The hour-long flight passed pleasantly enough for the both of them, Grissom quickly sneaking in to take the middle seat so that Sara had no choice but to sit in the aisle seat. They sat in companionable silence, both reading their journals. At one point, Sara fell asleep for twenty minutes, her head dropping to rest on Grissom's shoulder. She smiled in embarrassment when she woke up, lifting her head and tucking her hair behind her ear. "Sorry," she apologised.

Grissom looked at her over the top and side of his glasses. "It's okay, I don't mind," he replied. "We've only got about fifteen minutes left anyway."

Sara stretched her legs out and yawned. "My mom said she'll be waiting for us when the flight gets in, it's only about a half-hour drive from the airport."

"I wasn't aware that LAX was close to any residential areas." Grissom took his glasses off and slipped in the top left-hand pocket of his shirt.

"It's not exactly what you'd call prime residential living. But she couldn't keep the house by Tamales Bay, and there's only her living at home, so there's not much point her having a big house."

"But is she safe? Are there no other males around? What about your brother?"

"Just because a guy's around, it doesn't mean a woman's safer. And I'd really appreciate it if you didn't bring up my brother in conversation unless my mom voluntarily offers information."

"Why?"

Sara sighed, not happy at the look he was giving her - it was the look normally reserved for a piece of evidence that caught his attention, and she knew she had his full attention, whether or not she particularly wanted it. "You know my parents found him with weed and grounded him for a year?" Grissom nodded. "Well it turned out that he was supplying, and not just to his high school friends. He was a drug runner for a small gang, and he ended up in juvenile hall three times. After that, he was in and out of prison. We've lost track of him."

"You were never motivated to keep in touch?"

"I figured he'd probably wind up on Doc Robbins' table soon enough. He gave my mom enough shit for trying to stand up against my father, so I guess it turns out Sidle men are genetically predisposed to be assholes."

Grissom, taken aback at her tone of voice, tried to appease her. "I'm sure that's only because he didn't have a suitable male role model to guide him in the right direction."

"Considering my dad broke two of my brother's ribs when my parents found out about the weed, I'm thinking he got the idea that what he was doing was wrong."

"What about you? How did all this affect you?"

"I'd rather not talk about that right now. I don't need to see my mom for the first time in ten years with those sort of memories."

Grissom thought about diverting her attention. "If it's a two-bedroom apartment, what are the sleeping arrangements?"

Sara smiled. "Trying to change the subject? No, I'm only kidding," she added when she saw that he was about to protest. "My mom was gonna give you the spare room, sleep on the couch and give me her room ….".

"That's a bit stupid, isn't it?" Grissom asked.

"That's exactly what I told her, so I said that she could keep her room, you could take the spare room, and I'd sleep in a sleeping bag in the spare room with you."

"I wouldn't ask you to sleep on the floor. I'm the guy, it should be me."

"In case it had escaped your notice, you're also the guest. Despite my family being fucked up, we did have some manners instilled in us." She smiled sardonically. "Anyway, I know you'd do the same if I was visiting your mother with you."

"You don't know how far from the truth you are. My mom would have an extra room built onto the house for you. Mind you," he reconsidered, "she'd probably want to know why I wouldn't be sharing with a woman I brought home."

"You've never taken a woman or girlfriend to meet your mom?" Sara asked in disbelief. Either women were blind, or it was Grissom cutting himself off, and she knew she certainly wasn't blind, so that kind of narrowed it down.

"Rarely," Grissom answered. "And any women that did meet her had a habit of disappearing soon afterwards.

"What, did she kill them?"

"No, they just found her too much to handle. I guess it's 'cause she had more insight about them than I did."

"You're just shy," Sara told him. "They probably thought that you didn't care about them, when in actual fact you're the kind of guy who'd remember everything about them, the name of their childhood pets, how old they were when they got the scar above their knee, the name of their first boyfriend, where they'd most like to go in the world. The list is endless," Sara added, shrugging.

"What makes you think that?"

"You can't help but observe things about people. You know things about them, but when it comes to opening yourself up to them, you're scared."

"Thanks," he replied, looking grumpy.

"You're welcome," Sara laughed. "Look, don't take it the wrong way ….".

"I'm not." He frowned. "I'm pissed off because I know you're right."

"Me being right pisses you off?"

"No. For me, you being right about things is a vicarious victory, as I tend to think we're right about the same sort of things. No, it pisses me off that someone else knows about my weaknesses."

Honey," she said in a brief flash of endearment, "being shy or unwilling to open isn't a weakness. It's something everybody does, it's an ego defence."

"Please don't talk to me about anything Freud said, it makes me paranoid. I start looking at cigars and think they have hidden meanings."

The seatbelt light clicked on, and Sara buckled hers, nudging Grissom gently in the side so he'd do the same.

"You feeling nervous?" Grissom asked, seeing Sara's face subtly changed. He picked up her hand and squeezed it gently, moving his thumb up and down on hers. "Any time you wanna go, or need to get away from there, you just let me know, okay?"

She nodded without looking at him, and applied a slight amount of pressure to his hand. "Thanks."

"I mean it. It won't make you any less of a person if you feel it's too much to cope with me. I'm behind you all the way."