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They did not leave immediately. Sara, overwhelmed with a cocktail of emotions, wiped at her tears, and they then discovered that they did not have any tissues with them. In Vegas, one or more of them usually had some in a bag or in their car, but now, with two rental cars and their bags at the hotel they had none on them. It was Sofia who ducked back into the hospital, heading to the shop in the lobby to buy some, and then returned, Sara quickly wiping away her tears, both happy and embarrassed.

After that, she was determined to show them all a good time in her former home town, and took them out to dinner. The others did most of the talking, Sara still reflecting on what a big day it had been, and how, somehow, she now felt a sense of inner peace, for the first time in her life. It was like a dangerous and harrowing chapter of a book had been closed, and beyond it, there was her future, friends and family. The others occasionally squeezed her hand or her shoulder, knowing without any effort how she was feeling, and it was later, as the sun sank to a soft golden glow over the bay, that they headed down to the beach, and split up. Nick and Sofia disappeared for some private alone time, walking hand-in-hand up the beach, and Sara headed in the other direction with Grissom, heading up to a peaceful section among the dunes, watching the sunset. Grissom did not demand anything in the way of conversation, but he held her, and they did reaffirm their intention to get married, even if they did not yet discuss a date. After that, they headed back to their hotel room, and Sara, in the mood to feel loved, quickly seduced him, revelling in his body flush against hers, sharing its warmth and comfort, needing his love.

In the morning they slept in, Sara glad that Catherine had arranged a late check-out for them all, and when they did rise the sun had already well and truly come up. When she checked her phone it was silent – the others had evidently elected to give her some space – and after dressing Sara found them all in Nick and Sofia's suite. They had a beautiful suite, one overlooking the bay, and Sara wandered in with Grissom, rubbing at her eyes.

"Hey!" Catherine said brightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Barely awake," Sara said.

She trudged toward a small round table, where they were all gathered, but noticed as she did that something was off – Catherine was sat with her hand outstretched to Sofia, palm up, and Sofia was intently holding and examining her wrist.

"What did you do?" Sara asked.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Grissom echoed.

For some reason, Sofia slipped Sara a smile – one that made Sara immediately suspicious.

"Just a mild sprain," Catherine admitted, dismissive. "No big deal."

"How did you manage that?" Grissom queried. His face betrayed concern.

Sofia grinned wider.

"You wanna take that one?" she threw to Warrick.

Sara struggled to suppress a grin, her suspicions confirmed. Unsurprisingly, Warrick then stood up.

"I'll go see about some ice," he said.

He put a tender hand on Catherine's shoulder, and avoiding Sara's eye, promptly left.

"Actually, we could probably use a bandage," Sofia said, idly.

"I'll go," Nick volunteered, standing. "There's a pharmacy across the street."

He, too, left.

Sara sat in his vacated chair.

"Well that's one way to clear a room."

Grissom also sat, looking disappointed and concerned.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Relax, it was my fault," Catherine said. She was actually smiling, completely without shame. That alone told Sara that she was actually fine, and she didn't worry too hard.

"Tell us later," she invited.

She knew Catherine would not saying anything in front of Grissom – the two were close, but did not share any stories about their sex lives. Yet Catherine confessed pretty much everything to herself and Sofia, when the moment was right. The fact that Sofia was still stifling a grin told her that she had probably already heard most of it, and the fact that Warrick had not looked awkward told her that Catherine was in fact being truthful – it had not been his fault.

"Maybe you should calm it down a little," Grissom suggested.

Catherine promptly raised an eyebrow, playful.

"You want me to get started on your sex life?" she countered.

"I have nothing to hide."

"Really?" She turned to Sara, a cheeky look in her eye. "You do know that whatever answers you're looking for – they're not in his pants, right?"

"I do," Sara said, stifling a smile.

"I think we both know that," Grissom replied, more seriously. But then he looked to Sara, a flirtatious eyebrow going up. "But you're always welcome to look."

Sara grinned. Suddenly she didn't know why they had left their suite.

"That's what we're talking about," Sofia said, pointedly.

"And you think I'm horny," Catherine said, with a look to Grissom.

"How bad's your wrist?" Sara asked, keen to get things firmly and unequivocally back on track.

"It's just a twinge. Don't worry."

She waved it around, flexing it a little.

"Well," Sara said, smiling. "I look forward to that story later."

