's nursery was blocked off with something emblematic of my career.

I paced the room excessively, irritating the people working around me, but I didn't care… I hoped that I had never been so insensitive to a family member during an investigation. …Suspect or not, I was innocent until proven guilty. They ought to treat me like a victim… Finally, I went over to her toys in the living room and pulled a folded blanket from where it rested on the arm of the couch, bringing it to my face and breathing in deeply.

It smelled like Ayla… like her warm, chubby little body… the sweet baby smell mixed with the clean scent of her soap and a hint of something else… green beans, if I wasn't mistaken. …It was her favorite. I found myself laughing through the tears that were seeping into the pink fleece, remembering Jace's disbelieving indignation when she pushed aside the chocolate chip cookie he'd offered her when I'd walked out of the room, choosing instead to finish her giant helping of vegetables. …Oh, my little Ayla.

I felt myself shaking with silent tears, replaying every precious moment in my mind…

Jace and I sat on either side of her, in the living room that was chaotic with toys. She was sitting squat on her bottom, babbling on and sucking on a plastic giraffe, her dark brown curls wild about her head, her now-brown eyes shining.

"Come on baby… 'Da-da!'" He said, enunciating the word he wanted her to repeat. I rolled my eyes. I'd been trying anything I could think of for weeks… she didn't want to talk yet. "Ayla… Ayla, honey." She focused her gaze on him and he grinned, absolute love in every feature. "Da-da!"

"Gah…sppplll! Ohhhh! …Guuurmmm!"

I giggled. "Ayla…" She turned to look at me. "Ma-ma!"

She giggled. "Mmmm! UhbbbbRRRg!"

I sighed, tossing my hair off my shoulders—it was tickling me. I lifted my hand to pick off what I thought to be a single strand of hair, because I was still being tickled… and encountered a little body. An ant. Oh god, an ant! I shrieked, leapt to my feet, screaming, "Oh god! A bug! A bug was ON me! Eww! Bug!"

Ayla's giggle came in a shriek. "Ohhh! 'Ug! Ug! Baa-ug!" She giggled again, and I forgot about the ant, leveling a bittersweet smile at the small child. …I wanted to tell Gil that her first word had apparently been 'bug.' …She really was his girl.

"Sara…?" I looked up in surprise at Jace. "…Come on, honey, you haven't eaten since yesterday. …Let me make you a sandwich."

I shook my head, but he nodded. "You know your meds make you sick if you don't take them with food, and you need to take one in…" He glanced at his watch. "Less than five minutes. …Just eat what you can, okay?" I nodded dully, wiping my tears on the blanket and watching him leave the room and burying my face again.

"Uh-oh!" Ayla said, plopping onto her bottom after having let go of her hold on the coffee table. I giggled.

"Uh-oh. Did you fall down?"

She narrowed her eyes in determination, twisting her body around until she was on her hands and knees and then reaching up to hold the table and pull herself to her feet again. She walked around the edge, until she was closer to me, and I back up a few feet. "Mama!" She reached a small, chubby little hand out to me.

"Come get me, Ayla! Come see Mommy!"

"Oh." She frowned. She looked down at her feet and then took a step in my direction, and then another, one hand still holding the edge of the table. "Mama!" She reached her hand to me again. I grinned.

"You gotta let go…" I picked up her favorite teddy bear. A butterfly princess bear with colorful wings and a sparkly, fabric tiara. "…Come get Princess…"

"Pwin!" She said, her little face crumpling in frustration. She took another step, her hand coming away from the table and I tried to control my reaction. She took another, reaching both hands for the bear. I scooted back again.

"Come get her, Ayla… Princess wants to play with you." I danced the bear. Tears welled in her eyes in frustration.

"Pwin!" She scowled at me and took three quick steps over to me, like it was no feat at all, snatching the bear and hugging it tight to her chest. "Mine!"

I grabbed her around her waist, pressing her to my body. "Oh, you're such a big girl, Ayla!"

"Pwin. Mine." She said, giving me a pointed look. I grinned.

"Yes, I know. Your Princess Bear." I tickled her and she let out the shriek of a giggle she was famous for.

Jace set the small plate in front of me with a glass of water. "…Where's your prescription bottle? I'll get it for you…"

"My nightstand." I muttered blankly, forcing myself to sit up and eye the turkey sandwich in front of me. I took a bite and though it tasted like sandpaper, I forced myself to chew and swallow before taking a drink of the cool water—the water helped. I felt a little calmer. Jace returned a moment later and passed me the bottle and sat beside me. I glanced at him. "…Not eating?"

"No." He shook his head.

