Author's Notes:

Whew! I never thought I would finish this! First thanks to everyone who stuck with me, your reviews and comment kept me going...Lissa this chapter is for you for poking me into writting again. Also, thanks to Aus for her constant support, and beta reading…and the campaign pin!

Last, thank you Beejay for reading this chapter, and helping me maintain the continuity in the end.

So here it is…that last chapter of the longest piece I have ever written, and poured my heart and soul into. I hope the conclusion satisfies!

Chapter 17

Sara heard her phone ringing, but refused to answer it. She knew she would have to talk to Grissom eventually, but decided to do it on her terms.

Drinking the last of her beer, she grimaced. It was warm.

Having no desire to repeat her hangover a second night, she set the bottle down and walked to her couch. Curling up, she was hoping to get a buzz; just enough to numb her nerves and help her sleep.

The phone uttered one last ring before the answering machine picked up. She held her breath, waiting to see if he had the determination to leave a message.

/Sara. It's Nick. If you're there can you pick up?/

Surprised to hear the Texan accent float through her apartment, she picked up her phone. "Hey," she offered quietly.

A breath of relief rushed over the phone//Sara./

Concern pricked her, "Nicky. What's wrong?"

She listened to him clear his throat.

/Nothing. We, uh, we just closed Linley's case. Warrick and I are going to go out. I wanted to see if you wanted to come./

Sara wanted to say yes, but didn't think she was ready. She glanced at her door, it was locked securely. 'You can't hide in here forever Sidle,' she told herself.

/Sara?/

"Yeah Nick. I don't think I should," she answered.

/Yeah. Ok. It was a stupid idea. I just…we just…it was a tough case. I guess I wanted to have you with us. Remind us you're ok./

His voice held a raw emotion she had never heard before. She wanted to be there for her friend. That need began to override her fear. "Where are you going?"

/Where ever you want to go./

"How about I meet you by the Bellagio? The fountain relaxes me," she offered.

/We can come get you./ He offered, his excitement evident.

Fighting a smile, she chuckled. "I'm a big girl. I'll meet you there in 20 minutes."

--/--

"What a night," Warrick said after a heavy sigh. They were all relieved both Linley and Sara's case were behind them. "You guys hungry? Want to get something to eat?" he asked, it had been a while since he spent time with Sara, and he was hesitant to let the relaxed evening end.

They had found a peaceful bar, had a couple drinks, and had been able to talk without the tension that had surrounded the entire lab since Sara's attack. The residual concern still lingered he noted as he realized he and Nick had taken a protective flank on either side of her as they walked down the busy sidewalk.

"No, I think I'm going to call it a night," Sara answered honestly, her voice carried an air of serenity. The alcohol she had before meeting her friends, combined with the beer she had at the bar, was beginning to make her tired.

"Yeah, me, too," Nick admitted, glancing at the brunette between them.

Warrick gently placed a hand on Sara's back. "I feel ya. Get some rest," he told her and nodded toward Nick, making sure he was alright to take care of her the rest of the way.

Sara returned the touch with ease, relieved to finally be able to accept friends into her personal space with no reaction.

Nick nodded his understanding at the unspoken question, "All right, I'll see you."

Feeling embolden Sara grabbed Nick's arm, suddenly enjoying the fact that she was able to have normal contact. She knew that thanks in part went to the slight buzz she was feeling, but wasn't going to let that spoil her good mood. "Hey, hey, Nick, congratulations on your almost promotion."

Nick craned his neck to look in her eyes. He wasn't sure what surprised him more–her touch, her good mood, or her words.

She wanted to thank him for everything he had done for her, but needed to make sure he knew she had made peace with Grissom's decision that was made a life time ago. "Seriously, you deserve it," she told him.

His eyes sparkled with concern.

Seeing a flash of vulnerability in her eyes, he knew she was working her way up to something. His instant reaction was to tease her slightly, making her more comfortable.

Knowing him, and loving him like a brother, Sara instantly recognized the shift from concern to good natured humor. She was unable to stop the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth as she looked away from her friend.

"Wow. That's really hard for you, isn't it?" he asked laughing softly.

Pushing him away slightly, she smiled, "Yeah, it is."

"Yeah," he agreed, returned the smile, and watched her keep walking. He was torn between protecting her, and allowing her to have control over her actions. "Can I walk you to your car?" he called out.

She turned to him, and shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I just need to go home and get some sleep."

He nodded, watched her turn around again, and remained rooted in his spot until she walked up to her car in the parking garage across the street, unlocked the door, got inside, and immediately lock the door. Her actions reminded him she was still recovering despite the evening they had just shared. He felt a twinge of grief grip his heart, and wished, not for the first time, that he had been able to protect her.

