You Never Know When Chapter 6, a csi fanfic

Note: I noticed two things. 1: People want more Grissom in on the relationship, which is understandable. I will say I haven't put him in as much as I should have. So, this chapter is going to center more around Grissom, and I added some much needed fluff at the end of the chapter. 2: People are bummed about the team thinking that Hank is the baby daddy. Again, understandable. That is going to change, too. But, only one person will find out at a time (over a long period of time). I hope you all continue to read this, because I sure love writing it.

Just a heads up: School is starting again in a few weeks, so I'm going to do my best to update before and after then. Yay for ninth grade…Not.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all mistakes are mine. Some lines are barrowed from/inspired by scenes from the episodes 'Forever', 'Play with Fire' and 'Inside the Box'

Chapter 6:

The crime scene was a mess. Broken glass, bullet casings, witnesses scattered all over the place, police cars with bullet holes in them…

And that was only upstairs.

Downstairs had blown out deposit boxes, with the contents scattered on the floor. While the others had left hours ago-while there was still day light-Nick and Sara remained. Nick was working on finding out where the bullets that were in the police cars (and Lockwood) came from, while Sara was downstairs, sorting evidence and fitting the safety deposit boxes back into their original slots. She had finally finished when Catherine and Grissom returned.

"Wow," Catherine said as they approached, "almost looks good as new. Kind of."

"This was the epitome of precession," Sara said, her voice obviously tired.

"The outer rim of boxes sustained the most damage. The intent, was not to blow out the twenty-three surrounding boxes, but to preserve the sanctity of the center box, box 729, it's history, it's the only thing that's gone."

"That's the box they were after," Catherine agreed.

"And we still don't know what was inside." Grissom spoke up.

"It must be pretty important," Sara yawned, "or else they wouldn't have tried so hard to get it."

They both stared at her for a moment. "Why don't you take a break?" Catherine suggested.

"Go home and get some rest, Sara. You've been here all day." Grissom said.

"No, I'm fine-" she fought another yawn, "really."

"It's eleven p.m.," Grissom noted, looking at his watch, "you can come back at eight."

Sara sighed, knowing that was the best offer she'd get. "Fine." She huffed.

"No earlier than eight." Grissom warned over his shoulder.

"I know, I know." Sara said as she walked up the stairs.

"Wow," Catherine giggled once Sara was out of ear shot, "you're acting worse than you did when I was pregnant."

"Well, you weren't having twins."

The moment he's said it he realized he'd slipped up. He was aware that Catherine already knew about the twins, but she didn't know that he knew. "How'd you know she was having twins?" She asked, facing him.

He paused before answering. "She told me the other day… Said she might have to go on a maternity leave a little earlier than she first expected."

"I know she hates that." She joked, returning her gaze to the safety deposit boxes.

That was a close one.

He really needed to be more careful with his words. He suddenly realized that they wouldn't be able to keep their relationship a secret as long as they'd hoped.

Sara drive home was a blur. She didn't realize how tired she was until she opened her apartment door. She dropped her purse, not caring where it landed, all she could think about was crawling into bed. Once she made it to her bedroom, she removed her jeans and slid under the covers. She was asleep within seconds.

She woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. Upon opening her eyes, she noticed that the sun was up again. "Hello?" She answered groggily.

"Hi, Sara, it's Grissom."

"Hi," she replied, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. He sounded oddly relieved. "Is everything alright?" She asked.

"I just called to make sure everything was okay with you. I told you that you could come back at eight, and it's almost nine-thirty."

"What?" She shrieked, looking at her alarm clock. She through the blanket off of her, and nearly ran into the bathroom. "Thanks for calling, Griss, but I need to get ready. See you when I get there!" She hung up before he had a chance to reply.

"Uhg," Catherine sighed, twirling in her chair, "what is up with this bank manager? We've been waiting forever." She turned and looked at Grissom, who seemed as though he hadn't paid her statement any attention.

"Hey!" She said, spooking him. Did he not hear me? Or is he not listening? "How long have we known each other?" She tried.

"In days, months, or years?" He said, pursing his lips.

"I'm being serious." She said, her tone darkening. He squinted his eyes and moved his head a little closer.

"Can you hear me?" She asked, her anger rising.

Before he could answer, the bank manager finally came in. Grissom knew exactly what was happening to him, but he hoped that their was some chance he was wrong. He needed to see a doctor. Soon.

"I wish you'd come to me sooner." Doc. Robbins sighed, backing away from Grissom.

"The contusion's pretty far along. Why'd you wait?"

