Disclaimer: These characters are the property of CBS, inc.

A/N: This story is taking me for a ride. Whatever I plan to do always seems to be interrupted, but surprisingly Ifind that I think these alternatives are things I think our characters would prefer to do. It's a long chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Just when I was thinking that only a few people were reading, I learned that there were more people signed on than I thought. Thanks for this. Your comments, critical or complimentary, are appreciated. Thanks.

Sheila

Chapter 4

Hope Springs

Grissom placed the pills on the counter in front of him. It was all he could do not to take them. He put a glass of water down beside them. Relief would have to wait. Instead he picked up his phone and punched in a number he knew very well. After one ring, a voice came on and said that this number had been disconnected and no other forwarding information was available. He tried it again, and again; getting the same result every time.

His fingers trembled in his frustration. He clenched the phone tightly in an effort not to throw it at the wall. He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. The sick pounding gripped him, and left him trapped within himself. Sleep would not happen without the pills. Nor would it happen without some contact with her; some assurance that she was taking care of herself.

He picked up the phone again, and called directory assistance. Her cell would not be there, but the San Fransisco crime lab would be. The receptionist at the lab said she wasn't there. Grissom asked for a home number. She indicated that policy forbade giving out home numbers. He insisted. She reiterated lab policy. He sighed and asked if Marc Capistrant was around. A long wait ensued, but finally he got a voice.

"Hello?"

"Is this Marc Capistrant?"

"Yes."

"Gil Grissom, Las Vegas crime lab."

There was a short pause. "Dr. Grissom."

"You took my seminar a few times."

"It is required for all of my CSI's. You do a wonderful job of translating the passion of the science."

"Thanks. Listen I am looking for one of your employees, Sara Sidle."

"She is not here right now, Dr. Grissom."

Grissom detected a reticence in Marc's voice. "It's important that I talk to her."

"Have you tried her cell?"

"It's disconnected."

"I wish I could help you."

The stiffness in his voice led Grissom to believe that he wished anything but. "Look, I am not trying to get her back if that's what you are worried about. I just want to know that she is okay. We haven't heard from her, and…I hear that she had something of a rocky start there. I…just want to talk to her."

A long silence. "Dr. Grissom, I appreciate your concern, but I am not able to give you her number. Just know that she is doing…fine. She is in a place where she can rebuild her confidence and focus on living a healthy life with healthy relationships."

Grissom remembered that Capistrant was a long time friend of Sara's. "Could you at least tell her that I called?"

A heavy sigh translated over the phone. "Her time with you really took a toll. If you want to help her, I wouldn't suggest insinuating yourself into her life every time you feel like it. It's confusing especially when there is nothing behind it except your own immediate needs."

Grissom was struck by the sharp words of this relative stranger. "Marc, I care about her. I doubt even she would say otherwise."

"I don't give out employee numbers." The voice was flat.

Grissom sighed. "Please tell her that I called and that I just want to hear that she is all right."

"Even if it holds her back, keeps her focused on you?"

Grissom closed his eyes. "Please."

"I'll see what I can do. Good-bye, Dr. Grissom." Grissom heard a click. He felt a well of exhaustion rise up in him. There was so much anger in him, all of it directed inward. He never meant to be this person who hurt others. Everything in his life had been about using his immense talents to serve others. Working as a CSI was not the most lucrative path available to him, but it provided the most fascination and satisfaction. His mother had always been taught to be kind and respectful, and yet, somehow all his efforts had brought him to this moment when his actions were bringing tremendous pain to others. It was again, yet another justification for hiding within himself, away from the fragile structures of an emotional world.

With great effort, he was able to pull himself to his feet. He reached for the medication and hesitated. Adding another Trazadone promised even more rest. He considered it for a moment, and then decided that overmedicating himself was not a direction he wanted to go.

