Real life still sucks, which is why this chapter took so long. Heartfelt thanks go out to my betas Anne and Ash. Feedback and reviews are always welcome.

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Catherine, Nick and Warrick were all standing at the nurse's station, waiting to get Grissom's room number. While there, they watched the small TV hanging on the wall. No one was really surprised that the shooting at the crime lab was the top story for the late night news updates.

"Las Vegas law enforcement officials refused to give out any details about the shooting at the crime laboratory last night. Senior police officials who requested anonymity did confirm that the same individual wanted in the Moriarty cases is believed to be responsible for the shooting. They added that one officer died, while another officer and CSI supervisor Gil Grissom were wounded."

After a few minutes, a nurse gave Catherine the info they wanted, and the trio made their way down the corridors. They came upon Grissom sitting up on his bed, talking to the same doctor who had operated on him several hours earlier. Sara was on a chair beside the bed, talking to the surgeon as well.

"Hey," Catherine said to the doctor. She made the needed introductions, as he had not met Nick or Warrick yet. "So, you told me that you can release Grissom later today?"

"Yes," the doctor said. "His injuries were pretty minor, and we just kept him in here just as a precaution. We can let him go in a few hours. If he wants to go ride the Big Shot on the Stratosphere after that, he's in perfect health to do so." Turning to Catherine, the doctor went on. "Ride fan myself, though I think the Big Shot's over-rated. If you'll excuse me, I have other patients to see." The doctor left the room, humming some tune no one understood.

"Well, we're all glad to see you're okay," Catherine said.

"Thanks. Did Greg-"

"Yeah, Greggo fed all those bugs you keep, Griss," Nick said. It was an initiation of sorts for the lab tech turned CSI trainee.

"Good. I don't want to find a room full of dead bugs when I come back."

"Speaking of that," Catherine said, "you do know about the new department rules right?"

"Which ones?" Grissom replied.

"The ones which say you take tomorrow off. I know, there's a case to solve – but it's not like you can work it either. Take the time off, will you, Gil?"

Grissom just shrugged his surrender. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. "And Sara – tomorrow's your day off. For once, will you please treat it as one?" Catherine said to the brunette.

"Fine. I suppose I could use a break, anyway."

Nick turned to Warrick. "Mark this day down, Warrick. The day Sara Sidle said she could use a break."

Sara pursed her lips, both amused and annoyed at Nick's jab. "You are soooo dead, Nick Stokes."

With that, everyone started idly chatting away, much like anyone did when they visited a friend who was about to go home from a hospital stay. Everyone soon filtered off, except for Sara.

"Hey," Grissom said, catching Sara's attention. She had been watching Catherine leave.

"Yeah?" Sara asked.

"I... never got the chance to thank you properly."

"For what, Grissom?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Sara," he said matter-of-factly.

Sara let out the breath she didn't even know she had been holding. "I... didn't know, I wasn't sure if you'd remember."

"Just about the only thing I remember from it. I see someone in the lobby, I see they're armed, next thing I know you're pushing me down to the floor."

"After that, do you remember anything?"

He shook his head. "Not much, it's all a blur. All I can clearly remember is that somehow, I knew you were there."

"Thanks," Sara said with something that resembled her megawatt smile.

"I'm not sure if I could ever thank you enough. Sara, I... have a confession of sorts to make, I guess," Grissom said. Sara could tell he was a bit nervous.

No, not just a bit. I have never seen him this nervous. What sort of confession could make Grissom nervous?

"Okay," Sara said as she let out a breath.. "Go on."

"Remember a few weeks ago, I told you that the reason I recommended Nick for Lead CSI was because he didn't care whether he got the job or not? I lied, that wasn't the real reason I gave it to him."

Sara sighed. Of course he lied. You knew his reason was stupid, and you called him on it. Grissom wouldn't be the kind to use such a ridiculous excuse, would he?

"The real reason," he went on, "is that..." Grissom paused as he looked straight into Sara's eyes. "The real reason is I wanted to protect you."

Sara rose from her chair, confused as his words hit her. "Protect me? Grissom, I don't get how you would protect me by denying me a valuable promotion that we both know I deserved."

"Alright, I'll explain," he said. "Why did you want the promotion?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me right. Why did you want the promotion?"

"Because I wanted to advance my career. I wanted to prove that I am as good a CSI as anyone else out there." Sara shook her head. "I don't get where this line of questioning is going."

"Lead CSI was never about who had the better solve rate, or who could solve cases more quickly, or anything related to the scientific side of the job. It was about one thing, and one thing only: who wants to become a Supervisor someday."

Sara sat down as Grissom continued. "Sara, how often do I manage to get out in the field, compared to you?"

She shrugged. "Not nearly as often. Only Greg spends less time in the field than you do, and that's only because he still has responsibilities back in the lab."

"Exactly. That's because more often than not I'm stuck at the lab, either doing paperwork or in a meeting. The only thing Lead CSI would lead to was just that - paperwork. When Mobley came up with the position a few years ago, the idea was to provide management training to those who would eventually become part of management."