"I…hoped it would go away." Grissom answered.

"Doesn't your mother have this condition?"

"Yeah. It's hereditary." He watched Robbins give him a slightly baffled look. "I know, I wasn't rational."

"Look Gil," Robbins said, his voice low, "I'm not gonna preach to you, you came to me. But, doctor to doctor, there's a chance that the bone deposits have spread into the inner ear, in which case, your hearing loss will eventually be permanent."

He allowed the news to sink in a little before continuing, "if I were you, I'd schedule surgery as soon as possible."

In that moment, something hit Grissom like a speeding truck. "Thanks, Al," He said, rising from his chair and exiting the morgue. His hearing condition was hereditary, which meant that there was a fifty percent chance that one of-or possibly both-his unborn children could develop it as well.

He needed to talk with Sara.

"The eyelash Warrick found in the black grease paint, I extracted the DNA, ran it, and CODIS gave me a, uh…" He shook his now empty food cup upside-down, "Mongolian beef."

"I'm sorry," Sara asked, chewing her food, "what does that mean?"

"It means he got nothing." Warrick said as his food slipped out of his chopsticks.

"Here," Greg said, handing him a simpler pair of chopsticks, "try these big guy. Training wheels."

"Thanks."

"Hey guys," Nick butted in, his mouth full of food, "guys, lets focus on the robbery."

"Grissom? What do you think?" Catherine asked.

"I think we're giving these guys to much credit." Grissom admitted, staring at the fortune cookie that he held in in hand, "they're experts at robbing banks, not experts at concealing evidence."

"Well, unless the answer is in that fortune cookie, what's the plan?" Catherine asked.

"You ever wonder how the fortune gets inside the cookie?" Grissom asked. He knew, and he was sure one of them did. But would they understand what he was getting at?

"I know!" Nick blurted out, his mouth still full of food.

"Of course you do." Sara teased.

Nick wiped his mouth before continuing. "The cookie comes out of the pres like a tortilla, then some lady puts the fortune in the center of the dough, folds the dough around a piece of medal, then folds it again."

Grissom grinned, "that's the answer."

As he rose and left, he left a room full of confused faces. When he returned, only Catherine remained.

"I got a print."

He thought it was over. Hell, Catherine did too. The print gave them a name, a picture, and evidence that linked him to the crime. But, when they went to Robert Rubio's house, all they found was safety deposit box 729, a rainbow colored thread and a drop of blood inside it. A few hours later, they got a call out to the desert.

"I think this is the origin of the word: Termination." Brass admitted, staring down at the three dead bodies. "There's the corporate way, and the way of the gun."

"High powered rifle, close range, visible gun powder." Grissom noted, pointing to the bullet wound in one of the victim's chest. "This guy got it in the chest, too." He said, pointing to another victim. "And this one took it in the back." He pointed to the last body.

After checking the victims clothes, they discovered that each victim was carrying a gun, but none had a chance to fire. "So they weren't tied up, and are still armed." Catherine noted. Why didn't they fire back?

"Well they didn't fly here, where's their car?" Grissom asked, looking around the dry landscape.

"Well it's not a dump-job," Catherine assured, "killer drove them here, killed them and then drove away."

"They knew their attacker." Brass added.

As Catherine crouched down to get a better look at the body, something in the distance caught Grissom's eye. It was something caught in a nearby dead bush. The wind was blowing it through some of the empty branches. Grissom hurried over, not wanting it to blow away in the wind. As he got closer, he noticed that it was a rainbow colored scarf.

"Where's he going?" Brass asked.

"Lets just hope he stops," Catherine said, rising to follow him.

Using his tweezers, he grabbed the scarf. Catherine used her gloved hands to hold onto it.

"Familiar?" Grissom asked, nodding his head towards the scarf.

"Blood stained, rainbow colored thread, same that was in the safety deposit box." Catherine answered. "Those guys are definitely the bank robbers."

"Where's the forth guy?" Brass asked, a hint of anger in his voice.

"The guys who's rapidly becoming a mass-murderer." Grissom replied.

"Rob Rubio." Brass added.

The case had just taken a turn. They'd discovered what the stain in the scarf was: scissors. A long pair of scissors with RAMPART etched in the side of them. Catherine had tried calling Sam Braun, the owner of the Rampart and a good friend of hers, but after three tries and no answers, she was infuriated.

"He's not returning any of my phone calls," she growled, slipping her arms into the sleeves or her brown leather jacket, "I need to confront this 'Sam Braun' business once and for all. I'll drive."

