A/N: Inara, paragraph one's a nod to you. I was stuck, and your review suddenly gave me the nudge I needed to start this chapter. Thanks. Also, thanks to my sister who lets me use her as a sounding board for story ideas.

Chapter 11

Sara wasn't ready for them when they came. Three months had passed since she had seen any of her coworkers, excluding Grissom and this afternoon's visit from Catherine. Okay, so they had seen her yesterday, but that didn't count. If anything, that made it worse. Thoughts of barricading herself in the bathroom, using all of the hospital's machines to block the door, occurred to her. She might have done it too, if she had been alone. Somehow, she couldn't see herself talking Grissom into her plan. Though the idea of Grissom locked in a room with no way to escape did have some merit. Shame she wasn't in a position to do anything about it. Someday.

Warily she watched the clock, the hands moving all too quickly. Visiting hour had begun. It was as if they had been waiting out in the hallway for a soundless bell to ring. The second the clock's hand hit six, there was a knock on the already open hospital door.

"Hey, girl. Up for some company?" Warrick was the first one to enter the room. He came with arms overflowing. In one hand he carried a vase of gerber daisies, in the other a gold box with the familiar 'See's Candy' logo printed on it. Under his arm was a large brown teddy bear.

"Hi, Warrick," she replied bashfully, accepting the teddy bear and gesturing to the table for the other gifts.

"Hope your hungry, because I brought contraband." Nick was the next to enter. He carried in familiar white paper boxes.

"Oh, God. Please tell me that's what I think it is." Sara perked up at the prospect of her favorite meal.

"Yup." He smiled, pleased that inspiration had struck on the drive from home to the hospital. He knew from his own experience the food here was not great. "I got all your usual selections."

"Sorry, bear." Sara abandoned the stuffed animal to the floor in favor of the food.

"That's harsh," Warrick joked.

"Oh, not that one." Nick stopped her from opening the carton in her hand. She looked perplexed. Nick turned the box around to show her a large black 'X' scrawled on the side.

"I had them mark this one so it didn't get mixed up with the others," he explained. "It's sweet and sour pork, for Griss."

Grissom stared at Nick. He was touched that he would think of such a thing. Surprised, too. For some reason it always surprised him when people did things like that for him. Maybe he was too cynical. Maybe Catherine was right. They were building a family, around him.

"You look so much better then you did yesterday." Greg somehow managed to walk into the room and put his foot in his mouth, all at the same time. Nick was closest to the lab-tech-turned-CSI, and used his advantage to elbow him in the ribs. They had already agreed that they weren't going to mention yesterday's visit to the hospital. No one wanted to make Sara more self conscious then she already was.

"Sorry. I just meant... it's good to see you, Sara. We've missed you." Greg also came bearing bouquets. No normal arrangements of flowers for him, though. In one hand he grasped the ribbons that lead to a dozen mylar balloons. In the other he held a collection of decorated sugar cookies on sticks. Each one was frosted differently, but the piece de resistance was a large cookie in the middle of the arrangement, covered in a pattern of lines and whirls that looked exactly like a fingerprint.

It was almost like old times. Under Grissom's watchful eye, Sara ate a little bit of food from each of the Thai food cartons. What she didn't finish was passed around to the rest of the group. Grissom sat in the corner, taking his more comfortable position as observer rather the participant. It was impossible for him to be totally passive, though, as the others kept pulling him into the conversation.

"Did you tell Sara about that woman? The one with all those gnomes in her yard?"

Grissom shook his head, motioning for Warrick to tell the story.

"So Griss and I get to this house. There had to be at least thirty of those little yard gnomes on the front lawn."

"At least," Grissom agreed.

"Really, pretty creepy sight." Warrick rolled his eyes at the memory.

"We get inside to find David already examining the DB. When we got back to the lab, Doc Robbins tells us cause of death is blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Took a while to figure out the murder weapon. Turns out, the wife found out her husband was having an affair, and she hit him with the first thing she picked up. A lawn gnome. Death by yard art."

