A/N: To follow.

Spoilers for episode 7x11, Leaving Las Vegas.

I wanted to call Sara the minute I landed in Massachusetts. I turned my phone on as soon as the flight attendant told us we could, but I had no missed calls or voice messages. My heart sunk. Our parting had played in my mind since I left, and as much as I could wish that I had said and done something different, it didn't change anything. She could try to hide it, but I could see the soft disappointment in Sara's eyes, the strength she was trying to project, to uphold.

I wanted to call her on my way to the hotel, but after staring at her number the entire ride, I couldn't do it. Something was holding me back. I found myself growing frustrated and angry – at myself. All I wanted was to hear her voice – after I had left her.

I was a fool.

Finally, after checking into my hotel room and getting my things mostly unpacked, I picked up my cell again. It was nine a.m. local time, which meant that in Las Vegas, Sara was just getting off shift and getting home. I dialed her number, and was relieved when she answered.

"I made it," I said as an introduction.

"I'm glad."

I paused. She didn't sound angry, necessarily, but there was a lack of warmth to her voice that made my stomach feel unsettled.

"Sara, I… I want to apologize," I began. "This happened so fast…"

"You should have told me sooner," she interrupted.

"I know," I said softly.

"Five days was not much head's up. I barely knew before the lab did. We hardly had time to talk about it… I… I don't even know why you wanted to go."

"I know."

She paused, and when she spoke again, I could tell she was on the verge of tears.

"We didn't even really get to say goodbye."

Suddenly, every fiber of my being suddenly wished that I was back in Las Vegas again, just so I could hold her, comfort her. Then again, if I were in Vegas, she wouldn't need comforting.

"I know, Sara," I repeated. "And I'm so sorry. You deserve so much better than that. I… handled it all wrong. I messed up. Will you forgive me?"

I heard her take a deep, wavering breath. My heart pounded.

"I'll try," she breathed. "I just… can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Is it me?"

"You?" I said in disbelief, realizing the implications of her question. "H-honey… no. No. Of course not. No."

"If it is, please just tell me," she went on, almost pleading. "I'll… I'll understand. Smothering – remember?"

"Sara," I said firmly. "It's not you. I promise. You are the one thing in my life I know is right."

I could almost see her nodding.

"Okay."

"I'd been thinking about doing this for a while, honey," I admitted. "But I always found one reason or another to stay… the biggest one always being you. But eventually… I just couldn't take it any more. I need a breather."

"Okay."

I sighed in relief, hoping she could gage my genuine honesty through the phone, hoping the issue was at rest.

"How's Hank?" I asked, staring out the window of my hotel room, trying to visualize them on my couch together. The image, while making me feel heartbreakingly homesick, also offered comfort.

"He misses you," she said. "He's trying to get used to his new digs."

"New digs?"

She gave a short laugh.

"Sorry. New place of residence."

"I know what digs are," I said impatiently. "Sara… where are you?"

"My apartment."

I tore my gaze away from the window, my visualization broken. I hadn't even thought that she might not stay at my townhouse while I was away. She hadn't been to her apartment once since she'd moved in with me. And something about the idea of her and Hank, alone in her apartment, made me feel suddenly, inexplicably sad.

"Y-you're at your place?"

"It's too quiet at yours – ours," she said softly, as an explanation.

I pressed my eyes closed.

"I'm sorry, Sara," I apologized again. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," she said softly. "How's Massachusetts?"

"Cold," I answered. "Snowy. Gray. How's Vegas since I left it?"

"Warm," she replied. "Glitzy. Bright. The same."

I chuckled.

"You should get some sleep," I told her. "Can I call you before work?"

"Of course," she said.

"Okay," I said softly. "I love you, Sara."

"I love you, too."

I hung up, smiling as I showered and prepared for the first day of class, unaware that over 2,000 miles away, in warm, glitzy, bright Las Vegas, Sara – my Sara – was opening a package with trembling hands.

A pregnancy test.

A/N: Okay, don't throw tin cans at me. I know this has been done before, and done very well. But I always liked the idea of Sara dealing with something when Grissom was gone. This season threw a lot at them, it's not too much to imagine one more. But this will stay canon, I promise.