"I'm not going with you," he said reluctantly.

"What do you mean?" She asked, closing her locker.

A moment of silence passed between them. "I'm scheduled for surgery at Desert Palm." He admitted.

She stared at him for a long moment before finally breathing out, "Surgery?"

She walked over to him, just a few inches from him. "You're hearing?" She whispered.

He nodded, "yep."

She paused again, looking down at her feet, then up at him again. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," he said, chipper "it has to be done."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing, I'm fine." He turned on his heels. "Take care of the case," he said over his shoulder.

Baffled, she called out to him. "That's it?"

"That's it." He clarified. "Good luck."

Grissom was almost to his car when a familiar face caught his eye. It was Sara. Now's my chance.

"Hey, Sara?" He called, walking over to her.

"Yeah," she said, shutting her car door.

He looked around, making sure no one was to close. "There's something you need to know."

Her heart sank to her stomach. The tone in his voice told her whatever he was about to tell her wasn't good. He took a deep breath. "I'm…losing my hearing," he started. She gasped, a horrified look crossing her face. Her hands covered her gaping mouth.

"But," he quickly continued, "I'm going in for surgery at Desert Palm tonight to get it fixed.

She stared at him for a long moment. His heart pounded in his chest. Oh, no, she's mad at me.

Finally she spoke again. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked in the most pitiful voice he'd ever heard her say.

"I just scheduled it today," he answered, knowing that wasn't what she was truly asking.

"No," she shook her head and looked down at her feet, hiding her tears, "why didn't you tell me you were losing your hearing?"

"Because-" he paused, not entirely sure what to say. "Because I hoped it would go away. I didn't tell anyone, Sara. I was afraid-" he took another deep breath, lowing his voice, "I was afraid that it might effect what we have, and that I might have passed it on to the twins, and you that would be mad at me for not telling you sooner. I know I should have told you sooner, I honestly meant to. I was just…I'm sorry Sara."

When she looked back up at him, it broke his heart. A mixed look a hurt, sorrow, and even a little anger stared back at him. He prepared for her to yell and scream at him, maybe even hit him, but it didn't happen. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest. "I understand," was all she said.

And she did. She understood that Grissom-even thought he would never admit it-was afraid that people would see him differently if they knew about his hearing problem. Take pity on him, even. She had her own secrets, so she knew how he must have felt.

But what made her just a little bit angry was that he didn't tell her. Did he not trust her enough? She knew that Grissom would be there whenever she needed him, did he not know that she would do the same? It hurt her to think that he might not trust her. What if-

Now isn't the time to talk about it, she decided.

"Don't be sorry." She whispered.

He knew that they were hidden by the cars, so no one could see them. He planted a kiss into her hair. "I'll drive you there," she said, looking back up at him. He knew better than to argue, and handed her the keys.

Sara pulled up to the front of the hospital. She looked over at Grissom, a sad look on her face. "I'll be fine, Sara." He said, kissing her on the cheek. He wiped the single tear that slid down her cheek. "Give me a key to you're house." She suddenly said.

"What?" He asked, baffled.

"I want to make it ready for when you come home." She assured him.

"Sara, you don't have to do that." He said. He wasn't sure of how clean he'd left his place…

"I want to."

Letting out a sigh of defeat, he reached into his back pocket and handed her his keys. For the first time since he'd talked to her in the parking lot, she smiled.

"I'll be waiting for you when you wake up." She said just before he got out of the car.

Grissom sat alone in his little hospital room. The nurse had just left, telling him that they were preparing his surgery room for him. He couldn't stop thinking about Sara. She was invading his personal space; his 'cave' as Catherine had once called it, but he knew she was only trying to help. He understood that, but, he'd been so used to being alone that he wasn't sure he was ready for something like this.

But, even more than that, he wanted so bad to be with her. He knew she was worried about him, and he hated to see her suffer in any way. I should have told her sooner, he thought, that way we could have prepared for something like this. He was so distracted that he didn't even see Catherine walk up to his room.

"Hey," she greeted, leaning on the wall. He jumped.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his cheeks flushing a bright red. All his had on were his boxers and a hospital gown. He wasn't exactly dressed to entertain guests.

"Just wanted to see you," she laughed, "I didn't want you to go in without…wishing you good luck."

The nurse returned to the room, rolling a wheel chair. He stood and walked over to Catherine. "Thank you," he breathed, "for being here." Her eyes were teary as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked over at the nurse and waved her off. "I don't need that," he said, pointing to the wheel chair. Catherine watched him walk down the hall, and wave at her one last time before turning the corner.

