A/N: Every once in a while, I capture bits of this story. I have a sense of the resolution, but no sense of the timing. BTW, have I told you lately that you guys rock. Your comments inspire me and keep me involved.

I want to extend my thoughts and prayers to those readers who are British. Such terrible events of the last week, and yet we can all learn a lesson from the tenacity of the average Londoner. The bombing blitz in WWII couldn't do it nor could the IRA. I have no doubt that terrorists will intimidate citizens of the UK.

Marlou does a fabulous job making my chapters readable. As always, I appreciate her.

Thanks for everything,

Sheila

Hope Springs

Chapter 16

The three of them sat side by side at the bar drinking beer. College basketball was on the TV, and so they forewent conversation in favor of the occasional shouting at a particular play. Nick finished his beer first, glanced at his companions, and then flashed the bartender three fingers. Three more bottles of beer appeared in front of them, and Nicky tossed a bill on the bar.

Another man entered quietly and slipped onto the stool next to Warrick. Nick put up one finger and another beer appeared on the bar. Warrick nodded at his seatmate and returned his attention to the screen. The man took a swig of the beer and winced. On the other side of Warrick, Greg caught his eye and smirked. "He would have preferred a glass of wine, Nicky."

Nicky raised an eyebrow. "And watch college ball? No way!"

David Hodges swallowed hard and reached for the beer again. "Hey, beer is exactly what I was hoping for."

Warrick chuckled and they all turned their attention from the game to watch Hodges take another drink. Unable to resist, Warrick gave him a friendly slap on the back and Hodges choked, spraying beer across the bar. Greg laughed the loudest, and then signaled the bartender to bring Hodges a glass of Merlot.

Nicky leaned over. "Does she know where we are?"

Hodges shook his head. "She's too busying putting the final touches on the decorations. I suggested putting the napkins in a nice fan design, but was roundly shot down in favor of some rather pedestrian looking piles. Same thing happened with streamer spiral I was doing for the tables. I figured if my opinion carried so little weight, I might as well just leave and hang out with you guys."

Warrick raised his eyebrows. "Really don't know how to respond to all that."

Nicky raised his beer. "You know I consider myself to be just as modern as the next guy, but I don't really get the point of co-ed baby showers."

"I know." Mia slipped onto the stool next to him. "Especially if you don't have kids. I'm willing to fork over money for the gifts, but let's leave the ooohing and the ahhhing to the babymakers." She raised a long, elegant arm and smiled at the bartender. He smiled back and set a longneck down in front of her. She pulled up her cell, and quickly texted a message. Then she took a long swig and banged it on the bar. "Okay guys, catch me up. If Villanova is still up by the 3rd quarter, then Wilson must be having a good day. Nebraska still have Smith on injured reserve?"

Nicky sighed. "You sure you don't want to be the mother of my children?"

Mia elbowed him. "You can't afford me, Pretty Boy."

Warrick shook his head. "You're a hard woman, Mia. You're gonna break my boy's heart."

Nicky winked at Warrick. "It's okay. As long as she doesn't take out a restraining order, I know I have a chance."

Mia rolled her eyes and focused on the game.

"Anybody know if Grissom is coming? I heard he was out of town." Greg said.

"He better come. He started this whole thing. Hell, if we have to be here—"

"Well, you do and I don't want to hear another thing about it." The voice was low and dangerous.

Nicky smiled nervously and raised his beer. "Hey Cat, we were just taking a little break before the festivities."

Catherine stood there, hands planted firmly on her hips. "All I'm asking is two hours where we show a little support to a friend. Sara's been through a lot, you know."

"We were just staying out of your way while you get the room decorated." Warrick weakly argued.

"I don't care what you were doing. You're going to get up, leave the beers and march back into that banquet room and sit down. You're going to compliment the desserts at the appropriate time, tell her she is glowing, and when she opens her gifts I want you watching like it is the Super Bowl. If she wants to talk about stretch marks or swollen ankles, the only thing I want to see on your faces is sympathy. I see any funny looks, and I'm writing down names. Do you understand?" Four heads nodded. "Oh, and Mia thanks for the text message, I was looking for these guys all over the place."

Reluctantly, Warrick, Greg, and Nicky slid off their stools. Hodges stayed where he was, pointedly ignoring Catherine. She sighed. "All right, Hodges, the napkins are yours. Do whatever the hell kind of origami thing you want with them?" Finally, he climbed off the stool and walked past Catherine with a smug smile.

"Hey guys," Mia said as they walked past. "I had to do it. It's Catherine, you know. No hard feelings, right?"

Nick gave her a look. "It could have been so good, Baby. It could have been so good." Then he winked at her and followed his friends. She cocked her head and watched him leave with a strangely unidentifiable feeling in her gut.

