Dear Readers, I am hoping to bring you some good work this weekend. I know, we are all saddened by the final day of the CSI shooting - all ships included- but it will be ok. We will all stay in the fandom and one day, we will be greeted by new fans. Let's keep the faith. CSI is over, but not really. They will issue a big box set soon and we will have a new collection of extras and bloopers. It will be OK. A lot of us will not stop writing, making videos, and other things. I love you, and the pain has been felt in Mokpo, South Korea. I wish I was in Central Time ( My old time) to actually BE with you guys, but we are still together. We can always cosplay, and meet up, and other things. Don't worry.

~8~

I'm not really a fan of therapy, I am not saying it is bad; it's just not for me. I have seen it work wonders for a lot of people. We had a few department therapists when I was a CSI, but I thought that having a stranger dive into the deepest realms of your mind was a violation. It was Gil who convinced me to go to a few sessions, and the only reason I actually went was to prove to him that I was fine so that we could bring Emily home.

"And how did you feel when you woke up this morning?" the therapist, a woman, asked me.

It had been a week since my attack; a week without Emily. Gil had stayed home from work and tried to pamper me in any way he could. We went for a couple's foot massage, had romantic dinners, and had talked long into the night. He never mentioned my attack nor did I.

I shrugged. "I felt nothing," I said. "Just like I have every day. I don't want to talk about anything or think about it. I just want to pretend nothing happened; what good can come of me talking about it?"

My doctor wasn't a bad person, in fact she was very patient and polite. It wasn't her fault that this happened, but it also wasn't min; or was it? Was it my luck to have these unfortunate things happen to me?

I stood with my bag. "Time is up," I said. "I'm going to visit my daughter today."

~8~

I respected Gil's mother. She had a challenge raising a boy on her own while being deaf. Betty's condition caused Gil to grow up in a quiet world. I am not too sure if a mother, who has been so close to her son, ever really accepts a daughter-in-law.

"How are things going?" Betty signed to me.

Emily was sitting in a booster seat at the kitchen table. She was busy shoving cubes of cheese into her mouth. I sat down my purse and pulled a chair up close to her. My daughter is my only chance to do something right in my life and I didn't want to miss another moment.

When Emily had been born, I had barely let Gil hold her. I wasn't prepared for the wave of love and protectiveness that washed over me. It was as if at that moment, I knew that I was meant to be a mother.

"It seems to be going alright," I signed back.

Betty took my hand and gave it a pat. Gil set three mugs of tea on the table and took an empty seat beside his daughter. Emily looked to both of us and I snuck a piece of celery off of her plate.

"Mom, Sara and I are going to take Emily home with us today," Gil signed.

Something about his motions told me he didn't want Emily to come home. He hadn't told me about Bezkin at that point, but I sensed something. If I had known, I would have left my child with her grandmother.

Betty looked from Gil to me. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes," I signed quickly. "I miss her. She makes me feel whole; I need her to come home now."

~8~

Having Emily home did distract me. I found myself concentrating more on my daughter's needs rather than my own worries; Gil even seemed to relaxing more. The child's innocence and trust in her parents gave me the strength I needed. It reminded me that I had someone smaller me that needed me to hold onto my sanity.

After dinner, I started her bath and dropped her toys into it. One of these was a rubber-duck that she cherished above all other bath toys. I added bubbles to the water, tested the temperature, and went to gather Emily for her bath.

I walked into the living-room and saw a sight that warmed my heart and sent warm shivers throughout my body. Gil had taken Emily out of her chair and was holding her close to him. She was relaxing in his arms, a sign that she was worn out from her eventful day. He was swaying her gently from side to side.

"Daddy missed you," he said softly to her.

I didn't want to interrupted- being away from her was as hard for him as it had been for me. He loved his daughter and was a good father to her. He turned and saw me standing in the doorway.

"Is her bath ready?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah,," I responded, still warmed by seeing him nurture our daughter. "Will you give me a hand?"