"I'll trade if you will," Catherine said.

Sara grinned.

They made small talk for a while, until the guys got back. Sofia then bandaged Catherine's wrist, and they iced it, and then sat around and ordered room service for breakfast. But it was later, when they went to check out of the hotel that something curious happened, and Sara got the feeling for the first time that Catherine was hiding something. The clerk handed them the bill to sign, and as Sara took a quick glance, and gulped at the price, Catherine slipped it from her fingers and quickly handed over her credit card, quietly saying "I've got it".

Sara did not want to pry – finances were one of the very few things that the group had not talked about – and she had to work to stifle her natural curiosity as they left the building. But it was later, in their rental car on the way to the airport, that she realised she couldn't let it go, and certainly couldn't let Catherine spend that much on their behalf.

She turned, looking to Catherine in the driver's seat, and looked for a way to diplomatically raise the subject.

"Let me know how much we owe you," she said. "For our share of the stay."

"And the food," Grissom added, from the backseat. Warrick, Nick and Sofia had all taken the other car.

"Don't worry about it," Catherine said, sunglasses on as she gazed calmly ahead at the highway. "I've got it."

"We're unemployed, Catherine," Grissom reminded her. "You may need your money for other things. We're happy to pay our share."

"I'll transfer some money over," Sara insisted. "Let me know your bank details."

She had expected to leave it at that, with a firm instruction, but Catherine oddly sighed, and then bit her lip, before promptly and abruptly confessing, albeit in a quiet voice.

"Sam left me a little piece of the Eclipse," she said, staring ahead at the road. She paused, then added, "It was finalised by the courts while we were away."

"A little piece?" Grissom queried, voice alight with inquiry.

"Enough to take care of everyone."

She said no more, for a moment.

Sara had no idea what to say. She did not want to pry, even though she was curious.

"It doesn't matter," Catherine went on, shaking her head. "I mean, we know after what we went through that money's not important. But … let me handle the bills. Just between us."

"Okay …" Sara said.

Words failed her. She could only suspect what a "little piece" entailed, and no more information was forthcoming that day. But it was over the coming weeks that Sara started to notice little clues, odd bits of conversation and glimpses of documents that were lying around – all signs that pointed to Catherine having much more than she had even let on. Far from having a "little piece" of the casino, Sara began to suspect that she actually had the largest stake, and certainly did not need to worry about money. She did not mention it, however, choosing to respect Catherine's privacy and the confidence she had entrusted them with, but it was then that Catherine began to gradually pay for things, and then, without even consciously planning it, that the group gradually began to let her, now and then.

Catherine was right; they had far bigger problems.

XXX

It turned out that Catherine had sprained her wrist having wild sex with Warrick. This was no surprise to Sara, but she did learn that Warrick had pinned her passionately on the bed, and that they had spent a good five or ten minutes bouncing off the walls of their hotel room before Catherine realised she was in pain. Exactly how it had happened was a mystery, but apparently it did not bother her, as the passion with which Warrick apologised – selflessly expressing his love – had apparently more than made up for it. Catherine grinned widely and unashamedly as she related the details to Sara and Sofia, in private, once they were back in Vegas. Sofia laughed, completely unsurprised, given the history of stories that Catherine had related to them, and Sara, after she finished laughing, had promptly suggested they needed to get the wrist checked out.

This turned into an argument. It turned out that Catherine was still apprehensive about going into crowds, if she could avoid it, and it took a day or so of gentle probing before they managed to get her to the doctor. Sara went with her; as a rule Sara had no problem with crowds, as long as everyone kept out of her personal space, but she hadn't failed to notice that her four friends who had fled back through the rainstorm that night were all still hypervigilant. Luckily, the wrist was not fractured, but they did get hold of some sleeping pills for Catherine while they were there, and the trip overall was worthwhile.

Over the coming days the group spent some time apart, attending to other administrative tasks. Sofia turned her mind to her condo in Vegas, which had been looked after by her mom during her absence, and with an intent to sell, started packing up all her things to put into storage. Sara toured the mental health facility that she intended to move her mother into, and paid a deposit, putting a plan firmly in place. She also went with Grissom to have dinner with his mother, doing her best to make an effort, and the two also began looking for property, searching for some acreage on which to build their dream home.

