Author's note: Again, I am SO sorry! But this time, I promise, I WILL update at least once a week! I no longer have drumline practice, and work only goes until five, add to that only two classes… I have a life now! Which means I can write again! So, here's to hoping I get around to this more often. Please enjoy!

……….

Following the pair hadn't been hard to do. Neither had keeping up with them. Staying out of their sight, though, and making sure his face wasn't seen… well, that was another story.

He had told her his name once, or a name, anyway. It had been something simple, common, a name easily forgotten or remembered. It had been one of her first questions, and he had answered it without hesitation; Matthew. Sara probably knew it was fake, but at least it was something.

Matthew had given her a lot of things. So many windows to the outside world through his words. That had been half the joy in keeping her; she always became so desperate for information. It was always entertaining. His name had just been the beginning of it all. It gave her something to cling to. It kept her alive, barely. And even he admitted he needed her to carry out his revenge. He had always come around quicker then Grissom.

Watching the couple board their plane, he leaned back in the hard plastic chair and thought back to the day he had met Gil Grissom. The cold October wind biting at his face as he made his way into the lecture hall, filing in behind a group of chattering girls, a younger Sara Sidle falling just behind them as well. Listening intently as Dr. Grissom went through his presentation, jotting down questions and comments. The sting of rejection as Grissom left with Sara, focused only on her as he brushed past him. No one had ever done that before, and even when he had tried to approach him later, the way "the doctor" had brushed him off for a 'previous engagement with another student.' It still stung.

Matthew brushed aside the anger that pulsed through his veins, and steadied his breathing. 'Another day for that, Matt,' he calmly thought to himself, as he watched the last of the passengers board the plane. They'd be calling his flight, soon, and that was something he certainly didn't want to miss.

Gently, he grabbed his carry on from the floor next to him, and made his way over to the gate. There was no rush, no hurry. Yes, he had made promises, lots of promises, to Ms. Sidle, but they could wait just a little longer. Once he made a promise, he always kept them, and that was one thing he knew Sara was sure of.

"Flight 237 to Las Vegas now boarding. All passengers please report to Gate 11."

He was already keeping one, and it wouldn't be too long before he kept another.

……….

Like most nights in Las Vegas, the job had been hard and demanding, but it opened up to a beautiful desert morning. Day shift had taken over by now, and night shift made their way to the nearest diner. Angie's had always catered to their early morning dietary needs, and today was no different.

Or maybe it was.

None of the cases had been different, nor the criminals caught by the end of shift, but there was definitely something different about today. Two CSI's had left at the beginning of shift, a new lead on an old, but familiar, case. And each and every one of them waited for news.

The three men sat around the table, and quickly ordered the usual from the friendly waitress, before turning to each other. Warrick and Nick sat across from the younger CSI, Greg, who poked absentmindedly at his coffee cup. Warrick ran a hand over his cell for the hundredth time that night, as if the motion would make it ring. Nick stared off into space, lost in his own thoughts. None of them spoke. After all, what could they say, really? Today hadn't been like any other day. It was like losing one of their own all over again, except this time, there might be a happy ending. When the silence became too much, Warrick was the first to speak.

"Not hearing anything has got to be good, right?"

Always the optimist.

"I mean, they must be so busy asking her questions and getting her checked out and stuff that they don't have time to call."

Looks were exchanged around the table. Everyone was thinking it, but no one dare say it. Maybe she was dead, and processing her body is what held up the phone call they were waiting for. But the other two nodded.

"Yeah," Nick said quietly, "she's fine, but, it'll take sometime."

The table went silent again, as their food was brought over and set in front of them. Thanking the waitress, they quietly picked at their food.

"It happened two years ago today, didn't it?" asked Greg.

Warrick and Nick nodded. But the revelation was short lived. Warrick's cell rang.

Quickly swallowing a mouthful of eggs, he flipped his phone open, and pressed it against his ear.

"Brown," he said casually.

"Warrick, Catherine."

"Cath, damn, it's taken you guys forever. Spill, now," he said quickly as Nick and Greg leaned in, food forgotten.

"We found her. Considering what she's been through, she's pretty good. Emotionally banged up, as well as physically, but, she's on her way back to Vegas with Grissom as we speak," she said.

"So, she's alive and well?"

"Yes. The bastard that did this though didn't come with the package. I'm going to work the angle over here for a few more days, but there isn't much to go on. I'll see you all soon."

Warrick breathed a sigh of relief, "Right Cath."

"Oh, and Warrick?"

"Yeah."

