"So, Gil," Amy Sidle began when she was settled on the leather couch in Grissom's living room. "You work with Sara?"

Grissom noticed that as she spoke, she was examining the room in which they sat, eyes darting from one thing to another. Did she like what she saw? He couldn't tell; all he knew was that Sara looked very amused. His hand tightened on Newton's nylon collar.

"Uh, yes," he managed. "Sara and I both work on the night shift. Well, when she's not on leave like she is now. I'm her supervisor, actually." Wondering if the stuttering in his brain was coming through in his speech, he shifted his weight on the breakfast-bar stool he was resting uneasily on. "We've worked together for almost four years now."

Sara's father, who was much more astute than the tie-dye and ponytail made him look, offered Grissom a reassuring smile and cut in on the conversation. "So you drive a Beamer, huh? I guess crime and death pay better than Amy and I thought!"

Sara rolled her eyes, wishing her parents weren't quite so . . . curious. "Yeah, dad, he has a BMW. And no, the job doesn't pay particularly well. I've still got my Bug. It's just that Grissom's a better saver than I am. He's also a better driver."

Grissom gave Sara a silent look that promised unending gratitude if she could just continue to keep the intimidating questions away from him, and she reached over and squeezed his hand. "We've known each other for a long time though. Since I was in San Fran, actually. So we know each other really well."

"Oh, so you're old friends then!" Amy said with a sweet smile on her face. Just as Grissom and Sara were breathing sighs of relief at her tone, she switched gears and went in for the kill. "So why haven't you married my little girl, Gil, if you know her so well?"

"Uh . . ."

"Mom! Geez, could you be a little more obnoxious?" Sara stood up angrily, glad that she'd chosen a high stool and not the low couch to sit on. "I already told you that he asked me and I said no. I think one day he just might kidnap me in my sleep and drag me to one of the chapels downtown. So don't act like he's talking advantage of me.

"Besides, you guys are here to visit me and meet Grissom, not to tear him apart. If you're going to be snarky for the next three weeks, you can just go home now and we'll mail a video of the baby when she's born."

"You know Sara's right, Amy," Steve said quietly. "If she's happy, I don't see any reason why we should try to make her unhappy by picking on Gil." He put an arm around his wife's shoulders and gave Sara a pleading look. "Your mom's sorry, sweetie. We're just having some trouble dealing with all this. Last time we saw you, you didn't have a boyfriend and wanted to move back home, and now you're pregnant and living with the man who made you want to move home in the first place."

Sara's mouth fell open and she sank back onto the stool, thunderstruck. Her father hadn't really just said that, had he? Oh god. "Uh, Dad . . . let's just change the subject, ok? What are you guys planning on doing while you're here, anyway? I'm your tour guide."

Mrs. Sidle, still struggling with her opinion of Grissom, looked up in surprise. "Well, honey, we thought you could just show us the sights. You know, the Strip and all."

Sara and Grissom looked at each other and laughed. "What part of the Strip, Mom?"

Amy blinked. "Well . . . all of it. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Technically, Mrs. Sidle, no," Grissom offered. "It's just that the Strip is much larger than most people think. It's three miles long, and if you want to include the areas most people consider part of the Strip, though they technically aren't, you're talking between six and nine miles, not taking into consideration that you have to walk the same distance to get back to where you started."

Sara grinned. "I know you guys still walk at home, but I don't think you can handle the whole thing at once. It would probably be easier if you pick out what you especially want to see and I'll drive us around. Plus I'm sure you've noticed that it's currently 83 degrees outside. The weather here is kinda nutty. If we tried to walk too far, you guys would be carrying a very angry pregnant woman home."

She sighed and patted her mother on the shoulder. "Welcome to real life, Mom. Let's try an easier question: where do you want to go for dinner?"

As he realized that the heat really was off him, Grissom's shoulders relaxed and he released his hold on Newton, choosing instead to simply rest one hand on the dog's silky back.

Amy Sidle brushed back her hair and smiled. "Oh, Sara, your father and I have no idea what's even around here! Why don't you and Gil pick a restaurant, and surprise us. We need to go back to our hotel and get this grimy traveling feeling off of us."

Steve quickly agreed with his wife, seizing the opportunity to escape now that she was no longer on the offensive. "Yeah, your mom's right, honey. We'll give you two a break. Don't worry about driving us, we'll take a cab," he added quickly.

Sara blinked. "But . . ."

"We'll take a cab," her father repeated with a broad wink.

She had no idea what that wink was supposed to mean, but accepted it. "Ok Dad. We'll give you a call later to talk about when we'll pick you up." With much effort, she stood and gave each of her parents a hug and a kiss, then ushered them to the door. "Thanks for coming."