He was called to a 419, just out in Henderson. It was nearing end of shift and Grissom was way past tired. It had been a long day, a stripper convention, complete with their entailing businessmen were in town. Three dead pros, two dead CEO's and a dead gorilla. The man in the gorilla mask at least had the good sense not to hide the gun. It was an interesting case, but closed none the less. Apparently the waitress just really hated gorillas. At least, Grissom thought, he was a cheating husband. A small internal head chuckle at the weirdness of fate, how a wife could find her husband, complete with costume in a city as big as Vegas, still eluded him. These were his thoughts as Grissom entered the small classroom of the local college. It was a plain room; an attached closet and something that resembled an office were the only rooms adjoining it. The dead body was sprawled out on the desks, three to be precise, and the blood had been pooling for quite some time.

"Male, mid to late teens, bullet to the back of the head. Dead on impact. DOA... I assume you're Grissom?"

Gil was forced out of his dreamy state as he looked to the unfamiliar Coroner.

"Gil Grissom, CSI Graveyard Supervisor" Grissom said as he introduced himself, and both men held their hands, complete with latex gloves in a sign of greeting without compromising the evidence.

"Blake Reed, I'm new to Swing, but out here in Henderson, it's only me. I'll send the paperwork and the body to your people; I got a few burials to get to."

At Grissom's inquisitive stare the man elaborated, "Head Coroner, Burial Director, and Funeral Director. In small towns we combine jobs. Less work, more pay."

Grissom nodded sympathetically, and went to run through the crime scene. The Coroner ducked out after securing the body to a gurney, and rolling his way out of the evidence.

Grissom was bent over an interesting specimen of beetle, when he heard the soft footfalls that heralded a visitor.

"Shows over, people. Move on to the next body." Grissom said distractedly without glancing up at the new arrival.

Not even for an old friend?" came the soft reply from the doorway.

Grissom recognized the voice in an instant and thought about their first conversation in Vegas.

"I don't even have to turn around. Sara Sidle."

That's me." Came the soft retort. But it wasn't full of the joy that touched it the first time.

Grissom turned on the spot and glanced at the figure in the doorway. She was there, business suit skirt, and all. Hair tied back and curly, pearls roped off her neck.

"Seems you can't out run death."



Grissom just nodded and uttered a small "Indeed" as he continued to study her. He had lost track of her during her disappearance. Her things were gone by the time he got home, the dog having been fed and walked. She thought of everything, except the hole she left in his being. She had gone, up and left him emotionally drained.

He felt older than he ever had looking at the sparkling beauty poised beside him.

"I assume you work here?" Grissom asked in a voice he tried to keep level and unimposing.

"Have for a while, I teach Night School Forensics."

"You always were the star pupil."

They shared a brief sad smile, and he got up to greet her. He missed her intensely, missed the brief smiles, the small things around the house she'd do that he'd never think of. Who thinks of fabric softener? Or dryer sheets in the drawers to make everything smell clean? Un-Alphabetizing the movie collection in favour of genres instead. He'd never think of these things, and yet he missed the simple elegance she created in their home.

"I'm glad you're safe." He finally said after reluctantly letting her go. They shared a brief non-awkward professional handshake. He pulled her close and patted her back slightly. It was a slightly weird embrace, but an embrace none the less. She wouldn't let him pull her into a hug. She held on to the large briefcase in front of her in a vice grip. Nothing as intimate as a hug. He smelled her hair, and she pretended ignored it. She ignored a lot of things nowadays.

"... and happy." He added quietly, looking into her brown eyes to see anything resembling happiness.

She had a large briefcase out in front of her. He noticed the slight plumpness of her fingers, and a slight roundness of her face. He wondered what was under that briefcase.

"I should get back to the scene, but..." Grissom floundered as he made weird hand gestures going between Sara and himself.

"Death waits for no man, Gilbert." Sara replied rather cryptically.

"Or woman, apparently. Lunch later?" Grissom inquired as he looked at her with his sparkling blue eyes, a lost boy with hope.

"Office is down the hall, can't exactly miss it."

"Big sign says Sidle?"

Something like that."

They shared another brief smile, and she walked off. The policeman returned, guarding the scene, and Grissom returned to his work.



A few hours later, when the evidence was turned in, and Grissom had all but had it, he marched the two doors from his scene to her office. For once in a very long while, he could wait for the puzzle to be completed. He could wait for someone else to run the skin tags, go to autopsy, and collect shoe prints. He sent Greg, and Warrick to finish the work. He didn't even feel guilty. Chalk it up to a training exercise.

He met her office door with a standstill, willing it to open. He breathed a calming breath, and turned the handle sharply. He was greeted by a small room, one wide window, butterfly specimens, and a large desk. And of course a woman behind that desk.

"I see you've found me."

"Indeed I have, shall we go?"

Sara closed her eyes, made a slightly wincing face, and got up to face the music.

Grissom stood there entirely dumbfounded.

"I... uh... huh." Gil said as he stood feet planted firmly on the ground, and yet he felt like he was floating. Floating somewhere good he hoped.

"Couldn't... I couldn't... I wanted it to be safe. No way Vegas will give me that."

He took in her large stomach, hand pressed gently against her back, and wincing expression.

"And you felt the best way to remedy that would be to move and tell no one?" Grissom replied smoothly and without malice. Just a hint of inquisitiveness at the end.

Just a line of questioning from one friend to another. Kind of like analysing bug behaviour he thought.

"At the time... Yeah actually. We never talked about this..." she said gesturing towards her belly.

"Well... we will now."

She smiled, brief and warm. It lighted his soul.

"I'm... I'm not sorry I left the way I did. Although I probably should have rethought the office smooch." Sara said smirking, and pressing her lips together slightly. Their little signal to each other.

Lunch?" Grissom said, as he still marvelled at the thought of a child.

"Its 6:30 Gris."

Well... More like dinner then huh."