"Second Chances – Part 12"

August 9, 2005 (Day 109)
Crime Lab
Grissom's Office
9:44 p.m.

Taking a seat behind his desk, Grissom heaved a heavy sigh as he stared at the photo frame in his hands. Lunch with his father had left him as vexed as his session with Dr Myers and the four hours of sleep he grabbed on the couch at home wasn't enough to restore his depleted body and exhausted mind.

During therapy he had to face the reality that his mother wasn't the saint he remembered; in fact he had to acknowledge she had been detrimental to him in several significant ways. At lunch he had to come to grips with the fact that his father hadn't always been a bad guy and admit that Ron was no longer the monster he had once believed.

While dealing with his new familial reality, Grissom went to his ENT appointment alone, instead of with Sara as planned. It was there that he finally received news that relaxed him instead of throwing him for yet another curve. The hearing test completed showed no change from the last one. It was wonderful news, but his excitement was short lived when he realized he couldn't throw his arms around Sara and tell her.

With Sara in mind and heeding Catherine's advice, he left the ENTs office and went shopping for a picture frame.

"Is that a picture frame you're holding?" Warrick inquired as he strolled into his boss's office.

"Hey, Warrick."

"Let me guess…it's of your champion cockroach racer." Smiling he took a seat.

"Good guess, but no."

"It's a personal picture?"

Grissom pulled the photo closer. "Uh…yes."

"Don't tell me you're finally going to give Sara a little desk space along with your bug paperweights?" He lifted one of the aforementioned desk ornaments as an example. "You're getting conventional, Gris."

"Yeah." He nodded lightly and tried to mask the sadness in his voice. "I guess so."

Holding out his hand, Warrick prodded, "Are you going to let me see it or is it one of those risqué photos and for your eyes only?"

"No, it's quite traditional." Relenting, Grissom handed over the silver framed wedding photo wondering exactly how much Catherine had told Warrick about the current situation.

Admiring the picture, Warrick remarked, "You two clean up real well." Sliding some papers out of the way, he gently placed the frame on his boss's desk. "There you go. Now you're officially an old married guy. And as I understand it, if Sara has her way, the next photo you'll bring in will be of your little rug rat."

It was then Grissom realized either Warrick knew nothing of the fight or he was trying to be optimistic.

"Damn. What a difference a year makes, huh?" Warrick shook his head as he kicked back. "It seems like just yesterday that you were desperate to find Sara and I had to run that credit card search on her Visa to locate her."

The second Grissom heard the words he lit up. He had checked for activity on their joint Visa account but with his mental capacity reduced, he hadn't thought to search under her old Sara Sidle credit card number.

"Then you guys hooked up and it's been happily ever af…"

"I need to check on something," Grissom blurted in the middle of Warrick's sentence.

"Sure thing, Boss." Warrick relaxed in the guest chair while Grissom rushed out of the room.

Ten seconds after Grissom's abrupt departure, Catherine sauntered in and chuckled, "Were you smooth so he thinks it was his idea?"

Without turning to look at her, he replied in a sexy voice, "Baby, when aren't I smooth?"

Jim Brass's Apartment
10:44 p.m.

Smoothing the Jasmine Vanilla massage oil over Heather's back as she lay topless in his bed, Jim grinned with delight. "How's that after a rough and tough evening at the dominion?" He fought the urge to shuck his clothes and slip under the covers with her.

In between moans she purred, "It's just what I need before I return for the next round at eleven-thirty. That Optometrist convention in town has us cracking our whips round the clock. Mmm…don't stop."

"Is that an order?" He teased as he drizzled another dose of oil over her glistening skin. "What else can I do for you tonight, My Lady?" He playfully inquired as he kneaded her knots. "Are there any other areas of your body that are needy?"

"Now that you mention it…" She groaned when Jim's doorbell buzzed and killed the moment. "Tell whoever is at the door that unless they're willing to lick my boots, they better beat it and let you get back to servicing me."

