She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette…

Sara lay awake a long time after Greg had fallen asleep beside her. The love they'd made had been frantic, almost desperate as they'd finally acted upon the feelings each had held for the other for so long. Yet the image of Gill Grissom's intense gaze upon her when he thought she wasn't looking continued to haunt Sara's thoughts.

There had always been an attraction between Sara and her boss. In fact, Sara felt a twinge of possessive jealousy toward him whenever she saw Catherine or Sophia talking to him. Their relationship had progressed slowly until finally Gill had asked her out, and they began seeing each other. Quietly at first, until the passionate afternoon they'd spent at his house. Yet, there was also the sparks between herself and Greg that had never seemed to quite die down. Always flickering, burning in the back of their sub consciousnesses like the coals of a well-banked fire.

Tonight that fire had raged to life, fueled by an after-work round of drinks at the Bellagio hotel's lounge. How Sara and Greg wound up back at her place, in her bed, was a foggy, alcohol-soaked memory. Sara chewed her bottom lip, her guilt at cheating on Gill tearing her apart. Suddenly, Sara froze at the sound of a key in the front door's lock. Gill had his own key, and she realized he was coming over, as had become his habit, to slide into bed beside her sleeping form and wake her with his kisses in the morning. In a panic, she sat up, clutching the sheet to her breast as Gill turned on the light beside her bed.

The look of shock and hurt on Gill's face as he stared first at Sara; and then to Greg was like a knife in her heart.

"Gill," she began; her throat dry.

Grissom shook his head, averting his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at either one of them. Greg, still half-asleep, paled when he saw his boss standing in the doorway. He was trying to wake up, but the alcohol he'd consumed the night before still held on. But, there was no mistaking the expression on Sara's face as she stared at her hands: guilt.

She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget

Gill Grissom had never been an alcoholic; but after finding Sara in bed with Greg, Gill began drinking, hoping to drown her memory in an amber sea of whiskey. Sara sidle had been the only one he'd truly loved, and now she was gone. Gill had been too hurt to allow her a second change, and although he worked each day with Greg and Sara, he refused to open himself for more hurt. The whiskey became his closest, most sympathetic, friend.

We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
until the night

The number of shots of whiskey was lost on Gill as he poured himself another. It had been five years since he'd walked in on Sara and Greg; five miserable years of trying to push the memories from his mind. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her face the way it had looked when she had smiled at him over cocktails on their first date. Gill took another drink; the liquid no longer burned his numbed throat, and at last it was beginning to numb his mind. Slowly, he walked to his bedroom, where a picture of Sara still sat on the dresser. Lying down, Gill took another sip of whiskey as he studied the dark haired girl he'd loved so much…

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees

Sara was working with Nick that morning. They were back at the scene of a triple homicide Gill had told them he'd meet them there, so nick was surprised to find they had arrived before Grissom.

"Did he take the day off and not tell us?" Nick asked jokingly.

But Sara wasn't laughing; as they processed the scene, she couldn't help but think of her supervisor and former lover. Greg and Sara had married a year after that first night together. She loved Greg, but a part of her still loved Gill; still wanted him. After two hours at the crime scene, Sara approached Nick.

"I think I'd better go find Grissom," she said, breaking off when Nick raised an eyebrow.

He saw the worry in Sara's expression, and looked around for the closest uniformed officer.

"Keep an eye on this, would you?" he asked, and at the officer's affirmative nod, said to Sara, "I'm going with you."

We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said I'll love her till I die
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby

The wood-grain casket was heavy, even though there were five others helping to carry it. Nick was still numbed by the shock of loosing his mentor, his supervisor, and his friend. Glancing across the casket at Warrick Brown, Nick could see that the other man couldn't believe it either. In front of Nick, Greg Sanders' shoulders sagged, and he walked slowly, his knuckles white as he gripped the handle on the casket. They carried the casket with the body of Gill Grissom inside slowly to the grave beneath a large weeping willow tree. Catherine stood there, her arm around Sara, as they waited for the graveside service to begin. Nick frowned. Sara was crying as if she'd never stop, and Nick wondered if she still had feelings for Gill. He'd been one of a handful of people that knew that Gill and Sara had been together at one time; but that was five years ago. Still, Nick couldn't help but wonder; he'd found Gill first, and had seen the note clutched in the man's hand. 'I'll love her 'till I die,' it had read. That was proof enough to Nick that his boss still had feelings for her. Judging by the way Sara was crying now, he knew that she was still in love with Grissom.