Air conditioner on, shades drawn, dressed only in his boxers, he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. He let himself drift away in a medicated fog, hoping to stay there as long as his body would allow.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Sara stood at the gate while the attendant urged her to board. Sara raised her hand indicating two minutes and the flight attendant folded her arms impatiently. Sara leaned over her cell phone and tapped her foot impatiently. "Pick up, Marc. Pick up."

"Sara?"

"Hey! I didn't think you were going to pick up."

"Where are you?"

"Yeah. About that. You remember saying that I should take a few days and I said that I didn't want to?"

"Uh huh."

"I want a couple of days. I need them." She bit her lip and waited.

"Now?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Marc. I need a little space."

"Do what you have to do, Sara."

"Marc, I have been nothing but trouble since you hired me…"

"Sara, don't worry. Call me tomorrow."

Sara clicked off and ran up the runway past the anxious attendant.

Relief flooded through when she entered the cabin. Open seats dotted the coach section. She found a couple of empty seats next to a window and settled in. She leaned her face against the glass and felt the vibration of the burning jets. Absently she watched the ground rush past and then disappear below her.

She needed advice. The mistakes and worries of the last three months were weighing her down. She needed a good, patient ear; someone who wouldn't judge her. She had many friends in Vegas who would drop anything to do what she needed, and she was grateful for this, but she needed someone dispassionate, someone who would not be wrapped up in their own hopes for her.

She woke up this morning and knew who would fit the bill. He would be patient and thoughtful. He wouldn't let his personal feelings get in the way of advising her. She had immediately booted her laptop and bought a ticket to Vegas. It was a short flight. She planned to go and come back in the space of a night and a day.

She didn't call him before she left. This whole idea wasn't well planned out, and she wasn't even sure what to say to him.

In the Vegas airport, she took a cab and stopped at a pharmacy. She came out with a white, paper bag clutched tightly to her side. The cab dropped her at the Palms and she walked in without a reservation. She knew the desk manager, and so she walked away with a room key within minutes.

Up in the room, she kept the shades drawn. She dropped her bags onto one of the double beds and lay down in the other. She pulled out her cell and curled up as she made her call. "Hey, it's Sara….Shhhh!...Don't tell anyone I'm here…I need to talk to you. Life is a little complicated, right now. I need someone to help me think…No! I'm here. Vegas. Palms, room 1325…Really…no, no, no, finish your shift…I'm going to just rest until you come…No, I can wait…Thanks. Thanks for being my friend."

She placed the phone on the pillow beside her and closed her eyes.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Grissom lifted his head and squinted his eyes at the clock. He had slept 7 hours. He lay his head back down and waited. At first he felt nothing. Then a dull thumping came faintly and then grew. It was still with him. He rubbed his face roughly with his hands, and pulled himself up. He padded softly into the bathroom, and turned the shower on hot. The soothing warm jets provided some relief, and he stayed under the water for almost forty minutes. Visions of Sara flashed through his thoughts. He couldn't lose the image of her refusing to give evidence to the armed suspect. He imagined her standing there with that defiant look she wore. Beyond that, it bewildered him. Sara was fierce, but never stupid. She was protecting nothing with that move. He had shown his hand, they could build it from there. Her actions frightened him.

By the time, he left the shower, he was decided. Grissom picked up the phone and called the airlines. Within two hours, he was on a business flight to Frisco. The ibuprofen he was taking wasn't even making a dent in the pain. He didn't eat as a tinge of nausea plagued him. At the airport, he took a cab straight to the lab. Again, he was frustrated to find her gone. He convinced the receptionist to bring him to Marc Capistrant's office.

Marc looked up as Grissom stopped at his office door. "Hello Marc."

Marc put his pen down. "Dr. Grissom."

"She's not here."

Marc stood up and gestured to a chair. Grissom tried not to show the relief flooding through his body as he sunk into the chair. The pounding in his head had become a deep hammering on his skull.

"She took a few days off, Dr. Grissom."

Grissom pushed his lips in and out. "Call me, Gil."