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Sara let Brass help her into a couch. She let him scoot over and steal a pillow from the other end of the couch to better anchor her back. Any independence she brought to this pregnancy she abandoned at week 36. She was officially miserable. She was heavy, stiff, tired, swollen, and achy. She burnt toast this morning and cried ten minutes about it. Yesterday, while she sat in the doctor's office and a blonde, pregnant woman with three small children was gushing at her about how wonderful pregnancy was, and, if she could, she would arrange to be pregnant all the time. If the woman had attempted that conversation without her children in the room, Sara was pretty sure she would have slapped her.

Brass went off in search of water for her, and she leaned back into the fortified chair. The room was empty, but there were mountains of gifts on a table and decorations littered the room. She secretly hoped that they were all called out on a case, and that she would arrange to have someone load up the gifts in the Denali. Then she would go back to Grissom's, lie down on the couch, and watch Raising Arizona for the fifth time this week. Before her daydream could gain any more steam, Catherine burst into the room with her friends and colleagues following. Despite her dour mood, she burst into smiles as her friends descended upon her.

She welcomed the hugs and kisses and inevitable massaging of her massive belly. She drank in the compliments about how beautiful she looked even though she knew she looked bloated and tired. Brass came back in and elbowed his way through to give her a glass of water. He waved the guys away from her and began fussing at them about overwhelming pregnant women. She almost jumped in to assure him she was fine, but she found it sweet that Brass was watching out for her so carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Hodges worked frantically with a bunch of napkins at the buffet table. Catherine was hovering over him, arms folded, and shaking her head. Doc Robins, David, Bobby, Sophia, Archie, Judy, Vartann, O'Brien, and Jacqui wandered in with gifts and smiles for her. Her eyes popped a little when Ecklie showed up, but he was carrying a nice gift, and he sat down quietly with a glass of punch across from Sophia.

Catherine started a pool on the size, weight, and sex of the baby as well as the date of delivery. With an enthusiasm particular to citizens of Las Vegas, there was a vigorous round of wagering, and money being thrown into the pot. Sara figured that someone was going to end up with a tidy sum of cash out of this whole thing. Cat went onto other games, each of them with a Vegas edge such that the guys seemed genuinely disappointed when she was finished. Servers brought in a cart of desserts that looked amazing, and everyone was properly awed. Sara picked at hers as she was fighting some emotion in her gut. This was her very first party. No one knew and no know needed to know, but no one had ever before thrown her a party. She struggled not to think about parents who were too distracted by their own problems to remember when her birthday was coming, and foster parents who never even bothered to ask. By the end of high school, she had stopped celebrating all major milestones in her life. It was easier this way as the disappointment had taken a toll.

Every few minutes, her eyes fell on the banquet room door. He had said he would try to get there before the shower was over. She knew the flight was going to be late, but she was left feeling unsettled and anxious as his absence continued. He had stayed in South Dakota five days. He had been vague about reasons and her patience disabled hormones couldn't handle any more of his clouded answers, and so she kept his frequent calls short and curt so as not to drag him through too much of her emotional territory.

Catherine started thrusting presents at her. By the fifth one, she was unwrapping with tears running down her cheeks. She prayed that no one would notice as she had no interest in trying to unravel the complexity of her history or the tenuous nature of her emotional state. Catherine came up beside her with some Kleenex and began to lightly massage her back. She soldiered on through all the gifts, offering a hiccupy smile to each gift giver. Greg tried to ask her what was wrong at one point, but Brass reached over and pulled him back into his seat, telling him to shut up because pregnant women are like this, besides 'it's her party and she can cry if she wants too'. Half the party launched into Leslie Gore imitations. Doc Robins started to argue that Brass was acting like pregnancy was some sort of pathology. Brass told him to dry up. Warrick began spouting off information about the emotional life of pregnant women that he read about six months ago. Nicky challenged him on how he had the occasion to do research on pregnancy before anyone knew Sara was pregnant. Warrick informed him that Sara needed someone she could trust to give her advice early in her pregnancy. That comment set both Nicky and Greg on Warrick with all sorts of opinions about who could trust who. Hodges wandered away from the table to survey the damage that dessert eaters had made to his napkin designs. General chaos ensued, but that didn't stop Sara from methodically ripping open present after present, picking it up, displaying it for the raucous and largely inattentive room, and then reaching for another. Getting through this was her primary goal. She was reaching for a rather large one when two large hands appeared to pick it up for her. Her heart stopped momentarily as she looked into the kind eyes of Gil Grissom.