The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself
for years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath

Sara opened another bottle of whiskey and took a long swallow before replacing the lid and hiding it behind the extra change of clothes in her locker. She'd learned to keep her alcoholism to herself; after she'd been nearly kicked off the team for it several years ago. Now she was nearly to the point of not caring. It was her relationship with Greg that had started all this; that had ultimately resulted in Gill's death. She could still see his face as he made love to her; so intense, so full of love. How could she have done what she did? Oh, she loved her husband; Greg was a good man, and a good provider. But Sara could not shake the feelings of guilt she carried. When she and Nick had found Gill dead, her picture in his hand, she knew she was the reason he'd drank himself to death. She began drinking, trying to assuage her feelings of guilt. But it wasn't working. She'd been able to hide it from Greg, but even he was beginning to suspect something was up. Sara was usually passed out on the couch by ten pm; Greg hadn't said a word about it to her, though. And dammit, she almost wished he would.


She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind
until the night

She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away his memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees
We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life

Greg Sanders had barely made it home that morning. Working a double shift to cover his wife's absence from work had been tough on him. He'd gone in at four the afternoon before, and now it was almost ten AM. He'd pulled some overtime, because of the influx of DNA samples he'd had been given. Now, he was just ready to go to bed. He knew Sara would probably still be asleep; she was beginning to sleep later in the mornings. Greg had been suspecting that she was drinking again, but hadn't said anything to her for fear of making her feel guilty. As he climbed the stairs to their room, he wondered again if he should. Entering the room, he could see Sara's body in the bed. Walking over, he leaned down to kiss her cheek, when he noticed something wasn't right. Sara's lips were blue; her skin too pale.

"Sara?" Greg whispered, and noticed she was holding something in her hand.

Reaching down, he pulled the paper from her still fingers and turned it around. Greg's chin began to quiver, and as he stared at Sara, tears streaked down his face. The paper she'd held turned out to be a picture of Gill, and Greg knew then that his wife, the love of his life; was now with the one she truly loved.

We laid her next to him beneath the willow
while the angels sang a whiskey lullaby….

Catherine stood, in the same spot she had two years before, watching as Nick, Warrick and David Hodges carried Sara's casket towards the grave beneath the willow tree. She was in shock, yet it wasn't quite as bad as the shock Catherine had been in at Grissom's funeral. Today, she was angry; angry that they'd lost yet another team member, and angrier still that no one had noticed Sara's drinking. Greg, dressed in black, stood quietly beside Gill's headstone as he watched his colleagues carefully set his wife's casket over her grave beside Grissom. Greg had requested this; he realized that although she'd loved him, Sara belonged with Gill. He wanted to make sure he could do the best he knew to make this possible. The short memorial service was a blur to him, and he barely remembered shaking dozens of mourner's hands. He couldn't leave; couldn't bear to walk away without Sara. Slowly, Catherine came forward and placed an arm around his shoulders.

"Greg," she said softly, and he looked into her face.

Catherine's expression was concerned and motherly, and Greg felt his composure slip as she wrapped him in a soothing embrace. After a few minutes, he backed off, and allowed Catherine to lead him away from the graveside. Turning around once more, Greg blinked in surprise, stopping so suddenly that Catherine thought he was about to go back to the site. Turning, she looked in the direction Greg was staring, her jaw dropping in surprise.

Grissom stood against the huge trunk of the willow tree, his arms folded across his chest, and a gentle smile on his face. Catherine felt as though she could reach out and touch him. She'd never believed in ghosts, but as she watched, Sara walked slowly toward Grissom, a shy smile on her face. Holding out his hand, Grissom took Sara's in his, and they began walking away until both disappeared from view. Greg looked at Catherine, his eyes bright with tears.

"I never doubted she didn't love me," he began, his voice surprisingly strong, "but I think she's where she's always wanted to be."

Catherine nodded, squeezing her friend's shoulders.

"She's going to be okay now," Catherine whispered, her own tears running down her cheeks, streaking her makeup. Looking at Greg, she smiled. "And so are you."