Disclaimer: Not mine. No money for me. Just for fun, mine and hopefully other people's too. And this story has rid me of my fear of chemistry labs! Not sure how, not sure why that's in the disclaimer, but I swear it worked. So a major "yay" there for me! Also, since author's notes are going in the disclaimer today, just wanted to thank Richard O'Brien, without whom this story would not be possible. I need this music to get through most the chapters. Thought I'd share that.

Everybody thank my mom for not bitching me out all the times I was up till one in the morning and for bringing me supper tonight. She's as instrumental as Richard O'Brien in the production of this story.

When Sara woke up the next morning, she was not sure where she was. She put her arms over her eyes to block out the little bit of light that was coming in the room and tried to think.

"Good morning," said a too-awake voice from beside her.

"Morning, Gris," she managed before turning onto her stomach and burying her face in the pillow. "How are you feeling?" she asked the pillowcase.

"Good, considering." Grissom sat down the book he was reading and turned to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"Of course. Feels like a truck ran over me, though."

He rubbed her shoulder through the sheet that was now pulled over her head. "Little one giving you problems?"

"Don't blame this on them," she said, laughing a little.

He smiled. "You're still asleep."

"More or less."

"I thought so."

The phone rang and Grissom got up to answer it, leaving Sara alone in the bed with her eyes closed. It was a nice morning, a nice way to wake up, but she had no idea where they were going from there.

Grissom reappeared in the bedroom doorway and she pulled the sheet off her face to look at him. He was holding the phone and looked annoyed. "Nick wants to know what you want for breakfast."

She sat up, a similar look appearing on her face. "Tell him that whatever is fine. And that I appreciate the thinly veiled wakeup call."

"He said that you're welcome."

She nodded and walked past him into the living room where her bag was still sitting. "Okay, Nick. In a few. Thank you," she heard him say before hanging up the phone. "I'm sorry about this," he told her.

"I don't care. Is he going to have everybody with him?"

"Catherine and Warrick, yeah. That's the impression I got."

She stared into the bag and sighed. "We're not going to just be okay."

"I know," he said quietly.

She asked the question that had bothered her throughout the night. "Are we even in a relationship, Grissom?"

"I meant it when I said I didn't want anyone but you, but it takes both of us to answer your question, Sara." His blue eyes watched intently, waiting for her response. When the doorbell rang she broke his gaze and stood up with her bag, retreating to the bathroom.

Who decided that I should be allowed to speak? he asked himself as he pulled the door open, thankful that he never changed out of his clothes to go to sleep.

"Good morning," Catherine said handing him a huge bouquet of flowers and then walking into the kitchen, pulling plates from the overhead cabinets.

"We told her no on the flowers, but...Well, you know Catherine better than us." Nick smiled at him.

"Move, Nick!" an agitated Warrick yelled as he attempted to balance half a dozen precariously stacked styrofoam containers

"Sorry," Nick said, moving out of the way then following Warrick into the kitchen.

"Where's Sara?" Catherine asked when Grissom joined them.

"Getting dressed. How was your night?"

The kitchen suddenly quieted. "There are some bad people out there," Catherine finally said, her voice thick.

"One of those nights that makes you want to leave," Warrick added.

"What was the case?" Grissom asked softly.

"Guy killed his pregnant wife and three children," Nick told him, trying to keep his voice blank.

"I'm glad Sara wasn't working last night," Grissom said, without adding that he was thankful to have avoided the case as well.

"On that note..." Catherine trailed off, arranging the food on the counter and turning to face the men.

"Let's eat," Warrick said, trying to shift everyone's focus from the case.

"Yeah," Nick said. "I'll go get Sara."

He left the kitchen and walked down the hall to the bathroom. "Sara?" he called, knocking lightly on the door.

"What?" she asked, her voice tired.

"Are you okay? Can I come in?"

"Yeah, I guess."

He opened the door in time to see her wipe a wet washcloth over her face. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't talk about it, Nick."

"Sara."

"Nick. Really. I'd be betraying someone else's confidence to talk to you about this."

"Whose?" he asked, closing the door softly.

"The baby's father."

"Well, I don't know him. Why don't you talk to me?"

