Boisterous laughter and loud strains of music wafted over the evening air, tickling her ears while twinkling lights, shining like miniature stars, winked at her from afar. Sara, her elegant attire in direct contrast to her solemnity, sat alone, boredom having overcome her even before she'd arrived and she now wished heartily that she could've been left at home. Catherine and Warrick had offered to pick her up for the fund-raiser, and although she'd tried to gently decline their offer, they'd insisted.

So now, here she sat, alone and miserable, tapping her foot idly against the leg of the table while she watched her work mates and other couples dancing, laughing and having a merry time. It should've been her out there... dancing and laughing, having the time of her life. And although she had danced once with Nick and even once with Warrick, she couldn't quite get into the spirit of the festivities. After her dance with Warrick, she made some lame excuse and wandered off, first to the bar to get a glass of the bubbly red champagne that she'd come to enjoy and finding an empty table, she took a seat and had been there ever since. The quiet solitude fit her mood, and so there she sat, nursing her drink and wishing she'd been able to meet up with Aeric the weekend before. But instead, the person she'd thought would be escorting her wasn't there. And that could only be her fault.

A week earlier, she was to have met Aeric in Pahrump, but was unable to. She'd arrived the following night only to find that he wasn't there. Her fears had become reality.

And within that time, Grissom, surmising that something had shifted in her relationship with this new man, had tried to regain her trust by working with her closely on the few cases they'd shared in the last several days. And had he'd made this attempt months ago, she would've accepted his attentions with wide-open arms. It just wasn't in her heart anymore.

Bubbling with effervescence, she picked up her glass and sipped it. If nothing else, no one would say anything to her about the drink. Only Grissom had ever said anything and she had to believe deep down that no matter how much he'd hurt her in the past, he'd never go over that line. Grissom detested gossip as much she did. He'd never said as much, but his character told it all. No... That was Catherine's arena.

The thought of Catherine sparked her interest in where the strawberry blonde had taken off to, having left their table during Warrick and Sara's dance. The sudden interest in the dayshift supervisor's whereabouts had her searching the crowd.

In another part of the festivities...

Catherine sauntered up to the bar, tossed her purse to the counter and smiled flirtatiously with the bartender. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

With a wink, she drawled, "A tall, cool Long Island Ice Tea."

The bartender smiled appreciatively at the view she was giving him and turned to make the drink. While he was busy, Catherine swiveled around in her chair to take in the people closest to her. There was a couple on her right that she vaguely recognized, probably someone from accounting she surmised. And on her left, not quite up to the bar, stood an olive skinned, well-dressed handsome man, his hair cropped close on the sides, the crown slightly longer and a recently trimmed beard, part goatee and part three-day stubble.

She watched him searching the room, ostensibly looking for someone. He turned to her and she was caught staring.

He smiled kindly.

"Looking for someone?" she asked.

He was a little startled to be addressed, but recovered quickly, stepping up next to her at the bar. "I am. But I'm not sure she's even here."

"You don't know if your date is here?"

Chuckling, he explained, "This isn't her type of thing."

"Are you meeting her here?"

"No. She doesn't even know I'm in town."

"Oh. Well, this is a fundraiser for the Police Department and the Crime Lab. Does she work for one of them?"

"She's an investigator… forensics."

Catherine sat back against the cushioned rail of the bar, sizing him up. "Really. What's her name?"

"Sara Sidle."

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to notice that Sara hadn't returned and the team quickly chose Warrick to retrieve the wayward woman. When he'd spied her down the long tables and outside of the arranged seating area, he couldn't help but feel her loneliness. And he knew that it wasn't because of them, but rather had something to do with the person who had sent her those flowers weeks ago. He didn't know what happened, but he thought the man was a fool for not being here, whether he was supposed to be or not.

He approached her quietly, not disturbing her solitude until he took the seat next to her. Even when he pulled the chair away from the table, it did not stir her from her deep daydream, but his sudden touch on her shoulder did.

She blinked once, twice, and then gazed at him.

"What're you doing sitting here by yourself?" he asked.

Sara shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I don't know. It's quieter here."

Warrick glanced around, noting the lack of people in the area. Sara was a loner, they all knew that, but they also knew that she didn't really want to be. It just seemed to be her way of dealing with things. Nick and he had an agreement that entailed trying to keep tabs on her and to help her get out once in a while. There was only so much they could do, but they'd succeeded for a short time. It hadn't lasted long and before they realized she'd spiraled down into the shadows of despair. After her vacation though, she'd rebounded, and seemed almost euphoric.