She willed herself to take this opportunity to really pull herself together emotionally, but she merely succeeded in graduating her tear streaked hiccups to a state where her body racked with sobs. Grissom put the gift down and slid onto the couch next to her, pulling her into his arms. She buried her head in his chest and let him rock her. A hush fell over the room as everyone took in for the first time, a tender Gil Grissom. Catherine got up and shooed them out of the room. She told them all to go back to the bar and then she followed.

"Were they not behaving for your party?" He whispered into her neck.

"They were fine," she sobbed.

"Are you tired? In pain?"

"No," she hiccupped. "Well, no more than usual."

"I don't understand," he whispered.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but couldn't hold it all in. "I've never had a party before, ever, and I started thinking about my childhood and you weren't here and there were so many gifts and I look horrible and you still weren't here and then I was crying in front of everyone and it was embarrassing and that made me cry more and my ankles are huge and I used to love my legs and I hate that Leslie Gore song and every time I looked for you at the door, it was empty and—"

"Sshhh!" He said pulling her face up and stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Sara. I was so busy working on Attica's situation, but I should have done a better job of remembering what you were going through. I am so sorry."

"No more leaving. Okay? I need you here."

"Understood! No more trips. I'm here to stay." He brought her head back to rest on his broad chest.

He looked up and saw Catherine standing at the door. She smiled, "Who would have imagined the two of you being so sweet together?"

The color in Grissom's face rose as he struggled to regain his composure. "I don't think Sara can finish this party."

Catherine snorted. "I don't think they can either. Brass just bought a round of shots for the bar; even Ecklie's drinking."

"I'm going to take her home now."

"Don't worry about a thing. We'll load one of the trucks and bring all of your loot over to the house tomorrow."

Sara lifted her head from Grissom's chest. "It was a lovely party. Thank you so much, Catherine."

There was something in how Sara said it that touched Catherine and she felt her eyes water. She blinked rapidly and smiled. "No problem, Sara. Go home. Get some rest. I'll come see you tomorrow."

Sara watched Catherine disappear into the bar and she turned to Grissom. "I don't think I'll ever live this down."

He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. "You're real, Sara, and that makes you perfect."

She melted again, and could hardly see through the tears as he led her out the door.

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Sara opened her eyes and focused easily in the dim light of early dawn. She hadn't slept in the same bed with him more than a few weeks altogether, and she still found it to be something of an exotic experience. Lying on his stomach, he spread himself across the bed, typical of someone with little experience sharing a mattress. Yet his arm draped over her, warm and sticky, as if guarding a possession, and she found no easy escape. Instead she had to content herself with his grip on her belly. She began to stroke his arm, marveling at the amount of hair a man carried on his body. She slid her hand up to his biceps and kneaded the thick muscles in his upper arm. He felt like the most magnificent beast. A chill ran down her spine, and she sucked in a breath. The reality of him still stunned her. He grunted at her touch and an electric blue eye popped open. She smiled warmly at him and lightly brushed her fingers over his eyes. They closed again gratefully, and she realized how tired he must be. She shifted her body away a little as she contemplated getting up, but his arm tightened across her middle. The gesture made her smile. She found that she had no real desire to disturb the perfection of this moment and so she closed her eyes, and focused on bringing her breathing back into rhythm with his.

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"You haven't talked to him!" Brass shifted in the lounge chair. Sara looked up at him from the sky blue water of the Sand hotel pool. She shrugged at him, continuing to bob Lucy up and down in the water. Lucy was in a ridiculously bright pink swimsuit buoyed by a yellow duck water ring. Her curly hair carried jewels of water droplets, and her eyebrows were drawn together in concentration as she kicked her pudgy legs and contemplated the enormity of her situation.

Mary Revoy chuckled from her spot on an adjoining chair. "It's pretty clear that she has never been in a pool before. Look at her face."

Sara returned her attention to the child. "It's okay, Sweetie." She pulled her in and gave her a big hug.

"Notice how independent she is. She's so determined to figure this out. Most kids would just start crying." Mary shook her head in amazement.

"Yeah, let's go back to the part where you haven't told Grissom that you have been visiting Lucy." Brass gave up in the bright sun, and was working to shed his suitcoat.

Sara was helping Lucy tread water in circles. "I haven't had a chance."

"Really? He's been back two days."

"He's been very busy running around on all around town on these vague, weird errands that he never really explains. So now, I have my little, secretive thing, and I plan on telling him just as soon as I know what to say." Keeping her hands firmly around Lucy's middle, Sara started moving her away from the edge.

Brass turned his attention to Mary with his hands in the air. "What are we doing here?"

"Geez, Jim. I was under the impression that you'd already thought this thing through. We're just waiting for you to make the next move."

