See first chapter for all important disclaimers.

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Sara was awake by the time her alarm rang, her head pounding in time with the pulsing tone. She hit snooze, knowing it was a futile exercise. She could either roll out of bed and shower quickly, or answer the door in rumpled PJs and tear trails. And that last person she wanted to greet in that manner would be Gil Grissom.

Grabbing a robe from the foot of her bed, she shuffled into the kitchen and turned on the coffeemaker, grateful she had the foresight to prepare it before she had left for work the night before. The machine was ancient, and she knew it would take awhile for her coffee to be done.

She spent the time showering, and let herself get caught up in the relaxing effect of the hot streams of water. She hadn't even stepped out of the shower when a buzz announced Grissom's arrival, and she let out a small curse. Wrapping the terrycloth bathrobe around her body tightly, she answered the buzzer.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

She hit the Door button without replying, then unlocked the deadbolt and rested her hand on the knob. From her view at the peephole she saw his familiar form making his way down the hall, and she opened the door before he knocked.

She felt the odd urge to snicker at the surprise on his face when he saw her attire, but chose not to acknowledge it.

"There's coffee ready," she said, pointing over her shoulder to the kitchen. She retreated to her bedroom, emerging a few minutes later in jeans and an oversized LVPD t-shirt.

She smiled at the steaming mug in his hand, reveling in how natural he looked in her home. Another cup sat across from him on the table, and she sat in front of it. For half a second the reason he was there slipped her mind, but it all came rushing back.

"So, what's the verdict?" she asked, hoping that he had performed a miracle.

There was a beat before he answered, and she knew what it would be. Sorry Sara, I tried. I guess you're going to need that bus ticket after all.

"How does a three o'clock flight sound?"

Oh dear God, he had done it.

She felt tears well up, but she was smiling when she replied.

"Thank you."

He didn't find a reply necessary, or he couldn't think of one. Either way, they were both silent as they drank their coffee. When his was finished he stood to leave, and she walked him to the door. They paused at the doorway.

"Do you want a ride? To the airport."

"I wouldn't ask you to drive me-"

"Same flight Sara. It wouldn't be a problem."

She considered it for a moment, then gave a small nod.

"I'd appreciate it."

"Be ready for noon, okay?" said Grissom, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving.

~*~

Her bags were sitting by the door and she was surfing through talk shows and soaps when the phone rang. She stared at it for a minute uncomprehendingly, then hesitating before she picked it up. She really didn't want to deal with some family member asking about her whereabouts, or details. She wanted to sort things out first, figure out the details. Knowing it would seem ridiculous if she didn't pick up, she snatched the receiver from the cradle.

"Sara Sidle."

"Good, you're home," Warrick's warm voice said. His relief was evident, even across the phone lines. "We were worried about you. Are you okay? Grissom said you had to leave…"

"I-" her voice faltered. "I'm fine. Family stuff. I'm going to be out of town for a few days though, so you may have to come in on your night off. Sorry."

"There's nothing wrong with a little overtime," he assured her. "You just take care of yourself."

"I will. How'd the case go?"

Sara hit the MUTE button and settled into her couch as he filled her in, and they talked for nearly half an hour. They had barely hung up when Nick called, obviously not trusting Grissom's assertion she was fine. Catherine was the last to phone, apologetically explaining that she had a court date that ran late and asking more questions then either man had.

It was nearly noon when Catherine hung up, and Sara did a final walk through of her apartment. Her bathroom tap was dripping, and she turned it off. She double-checked that her windows were locked and that lights were off. Finally content that there was no more she could, she sat down and waited impatiently for Grissom's arrival.

~*~

Grissom helped Sara carry out her bags, noting the stiffness of her posture. At some point between his early morning coffee and now she had changed into a court suit. It figured. She his behind the professionalism the suit demanded, and he hardly blamed her.

While he was placing her suitcase in the back with his Sara climbed into the passenger seat. She hadn't said a word since the tentative 'Hello?' over the speaker. He didn't mind, not being one for conversations himself.

Once on the road, he stole glances at her from time to time, most often while the vehicle was idling at a red light. Her head was pressed against the cool glass, her lips singing along with the radio. Grissom doubted she realized it, and he found it endearing.

At the airport he checked both their bags, and took a seat next to her until their flight was called.

"How'd you manage this ticket?"

Her hands were twisting the tissue she held, and he suspected her question was merely a diversionary tactic.

"You know Maggie from Days?"

"Yeah. She covered a few shifts while you were on vacation last summer. Smart girl. Can't stand Ecklie, so she's trying to get transferred to Swing."

"She was supposed to come to the conference with me. But her babysitter suspiciously came down with the chicken pox, so she gave me her ticket."

"I don't suppose she'll suspiciously end up on the Swing shift, will she?"

He couldn't help but smirk.

"Talent like that should be kept happy."

"Is that so?" she asked, giving him a doubtful look.

"Yes. And that's our flight. Come on."

He gently led her by the elbow to the loading gate.

……………

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