"Sara, you're too good for that. You're too good to be stuck behind a desk, doing paperwork, meeting with bureaucratic types who have no idea what it's like to process a scene, or attend an autopsy, or to question a suspect."

"People like to say that I made the Las Vegas Crime Lab into the number two lab in the country. I didn't. It was some of the best CSIs around – like you, Nick, Warrick, and Catherine – who did. I'm honored to have some of the best CSIs in the country in my shift. You're all going places soon enough. Catherine's going to become a Supervisor sooner rather than later. Nick and Warrick's going the same way farther down the road."

"But you're different, Sara. You're even better. I saw it in your eyes the moment you walked into my seminar. You're intelligent, passionate, and work as hard as anyone else. In every forensic field, there are around a dozen people who are at the top of their game in that field. Forensic entomology, I'm one of them. You've got everything needed to be one. I didn't want to stick you behind a desk, stuck doing paperwork, like... me."

Sara had been looking at Grissom intently the whole time, trying not only to listen to what he was saying but also trying to listen to what the rest of his body was saying.

There is something behind those eyes. Hurt, pain, trauma, I don't know.

"There's something else, isn't it, Grissom? It's not just the promotion, is it?" Sara asked.

He shook his head. "No. Sara, when I look at you, I worry for you. If you wanted to, you could become of the best CSIs in the country. What I'm afraid of is what you may have to give up to get that."

"I don't know where, and I don't know when, but sometime in the past I gave up my personal life for this job. Catherine called me on it several years ago. The thing is, she was right. But it was the way things had been for me, and I had accepted that was the way they would be."

"It wasn't just your intelligence I saw when you into my seminar. I saw someone who clearly enjoyed life. You had a smile that could light up an entire room. Sara, even with everything you've been through these past four years, I still see every now and then that same thing I saw then."

"Sara, I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. You deserve more than coming home to an empty townhouse, with no one to welcome you back home. You deserve more than having only Bach and bugs to console you when the nightmares come every time you go to bed. I admit it, I... don't have a life. That's not you, Sara. You deserve to have a life, with someone who can give you the love and comfort you deserve." Grissom's lowered his voice until it almost became a whisper. "Even if it isn't me."

Sara moved her chair closer to the bed as a tear moved down her cheek. "Grissom... I'm not sure I understand what you're saying. Why do you think you can't give what I want?"

"Do I really have to list all the reasons? Sara, I don't know where to begin. I'm older than you. I'm... not good with emotions. I'm your boss." Grissom sadly shook his head. "And even if I wanted to do...something with... this, I'm not sure if I'm in time. We've wasted so much time already. People can only wait so long before they... give up and move on."

Sara bit her lip down as she pondered how exactly she would respond. "We should not let our fears hold us back from pursuing our hopes."

"John F. Kennedy," Grissom said.

"You're afraid that we've spent too much time apart to ever have any hope. You're afraid that you've made so many mistakes that I could never forgive you, or give you another chance. You're wrong, Grissom. I could never drive away someone who, for some reason, has captured my heart more than anyone else in my life. It's not logical, it doesn't make any sense, but it just... is."

"Take me home, Grissom. We can't dance around this any more; tell me that you feel the same way I always have," she said, her brown eyes pleading with him.

The next few moments in time would be forever imprinted in both of their memories. Grissom looked deep into Sara's eyes, the emotions he had kept confined for years churning within. And then it happened.

Sara had occasionally wondered when their first kiss would take place. The romantic in her thought it would be on some isolated getaway, or perhaps after dinner. The realist in her thought it would be somewhere more down-to-earth; perhaps her apartment or his townhouse. She had never thought it would be like this.

It didn't matter to either one of them. It was fleetingly brief, but it felt like forever to the pair. As their lips parted, their eyes communicated silently, much as they had done before. The thought was the same for both.

Thank you.

Light taps were heard from the door, giving the couple a chance to disengage from each other. A nurse came in and informed Grissom he had some paperwork to sign, which she left. It was only when she left that Grissom noticed that Sara looked obviously tired, like she had just come off a rough triple shift.

"Sara, when was the last time you slept or went home?" he asked.

"Ummm... when Greg dropped by?" she replied. That had been more than 24 hours ago.

"Sara... you're tired. I... know you're concerned for me, and I'm thankful. But you need to take care of yourself, too. Please?" he said.

Sara wanted to put up a fight, but when he saw the look on Grissom's face her resistance went away. "Okay, I guess I could use some sleep... I should go, my apartment's across town and the commute might take a while-"

She stopped when she realized that Grissom was holding something up with his finger. It was the keys to his townhouse.

"My townhouse is only a few blocks from here... I suppose you know the way there?" Grissom asked. Seeing her nod, he went on. "It's much easier for you since it's so close... and before you get into anything, I want you to see just what to expect. It's been a while since someone's been there except for me."