"Are you okay?"

"Headache. It's fine. You're not going to tell me where she is, are you."

"I don't know. She needed a few days. And she's not at home. I checked."

Grissom sighed and took a moment to look around the office. "I'm not trying to hurt her. I heard about what happened. I was worried. I don't understand why she wouldn't have responded to that suspect."

Marc shrugged. "She was tired, depressed. When she first came back, I couldn't believe how she looked. Drawn. Pale. Thinner than I remember. But mostly, she seemed lifeless."

"I put her through a lot."

Marc nodded. "You did. But I know Sara. She was thinking about you from the first day the two of you met. Brilliant and handsome, the fact that you were emotionally unavailable merely provided an interesting puzzle for her to solve. She didn't know how to give up. Although I imagine you taught her."

Grissom rubbed his temples emphatically.

"Grissom, I don't know what I can do for you."

"I don't know either." He responded softly.

"Can I get you a cab back to the airport?"

"Please tell her that she deserves better than anything I could have ever given her."

Marc nodded again. A face appeared in the doorway, and a man sauntered in.

"Hi."

Marc made a face. "Hello, Matthew. How nice of you to just come in on."

Grissom looked up.

"Dr…I mean, Gil, this is my partner, Marc."

Grissom reached over to shake his hand.

Matthew stared at Marc. "Not Dr. Mung…I mean, Dr. Grissom."

Grissom chuckled quietly.

"You're here for Sara?"

Grissom nodded.

Matthew turned to Marc. "I think that's very sweet."

"Gil, my boyfriend is something of a hopeless romantic. It's really an interesting trait to find in a city prosecutor."

Matthew faced Grissom and wagged a finger. "You can pine for her, but you can't have her; at least not now. You have a lot of work to do first."

"Please. I assure you that I am not trying to take her anywhere. I just want to make sure she's okay."

"Are you always this stiff?"

"I think he has a headache, Matthew."

"A migraine." Grissom mumbled.

"Medication?" Matthew's brow furled.

Grissom shook his head.

"So you're just going to sit there in pain?"

Grissom looked confused.

Matthew reached over Marc's desk and grabbed the phone. He punched in numbers furiously. "Dr. Chu please…We need an emergency appointment…Migraine. Huge one!...Can Dr. Chu move things around just this once…Oh, Mai, you are a doll. We'll be there in twenty minutes." Matthew clicked the phone and turned to Grissom. "Let's go."

Grissom looked at Marc. Marc sighed. "It's his acupuncturist. He uses Dr. Chu for everything. Ailments. Mental health. Everything!"

"And does it help? I am asking you, Marc, does it help?" Matthew stood there, hands on his hips, glaring at Marc.

Marc looked at Grissom. "He wants to take you to a very good acupuncturist."

Grissom was surprised at how easily he allowed Matthew to lead him out of the crime lab and into a waiting cab. Matthew pulled him in beside him and began to chatter in his ear on a number of different topics. Grissom could make out little of what he was saying, but found his presence to be surprisingly soothing.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Sara woke up to the sounds of knocking on her hotel door. She pulled her tired body up and stumbled toward the door. She launched herself at the peephole and smiled at who she saw. She pulled the door open and let Warrick Brown sweep her into a tight hug. He finally let go of her and walked past her into the room. "Hiding out from the feds, Sara?"

She grinned and followed him into the room. "Thanks for coming."

He turned to face her. "I was worried. We all are. You basically disappeared."

She shrugged. "I was in San Francisco."

"And you changed your cell number?"

She winced. "I'm sorry. I was trying to avoid a certain someone."

"Yeah. Wonder who that was." Warrick wandered over to a chair and sat down.

"Warrick I need help." Sara sat on the bed across from him.

"I am here, Girl."

She worried her lips some, watching him carefully. "I had a situation. A gun got pulled on me and I didn't react well."

Warrick leaned in, staring at her intently.