It was Warrick, however, who suffered most during this period, and now the initial shell-shock of their return was starting to wear off, seemed to need to talk to someone. He was the first to seek out counselling, urged by Catherine, and went one afternoon to see an LVPD departmental counsellor. Thankfully, he changed some of the details of their ordeal, lying by and large about what had happened, but staying truthful with the details that counted, the things that he needed to vent. Sara did not pry, but kept an eye on things from a distance, and was satisfied that their secret was safe.

Nick, in turn, seemed to feel the pull of his family, wanting to return to his roots to re-evaluate his life, and when invited by his extended family for a weekend down in Texas, quickly agreed. Sofia went with him, with what Sara knew was an intent from Nick to introduce her to his relatives, but it was with great care and diplomacy that the two announced that although they were very welcome to come, that they were happy to go alone. Nick argued, probably rightly, that they had to get used to being apart, even just for a day, and Sara saw the logic in this. After some questioning to make sure that Sofia was well enough to withstand the trip – given she knew so few people there – Sara reluctantly stepped back, leaving them to it, and the two disappeared for a weekend, though they did keep in touch with a near-constant stream of text messages and phone calls.

It turned out to be a romantic weekend for Sara too; with their two friends away Warrick whisked Catherine off to an expensive hotel room in Vegas, enjoying the perks of their return, and Sara, for once, had Grissom all to herself, for a quiet night in their own home. It was Sunday night that everyone filed back in, slightly tired by happy, but not until Monday morning that they got the chance to debrief, gathered around the kitchen table.

Sara wandered in still only feeling half-awake, and after getting herself a coffee flopped into a chair. It was another scorcher of a day – the sun already high and hot – and the little house they had rented had minimal air conditioning. She offset that by wearing only shorts and a navy-blue bra – attire that had been perfectly normal while they were away, and was still normal in the private confines of their home.

As she rubbed her eyes Nick pointed to her coffee.

"Is that breakfast?" he asked, critical.

"Yes," Sara said, defiant. "It is."

"You know you're on the verge of an eating disorder, right?" Warrick asked, concerned.

"I have it under control."

It was only half a lie. She knew the others regarded her as not eating enough, but did force herself to eat periodically throughout the day – including a lot of fruit and salad. As she sat there she saw Catherine exchange a critical, displeased look with Sofia, but neither of them said anything.

Not wanting them to worry, Sara crossed to the fruit bowl, and picked up an apple.

"Thank you," Grissom said, gratefully, as he sat beside her. He, too, wore little – only a T-shirt and boxers.

"How was Texas?" Sara asked.

She listened for a while as Nick spoke about their trip, noticing as he did that the two looked quite content, even though they were clearly exhausted. She was glad that Sofia, at least, looked intact, even though the stress of meeting so many unknown relatives at such a delicate time must have been a strain. It turned out, however, that they had not spent the entire time with family, but had taken a half day for Nick to show her around his old haunts, and though both were now slumped in chairs and weary-eyed, they appeared happy.

"I have to admit I missed you, though," Sofia added, as they finished talking.

"We missed you too," Sara admitted.

"Yeah, it's hard being apart, right?" Catherine said. "As silly as it sounds."

"It doesn't sound silly," Grissom said. "It may take some time to get our lives back, let's just take it one piece at a time."

"No one else will ever understand, though, right?" Nick commented, with a wistful expression that made Sara reflect the trip may not have been as smooth as it sounded. "I mean, everyone else, they're all wondering … maybe they'll always wonder … but I mean aside from Jim and Dianne, we're the only ones who will ever know the details of what happened out there. What we saw. How it felt."

"And every time we go into Vegas, we'll see something very different to what everyone else sees," Warrick added.

"I think we should keep it that way," Sara said. "Say nothing, other than what we've already said. Even if they believed us – which I doubt – we'd only terrify them. There's nothing to gain."

"It's isolating, though," Grissom admitted, sadly.

No one said anything to this. It was too honest, and too true.

"We have to move on, though, right?" Nick said, bravely, voice lifting. "Move on with our lives."

"More or less," Sara agreed.

"We still have the rest of our lives to live," Grissom added. "We shouldn't throw it away."

"Something tells me the rest of our lives will look very different to what it used to," Catherine said.

"Maybe that's a good thing," Sofia said.

It was a lot to think about, but Sara did not even get a chance to start as a familiar knock sounded at the door, and Brass' voice came hollering through.