Sara simply nodded her assent. She knew how private Grissom was, and how much it meant that he would let her see his home without him around. "I'll see if I can get back before you're released," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Grissom reassured her. "I'm sure I can call someone to pick me up. I can probably even hail a taxi if I have to. Make sure you get your rest before coming here."

Sara took the keys from Grissom, gave him a smile, and left the hospital room. He just shook his head as she left the room. She is so tired she'll probably end up sleeping right on the couch. He went back to the journal as he waited to be released from the hospital.

---

The duplicate key slid into the lock as Grissom finally got back home. Catherine had been at the lab when Grissom had called her to retrieve a small plastic container inside his office that had duplicates of his house keys; that done the blonde had driven him home as well.

Walking inside, he found Sara sprawled on the brown sofa. Grissom thought he had never seen something so peaceful and beautiful; he could have just stayed there, taking in the beauty before him.

However, Grissom knew that it was a little cold in the main room. He got a spare blanket and covered Sara with it, taking care not to awaken the brunette. That done, he took a step back and observed his handiwork.

Sleep well, Sara. I'm never going to do anything to hurt the ones I love ever again.

For the first time in many months, Sara Sidle slept quietly, the nightmares banished and distant from her mind.

---

The sounds of someone cooking awakened Sara from her pleasant dreams. Slightly disoriented, she rose from the sofa and realized where she was – and what she had heard. She turned and saw that Grissom was cooking up breakfast.

He gave her a smile as she walked over to the counter. Grissom slid over the plate of pancakes he had been preparing, and they both stood there, chewing down their respective meals.

Sara was quite impressed with his cooking. "I didn't know you were such a good cook. These are almost as good as the ones Mom makes back home," she said.

"Thank you," Grissom replied. "Being single and living alone means you can't count on fast food forever."

They ate in a comfortable silence before Sara finished her plate. She slid the plate aside and put her elbows on the granite counter. "Grissom, about what you said..."

He could see the fear in her eyes, that he would take back what had happened in that hospital room. That would not be the case today. "Sara, I meant everything I said in that hospital room. I'm not getting any younger, I can't keep living the same way I have for years. You could say I know what to do with... this know. What about you?"

"I've always known what to do; I was just waiting for you," Sara said. Their heads moved as if in a graceful ballet until their lips were almost touching. One final move from Grissom and they kissed once again.

This one was longer, more passionate, and not as rushed as their first one. As their lips parted, they could each see the love in each other's eyes. Neither one wanted to break the moment, which they would savor for a long time to come.

"Sara, we should drop by your apartment, I think," Grissom said.

"Huh?"

"Well, considering you need to change your clothes and I don't have any I can lend you, stopping by your apartment would seem to be a logical option."

"Oh! Yeah, you're right," Sara nodded.

"Then let's go," Grissom said as he set his own plate aside.

"Just one question. What do we do after that? I mean, we do have a day off, right?" Sara asked.

"Good question. What do you want to do?"

"Well, how about showing me around Las Vegas? For someone who's been here almost four years, I've seen very few of this city's attractions – outside of the job."

"Ever ridden a roller coaster?"

"Not since I was a kid. Besides, I don't see the appeal."

Grissom grinned. "If after a ride on the Manhattan Express you still don't see the appeal, you have no chance of getting it."

"Are you challenging me?"

"Are you accepting?"

"Alright. If I vomit, though, it'll be your fault."

"You won't," Grissom said confidently.

---

Warrick was returning his field kit to the back of the SUV when something caught his eye. Beside it was another vehicle that was identical to the one he was driving.

"Hey Catherine," Warrick called out. "Check that out. Isn't that Grissom's SUV?"

"Yeah, it is," she replied. "Must be out riding the coaster here at the New York, New York."

"Well, I don't claim to know everything about our boss, but I doubt that belongs to him," Warrick said, pointing to a small green purse on the front seat.

Catherine gave it a once-over. "Oh, that's Sara's. I've seen her stuffing it in her locker. She must be riding the Express with Grissom, I guess."

It took a full second for both to realize just what Catherine had said. When they did, a knowing grin appeared on both of their faces.

---

Grissom closed the folder on his desk, quite pleased that his paperwork was done for the day. Shift was winding down, and it had been a fairly quiet one. Catherine, Nick, and Warrick were mostly done with investigating the shooting; Brass was now running down the leads on that one. He and Sara had stayed on call all night, but there had been nothing that needed their attention.

"Hey," Sara called from the door. "Heading home?"

"Yeah, the paperwork is even less inviting than usual," Grissom dryly replied.

"Tell me about it," Sara said.

Grissom came up with another of his seemingly endless non sequiturs. "Sara, I think I owe you a dinner."

Sara nodded while faintly smiling. "Yeah, I think you do."

"Drop by your place at – would seven work?"

"Yeah, yeah, it would. I'll see you then, Grissom," Sara said as she headed for the locker room.

Grissom could only smile as he watched the brunette leave.

---

To be continued...