"He told me to give him something, and I wouldn't."

"Did you have a good reason?"

She shook her head. "Guess I thought I was invincible."

Warrick let out a deep breath. "I think this might be beyond my expertise."

She ignored him. "So I have basically been suspended from any fieldwork. I have plenty of time to reflect on my actions or lack thereof." She took in a breath. "And I have had time to notice another difficulty."

"I'm all ears."

"I'm having symptoms of something. I'm tired and nauseous. Very emotional. My breasts have swelled."

Warrick chuckled. "Who'd you sleep with?"

"Couldn't it be something else?"

He shook his head. "I'm not a doctor, and for your sake, I hope it isn't something else."

"I haven't talked to him."

"Are you going to?"

"Not sure I have anything to say."

Warrick leaned back and looked at her. "Quit playing around with this. Do you want to know if you have anything to worry about or not?"

Sara reached for her bag from the pharmacy. She pulled out the pregnancy test and tossed it to Warrick.

"Hey! I'm not taking this." He stopped teasing when he caught the fear in her eyes.

Sara looked away. "I don't know what to do."

He gently tossed it back to her. "We won't know until you take it."

Sara turned it over and over in her hands. They sat in silence for some time. Then she got up abruptly, and disappeared into the bathroom. Warrick rubbed his hands up and down his face and waited.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Grissom emerged from Dr. Chu's examining room with a new look of calm on his face. Matthew smiled. "Did it help?"

"Tremendously." Grissom managed a thin smile. His body felt loose and relaxed.

"Dr. Chu is the best."

"I would love a chance to study the physiology of his technique. Fascinating! Who do I pay?"

Matthew shrugged. "It's on the house."

Grissom looked at him with an odd expression. Finally he said. "I gotta get back to Vegas."

"I have a cab waiting. Call the airport. There is a shuttle leaving in two hours. Enough time for us to stop off for a bowl of Mrs. Wong's egg drop soup and shrimp spring rolls. You look like you could use a good, hot meal."

Grissom stopped and looked at him. "Why are you being so kind? After everything I have put Sara through, I figured you would be pissed off."

"Sara's got good instincts. If she picked you, then there has to be a reason. Besides, every story has two sides. And I am a sucker for true love."

Grisson raised his eyebrows. "And you prosecute for the city?"

"Yeah. And I'm a Libra. Creative. Sensitive. Never sure about anything. Making decisions is like a brain surgery to me. I seek balance in life, and I strive to see both sides of every issue. It's a struggle in my job, but at least I'm not a hard ass vigilante like some of my co-workers."

"I appreciate your balance."

Matthew patted him on the back. "Hey! You're not the only commitment-phobe. Wait 'til I tell you what Marc was like when I first met him. It was a year before he would even let me keep a toothbrush in the bathroom. I'll tell you all about it over stir-fried garlic string beans. Mrs. Wong makes the best in the city."

Grissom followed the nattily dressed lawyer out the door to the waiting cab.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Sara came out of the bathroom carrying the white, paper bag. Warrick grabbed his hair. "Sara, you were in there for thirty minutes. Are you telling me that you didn't even open that bag?"

She dropped the bag in his lap. "Opened and tested."

"And?" He watched her as she sat down.

"No clue. I can't look." She was chewing on her bottom lip.

"And you want me to?" Warrick held the bag up.

"What am I going to do, Warrick?"

Warrick slowly unfolded the bag. He pulled out the stick and looked at it. Then he looked up at Sara. "Are you ready?"

"No." She got up and started pacing.

"I have an answer, Sara." He looked at her expectantly.

She turned away from him and waved frantically with her hand. "Don't say anything."

Warrick face slowly broke into a smile. "What are you hoping for? Do you want it to be negative? I am starting to get a little confused about what you really want."

She swung around. "It's negative?"

He cocked his head. "Is that what you want?"

"Just tell me."

"Okay. Sara, you are not pregnant."