I sighed. "…I'm not hungry either, but we're not going to do her any good wasting away. …We have to force ourselves to keep functioning."

"…I just don't understand. …Gil is so sure that this is my fault. I… don't have any enemies, Sara, really… Who would want to do this to us?"

"I don't know. …It's not your fault, though… No matter what the motive, Jace… you making someone mad or making lots of money or… whatever this is… it doesn't justify this. You know that."

He didn't answer. I sighed. "You want me to make you a sandwich? …You need to eat."

"No. …I need to keep my hands busy. …I might as well make sandwiches for everyone here."

"You could work on the car, if you need to distract yourself from the waiting…"

"…No. …I need to be in here, in case something happens. I… feel closer to her, in here."

"Me too." I said softly, and he nodded and walked into the kitchen.

Simply because I didn't want to feel alone, I carried the blanket, bottle, glass, and plate to the little dining table and slid into my regular spot, opening the orange container and taking my dose before replacing the cover. Another long drink of water helped me calm myself. I wiped at my cheeks in embarrassment, thinking that I was a professional… I shouldn't be hysterical. I should know what to do, in this situation.

I was nearly done forcing down the sandwich when Gil came into the room, glancing around and stopping, once his eyes fell on me. He took a vacant seat beside me. "…How are you holding up?"

I lifted blank eyes to him. "…I'm not."

Jace stepped into the room, "Sandwich, Gil?"

He looked at my husband in surprise, but it seemed that neither man had strength for animosity in this moment… we all just felt drained. "No… I'm not really hungry."

I managed a weak smile. "Neither were we… we already had the 'We have to eat' conversation. Besides… it gives him something to keep his hands busy. …Have a sandwich."

He sighed, nodding softly, and glanced at Jace. "Thank you."

"Turkey?"

"Peanut Butter?"

"Creamy okay?"

"Just fine."

Jace disappeared. I watched Gil run a hand over his beard. "…Cold in Vegas?"

"Hmm?" He looked at me in surprise.

"…You told me that… the reason you didn't have a beard… You said it was too hot in Vegas."

"Oh." He brushed his knuckles self-consciously against the growth. "I've… been working a lot. It's… easier… trimming it once a week instead of shaving every day."

I nodded, watching him. He laid his broad hands flat to the table, palm down, stretching his fingers out. He kept them still for a long moment, and then they were up again, clasped together, and he was looking at me. "…I'm sorry… about what I said… in the car."

My eyes fell on the prescription bottle in front of me. "…You're sorry for attacking me, or for not trusting me?"

I felt his hesitation and glanced up, meeting his eyes and looking away a second later, the intensity a little much for me. We were suddenly talking about far more than just our encounter in the car today.

"…It was my insecurities that made me act that way. …I should know better. You've… never given me a reason to doubt you."

"That's not an answer."

"…Yes, I'm sorry for not trusting you." I sighed, pushing away the final bite of my sandwich, unable to force any more. There was a long moment, and then he picked up the bottle, reading the label and letting the pills rattle from bottom to cover a few times. "…So… why are you on them now?"

I took another drink of the cool water, using it to stall and calm myself. "Post-Partum Depression."

He frowned. "…You never seemed—"

"I was." I snapped. "I even tried to talk to you about it… get your opinion. …You yelled at me for bringing up Jace."

He winced. "I'm… I'm really sorry, Sara."

I sighed, feeling guilty for blaming him… it wasn't his fault that I hadn't told him. How was he supposed to know… he didn't see me every day and I was always so happy to talk to him… "It's fine, Gil. I… It's not your fault."

"…That night…"

I looked up at him, feeling a frown crease my features. "So much for trusting me. …He was rocking her to sleep, Gil. …I was constantly exhausted, not matter how much sleep I got, and I was grateful for the help."

"I do trust you… I… I was wrong, honey. I am sorry… I'm just trying to understand how this happened. It sounded so…"

I closed my eyes, lifting her blanket to my face again, drawing comfort from the lingering scent of green beans. "You know what he was like back then… Would you expect him to answer my phone while I was sleeping and expressly tell you, 'Oh, and don't worry, I'm not in here because anything happened with my wife. I'm reassuring you even though I'm her husband because you're the one she believes she can be intimate with without calling it cheating…'? I mean, really… you couldn't answer one goddamned phone call?"

"I… I was…" He came up short, and I was already out of patience.

"…Please. Don't. I… I don't want to fight about this… I want to find her. …I told you, I don't want him and I certainly don't want you anymore… I just want my baby."

He winced, but nodded and swallowed. "…Will you tell me about her, please?"