Even though she was dressed to the nines, he could see the return of the withdrawn Sara, the dark eyes, the slumped shoulders. It was time to draw her back into the living. "We've been looking for you and would really like for you to join us, Sara. Being on different teams doesn't mean we can't continue to be friends."

His thoughtful words brought a smile to her eyes, not a dazzling one, but one of reassurance. "Please don't think I don't want to spend time with you guys. I just... it was quiet." She sighed, forcing herself to stand and reach out for Warrick's hand.

He grasped it and stood as she said, "Come on. We'll go back there and make sure that Greg isn't scaring off his date with his imitation of Marilyn Manson."

Within minutes of retaking her seat with the group, Brass swooped in and showed her the way to the dance floor. The jazzy number had Brass swinging her to and fro over the floor and she came back to the table out of breath. Brass went to retrieve a waitress to get a couple of drinks while Sara took a different seat, settling between Greg, his date Charisse and Nick along with his date, Samantha. She found herself pulled into the conversation rapidly and laughed quietly, hand over her mouth as Greg tried to coax a kiss from Charisse. Warrick, who sat across from them, watched in amusement as Charisse blushed when Greg succeeded, as if she'd minded his attempts.

Sara skirted a glance toward the far end of the table to catch a glimpse of a solemn Grissom staring off into space, not involved with anything happening at the table.

She knew he was still reeling from her rejection. It hurt, that Sara knew all too well; if she could've done anything differently she would have. But he never made a move until he knew she was in the midst of being swept off her feet by another man. She deserved better. And now, even though she'd been delusional in her whirlwind romance with Aeric, she couldn't go back to the unsatisfying games with Grissom. She didn't want to.

Things had changed for her, and not just in the romantic sense. Her life had changed. She'd seen and done things that she never would've before her indiscretion with the DUI. Returning to a life, pining after Grissom, wasn't a choice for her any longer. Grissom wasn't a choice.

While she was ruminating, she noticed Warrick's sudden lack of interest in Greg's clowning around. Suddenly, Catherine was standing behind her. She could tell that Warrick's gaze flicked from Catherine to something behind her and she tried to ascertain what it was but was blocked from viewing anything. Then, Catherine bent down to speak into her ear, insuring she'd be heard. "I found someone," she drawled excitedly.

Sara didn't understand what that meant for her, but Catherine seemed pretty pleased by her revelation. Tilting her head back, she saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. Her brow furrowed into a frown, clearly not understanding what Catherine was up to.

Catherine suddenly stepped to the side and Sara found herself trailing her eyes up the dark, well-cut suit to the broad shoulders of a man and soon found herself staring into the dark brown eyes that seemed brighter than she'd ever seen them before.

Her breath hitched.

Catherine heard it and pinched Sara's shoulder, showing her support. She had to backpedal quickly as Sara fought to stand, knocking the table, nearly causing her drink and those of the others to topple. Catherine helped her keep her balance and stepped out of her way when Sara found her equilibrium and finally came face to face with Aeric.

The rest of her team, as well as Grissom, watched with varying degrees of curiosity and confusion. Sara's animated excitement was completely uncharacteristic of the person they'd come to know.

She now stood little more than a foot away from him, looking over his hair, to his face, and then down the length of his body, returning back to his concerned face.

Sara had yet to say anything, or to even smile. Leaving Aeric wondering how she felt about him being there. He shifted his feet, feeling a tad uncomfortable with so many eyes on him, the unknown entity. Sara had described her co-workers so well to him, that he had no problem putting names with the faces, except for the man at the far end. And when he met the eyes of the gentleman, they turned from inquisitive to something much darker… something fiercer.

Grissom.

"I'm sorry."

The regretful words filled his ears and he turned to see that it was indeed Sara that had spoken them. Now he was confused. What was she to be sorry about? He was the one who'd messed up and not shown up for their rendezvous, not her. Reaching forward to grasp her hand, he tugged her closer, whispering, "No, I'm sorry. I really messed up."

Wetness formed beneath her chocolate brown eyes, and he reached up to caress the tear that was about to fall.

Sara, stuttering, tried to explain, "I, I wasn't… I mean,"

"Shh…" He comforted. Looking at the interested and concerned faces staring at him, he whispered, "Walk with me." He tentatively stepped away, still clutching her hand.

She followed him wordlessly down the long line of tables, the hair on the back of her neck tingling from knowledge that every step they took away from the group was being watched carefully. He led her outside of the partitioned area designated for the dancing and past the table she had previously been sitting at, alone.

They reached a large water fountain, secluded from the rest of the gatherers and now stood facing each other. Underwater lights shining up through the falling streams illuminated the water and it set a beautifully romantic setting just behind them, but neither of them had yet to take notice of it.

