DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

Sara turned on her flashlight and pointed it toward the fan on the ceiling, blood dripping from it. Lowering the light to the body on the floor, she saw another proof of what happens when one chooses a fan to be used as a murder weapon.

"Well, that's ugly," Nick said behind her.

"Murder always is," Sara replied and took out her camera.

"How was your weekend?" he asked.

"Hm?" She barely heard him.

"You went somewhere or stayed in good old Vegas?"

"Oh, uh, no I was at a friend's ranch."

"Sweet. Had a good time?"

Sara lowered her camera and looked over at him. "Had to cut it short for a day 'cause of work but besides that it was alright." It would have turned out to be a great weekend had it not been for that embarrassing incident in Grissom's room. There had never been a better moment where she was more than grateful that the lights were not working.

Nick accepted that answer with a nod and a smile before opening his field kit. "Grissom also had the weekend off, I heard."

Sara put on a surprised look on her face.

"Yeah, him taking a vacation, hard to believe." Nick shook his head and took out a pair of gloves.

Sara forced a smile. "Yeah….," she said and focused her camera again.

He came to the living room to find it empty. Grissom turned around when he heard some footsteps.

"Hey, Gil," Roberta greeted him with a smile and a small bouquet of flowers in her hands.

"Good morning," Grissom smiled back at her. "Where is she?"

"She's in the garden," Roberta told him.

"Thanks," Grissom replied.

He found her sitting behind a – what he assumed to be – painted canvas, alone in the garden, surrounded by flowers of different colors. Vera loved flowers. The small rosy hairpin just above her left ear and the dress with a realistic imprint of a rainbow… if a rainbow could be captured in that way were a true reflection of her character: a truly bright, optimistic character. She didn't notice him at first, her eyes focused on the painting. Grissom felt happy seeing her like this. Probably because she seemed happy, trouble-free even.

When she finally noticed her son, Vera grinned and began standing up, her weight still supported by her cane. By the time Grissom approached to give her assistance; she had already managed on her own. She might have rushed it, wanting to show him that she was indeed fine on her own despite her age.

"You're early today," she told him.

"I had time," he replied.

Vera smiled. "I didn't expect you for another hour or so."

"Why is that?"

"Well, for one thing, you didn't give me time to gift-wrap your present."

"My present?"

"Yeah, but… oh hell, here you go." Vera stepped aside and showed it to Grissom.

The moment his eyes landed on the picture, words were taken away from him. The gaze, the faces… everything felt so real on this canvas. Vera always had that artistic touch of bringing an eerie realism to her paintings, but this time it drew out something more from this theme. It felt like a photograph for him… it had been a photograph, or at least a good imitation of it.

He and Sara were standing there with mild smiles on their faces. A stranger could easily notice the lack of ease here. She had focused on the eyes though. Grissom found himself staring at the painting a little too long.

"Do you like it?" Vera asked him.

"It's amazing," he said. "This is why you took that photo?"

She nodded. "It was an excellent inspiration. And…" she shrugged. "I might as well keep painting while my eyesight is still good and my hand still steady." She walked over to the purple flowers that were close to where her brushes sat. Vera picked a flower. They had already been cut. "Her face was easy to draw out. She has interesting lines. Maybe you could ask her to come when she has some free time. I would like to do a portrait of her."

Grissom's left lip curled up. "I'll have that in mind."

"She's such a unique creature."

"Yes, she is…"

"Sara told me Jack and Cynthia invited her…."

"So, is that what you two talked about after breakfast?"

"Well, I asked her what else she did despite work… guess who she reminded me of with her answers…."

"I should try not to."

Very chuckled. "So, they invited her…"

"They did."

"Not you."

"No."

"They must like her."

"They do." Grissom sighed. He could tell where his mother was going with this. "She is a friend."

"Is she a good a friend?"

He pressed his lips and reluctantly nodded.

"Good, I'm glad." Vera suddenly closed her eyes as an aching feeling reached her.

"Mom?"

"Oh, I'm fine, just my leg…" she replied and opened her eyes.

"You shouldn't be standing."

"You don't say. I'm sicker from laying down all the time than actually doing myself some good with walking."

"That was a long talk you two had."

"Yes, it was." She shook her head. "It was sad seeing a nice girl like that being single."

"Um, yeah."

"Oh, dear…" she sighed. "It brought back so many of my thoughts about you…"

"Well that can't be good," he explained with a joking face but seeing the opposite expression on his mother's, Grissom quickly changed it.

"I sometimes assumed you never stayed in a relationship because you were afraid it might end up like it did with your father and I."

Grissom's face was cold to this. He cared little of his other parent. He did not need more reminders. "That has never been the reason."

"Maybe. You were too closed, Gil. You still are. You always liked your hobbies and later your work more than anything. I respect that, I always have, even if it made me worry about you." She touched his cheek. "I don't want you to end up like me, Gil." She shook her head.

"You were more happy on your own than when you were with dad," he said.

"That's not entirely true. We were very happy one time. We grew out of it unfortunately, but we were happy. Art kept me busy, you kept me busy… but that's over now. I even think sometimes that you follow my footsteps. I've never discouraged you from it but… sadly, I think I should start to."

"I am happy, mom."

"Are you? You've got a good position at work as a supervisor, but we both know you're not crazy about it. You go home to an empty apartment…" She paused. "I still remember when you came up to me that morning just before your eleventh birthday. You told me you wanted to observe the mantis population in Malaysia." Vera smiled. "You were so excited about that. You were always excited about insects."

"That hasn't changed."

"No, no it hasn't. At least your enthusiasm about them hasn't." She touched his cheek again. "I don't know if Sara is someone you could care enough to love, Gil. I hope she is. I like her. She seems to have a kind soul… like yourself. Half of your life has already been faithful to work… let the other half be faithful to a person that can love you." She waited for his reaction, her eyes both sad and hopeful.

