I grab some food in the fridge and position myself in the sofa. It's been a month since Grissom has gone back to work. It turn out 8 years of forgotten memory doesn't make that much of a difference for a genius. The sheriff was practically begging him to come back. It's also been a month since I decided to take sometime off. I have a knack for running away from my problems. That's all going to change tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I'm going to face Grissom.

I turn the television on and it, right away, turns to a forensic show I've been meaning to watch. It hasn't started yet so I decide to check my messages.

My eyes widen when I realize that I have more than a 100 of them. The tape was probably full. I didn't think that the team would call me here since we practically talk to each other every day through modern technology a.k.a. cell phones.

Do I have some kind of boyfriend no ones telling me about? I thought as I pressed play.

Silence followed the first few messages. Not complete silence. I could hear someone's television playing in the background. At first, I figured that it was probably a wrong number but then I realize that almost all of my messages, except a couple from the lab, were from whoever was calling.

Prank caller? I reach for the caller ID and check who had called.

I blink and rub my eyes at the number that continuously flashed on the screen as I pressed down. Was I delusional? The man might have amnesia- but I don't and I know his phone number when I see it.

Grissom.

I reach for the phone and immediately dial his number. I swear my heart is beating three times faster than normal. Was it possible that he actually remembers me? I'm actually half-believing the possibility that he remembers me. After all, why would he even call me?

After about three rings, he finally answers.

"Hello."

I gulped. "It's Sara."

"Sara who?"

I think I just had a heart attack. Way to get your hopes up Sidle. Of course he won't remember you. He doesn't even remember Greg and he's known him longer. I bite my upper lip and decide to muster up some excuse. "You know what, I think I dialed the wrong number. I'm just gonna-

"Wait. Don't put the phone down. I know you." He stops me and I keep my silence, waiting for him to continue. "Well, I don't exactly know you. At least I think I don't. But-

"But what?"

It takes a couple of seconds before he starts talking again and I realize that he's hesitating.- Like he was figuring out a way to explain... everything. I am tempted to tell him that he used to give out quotes every time he was at a loss for words- but I figured he knew that already since he's only lost about 8 years of his memory.

"Your number. I've been calling it for the past few weeks." He finally says.

I blink in confusion. My first night in Vegas in a month and already I'm going to stress. "Why?"

"I don't know why." He replies. "I was hoping you can tell me."

I let out a chuckle. A sarcastic one. Of course I didn't know why. I wouldn't be calling if I knew.

"I don't know either, Grissom. That's why I called you."

"I'm sorry. I had an-

"An accident." I continue for him. "I know."

I want to tell him that I'd waited by his side when he was still comatose. I also want to tell him that he had called me before he had the accident. I want to tell him that we argue practically everyday but I don't. I have a feeling that it's not the right time.

"You know?"

"I'm you co-worker. My name's Sara."

I hear him clear his throat. I can tell that he's a bit uncomfortable. Not that I'm surprise, I am too. It's as if we're talking with each other for the first time on the phone. Only we've know each other for years.

"Sara." He lets my name roll of his tongue. "Catherine told me about you. You're coming tomorrow, right?"

"Right." I tell him. I'm happy I called him- even if he doesn't know who I am. At least I won't have to handle too much tension when we see each other at the lab tomorrow. "Grissom, I have to go. I'll see you at work."

"Sara?"

"What?"

"Are we best friends or something?" He asks me. He sounds so gullible- so unlike Grissom, that for a second there, I almost forget about his predicament.

"We're friends." I tell him and I swear I hear him give out a confused sigh.

FLASHBACK:

He picks up the phone and dials her number. She'll tell her tonight. He'll ask her out to dinner and she'll say yes and it'll be happily ever after. He's half-hoping that she's not home. He's done this for years. Calling her, and then backing out, sometimes even pretending to not know information about a case. He's always at a loss for words when he talks to her- and he never is with anyone else.

"Sara here. I'm not home right now please-

He puts the phone down before the recording finishes. Tomorrow. He decides to call tomorrow.