ETA- Thanks to Laredo Grissom for pointing out my boo-boo's in this chapter. This is the revised one - slight changes

Grissom tried not to read too much into the fact that Alex Vartan returned to work a day early. When he arrived at the scene and saw the detective interviewing neighbors, he had to check his watch to make sure the date was right. Confirming that it was still twenty hours and forty three minutes until they were supposed to be back at work, Grissom allowed himself a small grin. His elation was short lived as Alex made his way toward him, the look in his eyes and the clenching of his fists supporting his theory that something must have happened on their vacation.

Grissom watched as Alex's face twisted in anger and exasperation when he raked his hand through his hair and then over his face. As he got closer, Grissom couldn't tell if he muttered "that figures" or "that fucker". The guilt that suddenly weighed on his chest was not something he was prepared for.

"What have we got here, Detective?" Grissom asked, trying to lead their conversation to the more comfortable subject of their job.

Alex paused before answering, holding Grissom's eyes a little longer than necessary. "Mrs. Jane Hathaway, single gun shot wound to the head. The call came in from the next door neighbor and good friend of Mrs. Hathaway, Lynne Barnett."

Leading Grissom into the house, he continued, "Apparently there have been several complaints before tonight - domestic disturbances. Interviewed the neighbor and according to her, the husband is in Beatty visiting his mother and has been for days."

"Is that being verified?" Grissom asked, setting his field kit on the floor to put on his gloves.

"As we speak." Alex rested his hands on his hips and jutted out his chin, "Just you tonight?"

"Warrick is on his way," he responded, noticing Alex's shift in body language and tone. He draped the camera strap over his head and began to take pictures of the body, trying to ignore Alex's pointed glare.

"Is there anything else?" he asked, squatting to get a better angle.

"Ms. Barnett was under the impression that they were working things out – said that the abuse wasn't physical so much as it was verbal and emotional."

"Abuse is abuse."

"Hey, I hear ya," Alex crouched down next to Grissom and rested his elbows on his knees. "You know, nothing gets me more than a man who treats a woman like shit and then expects that a simple, 'I'm sorry, let's try again' speech will make things better."

Knowing where this conversation was heading, Grissom adjusted the focus and took another picture. He was not ready for this.

"You don't have anything to say about that?"

"This isn't the appropriate place for this conversation, Detective."

"What do you know about appropriate, Dr. Grissom? Confronting Sara and asking her for another chance while she's in a relationship with another man – is that appropriate?"

Alex tapped into something that had bothered Grissom from the beginning. He knew what he was doing was wrong, disrespectful ... inappropriate. He was doing the same thing to Alex that he feared would be done to him if he were the one in a relationship with Sara.

Even as that thought gnawed at his conscience and unsettled his stomach, he felt the need to justify his actions, "I understand that this may have-"

"Man, you understand nothing!" The beginning of Alex's tirade was cut short by the ringing of his cell phone.

"Vartan," he barked into the receiver as he stood and walked to the front door. "Ok, bring him in. They've found Mr. Hathaway at his mother's. The authorities there are escorting him in for questioning and identification - I need to head on back to the station."

Keeping his back to Alex, Grissom fiddled again with the lens. "I'll have the morgue page you when the body arrives."

"Good. Listen Grissom, you just need to back off."

"I can't do that."

"I'm not going to stand by and let you hurt her again. I love her."

"I love her, too," Grissom whispered, regretful that it was the first time he'd uttered those words out loud and she wasn't there to hear them.

"I can be what she needs. I can and will give her the life she deserves," Alex countered, as Warrick stepped around him to enter the home.

Grissom nodded his agreement. Sara deserved love and adoration, friendship and comfort. She deserved strong arms to hold her tight. Alex could give her that. So could I.

"So can I," Grissom countered, turning his head to face him and a surprised Warrick.

"Hey, so what's going on here?" Warrick asked, trying to ease the tension of the room. "With the body, I mean?"

"Your boss can fill you in," Alex replied, keeping his eyes on Grissom. "There's a uniform outside the door if you guys need him."

Once Alex left, Warrick set down his kit and looked at Grissom. "Everything alright, man?"

"Fine, " he replied, pursing his lips and still looking at the door that Alex just exited through. "See if you can collect any prints from the door."

"Sure thing boss."

As Warrick collected the brush and dust from his kit, Grissom turned back to the body and proceeded to document it without another word spoken.

The rest of the shift held the same tension that it began with. Grissom met back up with Alex to compare notes on the case but concluded that they were at a standstill until tomorrow when the autopsy results would be ready.

Their conversations were curt and civil to the point of exaggeration and Grissom couldn't help but wonder about the emotions that must be flowing through Alex. He remembered when he'd found out about Hank and how the blood that ran through his veins seemed to boil and freeze at the same time. His heart, which had been so tightly wrapped around Sara, lost its strength.

He hated that he was causing the same kind of pain to Alex, but giving up on Sara – on his life – was not an option. He did, however, give Alex something that Hank did not give him – an apology. While it wasn't accepted, Grissom could tell that it was appreciated.

Looking at the clock on the corner of his desk, he pondered calling Sara, guessing that she probably would be awake at this hour. The longing to hear her voice was even stronger now that he knew she was back in town.

Realizing that hearing her voice would never be enough, he grabbed his keys and headed to the car park. He needed to see her. He needed to breathe the air that surrounded her. He needed to tell her that he loved her and that his life began when he first saw her smile.

When he reached her front door he paused, thinking that if she would give it to him, this would be his last chance. He had never been more afraid in his life than he was right then on her doorstep and yet his stomach fluttered with excitement. He told her that he would wait – and he will – he just needed to give her more facts.

His breath was stolen from him when she opened her door in answer to his knock and he cursed his lungs for never seeming to work properly in her presence. She looked beautiful and ... sad.

"I'm glad that you're here Grissom. We need to talk."

TBC...