"I'm lovin' this mood of yours," He cackled. "After your submissive behavior in Vancouver, this is a nice change of pace."

The doorbell interrupted them once more.

Throwing a pillow at him, she snapped, "Why are you still here yakking?" Unable to keep up the ruse, she started laughing as she commanded, "Move your ass!"

Working the excess oil into his hands, he hustled out of the bedroom for the front door. Upon checking the peephole, he rolled his eyes and yelled back in the direction of the bedroom. "It's a needy little boy but don't get up, I can handle him."

"I heard that," Grissom barked from outside. "Open up, I need a signature."

Yanking open the door, Brass sighed, "Not a very good time."

Grissom's nose instantly picked up an out of place scent and out of habit he announced his findings. "Jasmine and Vanilla?"

"You like it? It's my new bubble bath," Jim quipped as he stepped outside to join Grissom and make it clear he wouldn't be invited in for a drink. "I got tired of plain old Mr. Bubble."

"She's in there," Grissom remarked in a tired voice.

"Yes, Einstein." Brass rolled his eyes. "And she's in charge tonight so make it snappy. If I piss her off, I'll be explaining why I have ligature marks on my wrists at tomorrow's staff meeting. What's up?"

"Uh…" Refocusing on the matter that brought him there, Grissom replied, "I'm concerned that Sara's old credit card might have been stolen from our home."

"Oh really." Brass couldn't contain his smile. "What makes you think that?"

He innocently and vaguely replied, "It's gone."

"Okay, sounds legit to me." Folding his arms across his chest, he asked, "How would you like to handle this crime?"

Holding up the proper paperwork, Grissom answered in a professional tone, "I'd like to run a search and see if there's been any activity on the card, but I need you to sign off on my request so no questions will be asked."

He took the form and the pen Grissom extended and quickly signed off. "And what kind of action will you be taking if you find there's been activity?"

"Protocol would dictate me to investigate. I'll most likely feel compelled to track down the person using the card." Producing a second form, he calmly said, "To handle it properly I'll need some time. I'd like to volunteer to use personal time."

Brass snatched the vacation request. "What will you say to the perp using the credit card?"

"It's not about words, Jim…it's about action, remember?" Smiling, he retrieved the official forms and dropped the ruse. "Thank you. Oh, and if you happen to speak with Sara, I'd appreciate you not alerting her about her credit card being under investigation. I'd prefer to tell her myself."

"Deal, but only because you caught me in a submissive mood," He grumped as he retreated inside and shut the door yelling, "Coming, Sweetie!"

Rolling his eyes, Grissom tucked the papers into his jacket pocket. "I wonder if she's his lobster?"

August 10, 2005 (Day 110)
Crime Lab
Layout Room
11:05 p.m.

Alone with Warrick for the first time that evening, Greg decided to pop the question. "Can I ask you something kinda personal?"

"Shoot," Warrick replied as he continued taking blood spatter measurements from the sheet.

"Everyone knows what Catherine used to do for a living." Taking a step closer, he lowered his voice, "Does it ever bother you when people bring it up? I don't mean playfully joking about it…I mean being salacious."

"That's ancient history." Then he realized why Greg was asking and adjusted his answer. "But even if she just stopped dancing last month, like Tawny, it wouldn't bother me that she was a dancer. The salacious comments..." He looked up from the sheet. "…those piss me off. But it has nothing to do with my relationship with Cath or the fact that she was a dancer. I get ticked because they're just plain degrading. I don't like when guys talk shit about a woman."

"You ever get in someone's face about it?" Greg inquired as he worked on his end of the sheet.

"Hell yeah." Returning his eyes to the bloody sheet, he chuckled, "But that's where it ended, you know what I'm saying? Unlike you, I've never had to actually touch someone to get them to shut up. Then again, I'm a little more intimidating than you, Greggy."

"Ah…yeah."

In a fraternal tone, he advised, "If Tawny is half as hot as Catherine makes her sound, then you gotta work on your stare down because guys are gonna be checking out your woman. When they do…it's your job to let them know they crossed the line." Suddenly he laughed again. "Your first step…putting lifts in your shoes so you can actually stare down some dudes."