"I used to think Social Workers were fairly decent human beings," he growled.

She chuckled at him and focused on Sara guiding Lucy around in circles. "Jim, sometimes you just have to let life unfold before you. Right now, I'm not doing anything but watching. That's what I've been doing the last 6 visits between these two, and I don't mind telling you that I am beginning to like what I see."

"Yeah, but what does that mean, Mary?"

She shook her head. "Don't know yet.

"I'm supposed to just accept that?"

"Yes, you are. There are no guarantees in life. Ask Lucy, she'll tell you all about it." Mary got up. "I think I'm going to get some lemonade for everybody." She didn't wait for an acknowledgement as she walked by the man with his head in his hands.

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She wiped down Lucy's wiry little body rigorously like she remembered her mother doing when she was a little girl. She rubbed the towel through Lucy's curls until there was nothing but a big ball of hair on her head. Lucy bore all of this with patience, her little hands gripping Sara's shoulders as she dried her. Sara pulled a yellow frock out of the bag that Mary gave her and pulled it over the little girl's head. Lucy's hair was a tangle, and Sara couldn't get her fingers through it.

"Sounds like I have a few things to learn about curly hair." She chuckled as she tried to smooth the wild locks.

"Mommy?" The little girl touched her face.

Sara sat flat on the ground, groaning as her massive middle fought for space. She looked Lucy in the eye. "I don't know, Baby. I don't know."

Lucy frowned, her bottom lip trembling, "Please."

Sara gathered her up in her arms and squeezed her tight. "You're a good girl, Lucy, and you're going to have a great family. I promise you that."

The child's arms squeezed her tightly around the neck. "Please be my Mommy."

Sara wondered how the three year old could possibly have such insight about what was happening around her. "It's going to be okay, Lucy. I'm not going anywhere."

She rocked her back and forth until the little girl grew quiet in her arms. She knew she hadn't answered Lucy's pleas, and the deception lay heavy in her mind. Mary came in, and Sara looked up. "We need to talk."

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The sun had set by the time Sara returned to his place. She hoped that there would still be enough time to get this conversation off the ground before he left for work. Convincing him that they needed to love and care for Lucy was the easy part; the hard part would be making the case for bringing in an adopted child the same time they would be dealing with a newborn. Several times in recent weeks, he had commented on how foolish it had been for him to suggest that they could take care of the two children at the same time, especially when they had no idea how to handle even one.

Her mind was racing with different ideas on how to start this conversation when he opened the door and let her in. There was an odd look on his face, and behind him there was an older woman with a long braid sitting on the couch. Sara walked past him and smiled at her. There was something familiar about her, but Sara couldn't tell what it was.

Grissom gently placed his hand on her back and gestured at the woman. "Sara Sidle, I would like to introduce you to my mother, Olivia Grissom."

Sara felt like he had knocked the breath right out of her. She strangled a greeting and reached over to shake hands with the small woman. The woman was beautiful, her face serene and open. She captured Sara's hand with both of hers, and pulled her onto the couch beside her. "I am so glad to meet you, Sara."

Olivia's voice sounded tinny and flat. Sara had no experience with sign language, and hadn't even considered how important it would be to know how to communicate with her baby's grandmother. "It's nice to meet you, Olivia." She looked up at Grissom, confusion etched on her face. "I didn't know."

His smile was almost a grimace. "My mother surprised us."

Olivia began signing furiously at her son. Grissom cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving his mother's hands. "I want to apologize for the intrusion, but my son…" Grissom made a face. "was not giving me regular updates and it had become very frustrating for me."

Grissom's hands responded and his mother threw her hands up in the air. Sara looked frantically from person to person. "What's going on? I'm not following."

Olivia caught her eye and dropped her hands. "We have to talk for Sara, Gilbert."

"Is everything okay?" Sara looked from Grissom to Olivia. "I am very glad that you are here. I just wish I was a little more prepared. I am something of a mess these days."

Olivia smiled and grabbed Sara's hands. "It's okay. I have wanted to meet you so very badly."

"I wish I had learned some sign for you." Sara said

"My mother is very good at reading lips. Just make sure you are looking straight at her when you talk."

Olivia smiled at Sara. "You are very lovely, Sara. My son is a lucky man. You'll have to tell me how you manage to put up with him; so few people can."

Grissom got his mother's attention. "Mom, let's focus on my strengths. Okay?"

Olivia dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Go away, Gilbert. Sara and I need to get to know each other."

And so Grissom did. And when he left for work, they were still sitting there having what must have been a very patient yet exhausting conversation. Something deep in him stirred and he realized, for the first time, that this would be his life now; never again would he return to an empty house.

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TBC