He found her in his office, curled up in a chair that sat against the wall. She was talking to his spider again, or rather, making noises at the spider. He couldn't understand what she was saying through her tears. At least Fluffy was still in her cage, he thought idly.

"Sara?"

A quick sniff, then a more determined sniff. He saw her hand go up to wipe her face. "Yeah, Gris. I'm fine." She sniffled again. "Sorry." Wiped her eyes, sniffled.

Grissom approached her cautiously. "Greg's sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I yelled at him – I think I put the fear of god into him." He reached out a hand and gently pushed her dangling hair away from her face. "Shh, it's ok. He didn't mean it."

She looked him in the eye for the first time since he'd come in. "I don't care if he meant it or not. He was just teasing, I don't understand why suddenly I'm crying hysterically when someone makes a little joke at my expense. I never used to!" Taking a shaky breath, she sat up straight and said determinedly, "I'm ok. No more crying for me."

"It's normal, you know," Grissom told her. "I was reading – well, I bought – a book on pregnancy, and it says that it's expected that pregnant women may suffer from mood swings, among other things."

"You bought a book? I already have three, you could have read those!"

He ducked his head, embarrassed. "Yeah, I just kinda . . . wanted one for myself."

Sara grinned. "Aw, that's cute, in a twisted sort of way. Like you want a souvenir from the baby's torturing me."

"I thought you said you were doing fine," he said suspiciously. "You told me the only problem was that he was heavy."

Sensing that she was treading in dangerous territory, Sara stood up and wrapped her arms around Grissom, laying her head against his shoulder. "I am doing fine. You said it yourself, this stuff is normal." She tilted her head back slightly and looked up at him. "Trust me, I'm fine. You live with me, you'd know if I was suffering. Well, suffering other than the throwing up."

Grissom frowned and set her at arm's length. "Yeah, why don't we talk about that. Ruth said it was supposed to have gone away by now." Frowning deeper, he added after a moment's thought, "And besides, I may live with you, but that's all I have of you."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" She could feel the dangerous pendulum that was her mood swinging, but felt no urge to fight it. "Is this going to be another conversation where you tell me you do all the giving and all I do is take?"

"No! No, that's not what I meant."

"Good."

"I just meant that, you know, we have the baby coming now, and I just thought that maybe . . ."

In a deceptively quiet voice, Sara coaxed, "Thought that maybe what, Grissom?"

"Well, we have the baby, and . . ."

"Spit it out, Gil. Stop with the 'we have the baby' shit."

"Oh. Um." He stopped, taking stock of his situation. Sara's face was expressionless, though she sounded impatient. He decided that that was a good sign. She wasn't crying anymore, and he figured now was as good a time as any to broach this subject. "Well, if you'd let me finish . . . I was going to say that now that we have the baby, don't you think we should maybe, uh, well . . . get married?"

Sara's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Get married. Wedding, white dress, flowers, the whole bit."

"Jesus, Grissom!" Sara shouted, startling him. "Have you been plotting with Nick or something? Why does everyone suddenly want us to get married just because we're having a baby?"

That question sounded too simple, he thought. "Uh . . . because we're having a baby?"

At top volume now, she screeched, "No!"

Unknown to the couple in Grissom's office, a crowd was gathering outside the door. Warrick and Catherine each had an ear pressed to a flat surface; Warrick's to the door glass and Catherine's to the window. "Dude!" Nick hissed into Warrick's ear, making the taller man grunt and twitch a shoulder. "Did she just say my name? Oh god," he moaned, "I'm in such deep shit."

Catherine turned away from the window long enough to give him a threatening look. "Yeah, you are – and you're gonna be in deeper shit if you don't shut up and let us listen!"

Greg suddenly appeared around a corner. "Hey, what's up guys?"

"Shhhh!" ordered four voices, then Nick looked back and whispered, "They're fighting," gesturing toward the door.

"Oh no," Greg moaned quietly. "Guys, do you really think this is a good idea? I mean, we – well ok, I – already got bitched at once tonight, do we really need to do it again?"

"Greg!" Warrick hissed. "Shut up!"  With a shrug, Greg gave in to his curiosity and took up a position over Catherine's left shoulder, and all five of them went back to listening.

". . . good reason!" Sara was yelling. "This is 2003, not 1953, Gil! You do not get married because you got knocked up anymore!"

"That's not what I'm saying, Sara. If you'd just listen . . ."

"I am listening! You're giving me the stupidest reason in the world for getting married. This baby is going to have two parents whether we get married or not, and I happen to think that there's no need to go through all that bullshit just because you think it's proper, or more romantic, or whatever the hell it is you're thinking!"

Outside, Nick pulled away from the crowd. "Oh no, poor Grissom. I already got a piece of her mind on that particular topic, and I backed down just as quick as you can imagine. Man's gonna get his ass kicked in a big way."

Catherine singsonged, "Someone's gonna be sleeping on the couch tonight."

"I dunno, Cath," Warrick said with worry evident in his voice. "I'm thinking someone might be sleeping on the sidewalk tonight, or else at one of our houses."

"He's SO not sleeping at my house," Catherine replied promptly. "I've already coaxed him through more than my share of his 'I'm depressed over Sara' sessions. One of you boys take him."

"Aw, guys," Greg said. "Be nice, the guy's trying to convince her to marry him and she's about to rip his balls off."

Nick interrupted Greg with a chuckle. "Well, that would certainly preclude them having another baby and having this argument again!"

"Shut up!" Greg told him, surprising everyone. "We should just . . ."

"Quiet!" Warrick ordered in a whisper that was as effective as if he had shouted. "I hear footsteps." The group quickly scattered to random points in the hallway, trying to look busy, and not a second too soon. Seconds later, Sara stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind her hard enough to shatter the glass that Warrick had been listening at a minute earlier.

Everyone but Sara jumped and spun around to look at the damage. Unfortunately for all involved, this caught her attention. "I know you guys were fucking listening!" she yelled. "Leave me the hell alone or you're all dead!"

"Man," Warrick said quietly. "She never curses around here."

"Yeah, well, she doesn't usually walk like that either," Nick reminded them, pointing at her retreating back. Having duly warned them, Sara had turned her back and begun a less-than-imperious waddle back toward the locker room.