Sara stared at him silently. She tried to form words, but nothing came out. "Oh." She said finally, and she sank down on the bed.

"Kind of disappointed, aren't you?"

She blinked her eyes and considered this. "Warrick, I would be the worst mother in the world. With my history…God, I don't know."

"I think you would be a great mom, Sara." Warrick smiled.

"You really think so?"

He nodded firmly. "I am very certain of this."

She let out a deep breath. "Okay, I'll admit it. I am a little disappointed."

"Really? Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well that's good to know, Sara, 'cause I lied."

She sat up ramrod straight. "What!"

He nodded slowly. "Sara Sidle, you are pregnant."

Her mouth dropped. She got up and walked over, taking the stick from him. She looked at it, and then took it over and looked at it under the light. She held it close and then stretched out her arm and squinted at it. Finally she turned to Warrick, tears streaming down her face. "I'm going to have a baby."

Warrick let her cry for awhile. Then he got up and gently folded her into his arms. "Be happy, Sara. Having a baby is a miracle."

"I still don't know what to do." She mumbled into his chest.

"I'm not the one you should be talking to about this."

She pulled away from him. "I don't know, Warrick."

He creased his brows at her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"He doesn't know. Not sure he would even care."

He shook his head. "Don't make those excuses. He needs to know."

She pushed away defiantly. "It's my decision."

Warrick walked away from her. "Don't do this, Sara. Don't act like he shouldn't have a voice."

His passion startled her. "Warrick, I don't understand."

"I know what this is like."

"Warrick, I—"

He put a hand up. "Ten years ago. I had been with her for four months. She disappeared for a week. When she came back, she told me she had taken care of it. I think she fully believed that I would be relieved." He went over to look out the window.

"Did you know she was pregnant?"

Looking out the window, he shook his head.

"It was her choice." She said quietly.

He turned sharply at her. "She never gave me a chance. Of course, it was her choice, but I should have had an opportunity to say my piece. She should have had that information. Maybe she would have made a…different choice."

"I didn't think of that."

He licked his lips. "Sara, you need to talk to Grissom."

She stopped dead. "I never said…"

"He would want to know. He deserves to know. Let him have a chance to know this. Please."

"It won't change anything."

"It doesn't matter. He has a right."

She dropped back onto the bed, arms folded and leaned back, closing her eyes tightly. He sat on the bed beside her. He reached over and took her hand. "You'll do the right thing, Sweetie, I know you will."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Grissom got off the flight. He slept through the flight, his stomach full of the most exquisite Chinese food he had ever tasted. He felt somewhat reassured despite the fact that he hadn't seen Sara. The idea that Marc and Matthew were watching out for her helped him to begin letting go. He sat down on a bench and pulled his bag into lap. He took a moment to locate his keys and his wallet. An old habit, the idea of an absentminded professor was a reality for him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Sara walked into the Vegas airport, her ears still ringing with Warrick's words. She could have stayed a day or two more. Maybe she would have had the courage to face him, but going back to San Francisco seemed the safest route for her right now. She would take time to think about what Warrick said. There would be time to think; a little time, at least.

She walked through the airport, oblivious to the chaos around her. A screaming child caught her attention and she stopped dead. She watched the mother try frantically to calm a toddler over a missing toy. The woman tried everything, but the child did nothing but wail. She stood there, tiny, in a jumper decorated in stains, and wailed as if nothing mattered but her own needs. The mother looked around, aware of the stern stares she got from people who walked past. Sara stood there, staring unabashed as the woman tried to reason with the tiny girl. Finally she pulled a bag of cheerios from her pocket and waved them in front of the child. The wail stopped mid scream as she grabbed for the booty before her. Soon she had cheerios in her chubby hands, and she was munching happily. Sara smiled at the simplicity of her world.