Sighing, Greg moved his ruler. "I know….I know…I need to hit the gym more. I need broader shoulders."

"Nah, seriously, it's more about attitude than latitude." Glancing over at his co-worker, he teased, "Your mom is petite and she scared the crap out of Catherine and Grissom when she glared at them over the lab explosion. See…it should be in your genes, man. You just need to tap into your inner Scandinavian badass."

Greg took the advice to heart. "Tap into my inner Scandinavian badass and then channel it into an effective stare down." He nodded rapidly enough to disturb his severely sprayed hair. "I'll work on that at home in the bathroom mirror."

"Hey, if you want to see it in practice, come with me to pick up Lindsay from school one day. I've got those teenage boys so afraid of me they'll think twice before even holding her books. If your kid turns out to be a girl, trust me, you better have the stare down mastered before she hits puberty."

"I really hope it's a boy," He replied in a shaky voice.

"You'll still need it perfected because you'll have to teach him. Don't worry, I'll work on it with you." Warrick stood up and reached for his clipboard. "Now let's lighten up this conversation and discuss the perks of living with an ex-dancer who knows how to handle herself around a pole."

"Cool! Let me turn down the CD player and…" Greg froze in his tracks in response to Warrick's death glare.

Narrowing his gaze further, he warned in a low growl, "Nobody turns down Alicia Keys."

His arms in the air, Greg slowly backed away from the CD player. "Sorry."

Warrick burst out laughing. "I'm just messing with you, man. That was THE look."

"OH!" Greg relaxed. "I thought you really were…good one." Relieved, he reached for the volume control.

"Hey!" Warrick snipped. "I was serious about Alicia."

"Right."

LVPD
Fraud Division
11:32 p.m.

Wild with anticipation, Grissom paced behind Lucy Swain's desk waiting for her to access Sara's credit card information. He knew the ease with which Brass signed off on the request had nothing to do with catching him in a submissive mood. If Sara had told him not to help, he wouldn't have, which meant…she wasn't opposed to being found.

"Just give me another minute to type in the information from the warrant," Lucy informed her impatient guest. "You're wearing a hole in the floor."

"Sorry." Flashing a polite smile Grissom said, "I appreciate you giving this request priority."

"Ugh." Lucy griped, "I had a credit card stolen last year and it sucked. Turned out to be two teenage girls. Ran up four-thousand dollars in less than an hour." She feverishly typed as she spoke. "We caught them of course. Their daddies were so shocked to find out their precious little girls were criminals."

"Teenagers," He remarked because it was the only word he recalled hearing while he continued to pace.

"So tell your wife not to feel bad, it happened to me and I work in Fraud."

"I'll be sure to tell her." Closing his eyes for a second he focused on the sound of Sara's voice and the memory of her smile. How far away did she flee, he wondered? Maybe she was right around the corner holed up in one of the resorts.

"Oh yeah…there's activity," Lucy announced. "Looks like the thief decided to take a little vacation courtesy of your wife." Turning her computer screen toward Grissom she instructed, "Check this out."

Throwing on his glasses, he leaned in for a look and couldn't believe his eyes.

Lucy sighed, "Tahoe…the perfect place to escape the heat of Las Vegas."

America West Airlines – Las Vegas

Hertz Car Rental - Reno Airport

Shoreline Cabins - North Lake Tahoe

Tahoe Tommy's - North Lake Tahoe

Damon's Grill – North Lake Tahoe

Tahoe Tommy's – North Lake Tahoe

"Talk about leaving a breadcrumb trail, huh Grissom? I don't think it will be hard to find the perp."

"Yeah…" He replied through a smile. She picked Tahoe for a reason and he knew the message she was sending wasn't, find me and say you're sorry, it was, you have a second chance to make everything right so when you find me, you'll need to prove that you've changed since the first time you were here. "…she made it real easy."

"How do you know it's a she?"