~8~

I wanted to make love with my husband. I needed to feel him and thank him for everything. Not being able to do such a natural thing was terrible. I laid quietly beside him for a long time that night, listening to him breathing and wanting to roll over and pull him into me. That was another thing this intruder had done; he put a wedge between me and my husband physically. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Gil," I whispered turning over so I could face him. "Are you awake?"

"I'm just thinking," he replied.

I scooted closer to him and he put his arm around me. "About what?" I asked.

I felt so warm being next to him. I wanted to bury my face in his shirt and cry for our moments that had been taken from us. I didn't want to push myself, but I want to tell him how much he meant to me.

"About you," he said. "How I let you down?"

This caught me by surprise. "What… Gil, you didn't let me down."

Gil sat up and turned the beside light on. Light flooded the room and I could see that his face was worried. He looked at me with eyes that were asking forgiveness.

"Honey, what's the matter?" I asked.

"I want you to know that I didn't know that this was going to happen," he said, reaching for my hand.

I looked at him oddly. I thought he was being dramatic. It was rare that he grew so serious about something. The last time he spoke to me this way was when he talked about taking Emily to get tubes put in her ears.

"Gil, just tell me," I said. "It can't be as bad as -"

"I know who did this to you," he said abruptly.

I sat there stunned. At first, I didn't understand what he told me. How could he know? If he knew then why wasn't he calling Brass? I pulled my hand away from him and shook my head slightly.

I blinked. "What?" I asked, sure that I had misunderstood.

"I've been working with Jim to build a case against a man named Ronald Bezkin," Gil explained. "I had enough evidence to prove he was a murderer and a rapist, but somehow the evidence got thrown out. Before he went into custody he threatened me. He told me I had a pretty wife."

I stood up, my legs shaky. "Where is he now?" I asked, my voice getting higher.

Gil looked helpless. "He was released," he admitted to me lowly.

I felt myself growing angry at him. The loving feelings that I had had for him earlier were being replaced. If I couldn't trust Gil, who could I trust.

"Why are we still in this house?" I asked, pushing past him and heading to the closet to get a suitcase.

My body was starting to numb, I didn't really know what to say to him. I tore a suitcase down from the top shelf and threw it on the floor of our walk-in closet. I pulled shirts off of coat hangers, I wasn't too sure what I was grabbing.

"So you just left Emily and I alone?" I asked. "What if he hadn't stopped with me? What if…"

I didn't want to finish that sentence, I turned and continued to throw clothes into a suitcase. I felt his hand touch my arm and I slapped a hand back at him.

"I didn't know he was out," he said. "I didn't know until the next day and I had just arrived at work. I should have turned around and come straight home. If had known what he was doing to you."

"That he was violating me?!" I asked, throwing an armload of clothes at him. "That he was hitting me and saying horrible things and,.. everything!"

I tried to walk from the room, but my foot tripped over the suitcase and I tumbled to the ground. Gil took my arm and tried to help me stand, but I pulled myself from his hold. I had no idea what I was supposed to be thinking or feeling. I just felt rage.

For a moment, I think I had actually lost my mind. I don't remember even thinking about my actions, I just know that I picked shoes up off the floor and threw them at him. I don't know if they hit him and I don't know where they landed.

"You need to go!" I said to him, still trying to keep my voice down.

"I can't leave you and Em here," he said. "I'm not going to."

I brought my knees up and cradled my head. I cried, in that position, for a long time. I couldn't stay angry at him, he didn't know it was going to happen and he thought Bezken was in custody.

"Why did you wait to tell me?" I asked more calmly.

Gil took my arms again and this time I let him help me. I winced at the pain in my ribs and pelvis.

"I didn't want to scare you even more than you were," he said. "I don't want you and Emily here when… if…. I go back to work. Bezkin waited for me to leave."

I looked down at the clothes strewn all over the floor and sighed. "We need to leave," I said. "We need to take Emily and go tonight."

~8~

Well folks, I have to go to sleep. It's been a long day at the old pepper mill. Please send your love ( psst that means review).