She turned to look for her gate, and was startled to see a man with silver hair sitting on a bench, methodically going through his bag. She was startled at his resemblance to Grissom. She moved a couple of steps closer, and her breath caught in her throat. The glasses, the face, his beard, there was no mistaking the identity of this man. She turned around abruptly and ran into a businessman coming in the other direction. She collided with him, and fell backwards onto the ground. Startled, he stepped back, and looked at her. He leaned over, and pulled her to her feet. Her face was growing red at the attention this might be attracting. She looked over to his bench, and saw him oblivious to her situation. He was busy studying something on his cell phone. With a sigh of relief, she started to push her way through the crowd to her gate, to the safety of a sealed jet. She moved past people until she was at the gate. It was early to board and so she paced back and forth in front of the gate. She would talk to him, it was a given. She just needed time to think it through. In a week or maybe just a few days, she would call him. They could talk. There would be the safety of distance. He wouldn't know her address. She could control the interaction.

Secure in this thinking, she sat down in a chair. For a few minutes, she sat there, arms folded tightly across her chest, and waited for the call to board. Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor, and her eyes darted back and forth. She breathed in and out, and tried to distract herself with the T.V. running CNN on the wall.

She watched intently for a few moments. Then she abruptly whimpered, and jumped to her feet. In an instant, she ran down the hallway as fast as she could. She pushed past people, stumbling at times, and then breathed heavily as security scanned her for contraband. They looked at her suspiciously as beads of sweat formed on her forehead, but they let her go and she ran toward the main terminal. She stopped short at his bench, now empty. Her chest heaved in and out. She looked around, but saw nothing but a sea of harried people. Unexpectedly, a sob escaped and she stood, doing her best to calm her emotions. She swallowed hard and turned back toward her gate and ran smack into another person. She fell backwards, and an arm reached out to steady her. She looked up into the blue eyes of the gray haired monster in her dreams.

"Sara!" he exclaimed. "Did you just get here?"

"No. Sorry, I was just leaving."

His brow furled. "You were here. How long? Where? I've wanted to talk to you."

She shook her head. "Just one day. In and out; I'm on my way back."

Grissom nodded. "Sorry I missed you."

She cocked her head. "Why are you here?"

He looked away for a moment and thought. "I just came from San Francisco. I was looking for you."

She felt like someone had just sucked the air out of the room. "I didn't know that."

"Just wanted to see how you were."

Her eyes grew hot. "I'm sorry I missed you."

"So," Grissom shifted from foot to foot. "How are you doing?"

She spread a forced smile across her face. "Good, Grissom. Very good."

He nodded.

"Hey! I can't believe this. I'm going to miss my flight. Sorry. Wish I could stay and talk." She started to edge away from him.

He stood silently watching her back away from him. She waved and turned to trot away. She got only a few feet and then stopped. For a moment, she just stood there, her back to him. She wheeled around, and he stepped forward. Her eyes blinked, and she chewed her lips nervously. She took a few steps in his direction. "Grissom, I came here for a reason. Not to see you, but it relates to you."

Grissom stood there, a look of confusion on his face. Around him, people hustled by, the din of a busy airport echoing around them.

She took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant. It seems that our drunken debauchery was a little more fruitful than we imagined."

He reached up and pulled his glasses from his face.

"I don't know what to do. I have an appointment this week, Friday. I can take care of things then. I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you like this."

"You're pregnant with a child, my child?"

She nodded and waited, but he just stared at her intently. "I don't know what to say."

She let out a breath. It was as she expected. Above her, the intercom called her flight. "Listen, I'm going to miss my flight. Take some time with this. Call me if you want. We can talk more. My appointment is on Friday."

He reached forward to grab her arm, but she stepped back, gave him a weak smile, and ran back toward the gate. He stood there, staring at her retreating form until he realized he didn't have a way to reach her. He ran hard after her, but was stopped at security. None of his stories worked. He didn't have a ticket so he was not allowed to pass through. He scanned past the guards but saw nothing but the bland faces of countless travelers.

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TBC