Grinning, he replied, "Lucy…I'm the best profiler in the state, remember?" He helped himself to her computer. "I need to print this."

Rolling her chair away, she let him have all the room he needed. "I'll cancel the card when you're done printing."

"No, don't cancel it!" He blurted while clicking the print button.

"What?" Lucy was perplexed by the request. "Why?"

"Because it will alert her and I'd rather go for the element of surprise." His heart racing, he tore off the printout.

"Gotcha," Lucy replied to thin air as she noticed Grissom was already halfway down the hall.

Stuffing the printout in his pocket with one hand, Grissom yanked out his cell phone with the other.

Shoreline Cabins
11:41 p.m.

Having written everything she needed to write and having read every piece of reading material she found, Sara was curled up on the couch aimlessly flipping through the TV channels to pass the time.

A year ago this lifestyle was typical, but now, after enjoying the perks of cohabitation, the self-imposed solitude was unnerving. So, when the phone rang, she lunged for it, nabbing it on the first ring. "Hello."

"Hey, you answered on the first ring instead of waiting for the secret code." Brass teased, "You sound a little desperate. Are you getting cabin fever?"

"Something like that," She replied in a lighthearted tone while turning off the TV. "I'm feeling really good about something I accomplished and I didn't have anyone to tell so…"

"So you were hoping it was your husband calling."

She didn't want to admit it but yes, she wished it had been Gil. Her fortitude was crumbling and she found herself fighting the urge to pack up and head home. "Have you spoken to him lately?" Maybe a few more cryptic messages would be enough to renew her commitment to stay put and let him come to her.

"About an hour ago."

"And…" She chuckled. "Come on, you know the drill by now. Tell me what he said."

"You sound so much better, Sara."

"I am better." Sliding further down on the couch, she breathed easy. "Solitude has a way of forcing issues to the surface. It allowed me to deal with some stuff I've been avoiding for too long. Now I feel…unburdened." She sighed, "Well, except for one burden of course, but I'm very hopeful that will work out too…and soon."

"They say women have a sixth sense about this stuff, so I'm sure you're right."

"Yeah? I don't think I have that gift," She scoffed. "Do you have any idea how many times over the years I was certain Grissom was coming to his senses? You know how that went."

"Point taken."

"So…you still haven't answered my question." Sliding off the couch, she paced the room. "What did he say?"

"The thing is…I was rather indisposed at the time so I didn't have time to chat with him."

"The mystery woman?" She grinned as she puttered around the cabin. "I forgot about her. Come on…is it serious? I'm bored, give me details."

"Okay…Grissom asked for some time off."

Instantly forgetting her original line of questioning, she shrieked, "He did?"

"Yep. Made it official with a vacation request form and everything. Maybe he's going to try your approach and use time and solitude to gather his thoughts."

"How much time did he ask for?"

"Three days. Oh hey, I've got to grab my pager. I'll check in with you tomorrow, Sara."

"Okay," She replied in a distant voice as she clicked off the phone and began obsessing over her husband's possible plans and how she would react to each scenario.

August 10, 2005 (Day 110)
Crime Lab
Break Room
6:42 a.m.

Warrick and Catherine were sitting on the couch rehashing the details of the Stenelli case over coffee when Greg walked in with Tawny by his side. "We've got a visitor," He merrily announced while clipping the visitor badge on one of the loops of her low rise denim mini skirt.

Knowing it was her partner's first encounter with the blond bombshell who was wearing a tight red blouse over a fitted white tank, Catherine turned to catch Warrick's reaction. "Easy there…you can put your eyes back in your head now."

"Hi, Catherine! Nice to see you again!" Tawny enthusiastically greeted while bounding into the room. "And you must be Warrick Brown." Having been warned about the no personal space violations in the lab rule, she politely extended her hand. "I'm so happy to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

Standing up, Warrick shook the bubbly girl's hand. "Probably not as much as I've heard about you. Nice to finally put a face to your name." Smiling, he thought…more like a name and a face to the body Greg described in every detail a few weeks back. One glance at Tawny and he knew Greg was really going to have to work on acquiring The Look.