"Hello?"

"Come in, Jim," Grissom said, bored.

No one bothered to move. Brass wandered in, dressed in his familiar work suit, and evidently was on the way to start or end a shift. Sara echoed a mild greeting that chorused around the table, but was surprised when Greg followed Brass in, dressed in a CSI vest with jeans, and eyes widening slightly at the lack of clothing being worn by just about everyone the table.

"Hey," Brass said, promptly ignoring their attire. "Sanders and I are on our way out to a case, thought we'd stop by. See how you're doing."

"We're okay," Sara ventured.

But she saw Greg's eyes flit around, not knowing where to settle when both Catherine and Sofia were in their bras and shorts, and Warrick and Nick were both shirtless, and Catherine promptly caught his eye, taking advantage of the situation.

"Like what you see, Greg?" she flirted, seizing his gaze.

Greg quickly looked over to the window.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were …"

He broke off, clearly having no idea how to end the sentence.

Sara took pity on him.

"What's the case?" she asked Brass.

Quickly changing the subject, she listened as Brass indulged in a lengthy description of a body being found in the desert, in what sounded to Sara like a standard body dump. Warrick and Grissom both politely asked questions, and Sara's mind – revelling in some long-dormant instincts – was bubbling away with potential questions and avenues of investigation when out of the corner of her eyes she saw Sofia turn, seizing Greg with a hard, almost challenging look.

"Would you like to wait outside?" she challenged.

Sofia, whose detective instincts and years in PD were never far beneath the surface, looked at him so hard that Greg almost immediately buckled.

"I –"

"Stop looking, Greg," Grissom admonished.

Evidently they had both noticed something that Sara hadn't, focused entirely on Brass' speech, and suddenly the room fell awkwardly quiet. Greg shifted, one foot to the next, and then mumbled an apology before making a quick retreat.

Only Nick took pity on him, rising to follow him out.

"Let me show you around, Greg-o," he said.

The two disappeared out onto the front porch.

Brass looked around at them all.

"I suppose I better get going," he said.

"You're welcome to stay," Catherine invited.

"No, we'd better get to it," Brass countered. But he paused, and then shrugged, apologetically. "I actually just dropped in to relay a message. Ecklie was hoping to set up a meeting, discuss your futures. Wanted to set up a date."

"We'll call him," Sara promised.

The thought didn't particularly bother her. She had already made up her mind to resign.

"Okay. Well I'll see you around, okay?"

They said goodbye, and it was a few moments later that the door clicked closed. Nick did not return, and was evidently walking them to the car.

"What was that about?" Sara asked, turning to the others.

"You didn't notice?" Warrick asked.

"Notice what?"

"He was staring at your cleavage," Catherine pointed out, honest.

"He was looking at your chest," Sofia added.

Sara paused. She honestly had no idea what to say. She was sufficiently covered – not too much had been on display – especially by Vegas standards.

"He's probably not used to seeing us dressed like this," Grissom added.

"Well, it's fine," Sara said, dismissive. It was only Greg, after all. "He's a friend."

"You know he had a crush on you once?" Catherine asked.

But Sara ignored her. At that moment Greg's voice wafted in from an open window, and she paused to eavesdrop, listening in.

"They walk around like that?" he asked, clearly astonished.

"Fairly consistently," Nick said, unbothered.

"Leave it, Greg," Brass said, voice low and stern. "They've been through the seven circles of hell, all right? They've seen horrors we can't even imagine. And trauma does funny things to people. It messes you up, alters your perspective. Priorities change."

"I wasn't looking," Greg said, quickly. "I didn't mean to –"

"It's okay, we get it," Nick said, dismissive.

"Things happened out there," Brass said. "Don't stir it up. Try not to stare. They can be protective of each other."

The voices then got quieter, as they walked away to the cars, and Sara looked back around the group at the table. Suddenly, she knew – or rather sensed – what had happened. Greg probably had taken what amounted to a quick and natural look, but it was the others who had reacted, who had had their protective instincts aroused. Sara had long moved on from her assault, from several of the dark events which had happened out there, and had firmly chosen to leave it behind, but evidently she was not the only one who remembered, and though the others were not overly traumatised by it – thoroughly having their own problems – they were nevertheless protective, and had stepped in when she had failed to notice the glance happening.

It was both touching and concerning … but mostly touching.

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