Chapter 6

The next day found Sara sitting up in bed, washed and dressed in clothing Catherine had sent with Nick so she didn't have to go home in her pyjamas. Still not able to get into her house, her friend had gone out and brought Sara the essentials she would need for the next couple of days.

Nick had arrived early that morning. There was still no ID on the bomber, but the fingerprints Morgan had found at Sara's matched the robberies she and Finn were currently working on. And the bomber at the Eclipse.

"Russell was right," Nick said. "They're all connected."

Hairbrush in hand, Sara pulled the teeth through her damp, curling hair. The smoke that had clung to the strands had now gone, replaced with lavender scented shampoo. Sara could finally inhale without feeling queasy form the aroma floating around her. The burse hadn't been best pleased when Sara had told him she wanted to shower, insisting they waited until the doctor had looked her over. But Sara can be very persuasive when she wanted to be.

She was in a private room with its own ensuite. So, as long as she agreed to have the nurse waiting outside in case she collapsed, he agreed. Sara couldn't remember anything feeling so good as washing the smoke out of her hair, and clearing her body of the sweat that had caked her skin. Clean and dressed, the nurse told her to get back on the bed and wait there until the doctor said she could leave.

Sitting on the other end of the bed, Nick was flicking through the file that he had, on Sara's insistence, brought with him. So that he could update her on the case so far. There wasn't much, but with this latest development it did seem that whoever was behind this was starting to get more confident.

"There has to be a partner, or something," Nick said. "I doubt one person could have pulled this off."

Clarke had not yet returned, so Sara only shrugged.

With Sara still refusing to write anything down, Nick had to result in asking questions and making comments that only resulted in yes or no answers. Something Sara was getting increasingly frustrated about, despite the fact that it was her own stubbornness that hindered her responses.

Dr Jenkins was just finishing his rounds. Once done, Sara had been assured he would come and discharge her. That was half an hour ago, and Sara was starting to get a little twitchy. Patience had never been one of her stronger virtues.

"Catherine has given me the spare key to her place," Nick said, once the nurse had left. "She even convinced Betty to wait for you there."

A grin played across her lips. How Catherine had managed it, she didn't know. But she was grateful. Sara loved Betty. But if the older Mrs Grissom was present, her chances of leaving quickly would reduce dramatically. Betty would insist on every possible test be taken before she was satisfied that her daughter was fit to leave.

"And Russell said to take a couple of days off," Nick continued. "He doesn't want to see you in the lab until Friday at the latest."

Sara shot him a look. The day was Sunday. If Russell thought he could keep her away from a case this big, involving Lady Heather and her own house catching fire, for almost a week…

"I know," Nick said, holding up his hands. "I told him it would take more than that to keep you out of the lab."

Sara grinned.

"Can we at least see what the Doctor has to say?" He asked her in earnest. "If he says a week off is needed, will you at least consider it?"

Sara rolled her eyes, but the look on Nicks face made her nod. Even if she would do precisely the opposite. Nick shook his head, knowing exactly what she was thinking. The Texan had long since learned; if Sara didn't want to do something, there was no power on this earth that could make her.

Sara picked up her bag of personal effects. She didn't really care much for most of the contents, but she did take her wedding ring out. She hadn't yet put it back on. Her left hand felt weird, the indent on her ring finger felt empty. As if it were morning the loss of the gold band.

She rolled the ring around her fingers. Nick watching her out of the corner of his eye. Neither of them spoke. Words dying as the gold circle ran under her thumb. It was like there was a presence in the room. Like the ring itself was sentient. Beckoning her. Calling her. Begging to be reunited with the finger that was its home.

There was a part of Sara that told her to put it back, to dump it in the bag and never look at it again. But the other part. The stronger, more vocal part of her consciousness, screamed at her not to let it go.

Voices sounded outside her door, but Sara paid them no mind. Not even when a knock sounded, so focused as she was on the simple gold ring in her hand. It was only when she heard Nick say that one word did, she look up.

"Grissom."

Her head shot up so fast, she cricked her neck. Sara winced a little as she turned to face the man standing in doorway.

Grissom looked older. His face, more tanned and more lined than the last she had seen it. He had put on a little weight and his hair was almost entirely grey, only a few dark streaks lined it. He hadn't shaved, stubble littered his chin and upper lip. Blending seamlessly into his hair.

Despite all this, despite the lines creasing his eyes and brows. Despite the gut protruding slightly. Despite the messy hair and stubble. He was… stunning.

Sara felt the air leave her body as she locked eyes with the ocean blue that haunted her dreams. She had forgotten how to breath. What was she supposed to do?

In, then out, she reminded herself. Sara clenched her hand around her ring and slowly stood. Her eyes were drying up.

Blink, damn it!

Sara blinked. And when her eyes opened, he was still there. Looking at her as if he had never seen before. As if this was the first sight his eyes had ever landed on. He looked like he wasn't breathing. Was he breathing?

"Sara." It was so soft, almost like a prayer. It was as if Nick wasn't even there. It was only the two of them. "Are you ok?"