Catherine tossed her arm around the giddy girl, strolling her away from Warrick and towards the coffee pot. "How about a nice cup of lab brew?"

"Sorry…" She patted her belly and blurted, "No caffeine for baby Sanders."

Nick couldn't have stepped into the room at a better time. "Did your girlfriend just call you a baby, Greggo or are congratulations in order?" Now he wouldn't have to pretend not to know. "I'm assuming this is the lovely Tawny you've told us so much about."

"Oops." Tawny covered her mouth as she glanced over at Greg. "Sorry, Sweetie."

"It's okay." Greg shrugged. "Nick's part of the family."

"Congratulations, Man." Nick grabbed his buddy's hand and gave it a firm shake. "And Tawny…" He quickly crossed the room and threw his arms around her. "Welcome to our dysfunctional family." As he embraced her he confirmed…damn those aren't D cups, they're D plus!

Giggling from the brotherly bear hug, Tawny said, "Greg told me personal space violations weren't allowed in the lab."

"That's right, Stokes," Greg glared at Nick. "You uh…can let go of my girlfriend now."

Nick backed off, chuckling, "Sorry man."

Warrick swooped in with a pat on the back for his star pupil. "Nice stare down, Greg. I was feeling the Scandinavian badass."

"Cool…" Greg beamed with delight. "…I thought I was channeling."

Tawny gawked at her man, "Scandinavian badass?"

When Grissom entered the room, he shouted over the din, "Did I miss someone's birthday again?"

"Mr. Grissom!" Tawny forgot about her promise not to maul others and jumped at the chance to thank her savior with an overpowering embrace and words to match. "I loved therapy! It was so freeing! Thank you so much! You're the best!"

Accustomed to the traditional Tawny greeting and grateful that someone was happy to see him, Grissom didn't bristle from the physical assault. "I'm glad it worked out for you."

Nick folded his arms across his chest and teased Greg, "I see how this works…only the boss gets to enjoy your perky girlfriend's assets. Interesting way to suck up, Sanders. Maybe Gris will finally stop yelling at you now."

Warrick and Nick continued to taunt Greg while Catherine, the ever-observant one, noticed something shocking…not only was Grissom tolerating Tawny's personal space violation, he was actually returning her embrace. "Now that's progress," She mumbled under her breath while thinking, between Tawny's glowing endorsement of the wonders of therapy and Grissom's sudden comfort level touching an acquaintance, this Dr. Myers must be a miracle worker!

"Oh sorry!" Tawny jumped back and whispered as she moved to join her boyfriend in the corner of the room, "Greg told me not to touch anyone while visiting the lab."

"That's sound advice." Grissom smiled as Tawny returned to Greg's side. "There are a lot of lonely guys working here." Then he motioned to Catherine as he stepped into the hallway. "I need to speak with you for a moment."

Strutting over, she joked, "Don't expect a hug because my girls aren't up for following Tawny's D cups."

"You know she's over friendly that's why she pounces on me every time you see us together."

"Yeah, that and she worships the ground you walk on. You should have heard her talking about you over coffee with me yesterday." Leaning against the wall, Catherine grinned, "She considers you a surrogate father. How old does that make you feel?"

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he replied, "I must be looking better if you're giving me crap."

"You do." She studied his eyes. "What's up?"

"I've requested the next three nights off and I would appreciate it if you would supervise the shift. Carlos from Swing wants more hours and he will work for you."

Pleased that the end of the crisis was near, Catherine sighed, "Where is she?"

Cocking his head and smiling, he broke the news. "Tahoe."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

"Do you have a plan?" She nosed. "Because don't think it's going to be easy like last time."

"I think I have a plan," He bashfully admitted. "I think it's a good one too."

"Oh damn it." Catherine threw her arms around him. "I have to wish you good luck. Just don't you dare compare my rack with hers."