Aeric, reeling from her words, took the silent moment between them to drink in the sight of her. Her hair framed her face in wavy curls, the natural way that he liked and her dress was a form fitting filmy skirt with a halter bodice, the color of bronze setting off her tanned skinned to perfection. But, he saw the unshed tears in her bright eyes and the sight recalled him to the words she'd spoken just moments before and it was then that he saw the timidity hiding behind the liquid pools and was dumbstruck at how sorrowful she looked. The tears cut him deeply to the bone. He knew that his absence from their planned weekend had hurt her, he couldn't imagine how he would've felt if it had been the other way around.

"Sara," he began, pulling her just close enough so that he could read her expressions clearly. "I don't know what you think you need to feel sorry for, but before I ask, I have to apologize for not showing up last weekend. I don't want to make excuses, but I hope you'll let me explain."

Sara's glittering eyes looked up to his with confusion riddled within. Her voice had taken wing earlier as he'd led her to this spot, but now she asked on a gasp, "You weren't there?"

Aeric blinked. With a tilt of his head he considered her question. Not sure if he understood, he in turn asked, "Weren't you?"

Shaking her head no and sniffling once, she whispered, "No." She turned away and sat on the bench in front of the water fountain. Glancing his way, she continued, "I… Grissom wouldn't let me have the first night off. I didn't know how to get a hold of you to let you know. When I showed up the next day, you weren't there."

Easing into the space beside her on the bench, he grasped her hand and attempted to reassure her that it wasn't her fault. "I wasn't there either, Sara. I got myself into a mess that I couldn't get out of and wasn't able to get back here in time."

Their eyes met and held through the silence that settled between them. "I never checked to see if you'd even arrived the night before. I just assumed that you…"

"Stood you up?" he asked.

She nodded.

He pulled her into his embrace, his warm hand smoothing the bare skin showing from her backless dress. "Never."

"I don't trust you, Aeric," she stated simply, instantly feeling him stiffen against her. She hadn't meant to hurt him, just saying what she knew she felt. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say it like that."

Gently easing her away from him so that he could see her face, he responded kindly, "I know you don't trust easily, Sara. If I'd had any way to contact you to let you know, I would have... I promise. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you and what it would do to you, my not showing up." His voice deepened as he spoke, distress punctuating each of his words.

"What happened? You know why I didn't, but why couldn't you make it?"

Pulling her with him, Aeric settled back against the back of the bench. "I was finally able to capture those pictures I wanted of the tigers there in the Sundarbans, but shortly after, I was asked by a friend to take a job that he wasn't going to be able to fulfill. As you know, I only work with nature, the animals, wildlife of all sorts, but he talked me into doing this. I told him no at first –"

"Aeric, what was the job?" Sara asked wanting him to cut to the chase.

Sighing, he spurted out, "Sudan and the refugees. He works for Time, and they asked him to go in and get the photos. I didn't want to, I'd seen enough of the carnage as a doctor to last me a lifetime. He talked me into it though, and I went."

Sara pulled away abruptly, fear riddling her face. "Were you in danger?"

He nodded. "Our convoy was overtaken on our way to the camp. I'm not afraid to say that I was scared as hell. A couple of us were able to head to the hills and hide, but the soldiers that were escorting us were held up in gunfire for quite some time. I don't even know how many made it."

"Were you hurt?"

"No."

"Aeric, if this is some kind of exaggerated, full of shit story –"

As she was in the middle of her tirade, he reached into his jackets inside pocket and pulled out several photos, handing them to her.

Sara gathered them in her trembling hand, now regretting her words. She saw several men and two women huddled together under some brush and rocks – fear clearly evident in their expressions. Flipping through the photos, she came to the ones of the Sudanese refugees and bit her bottom lip in grief for these poor people who'd had to uproot their lives hurriedly, leaving everything they knew behind.

"I'm sorry," she stated, shaking her head in remorse. "I did just what Grissom has always told me not to do. I jumped to conclusions."

"Well, it's not like I've given you any reason not to."

"Oh! No, no Aeric. It's me, not you. I've spent so much time on impossible dreams. And now, when I have something attainable in my grasp, it's like my fingers went numb and I'm fumbling for what is within my reach, not sure of what I'm doing."

He grasped her hands tightly within his, holding them firmly as if to emphasize his words as he said, "You don't need to fumble, Sara. I've got you… and I'm not letting go."

His words, smooth and endearing, hit the spot and she smiled brightly at him, her spirits lifted to new heights. He pulled her tightly against him and they sat quietly together, while they listened to the faint strains of the distant music.

"Sara?" he asked.

"Mm..."

"Would you care to dance?"

"I'd love to."