Everyone in the room burst into laughter, even though they had all heard the story before. It was such a relief to be able to just be together.

"I knew there was a reason I never liked the look of those things," Sara commented when the laughter subsided.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Greg started jumping in place like an eager schoolboy calling for the teacher's attention. There was a gleam of mischief in his eyes. "Someone has to tell Sara about the case with Nick and the cows."

"No, man." Nick was quick with his denial. "I think Sara would much rather hear the story about you and the club. You know, that club?"

Sara look from Nick to Greg, amused to see that Greg had turned a deep red color. Embarrassed? Was this the same Greg who kept porn magazines in the lab and bragged about his liking liquid latex and mineral oil rubs? Definitely something she had to find out. Ignoring Greg's puppy dog eyes, Sara turned to Nick.

"Tell me the story."

"I'm just going to... go find... I'll be back." Greg hurried out of the room, leaving a victorious and relieved Nick behind to regale his friend with an amusing tale full of sex, murder, and a CSI that somehow managed to handcuff himself to a rather large piece of evidence.

Greg returned to a room full of laughter.

"I never figured you for bondage, Greggo," Sara teased.

Greg covered his face with his hands and leaned against the nearest wall, sliding down until he sat on the floor. Slowly he removed his hands, revealing a cocky grin.

"Why, you interested?" he teased.

Grissom glared at him.

The next hour passed quickly. The three members of the night shift took turns entertaining Sara with the funny, bizarre, and odd cases they had worked in the past months. Carefully they stayed away from the harder stories, the ones involving rape, assault, and violence against children. Even under normal circumstances those were stories they rarely shared, each finding their own way to cope with those particular cases.

Somehow Warrick, Nick, and Greg kept managing to top each other in their stories. Even Grissom got one in, involving Hodges and a piece of evidence that repeatedly disappeared from his lab. Grissom was watching Sara when he noticed that her eyes were dropping. She saw him watching her, and tried to hide her exhaustion by opening her eyes wider then normal. He was not fooled.

"Guys, work starts in a couple of hours, and Sara needs her rest. Time to say your goodbyes." No one questioned his authority, whether because they were used to it at work or because they understood the protective nature of his relationship with Sara, they did not think to argue with his declaration. Quickly saying their goodbyes, they left the room.

"Bye Sara."

"See you tomorrow."

"Take care, girl."

Grissom walked them to the elevator.

"How is she doing, really?" Nick was the one brave enough to broach the subject they had avoided all night.

Grissom sighed. He knew it was wishful thinking to hope that they wouldn't ask any questions. After all, they were investigators.

"She's... better. The doctor said she could go home tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. After she recovers from the surgery she still has chemo."

The guys all looked dismayed. In all their worry about Sara being in the hospital, none of them had thought of the bigger picture.

"Chemo. That sucks. My Grams went through that." Warrick shook his head slowly, remembering.

"You coming to work tonight?" Greg inquired.

"I'll be there. Tell Catherine to pass out the assignment slips if I'm late."

The elevator arrived, and departed again, taking with it three CSIs.

Grissom returned to Sara's room to find that his chair had been claimed. Brass's boisterous voice could be heard even outside the room.

"Hey, kid, how you doing?"

Grissom stopped just inside the room, and turned so that Brass could see his face but Sara couldn't. 'She needs to sleep,' he mouthed. Brass rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively at his friend. Someone's a bit overprotective.

"I'm going to get a cup of coffee," Grissom told Sara. "I'll be right back."

'Five minutes,' he mouthed to Brass as he left. Brass gave him a wry grin.

