Sara walked towards the yellow crime scene tape and the large crowd. They were clapping, which was odd seeing as this was a murder investigation. She dropped her bag as an officer lifted the tape for her. She saw Grissom, wearing the same polo shirt and pants he'd been wearing the first time she'd met him, taking photo's of something on the ground and talking to himself.

"Norman pushed," click, "Norman jumped," click, "Norman fell." Click.

"Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs. Roper?"

Grissom stopped in his tracks and she could see him smile even though his back was turned to her. "I don't even have to turn around, Sara Sidle."

Her stomach did that back-flip thing it did every time he said her name. They hadn't seen each other in two years but he still remembered her voice. He turned and walked towards her. He still looked as young as he had two years ago, maybe even better. "It's me." She answered "What a lame reply, think of something else!" "Still tossing simulation dummies?" she asked, placing her sunglasses on top of her head. "There are other ways to tell, you know?"

Grissom dug his hands into his pockets and smirked at her. "How? Computer simulation? No thank you, I'm a scientist. I like to see it." He hadn't stopped grinning since he'd seen her. "Newton dropped the apple, I drop dummies." He let out a breath of laughter and she flashed her fabulous gap-tooth smile at him.

"You're old school." She smirked.

"Exactly, and this guy was pushed."

They were silent for a while and Sara broke it "How's the girl?"

Grissom's face dropped "She's still in surgery she's not doing very well."

Sara sighed "That's too bad."

"God Sara, I have so many unanswered why's."

"There's only one why that matters now, why did Warrick Brown leave that crime scene?"

Once Sara had helped Grissom take photos and collect other evidence, they walked to his car and he drove them to his townhouse. He opened the door and carried her bag for her. "Welcome to my…I mean our home for the next few days." It felt strange to both of them to call it 'their' home instead of Grissom's, but also very nice at the same time. Grissom turned to Sara and smiled. "I'm glad you decided to come."

"So am I, it's just a shame it had to be under these circumstances. I've missed you Griss." Sara said quietly.

Grissom cleared his throat and turned to the living room. "I'll show you the spare room, I've made it up for you." He beckoned for her to follow him and she did so. Her room was reasonably large with a double bed and all the necessities. "The bathroom's down the hall there," he pointed to a door on the left of the hallway. "And if you need me, my bedroom's opposite the bathroom. Self catering kitchen and the rest of the house is open to you as well." He placed her bag on the bed and turned to her. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded and followed him into the kitchen. He pulled out some ingredients and began making something.

"You can cook? I didn't think men could cook!" Sara grinned.

"What? So now cooking's sexist? Alcohol is one thing but cooking?" he smiled warmly and remembered that night at the bar and what it had led to. His smile quickly vanished and he cleared his throat again. Sara had noticed that he did that when he was nervous.

"What's wrong?" she asked him. Before he could answer, Sara's cell phone let out a shrill ring, startling both of them. "Sidle. No. Well there should be some in the fridge. I made some before I left. Carrie, calm down, there's some in the cupboard, just follow the directions on the container. Ok. Tell William I love him and I'll be back soon. Ok. Thanks again. Bye." She closed her phone and realised she'd had the whole conversation with Grissom present. He had stiffened over the kitchen counter, but shrugged it off quickly and turned to her, handing her a drink.

"Boyfriend?" he asked her in a fake casual voice.

She ignored the question and took a sip of the drink, which happened to be wine. "What's for dinner then Chef Grissom?".

He smiled but noticed her avoidance of the question. Maybe this William was more than just her boyfriend. What if she was married with kids? The thought saddened him even though it shouldn't have. They hadn't even had a proper relationship. It had been a one night stand, as much as he didn't like to think of it as one, that's what it had been. He shouldn't be feeling sorry for himself, he should be happy that Sara had managed to move on.

"We're having pasta with broccoli and tuna mayonnaise. Don't make that face," Sara had screwed her face up into a look of disgust "it's very nice. Now come here and make the tuna mayo."

I might add that I wrote the actual CSI scene from the top of my head, yeah, I am that obsessed I have actually memorised every major GSR scene since season 1. That doesn't mean I'm sad, does it?