It wasn't until he saw the car back out of its stall that he turned around, and headed for his own vehicle.

--/--

Grissom sat at his desk, reading another book on the recovery of rape victims. He wanted badly to be available for Sara, but was afraid that he was merely a set back for her. So he did the only thing he knew to do, research.

The phone interrupted his concentration, and he assumed it was going to be Greg with the final DNA results. Coombs had already confessed, but they were going to need the evidence to seal the case.

"Grissom," he answered unprepared for the conversation that was about to happen.

/Is this Sara Sidle's supervisor?/ the voice asked him.

"Yes," he answered adrenaline suddenly coursing through him.

/This is Officer Daniels. We have Ms. Sidle here at the station,/ he began.

Taking off his glasses, his fear grew exponentially with every word he was hearing, "Is she all right?"

Hearing the tension in his voice, the officer quickly began back tracking. /She's ok. She's not hurt. I picked her up this evening for driving under the influence. If you want to come down here, and pick her up, I can explain.

"I'll be right there," he answered quickly, hanging up the phone, and grabbing his keys as he ran out of the office.

--/--

"That was fast," Officer Daniels commented after seeing Gil Grissom enter the station.

Offering only a nod of acknowledgement he searched the crowded bullpen for Sara.

"She's in the waiting room. I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention to her," he explained motioning the older man toward the hallway. "Most everyone here knows her, and her case."

Offering an appreciative smile Grissom followed him toward the waiting room.

"She didn't stop completely at a stop sign. When she rolled down her window, I could smell the alcohol, and see that her eyes were dilated. She was lucky she wasn't on the strip. That's highway patrol's jurisdiction," he explained turning a corner. "She blew .09. Technically, she's over, but they just lowered the limit, so we cut her a break and didn't book her. But we did have to call the supervisor," he finished, not adding the fact that he didn't want to put her through any more heartache then she had experienced that month. He had personally never worked with her, but he knew Vartann and Brass respected her and cared for her deeply. That was the only stamp of approval he needed.

Turning into the waiting room, he pointed to Sara sitting quietly.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate the courtesy," Grissom returned with genuine gratitude.

"No problem," Officer Daniels told the CSI and walked away without another word.

Grissom stood for a moment in the doorway, observing Sara. Any other day, any other lifetime, he would have lectured her. She was sitting, her back to him, but he knew she sensed his presence. He guessed she was waiting for the lecture.

Walking around the row of chairs, he sat down quietly next to her. He noted her refusal to look at him, and the pain in her face.

There was a lot about her he didn't think he would ever understand, but he was beginning to figure out how he felt about her. He stared at her hands that hung loosely together.

He loved her, and wanted desperately to be there for her. Sighing softly, he reached over and took her hand in his. He saw tears in her eyes, but knew they wouldn't fall. "Come on. I'll take you home," he told her gently.

Lowering her head, he saw a tear slip out of her control and down her cheek. He pulled her to him, wrapping his free arm around her, squeezing her hand with his other. Finally the dam broke wide open, and she began sobbing violently. "Shh, it's ok. You're ok," he promised her, resting his cheek on top her head.

"I just…what was I thinking? I just ruined my career," she sobbed. "It was all I had left."

Grissom's brow creased with confusion. "Sara. It's ok. Let's get out of here," he offered, pulling her to her feet. He wanted to protect her from prying eyes.

Inhaling deeply, she wiped the side of her face with her sleeve. "Grissom, no. We can't just leave," she told him, her eyes were red and swollen, and she was attempting to steady her breathing. "They haven't printed me, or given me my fine."

Shaking his head, he leaned back trying to get eye contact. "Sara, no. Officer Daniels isn't filing anything. I'm going to take you home," he explained hoping to get through to her.

Relief washed over her. "He's not?"

"No. But if you want to argue with him, he might listen to you," Grissom offered.

Smiling slightly, she shook her head. "No. Home sounds good to me," Sara told him.

They both turned toward the door, and Sara looped her arm around his. "Thanks for coming Gris."

"Always," he promised.

--/--

Grissom watched her sleep from the kitchen chair he had moved into her bedroom. She hadn't moved since she lied down nearly four hours previous.

His thoughts shifted from Supervisor Grissom needing to correct a self destructive action to Gil Grissom the man who loved her, and wanted to protect her from further heartache.

Both thoughts ended with the same conclusion, he should have found a way to get her to talk to someone professionally. She would have to now, but he could have spared her the humiliation she faced that night.