"Catherine…" He accepted the hug and returned it. "She thinks of me as a father figure, so I assure you, I'm not assessing her rack when she hugs me."

"You're lucky you returned my hug because if you returned hers and not mine…"

"Hey now!" Brass shouted as he walked down the hall. "No one told me it's swap partners day. I want to play!"

Stepping back, Grissom raised his brow at Jim. "But you're already playing."

Brass broke into an evil grin. "Look who's feeling better. So when are you leaving for cough Tahoe cough, genius."

Utilizing Jim's favorite bait and switch technique, Grissom replied, "You haven't met Greg's girlfriend Tawny yet. She's in the Break Room." He pointed. "The hot blond wearing the little skirt and giggling."

"Out of the way folks," Brass yelled as he tore into the Break Room. "Sanders! I need an introduction."

"Smooth," Catherine said approvingly.

"I absorbed that trick from him." Grissom checked his watch. "Shift is over and I need to get home. Thanks for covering…for everything…I…"

"Go on…" Nudging him, she groaned, "…get out of here before you get sappy like your wife in those silly little love notes she writes 'ya."

"Yeah…" He nodded while walking away. "Exactly."

Like a proud mom, she watched him until he disappeared. Then sighing, she re-entered the Break Room to rescue Tawny who had obviously made the mistake of hugging the Assistant Director.

"Okay Jim, back away from the blonde!"

Laughing, Brass held up his hands. "I was merely welcoming her into our dysfunctional family."

Greg snipped, "That's what Nick said."

"And where do you think Nick gets his lines from?" Brass pointed to himself. "The master. Isn't that right, Stokes?"

"Yes, Boss." Nick tipped his non-existent cowboy hat.

Taking Tawny by the hand, Greg led her out of the room. "Nick, I'm going to give her a quick tour and then take her to breakfast across the street. Then I'll be back to put in another eight hours to help out your shift."

"Nice meeting you all." Tawny waved as Greg hurried her out of the room.

Nick grabbed a twenty from his wallet and called out, "Here…breakfast is on me. Congrats again Papa Sanders." The guilt of sizing up Tawny's rack was working on him. "Enjoy breakfast."

Brass stood gaping like a fish.

Warrick placed a supportive hand on the big boss's shoulder. "I know…shocking!"

"What the f…" Brass shook his head. "Did Sanders find a lamp with a genie inside?"

"You think you're shocked," Catherine guffawed, "Wait 'til he takes her to Trace and Kevin finds out that Greg's straight."

"No shit." Warrick knew first hand how bad Kevin took that kind of news.

Returning to the room, Nick let out a cowboy yelp. "Damn, just think how big those puppies are gonna get when she's breast feeding!" Hustling to the coffee pot, he shared his thoughts. "You know, I've heard about plenty of women getting pregnant to trap a guy, but my friends…I think we have the first case of a guy trapping a girl by impregnating her."

Already on overload, Brass blurted, "She's having his kid!"

After sipping from his mug, Nick pondered, "I wonder what he'll ask from the genie for his third and final wish?"

Catherine had no problem coming up with an answer. "Duh…for Mama Sanders to approve so he gets to keep her!"

DNA Lab
7:06 a.m.

Greg held open the door for Tawny to step inside. "This is where I used to work as a DNA Lab Tech before I switched to CSI."

Max was just wrapping up for the day when he spied a bodacious babe. "Heaven called earlier and said they were missing an angel…and here she is."

"Does that line ever work for you, because it never worked for me?" Greg chuckled, "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Tawny."

"Nice to meet you." Max held out his hand and sighed. "How did Sanders find you before I did?"

"Mr. Grissom set us up," She replied while shaking hands.

"Wow…" Max didn't recall that service mentioned in the Employee Handbook. "How many years do I have to work for Grissom before he helps me find a gorgeous woman?"

"Sorry pal…it's a CSI right of passage thing."

"Ah." Max grabbed his briefcase. "You couldn't pay me to do your job, Sanders. Way too dangerous and too disgusting. Nice meeting you, Tawny." He flashed a bright smile. "And I stand by my original statement…any woman who can put up with Greg has to be an angel."