I saw the longing in his eyes and felt my anger soften—he still loved her like his own. I felt my heart flutter, betraying the lie I'd just spoken. …But if there was anything I did want to do, it was to talk and think about her. It hurt, but it also made me feel a little better. "…Her first word was 'bug'."

He looked at me in surprise, his eyes wide. I half-smiled. "Yeah, I knew you'd like that… She…" I swallowed, feeling the tears in my eyes again. "…She's just so naturally kind. She loves rocking her babies and… hugging her bear. And… she loves giving kisses and snuggling up in bed with me with a soft blankie. …She has the brightest eyes. They're brown, now, but… they still remind me of you. And… Oh, she has the biggest, cheesiest dimples. …Her smile is open and genuine and her laugh… it's a little shriek, she's so tickled. …She's just started walking a week or so ago… she never cries when she falls down. She just shouts 'Uh-oh!' and then looks around to see if anyone's laughing at her antics…"

I wiped stubbornly at my eyes, feeling her loss more sharply. "She… loves vegetables. Especially green beans. Oh, and puppies… when we go on walks, she reach esher hand out and shrieks to pet them… I wanted to get her a puppy, but…" I trailed off, leaving that unfinished, because the real ending was that I couldn't take a puppy when I ran away with Ayla. I sniffled. "She, uh… she loves dress up. Especially hats… Oh! And she loves the bumble bee song!"

He grinned, no doubt liking the bug references. "…I don't know it."

Without thinking, I was already softly singing the song as if Ayla were there with me to shriek and giggling with me. "I'm bringing home my baby bumble bee! Won't my mommy be so proud of me? I'm bringing home my baby bumble bee! Ouch! It stung me!" I paused to take a breath, finding myself smiling for the first time since my horrifying discovery this morning, and seeing a genuine smile on his face as well. "…I'm squishing up my baby bumble bee! Won't my mommy be so proud of me? I'm squishing up my baby bumble bee! Eww! It's all over me!" I had to fight back a giggle at the frown that had now covered his face. Apparently, he didn't like the second verse. …Ayla would have laughed at his frown. "…I'm wiping off my baby bumble bee! Won't my mommy be so proud of me? I'm wiping off my baby bumble bee! …All clean!"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a terrible song!"

I smiled, hugging her blanket close to me. "…It's a wonderful song. …It makes her laugh and laugh…" He offered a smile, shaking his head, and a moment of silence crept over us.

Jace stepped out of the kitchen then and I wondered, strangely, if he hadn't been giving us a moment. …That was rather strange. He handed Gil his sandwich and a glass of water and sat down with his own meal. I hugged Ayla's blanket to me, and Jace smiled.

"…Will you keep talking about her, please?"

Gil glanced up and nodded… so while the two ate I described how she'd quack in the bathtub with her ducks and how she'd pushed away Jace's offer of a cookie and how she'd sit and page through her little board books she used to suck on, almost like she was already reading them. I told them about discovering a cricket one day when we were getting food from the freezer in the unfinished basement and her squeal of delight and about a trip to the zoo that left her wide-eyed and uncharacteristically quiet and how she had loved water—bath or pool—since she'd been tiny… saying that I was certain she'd inherited that trait from me.

And even though Jace knew and had heard all of this, and Gil had heard some of it, they watched me in rapt attention, feeling like it made them closer to the little girl who was missing.

The phone rang, and we all leapt out of our seats, hurrying over to where they had recording and tracking equipment set up. When Jace received a nod, he answered it.

"Hello?" I was positively shaking, clutching the blanket to my chest and burying my face down in it to keep from screaming 'Give me my baby back!' from the background.

He sighed softly. "It's my mother… Hey, mom, you got my message…?"

I sighed, gesturing to Gil that we should give him a moment to break the news to Grandma in private. He'd called her this morning, just after I called Gil, to tell her the news, but her cell phone was turned off. He'd left urgent messages everywhere, but apparently she'd only just gotten out of the meeting she'd been in. …She was going to be hysterical when she found out. His dad was in California visiting his sisters, and so Jace had known he wouldn't be able to reach the man until a more reasonable hour. He must have forgotten in the stress of the situation.

I sat down, feeling hopeless now that I'd gotten my hopes up and seen them fall to pieces… at least when he called, we'd have something to go on.

Then Gil's phone rang, and within seconds he was up again. "I'm heading to the lab… they got some results on some prints!"

"I'm coming with you!" I shouted, frantic.

"…You have to stay here to answer the phone."

"…Jace has to stay, to answer the phone and arrange a way for his mother to come… because I know she'll want to be here…I'm going!"

He hesitated only a moment, and then nodded. "Okay… let's go."