"I found out about something today. Something between Grissom and Sara. When they get back, if you see them together, and they seem extra close, let them have it. They both need it," she said quietly.

"Yeah, ok. I'll catch you later."

He hung up.

"So?" Greg asked excitedly.

A grin broke over Warrick's face, "She's alright. Well, considering."

Nick let out a long breath, and Greg's head fell into his hands. Nobody in their small group had been that happy or relieved in a long time. After two years, their missing friend was finally back.

"So, what else did Catherine say?" asked Nick.

"She's staying in Denver for a few more days to work their evidence and any leads, Grissom and Sara are on a plane now, and letting Grissom and Sara share their closeness. She kinda implied they had been together before all of this."

"Oh, and like that's a surprise," Nick grinned.

"Is to me," mumbled Greg.

Warrick and Nick shared a glance, then started to laugh. Greg quickly joined them. For two years, up until this point, laughing hadn't really seemed appropriate, but suddenly, it was ok to live again. They turned back to their food, and shoveled it down, feeling like once again, things were back to normal.

"Wait, they're on their way back already?" asked Nick.

"That's what Catherine said."

"Coming home might make Sara feel better. Plus she'll have all of us to keep her safe. Right?" said Greg.

"Of course. We're always here for her, always were. She knows, I'm sure. Wait 'til she gets back. Sara'll have nothing to fear anymore."

……….

Looking out the window on the lights of Vegas blinking below her, Sara couldn't help but feel the fear inside her rising again. A bead of sweat dripped down her cheek as she licked her lips.

"Home," she whispered to the window.

"Huh?" asked Grissom, leaning over.

Sara turned to him and gave him a small smile, "Uh, home. Guess we'll be landing soon."

Grissom looked past her and out the window, nodding when he saw the city below, "Yeah, guess so."

Sara looked back out the window, and frowned. It had been two years since she had stepped out of Grissom's apartment on her way to Denver. She had no idea how much might have changed. And the people she had left behind too, not just the city. She had seen Catherine just before she left, but she hadn't heard much about Greg, or Nick or Warrick. And even though she was sitting right next to Grissom, she had no idea what he had been through in the last two years.

"Hey, Grissom?"

"Yeah?"

Sara sighed, "Remember how you said you needed me to open up, and trust you?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Maybe, if you started out telling me little things, opening up with you about what happened and this transition back into life might not be so hard. You know, if we get these communication lines open again."

Grissom stared at her thoughtfully, and nodded, "Yeah, ok. What would you like to know?"

Sara bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. Grissom studied that look careful, remembering all the evenings off sitting on the couch solving crossword puzzles together. She got that same look with the harder words. He smiled at the memories.

"How's the lab been?" she asked a simple question first.

"Great. Not the same without you but, you know. Greg's a CSI level two now. Ecklie was fired about six months ago. Accepted a bribe from a public official he had been investigating. Other then that, there isn't much to tell."

Sara smiled, and nodded, "Thank you."

"Of course."

Sara stayed quiet for a brief second, then took in a deep breath, "There was a girl named Stacy."

"A girl named Stacy?"

"About a year ago. Looked kind of like me in the dark. Maybe around 19 years old. Scared to death. He, um, he killed her," Sara whispered quietly.

Grissom sat quietly and searched his mind. Then he remembered.

It seemed to pull back in agonizingly slow motion, the whir of the rope buzzing in Grissom's ears. It revealed a table similar to the ones he had seen a million times in Vegas's morgue; the same cold steel, hidden underneath a white sheet, and a dead body. Grissom stared intently at the tuft of brown hair sticking out from underneath the sheet, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was the same hair he had run his fingers through so many times before. Grissom swallowed hard as the assistant stepped up to the table, gently gripping the edge of the sheet, and slowly pulled back.

Grissom inhaled sharply, then leaned in, placing his hand on the window. He licked his lips, then turned away, heading for the door.

"Mr. Grissom?" questioned the M.E.

"It's not her."

"I had to I.D. a body, about a year ago. A young girl."

"Was she shot?"

"Yes."

Sara nodded, and turned away. Grissom carefully laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You know, she didn't have a name until now. When you're up to it, we'll talk to Detective Warner and give that girl and her family some peace."

Sara smiled as a tear fell down her face. It was a small victory, but a victory to the good guys none the less.

"This is your captain speaking. We're about to land in beautiful Las Vegas. Please, fasten your seatbelts. We hope you enjoyed your flight, and enjoy your stay in Las Vegas, Nevada."

For Sara, though, unlike the tourists she shared the flight with, it wasn't just a brief stay in Vegas.

She was finally home.