Leaning closer to her still form, he brushed her hair out of her eyes. It took every ounce of self control to not kiss her. At that moment he knew he would in the near future, but he wanted both of them to remember it. The thought of the violation she had to face at the hands of Kelley James, made him feel sick at the thought of even kissing her with out her expressed permission.

Fighting sleep, his eyes fluttered quickly. He leaned back in his chair rubbing his face, and taking a deep breath. He needed sleep, but he didn't want to leave her side.

Glancing around, he found some extra bedding on top of the hope chest at the foot of her bed. With a flick of his wrists, the blanket unfolded in the air, and floated gently down to the ground beside the bed.

A small groan escaped from Sara, and Grissom froze. He wanted her to sleep, and was afraid his motion had disturbed her.

He watched her battle her demons in her sleep as her eyes moved rapidly beneath her eyelids, and random muscles twitched.

"No…he didn't…he didn't touch me mom," she whispered as her brow contracted as if in intense concentration.

Grissom wasn't sure what to do. He felt oddly voyeuristic just standing there.

"No…stop it. Stop," her pleas sounded weak and vulnerable, and in an instant, her eyes shot open, and she lunged for the bathroom.

Grissom moved quickly to follow, but did not enter the small room. Seeing her wretch was painful for him to watch. When the dry heaving finally stopped, Grissom took one step forward. "Sara," he finally spoke.

She turned her head to look at the source of her name. Her eyes squinted as she focused on him. "Grissom?" she asked listlessly.

One more step forward. "Yeah, Sara. Can I help?" he asked not wanting to push her.

She stood, but continued to study him like she had never seen him before. "Are you…Am I still dreaming?" she asked.

Another step. He shook his head. "I'm here," he told her. They were almost toe to toe, but Grissom waited for her to decide his next move. She was clearly incoherent.

She made no move, but looked into his eyes with an intensity that seemed to bore into his soul. "Are you going to leave?" she asked.

"Not unless you tell me to," he answered, hoping she wouldn't.

Her shoulders slumped, and she seemed disappointed. "Then I'm still dreaming," she said and side-stepped her way past him.

He turned quickly, and caught her arm.

A small cry of pain escaped her.

He dropped her arm as if it bit him. "Sara. I'm sorry. Damn it, I'm so sorry," he told her taking a step back.

She gently rubbed her arm. "I'm not dreaming," she suddenly realized.

Another step back. "No, Sara I forgot about the bruising. Sara, forgive me," he pleaded.

"Grissom…" she trailed off, and sighed softly. Without another word, she turned around and walked back into her bedroom.

He waited a beat, before following, and found her staring at the blanket spread on the floor.

Sensing him behind her, she turned to him. "You were going to sleep on the floor?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I didn't want to leave you," he answered, walking around the room allowing the bed to act as a buffer between them.

"Because you thought I was going to hurt myself?" she asked, her emotions raw.

Shaking his head, he searched for the words to explain. "I was trying to decide what to do about–"

"–this? Me?" she finished for him, echoing his hurtful words.

"Us," he finished allowing it to hang in the air.

"I don't think there was an "us"," she told him.

Without thinking, he walked quickly around the bed, standing inches apart again, but deciding to not make contact unless she initiated it. "I want there to be. I think there is," he explained.

Her eyes roamed the room, and he knew she was thinking.

"Am I too late?" he whispered.

"That depends–"

"–on what?" he asked quickly.

"Are you saying this out of pity or guilt?" she asked bluntly.

His eyes locked on hers, and traveled down to her lips. "No. I think I love you," he finally revealed.

Surprised she took a step back. "You think?"

"I know," he corrected himself.

"Have you been in love. Do you know it's love?" her rapid fire questions carried no animosity.

"No. I've never been in love. That's why I know. I have never felt like this before," he explained longing to embrace her.

His words melted her last defenses. Tears burned in her eyes. Leaning forward, she brought her lips to his.

Tenderly he returned the kiss, hugging her as if she were a porcelain doll.

Pulling away, she laid her head against his chest. "I love you too Grissom," she said with a pause, "but that's all I can give right now."

Her honesty mixed with the reality of her words hit him at once. "Sara, if you were never able to kiss me again, I would have that memory and your company to sustain me," he told her.

"John Donne?" she asked.

"No. Gil Grissom," he explained.

She chuckled slightly, and pulled away.

Her warmth lingered on him, and he watched her move to her bed.

"Can you sleep here? Not on the floor," she asked.

He silently nodded, and crawled onto the bed next to her.

He waited for her to find a comfortable spot, and he draped a comforting arm around her.

"What happens next?" she asked staring out the window.

He pulled her closer to him. "We wait and see what tomorrow brings, and deal with it together," he promised.

THE END!