Sara opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Her throat did hurt. Admittedly not at much as before, but Dr Jenkin's words still reverberated across her skull. He hadn't told her she could speak, not yet. She should sign. Should tell him that she was ok. Then he could go and do whatever it was he came here for. But her arms were like lead, she couldn't lift them. That small piece of gold weighed heavily in her palm. If she opened her hand, he would see it. No. He can't… She can't… She should… Damn it.

She needed to clear her head. Get her thoughts into some semblance of order. But all she could see was him.

"She can't speak," Nick said, but Grissom didn't take his eyes from Sara. "Not yet anyway. The doctor wants her to rest her throat for a while." He had moved between them, almost like a barrier. Grissom didn't seem to notice.

"Are you ok?" Grissom asked again, this time using his hands. Of course, he would. If she couldn't speak, neither would he

Sara nodded and slipped the ring into her pocket. She couldn't let him see it.

"What happened?" Grissom asked. Nick looked to her, not understanding. Sara gave him a quick, reassuring nod before moving around him so Grissom could see her.

"There was a fire," she signed. "I'm fine."

"Brass told me," Grissom replied. "But he didn't tell me… I didn't know if…" Grissom's hands faltered and for the first time Sara caught the glint of gold adorning the finger on his left.

He's still wearing his ring.

Sara looked away, quickly. Not wanting him to notice her noticing it. She looked to Nick, so that he could explain what had happened. But her friend just raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Nick can probably tell you more than I can," she eventually signed to Grissom. He regarded the younger man expectantly, but Nick just looked even more befuddled than before. "Use your words, Gil," Sara signed, a small smile tugged reluctantly at her lips.

Grissom looked between the two of them for a second before his mouth dropped open slightly in understanding. He finally said aloud, "what happened?"

Nick only looked back at her. Eyebrow raised in question. She gestured for him to continue and turned her back.

She couldn't look at Grissom. He was so damn adorable with his fumbling hands and forgetfulness; she could feel her heart melting all over again. Her pulse racing. Her… no, she wouldn't feel that. It had suddenly become difficult to breath. The room felt smaller than it ever had before. As if Grissom's presence had shrank it. Filling it. Filling her. She could feel him. Even from across the room.

"The, um," Nick started from behind her. "The fire at Sara's was linked to a string of robberies on the strip. We're, uh, not sure who it is. But last night, the guy walked into the Eclipse and set off a bomb."

"The same guy who claimed he was doing it for Heather?" Grissom asked.

Sara's back stiffened. Of course, the bomb. Lady Heather. Ecklie called him in. That's why he was here.

Like a balloon that had been pieced by a pin, the warmth within her popped. Cold air ran over her, causing her hands to shake. She clenched them on the table, using every ounce of will power she owned to calm the tide. Turning to face the two men, Sara fumbled through her bag. Doing something, anything, to keep her hands moving.

Grissom's eyes were shooting between her and Nick. Before any of them could say anything further, Dr Jenkins walked in.

"Well, Ms Sidle," he said, after a brief second to take in Grissom. "Let's see if we can send you home today." He looked around the room. "You interpreter isn't here, I see," Dr Jenkins said.

Clarke. Sara could have smacked herself. She should have asked the interpreter to arrive early.

"Interpreter?" Grissom asked. Dr Jenkins looked him over before replying.

"Ms Sidle isn't allowed to speak just yet," he said. "And since she refuses to write her questions, she has been relying on an interpreter for ASL. However, since the young man isn't here…" His voice drifted off as he searched his pocket and pulled out a pen. Sara watched the smug face of Dr Jenkins as he produced a notepad to go with it. He was going to make her write it down. Take her voice completely. Despite herself, Sara shot Grissom a look, begging him to do something.

Grissom looked between the pen and Sara's slightly bug eyed and vulnerable expression.

"I can interpret for her," he said, smoothly. He knew. Without even having to ask, Grissom knew why she wouldn't, couldn't resort to writing notes. Dr Jenkin's hand froze in mid-air, halfway between himself and Sara.

"Pardon?"

"I can interpret for her," Grissom reiterated. "If you tell her she is still not able to speak, I can interpret. I am fluent in ASL." Grissom used his hands, proving his claim.

Sara watched, with no small amount of satisfaction, as Dr Jenkin's face fell.

"Very well," he said, trying to keep his composure. "Let's get started then."

"Do you want me to stay?" Nick asked. He was looking between Grissom and the doctor, frowning at both. As if he couldn't decide which he should dislike the most at that point in time. Grissom's brows rose in surprise when he saw Nick's reaction.

"No, Nick," Sara signed, Grissom spoke. "I'll be alright. We won't be long, will we, Dr Jenkins?" The three of them looked at the doctor, expectantly.

"No," he said. "Not long." Nick stared the doctor down, evidently he was enemy at that particular moment, before nodding and making his way to the door. As he opened it, he looked back at Sara. Grissom's back was towards him, so Nick glanced down, pointedly, at his hand and back to Sara.

Before Sara could respond, Nick gave her a shadow of a wink and left.