Grissom nodded. He understood her concern. He only wished he was brave enough to act on what he felt.

"I wish I could've heard her voice. What is it like?" she asked him.

Grissom wondered for a second. His right lip curled up. "It's like honey," he told her.

"Oh, that's beautiful. A voice like that to whisper a sweet song at night to you, and wake you in the morning… imagine how beautiful it could be."

Grissom smiled nervously to this.

"I pictured you going to some distant countries, studying an unknown specie of some insect, away from politics, from the chaos of the rest of the world… and maybe, with someone by your side. And in every picture, Gil… In every picture like that that I have?... you are happy. I believe that has always been your real dream…" She sighed. "I still dream of living for the day when I see you truly happy… and … if I could be even luckier, to see a baby in your arms. Someone to be here when you are gone." She squeezed his hand. Her eyes then lowered to the floor. "Sometimes though, I think that's all it is… only a dream…."

He glanced at the painting. If he could hear that disappointment in her voice, his heart would break.

"You could give it as a present to Sara if you want," Vera said. She tapped his hand. "Don't let her go, Gil."

He said nothing to that.

If she opened her mouth one more time to give a yawn, she would have surely swallowed the entire lab. And if she hadn't given an accidental glance to her left, she would have kept walking, out of the lab and towards her home.

She saw him sitting there on that table, documents scattered before him; face focused, eyebrows furrowed, eyeglasses beginning to slip to the edge of his nose. Sara stopped in front of the entrance, watching him. There was no one else in the hallway…. Almost as if ghosts had taken over the place instead of the living. She imagined a bulldozer driving past and Grissom ignoring it as if it had never happened.

She walked inside. "Hey," she said softly.

He looked up. "Hey. Going home?" His index finger pushed his glasses back.

"Was about to… Uh, I thought you were gonna do that also."

"Yes, but Jack sent me some papers to look over for him so I'm going to be here a little longer," he said and looked down at the documents.

"Research?" she asked.

"Mm….."

"Need some help?" she suddenly offered.

He looked up at her again. "It's complicated," Grissom replied with a low smile.

She snorted and crossed her arms. "Thanks for the confidence, Grissom?"

"I'm sorry. But honestly, this will be boring for you."

"I can't say much is waiting for me back at my apartment so, perhaps I could make this night easier for you."

His eyebrows furrowed again. "Aren't you tired?"

"You're asking a fellow workaholic that question?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

He smirked. "Please…" he offered her the chair opposite him.

She smiled in response and sat down. "What do we have?" Sara took the few papers Grissom handed to her. She was surprised. "I thought they were extinct," she asked of the species of rare beetle.

"Apparently not. Jack found several of them in India."

"Well, that's odd. Weren't they only present in Europe?"

"So far the theory of them being transferred to the Asian continent during the colonial era is being discussed."

"Hmm…."

Six hours later….

Sara moved her neck, hearing a few bones cracking. She felt tired but not as much as to give up and call it a night. Putting the pen down, she stood up. "Want some tea?" she asked.

"I'm good, thanks," Grissom declined.

She circled the table to stand behind him. She took some hot water and a tea bag. Taking a sip, she turned around and leaned back. She would have walked back to her seat had she not seen the tired movements his neck and shoulders made. She tilted her head. He must be tired. "How are you doing?" Sara asked him.

"I'm fine."

"You need a neck massage," she said and smiled. "Maybe from a professional."

"Waste of money."

"Okay," she replied softly and took another sip. Another movement of his made her worry this time. Sara set the cup down and reached forward.

Grissom almost jumped to the unexpected touch on his shoulders, so close to his neck. Her fingers moved down, taking his skin and then up… diverse movements – some soft and gentle, and others harder. He would have politely told her to stop and return to work if possible…. In the past he would have told her that. But moments have been changing so much between them that if anything…. He welcomed her action now.

Sara glanced toward the hallway. There was no one there. It was safe to do this. "Then… how about from an amateur?" she said tenderly.

Grissom didn't give an answer. Every movement – soft or hard – was untying the tight knots forming endlessly in his back and shoulder. She touched his neck and moved down again and with it closed Grissom's eyes. Sara's movements were slow… incredibly, thoughtfully slow. One hand moved left; another hand went up. The knots were coming undone…. The tension was slowly releasing itself by the pressure of her fingers on his skin, with a thin cotton barrier of his shirt.

Anyone else would have dared to touch him and he would have freaked. Sara touched him and he was as tame as a domestic cat. The departure of the tension took away the fences around his neck with it, letting the head hang; he sighed quietly enough so she would not hear him.

"Oh." Warrick suddenly stopped at the doorway, finding Grissom and Sara here and like this.

Sara immediately withdrew her hands and Grissom opened his eyes.

"Hey, Warrick. Still on duty?" she asked him.

"Uh, yeah… I'm pulling a double, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," she chuckled and grabbed her tea.

"Anyway… I just came in to get myself some coffee," he said and walked over to the coffee machine.

"Sure," she smiled and sat back in her chair, exchanging a quick glance with Grissom who remained unusually quiet.

"I thought you two had left for the day," Warrick tried to make some conversation, hiding the fact that this had been as uncomfortable for him as it was for the other two people in the room.

"Something came up," Grissom responded.

He took his cup and walked back to the entrance. "Have fun," Warrick said and walked away.

Sara looked at Grissom. He looked back. Both quickly returned to their work. Not much was left….

"That was pretty good for an amateur," Grissom then said from his papers.

She looked up at him and smiled to this. He returned that was a soft and short smile of his own.

Work called again….

"Why do I keep witnessing these things?" Warrick told himself and huffed. Always at the wrong place in the wrong time.