Thanks again for all the reviews. Sorry for a slightly longer gap between parts than usual but hey, that's what school does to you. Only 3 days back and I'm loaded with homework and I've already received my first AS Level examination entry sheet... oh the fun.. at least I can escape to writing!

Enjoy

Em xxx

The car journey that Nick and Grissom made after leaving Sara's apartment was completely silent. Nick focused on driving, determined not to let his mind wander. Grissom wished he could do the same. But he couldn't get the image of Sara's face out of his head. She had looked so angry; so unforgiving. As though they had committed some unspeakable act rather than just let their imaginations run wild. Of course he could see the fault in their actions but really their biggest mistake had been too much concern. Yet Sara's reaction – he had not seen anything like it aside from the occasions when personal feelings had got the better of her and she had blown up at suspects. She had been as angry with them as she had been in the past with murderers and rapists. Anyone observing the scene just passed would never have guessed the previous closeness between Sara and her colleagues.

And boy did that hurt.

The shift passed slower than ever. Nick and Grissom did not mention the events of the evening and responded to questions regarding Sara simply with 'she's feeling a little under the weather.' The day passed equally slowly. Grissom failed to sleep, giving up at the 121st sheep, and it was with a terrible weariness that he headed to work again, less than 24 hours after the confrontation with Sara.

With a sigh he stepped into his office and sat down at the desk before beginning to sort through a mountain of paperwork, which seemed much taller and far harder to conquer than usual, with a remarkable lack of enthusiasm. A letter caught his eye. Marked 'fao Gilbert Grissom' it was neither stamped nor addressed, implying it must have been hand delivered. Intrigued yet still lacking the energy to deal with any mail he placed it aside, ready to open the minute he could muster any energy. He briefly checked his emails before leaving his office to make the cup of coffee he so desperately needed. Upon reaching the coffee machine he met Catherine, Nick, Warrick and Greg, all standing in a huddle and talking in hushed tones.

"Now there's an interesting take on gossiping around the water cooler," Grissom joked. By his standards the level of humour was raised but the comment, lacking any energy or enthusiasm, failed to raise a smile. The stares he attracted, however, gave Grissom no doubt as to what they were talking about. "Nick told you then."

"Huh?" Greg murmured, seemingly in a state of shock.

"About yesterday. Look, I know it was stupid but-"

Nick interrupted. "Have you checked your mail this morning?"

"Briefly. Why?"

Nick stepped forward and handed Grissom an envelope marked with the words, 'The Team'. It was Sara's handwriting. "I found this in my locker when I arrived."

With a deep breath Grissom opened it.

Dear all,

I've sent Grissom a formal resignation, but I couldn't go without leaving you something. I know this must seem sudden, but I have to leave. I can't tell you exactly why – it's complicated. But I want you all to know that it's nothing to do with you. It has been joy to work with such a dedicated and compassionate team over the last few years and I will miss you all more than you can imagine. My time in Las Vegas has been some of the happiest of my life, even if I haven't always said so. Maybe one day I'll be back, but I don't want you to dwell on my departure. All I wish is that you keep working as well as you always do. Keep catching those baddies!

With all my love,

Sara

Grissom read the letter in silence. Then reread it, again and again. He looked up at the on-looking team. Their faces displayed the feelings he had inside. An air of shocked disbelief and melancholy hung over them all. Silently he turned away from them and left the room, feeling their gazes on his back. He entered his office and picked up the letter he had placed aside earlier. Hands shaking, he tore it open. Inside was Sara's resignation.

"NICK!" His voice, close to cracking, echoed throughout the building. Within seconds the whole team had gathered in the doorway to his office. He turned to them, holding out the letter as though it held the explanation for everything. "Where is that key?"

"Key?"

"The key to Sara's apartment."

"You heard what she said yesterday. Emergencies only."

"If this isn't an emergency, Nick, I don't know what is."

"I don't know, Griss."

"I'll go alone if I have to. I just need that key."

Nick turned to Warrick and Greg. They shrugged, bewildered. Then he turned to Catherine. With a sigh, she spoke. "You're serious, aren't you Gil."

"Never been more serious in my life."

"Then there's not much we can do."

Nick dug a hand into his pocket and brought out the keys. Painstakingly slowly he removed one from the keyring and placed it in Grissom's hand. With quiet thanks, Grissom made a dash out of the door. And if he wasn't mistaken there were faint smiles on all their faces as the team watched him go.

As Sara took one last look around her apartment, she felt as though her heart might be torn to pieces. She had never expected it to be this difficult; for there to be all these memories. And moreover she was leaving the one place which had ever made her happy. It had been a struggle departing the lab for the very last time earlier that day. She had chosen a moment when she had been sure not one member of the team would be around. Personal goodbyes were not her forte. A letter would have to do. But then it had still not felt real. It was like a dream. The day had passed her by without any sense of reality. She had packed a suitcase; made some arrangements for transport and accommodation. And all the time she had been floating in a state of limbo.

And now here she was: standing in the doorway. Her suitcase was in the car packed with the bare necessities: clothes, toiletries, personal documents, a few photos. She had cleaned and tidied her apartment. She would make more long term arrangements when she was settled, far away from here. Far away from her work…far away from her friends…far away from everything which was familiar to her-

She stopped herself mid thought, harshly wiping a tear from her eye. She could not allow herself to think like that. What she was doing was strictly necessary. There was no time for dwelling. In one swift movement she turned off the light and closed the door, turning the key in the lock for one last time. She hurried down the stairs and into her car, not once allowing herself to look back. Her chest was tight with the effort of holding back her emotion. As quickly as images of what she was leaving behind appeared in her head she banished them to the back of her mind. No doubt they would reappear eventually, but for now she couldn't cope with them.

Drawing up to some traffic lights she switched on the radio. Far too cheerful DJs babbled on about the upcoming evening in Las Vegas; music with a heavy bass hurt her head; adverts tried to persuade her to buy a new bed. Before the lights had even turned green she switched it off again.

She focused hard on the road ahead of her. All of a sudden a green Mercedes pulled out from the side of the road. Sara slammed on the brakes, throwing herself forward in her seat. "IDIOT!" She slammed her hand down on the horn, feeling blood surge through her body. As the Merc turned right at the next junction she slammed her foot onto the accelerator. She could feel a migraine coming on. She would never have guessed that emotional turmoil could cause such physical torment. She screwed her eyes shut to try and rid her head of the flashing lights which were causing her such pain, and opened them just in time to see the brake lights of the car in front as she slammed straight into the back of it.