A/N Thanks to Jennifer, Michelle and Joan. Sorry it's taken so long. Real life and all of that. I am having some formatting issues. Let me know if anything is hinky(is that a word?)

Observation

Why did she always have to be so late? That was the bitter refrain that rang over and over again in his head as he waited on Alana. He tried to imagine what she was doing; going through that humongous clear cosmetic bag of hers as she rummaged around for the perfect lipstick, to go with the perfect nail polish, and the perfect blush.

Alana was naturally a beautiful woman, but that never stopped her from working so damned hard at it. He didn't remember it being so irritating before. When she did finally show up (20 minutes late), he found his anger seeping away quickly as she tipped across the dark room. Her dark denim jeans clung to her soft curves, with a loose, white linen shirt barely covering her midriff.

She did look amazing, with a dark cascade of hair nearly covering one eye. Her full mouth was dark and red, and surprisingly inviting. He stood as she neared the table.

His irritation started to seep away as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She returned the gesture, lingering a bit too long. They regarded one another for several seconds before finally taking their seats awkwardly.

He took several deep breaths trying to quiet the familiar feelings she'd stirred in him. Really, Alana was no different then she'd always been. A little too vain. Slightly self absorbed. But at the heart, a good woman. Just not the woman for him.

It troubled him that he saw other things in her eyes. There was too much hope and circles of anticipation dancing in her earth colored eyes.

Alana nervously drummed blood red nails on the battered oak table. "You look...good."

He gave a soft smile, wondering what the pause was about, but decided to ignore it. "You do, too."

"Thank you," she said, a little too coyly for his taste. She knew she looked good. She'd spent at least a solid hour making sure of that fact.

"I'm glad you agreed to meet me," she said softly as the ancient jukebox began to crank out Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire.

Raising her voice over the music she said, "How long are you here for?"

Without giving it much thought he replied, "Just until the morning." He hadn't known it before she arrived, but he was leaving, as soon as possible. To bring Sara home.

"Oh." Her brows rose for only a second, and a look of disappointment settled in her nearly black eyes.

Just then, a thin, dark haired waiter appeared at their table. Grissom barely gave him a second glance. He had no intention of eating.

The young man stood a little straighter as his eyes raked over Alana. He gave her the full effect of even white teeth. "I know he's the medium-well, double thick, bacon burger, and so you must be jalapeño veggie burger."

Alana's eyes clouded with confusion at first, and then she let out soundless breath. "Ah," she said turning towards Grissom. "You two have been hitting all the spots..."

Not realizing his mistake, the young man tossed his longish hair and scribbled on his pad. "What can I get you two to drink with those?" As the waiter finally looked up, he sensed the discomfort between them and wordlessly moved away.

One beat. Two beats. Finally, he gave her a gentle smile. "Alana, I don't know what to say…to you." he shrugged.

She ran a hand over her thick black hair, eventually tucking a section behind one diamond studded ear. Alana had never been afraid of adornment.

"Say whatever you came to say, Gil."

He inched his fingers to meet hers, lifting his head to look into her dark eyes. "You are a wonderful person. I'm very sorry for avoiding you. I was just trying to make my relationship work and I thought avoiding you was the appropriate way to do it. It wasn't."

Alana leaned away and settled her back into the chair, pulling her fingers into her lap as she did so.

Gil continued. "I made a lot of mistakes when we were together. I can't undo those. I can only tell you how profoundly sorry I am that-I wasn't the man you needed me to be. I needed to grow up. There were things that I thought I couldn't do- maybe I didn't want to do them. For everything I did or didn't do, I am very sorry."

"Gil..." Alana sighed and shifted her weight from one hip to another. Sighing she shook her head quickly. "You don't have to-"

"I do," he insisted. "I need you know that there's better than me out there for you. There's someone that makes-your heart sing. I don't do that for you Alana. I never have. Yes, we were in love, but I'm not your love and you aren't mine." He touched an index finger to the left side of his chest. "I want for you to feel the way Sara makes me feel. Even when it's bad, everything is so much better with her than without."

Alana sat, quiet and still. Silent tears ran down her cheeks and pooled at her chin. The young man returned and gave Alana two clean napkins which she almost immediately blackened with mascara and shadow smudges. He gave Gil a quick glare. Again he retreated wordlessly.

They sat like that for several minutes, or perhaps it was hours, Alana couldn't be sure. Later she'd remember how kind he was. How true and sincere his words were. How he'd only wanted the best for her. And later, after she'd found the person that made her heart sing, she'd thank God for Gil Grissom every single day.

Observation

By the time Kelly found her Sara had lost a significant amount of blood. Her skin was pale, smudgy circles under her eyes. She didn't need medical tests or hospitals to tell her what happen. A woman just knew when part of her was dying, being ripped from her. Then why hadn't she known that it living?

"Call Gil." was all she said as she closed her eyes and fell back to the edge of consciousness.

Observation

He was the first to step from the boat. He'd been antsy the entire way over, hardly speaking with the other passengers who tried to exchange pleasantries. Without Sara by his side, the relaxing boat trip had turned into an extremely tedious journey. He'd sucked down two scotch and sodas. He considered another, but thought better of it.

He didn't know if Sara had taken the car and certainly didn't want to be pulled over for drunk driving. Wouldn't Nancy Grace love that, "Famed forensics investigator arrested for driving drunk."

He was chuckling to himself as he thought of sharing that odd thought with Sara.

The phone in his jacket pocket vibrated and let out a solitary high-pitched beep. He glanced at the readout, and smiled into the receiver. "You'll never guess where I am?"

Kelly's breathless, panicked voice cut straight through the airwaves. "Gil. It's Kelly. Sara's sick. Really sick. She had to be rushed to St. Mark's."

The slow jog he'd started upon hearing Kelly's voice turned into an all out sprint. He hung up the phone without even replying.

"I'm on my way, Gorgeous. I'm on my way."