She looked at him, and gauged the offer as sincere. "The baby's father wants to be with me, and I know it will never work out."

"How do you know?"

"Most relationships don't last twenty years. Why would this be any different?

"Because Grissom loves you."

She looked up in shock. "What are you talking about? Where the hell did that come from?"

"It's pretty obvious, Sara. Am I right?"

"You're right about Grissom being the baby's father, at least."

"And what am I wrong about?" he asked curiously.

"Him loving me," she said as she zipped her bag closed. "I'm not even sure I love him."

"You do. If you didn't, you wouldn't have been crying."

"I think I have things to cry about beyond this."

He nodded, acknowledging the truth in her statement. "So, was this like a recurring thing?"

His question broke the tension in the room, and she laughed. "Wow, Nick, I'm not discussing my sex life with you," she whispered. "And I am definitely not discussing Grissom's."

He smiled, pleased to see her acting more normal. "This is too good."

"Keep your mouth shut," she told him as she brushed past him into the hall.

"I will," he promised, following her with a smile on his face.

"About time," Warrick said as they walked into the kitchen. "Good morning, Sara."

"Morning, Warrick," she said, regarding most of the food with disgust before selecting a bagel and sitting down next to Grissom.

"Did you tell him?" Nick asked Warrick as he fixed his plate.

"No. Thought I'd let you."

"What?" Grissom asked suspiciously.

"We're all going out together tonight before work, and we wanted to invite you."

"I'd rather stay here."

"Come on, Grissom," Nick pleaded. Sara hid her laughter behind her bagel. Grissom sat beside her, regarding Nick with a wary look.

"Don't you want to get out for a little while?" Nick continued.

"Everything I need is right here," Grissom said, glancing at Sara. Nick noticed, but Warrick and Catherine interpreted the comment as Grissom's stubborn resolve not to go out.

"You should go, Gris," Sara spoke up.

"See, Grissom, Sara's coming," Nick said.

"No, Sara's not," she said, still smiling. Sitting this close to Grissom, she realized that she felt an almost overwhelming impulse to just lean her head on his shoulder, like it was a normal brunch with their friends on a normal morning.

"Forget it," Nick said, looking hurt. "It was just an idea."

They ate in silence, then Grissom surprised everyone by saying, "I'll go if Sara goes."

Nick looked up at Sara, hoping she would just go along with it.

"Okay," she said, deciding that a couple hours with the few friends she had in Las Vegas would probably do her a lot of good.

"Nick," Sara said once they reached their table that evening, "this is almost the trashiest place I've ever been. And I know it's the trashiest since college."

They had driven forty minutes outside of the city to a single building that might have once housed a family restaurant. Now it was only two dozen tables, a dance floor, and a stage, but it was completely full.

"No, it's a well-kept secret," Nick told her. "I love it here."

"Come dance with me, Warrick," Catherine said as soon as her purse was sitting on her chair.

"I don't dance with people who are better than me," he said, shaking his head.

"Come on, Warrick. I want to tell you something anyway."

"Fine," he grunted, letting her pull him to the corner of the room where many other couples were already dancing.

"There are worse places, I admit," Sara said, sitting down and trying to ignore Grissom's presence just inches from her..

"The point isn't the restaurant," Nick said patiently.

"Yet here we are," Grissom commented.

Nick looked angry, but at that moment a pretty waitress walked up behind him and put her arms around his neck. "Guess who, Nicky," she said into his ear.

"Julie!" He turned around and stared at her. "It's been way too long, Jules."

"I know. No rest for the weary," she said, smiling almost shyly at him. "Are you guys ready to order?"

"My usual," Nick said, still unable to take his eyes off of her.

"And your friends?"

He turned to look at Grissom and Sara. "Order for me," Grissom said, pulling Sara to her feet.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked him.

"I want to dance too," he told her. "It's slow enough for me," he added, misinterpreting the uncertainty in her glance.

"What do you want?" Nick called after her as Grissom led her away from the table.

"Whatever's fine," she yelled over her shoulder.

A few moments later she felt his arms around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder as he led their dance.