"Nice meeting you, Max." As soon as he was gone, Tawny turned to Greg. "Everyone is so nice here. Hodges really is an exception."

"Yeah." Greg grabbed a sterile swab. "Okay, open up and let me grab a sample. Then, as promised, I'll be able to run it and bring home a report to show you your DNA profile."

The Grissoms'
7:22 a.m.

After kicking off his shoes, Grissom reclined against the pillow and blanket he had left on the couch the day before and closed his eyes. Exhaustion was not the right state to be in when he made his move, so he would force himself to get some rest.

Last night, once he found out Sara was in Tahoe, he called Southwest Airlines to check flight times to Reno, fully prepared to drive to the airport and hop on the next one. But when he took a seat behind the wheel of his car, he changed his mind.

He had already shown up groveling on Sara's doorstep once in his lifetime and he didn't think it wise to take the same pathetic route. By now, if she felt anything like he did, one look and all would be forgiven and a quick, emotional decision was the last thing he wanted or felt she deserved.

No, a different approach was needed. One that showed action had been taken.

As his breathing relaxed and sleep loomed on the horizon, he envisioned the way things would go this time...

The Egg Stop
7:31 a.m.

Drizzling syrup over her short stack of pancakes, Tawny sweetly said, "Greg, thanks for inviting me to come to work and meet everybody. Every time I hear you tell someone I'm your girlfriend it makes me feel a little more legit."

He was surprised to hear she still had doubts. "Sweetie, I told my mom about you and I'm bringing you to meet her next month. It doesn't get more legit than that. I've never done that with another girl." He chuckled, "Or guy as Kevin from Trace would have you believe."

"Oh my god! That guy was so bummed to find out you were straight!" She chuckled into her pancakes. "And then he still held out hope that I was just your beard!"

"Next thing you know people will think I got you pregnant on purpose to prove I'm not gay." Dashing hot sauce on his omelet he laughed hysterically…until he realized Tawny wasn't laughing with him. "What? Oh come on you don't really think that, do you! You think I had something to prove?"

"Umm…well…" She chomped on her bottom lip just long enough to get him going. "Gotcha!"

"Nice bluff. Maybe you should play a little poker while I'm covering day shift." He drove his fork into his eggs. "While I didn't have anything to prove, I'll admit I'm impressed with my outstanding virility…" He winked, "One take is all it took."

Tawny raised her glass of orange juice. "Must have been the Scandinavian badass sperm in you."

"Yeah…and most people think Scandinavians are great hockey players, not swimmers."

The Grissoms'
11:26 a.m.

In the distance he heard his name.

"Gil…"

Tossing and turning on the couch he fought to open his eyes.

"I'm home," Sara sang out. "I couldn't wait another minute."

"Sara?" He groggily replied as his eyes fluttered open. "But…" When she took a seat on the edge of the couch he burst into a radiant smile. "I was supposed to come to you."

"I know." She heaved a heavy sigh in his direction. "But you didn't. Apparently you were too busy napping." Her voice turned icy. "So much for you being a man of action."

Stunned by her presence and her harsh tone, he groveled, "You don't understand…"

"That line sounds familiar," She scoffed. "Isn't that what I tried to tell you a thousand times when you were screaming at me the other day?"

He couldn't believe this was really happening. "Please…if you give me a chance to explain…"

"I'm pretty sure I said that one several times too and it didn't get me anywhere." Turning her eyes to the ceiling she huffed, "I really thought you would get it right this time."

"I had a plan!" He pleaded. "I had it all figured out…I just needed a little more time to work on it and I was tired because…"

The alarm sounding on her wristwatch halted his words and he watched in horror as she pointed at the digital time. "See…you're late."

"No!"

The buzzing got louder.

"Sara! Please!"

Panting, he bolted upright on the couch and realized it was his watch buzzing. It was his wake up call. So was the nightmare he just had.

Throwing his feet to the floor, he took off for his office.