Instead of getting coffee, Grissom went downstairs and walked out of the building. Nine o'clock at night, and the relatively nice weather of the day had transformed into a cold night, complete with wind. He could see the water vapor of his breath crystalize in the cold air. It looked like little clouds of smoke, and Grissom had a sudden craving for a cigarette. It had been years since he had smoked. After all, what self respecting scientist could ignore the research on tobacco and its dangers. But sometimes, after a difficult case or a particularly long day, he itched to light a cigarette and breath in the toxic smoke. Those were the days when he drove down the strip to the New York, New York and rode the roller coaster until the craving went away or the tension drained from him.

Grissom resisted the urge to do either now. He didn't want to return to Sara's room smelling like cigarette smoke, and the coasters were too far away. It was bad enough that he had to leave Sara to go to work. He wasn't going to go any sooner then he had to. So he sat on the curb outside the hospital, shivering in the night air. In another minute he would go back inside, but first he took a few deep breaths, trying to force the tension out of his body as he exhaled. He hoped tonight would be a light one at work. The last thing he needed to deal with was a difficult case. Maybe I'll take the smash and grabs tonight.

Brass was just leaving when Grissom once again walked down the white hallway to Sara's room.

"You remember what I said, right?" Brass watched Sara carefully, waiting for her acknowledgment.

"Yeah. I promise." Sara was trying to hide a yawn as she nodded to the homicide captain.

"Night, Brass. Thanks for..." She couldn't keep back the yawn any longer.

"Goodnight, Sara. Gil, I'll see you at work?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, I'm off to catch some bad guys." Brass sent one more satiric grin in Sara's direction before leaving.

Grissom resumed his former seat. He straightened out her blankets and pushed the bedside table away.

"What did Brass make you promise?"

"Oh, the usual. Let him know if I need anything. Promise to ask for help in the future. He likes to..." meddle, she wanted to say, but that sounded rude. He simply felt the need to put his two cents in when he noticed something happening that he didn't like. It was a repeat of the cough drop lecture a couple of years ago. Brass simply wanted to make it clear that she wasn't alone, and needed to remember that. Or else he would remind her, again.

Sara's eyes closed before she could think of a way to end her thought. Grissom pulled away, thinking she needed to sleep.

"Grissom?" she spoke, eyes cracked open.

"I'm still here." He reached out for the hand closest to him and held it.

"Will you stay for a little bit? I know you need to go to work." She hated her weakness, but she didn't want to be alone tonight.

"I'll stay, Sara. The world will not end if I'm late to work."

"Are you sure?" Sara joked. "I think that's one of the signs of the apocalypse. Gil Grissom, late to work."

"Funny. Your one to talk about spending too much time at work."

Grissom was not surprised when Sara didn't have a snappy comeback. Her answer was a soft snore.

The sounds outside her door combined with the light streaming in through her window woke Sara up in the morning. Her first thought was that today might be the day she got to go home. Her second was that there was a weight pressing against her leg. She looked down to see Grissom bent over, sitting in the chair while using her thigh as a pillow. He must have come straight from work. The clothes he wore were disheveled, and she wondered when the last time he had been home was.

Grissom's face was not a picture of tranquil sleep. His brow was furrowed in a series of tension lines, and his jaw was obviously tightly clenched. She reached out to caress his face, wishing she could draw out the tension with the simple movement. Her fault. The stress he wore on his face was because of her. Her cancer. This, she admitted to herself, was part of the reason she had tried to sneak away those many months ago. She didn't want anyone else to have to pay the price for her disease.

The motion of fingers trailing across his skin was enough to wake Grissom out of his light sleep. He sat up, automatically burying the tension lines under the calm outer mask he so often wore. He reached up and mimicked her own actions of a minute ago, running his fingers along the side of her face.

"Good morning."

"Griss, you didn't have to come here. You need your sleep. You should be at home, in your own bed." Sara pushed the button on the edge of her bed, holding it until she was raised to a sitting position.

Grissom leaned into her, silencing her protests when he brushed his lips against hers in an almost-casual kiss.

"I wanted to wake up with you."

To be continued...