"Wonder what the story is with Nick and that woman," she mumbled into his neck as her fingers locked at the back of his neck.

"I don't know. I wanted to give them a few minutes alone, though."

"I thought you just wanted to dance. Hmm. Doesn't matter." She sighed, feeling the pain in her head calm a little. "I like this song." She sang quietly, for her benefit more than his. "'I know I could have saved a love that night, if Id known what to say. Instead of making love, we both made our separate ways. And now --'"

"Sara."

"What?" she asked, startled.

"You have a beautiful voice."

She breathed deeply with her face in his collar. He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt and the cotton felt great against her skin. "Thank you," she said, her lips brushing his neck as she spoke.

They danced wordlessly for a few more moments, and when the song ended they silently returned to the table where Catherine and Warrick had already rejoined Nick.

"Look at Nick," Warrick said to Sara.

"What about him?" Sara asked.

"He's love struck," Warrick continued.

"I barely know her, Warrick," Nick said defensively.

"You don't need to."

"Drop it, Warrick!" Nick said, suddenly angry.

Julie chose that moment to reappear with their food. "Any of you singing tonight?" she asked as she sat their food and drinks down.

"Singing?" Catherine asked.

"Kind of like a karaoke thing, except the band does the music. They have a whole list up there, you can check it out."

Catherine laughed. "Not my thing, but thank you."

"That's okay. We get some amazing voices in here. Have a nice meal," she said as she walked away, the tray down at her side.

Sara looked at her plate. "I can't eat," she said, pushing the plate away. "Sorry, Nick."

"That's fine, Sara. Are you all right?"

She stood up. "Yeah."

"Where are you going?" Grissom asked.

"To sing."

Nick's eyes lit up. "Go for it."

She smiled. "I am."

It was only a matter of minutes before Sara found herself on the small stage. It's only a handful of people, she told herself. Take it easy.

She heard the music she had selected start behind her, and when the time came she sang.

"'Love, I get so lost, sometimes. Days pass, and this emptiness fills my heart. When I want to run away, I drive off in my car, but whichever way I go I come back to the place that you are.'"

The silence was deafening. She did not realize anyone would actually listen.

"'All my instincts, they return, and the grand facade, so soon will burn. Without a noise, without my pride, I reach out from the inside.'" She wanted to meet Grissom's eyes, but instead she closed her own and clutched the microphone stand until her knuckles turned white.

"'In your eyes, the light, the heat. In your eyes, I am complete. In your eyes, I see the doorway to a thousand churches. In your eyes, the resolution of all the fruitless searches.'" Her voice faltered on the last line, but she kept going. "'In your eyes, I see the light and the heat. In your eyes, oh, I want to be that complete. I want to touch the light, the heat I see in your eyes.'"

She thought about everything she had seen and experienced. About the effect everything had on her. "'Love, I don't like to see so much pain, so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away. I get so tired of working so hard for our survival.'" She opened her eyes and looked at the table full of her friends before she sang the next line. "'I look to these times with you to keep me awake and alive.'"

She closed her eyes again, hoping that they knew how much they meant to her. She did not know how to tell them. She was barely aware as she sang the rest of the song, and she could feel too many eyes on her. No one else was talking.

The last chord of the song faded away, and she opened her eyes. She had the world, and she had no idea what to do with it.

"You're being stupid, Grissom," Nick said much later that night, sitting in Grissom's living room.

"What?" Grissom asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

"You are! I wasn't going to say anything, because it's not any of my business, but --"

"Then don't say anything."

"I have to. If I had half the chances with Julie that you've had with Sara, that you have with her now, I wouldn't be sitting here tonight. I'd be in bed next to her."

"It's not that that simple, Nick," Grissom said, turning back to the book.

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't want to be with me, Nick!" Grissom yelled, throwing the book across the room where it crashed into the wall.

"She thinks the same thing about you, Grissom. But, judging from your reaction just now, I'm going to say she's wrong."

Grissom stared past Nick at the crumpled book on the floor. "Yeah, she's wrong."

Author's notes: "Every Rose Has A Thorn", Poison; "In Your Eyes", Peter Gabriel.

Amber, April 8, 2002, 9:50 p.m.