Sara arrived at Grissom's house less than thirty minutes after she dropped him off at the hospital. She knew that he was probably very uncomfortable with her being in his house. Without him there, at least. But she wanted it to be perfect for when he came home. She paused before entering. Is this crossing the line? She though, no, or else he wouldn't have given me the key. With that thought fresh in her mind, she turned the key and entered.

It was very clean, as she'd expected. But there were some things she could touch up. Her investigator instincts kicked in, and she began to work.

The first thing she did was dust. Everything. She dusted the tables, his desk, his (few) picture frames, everything that could have possibly have dust on it. Next, she swept and vacuumed all the floors. She touch up things in every room of the house until it felt almost perfect.

Almost.

She remembered him commenting on a few candles she had in her apartment. Instead of driving all the way back to her apartment to get them, she went to the store she got them from and bought some for him. She set them in different parts of his house so she could light them once he came home.

She pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. She'd dropped him off at the hospital two hours ago. She put her hand on her growing abdomen.

"Daddy is in surgery by now." She whispered.

Two hours later…

Sara sat in the waiting room at the hospital. Once she felt that everything was perfect, she'd left Grissom's house. She'd been sitting in the waiting room for roughly two hours. She walked up to the front desk, and informed the woman working it who she was waiting for, and who she was.

"He's still in surgery, honey." She said, "but it shouldn't be long before he's out. I think you'll be able to see him in about another two hours."

Sighing, she returned to her seat. She hated hospitals. They brought back painful memories. But it was for Grissom, and if she had to she'd wait in that hospital forever.

But not without getting something to eat, she thought as her stomach let out a loud growl.

She drove to a nearby convenient store and grabbed a candy bar, a few bags of chips and a bottle of water. She's only managed to kill about thirty minutes. She ate her food in the car, and returned to her seat in the waiting room.

She read magazine after magazine until there were none left. She'd been reading them for so long that her eyes burned. She wasn't even aware that she'd closed them felt the nurse shake her awake.

"Ma'am, your boyfriend is out of surgery. He's asking for you."

She had told him she would be waiting for him, but he didn't think she would sit in the waiting room for the entire procedure. So when he asked the nurse if anyone was waiting for him, he didn't expect her to say, "yes, a young woman has been waiting in the lobby for quite some time. A Sara…something. Would you like me to get her for you?"

At first, he wasn't sure if he wanted anyone visiting him at the moment. He'd only woken up ten minutes ago. But when the nurse told him that Sara had been waiting for close to five hours, he couldn't help but feel guilty. "Yes," he said after a moment, "I'd like to see her."

He spotted her probably before she spotted him. She looks tired, he noted When she finally saw him, he noticed a nervous look on her face. Even though his ears covered in gauze, he heard her say her thanks to the nurse, and she pulled her chair beside him. He reached over and took her hand in his.

"Hi," she smiled shyly as the nurse shut the door.

"Hi," he smiled back, his voice raspy.

"Is this going to become a regular thing?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked, taken aback.

"Us visiting each other in the hospital at two in the morning." She giggled, knowing that she confused him.

"Oh. I hope not." He grinned.

There was a pause before either of them spoke again. "When are they letting you out?" She asked, rubbing her thumb over his hand. Something he'd done to her many times before.

"Tomorrow," he sighed.

"When can you come back to work?"

"Not for at least a week." he grumbled.

"Aw," Sara mock-cried, not even trying to hide her laughter, "poor baby."

He gave her a look, and she continued to laugh. He loved seeing her smile.

"I'll miss you," she said when she finally stopped laughing.

"I'll miss you, too."

Another few moments of silence passed between them. "Sara," Grissom finally said, "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about this sooner. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Yeah, you did." Sara broke eye contact with him and let go of his hand. "Do you remember what you told me a few weeks ago, after that case with the two dead teens; when the girl's mother watched her daughter and her boyfriend die?"

"Yes," he said.

"Sara," Grissom interrupted, knowing where she was going. "Don't think, for a single second, that you'll be anything like that woman. You'll be a great mother." He smiled at her, hoping it would help.

It didn't.

"But what if I'm not?" Sara cried, her voice pitiful, "what if I can't handle it?"

"You have me, Sara." He said, sliding next to her, holding her close, "I'll do everything in my power to make sure that that baby, and it's mother, are happy. We'll get through anything and everything that happens to us." He waited for her to look him in the eye before continuing.

"No matter what happens, Sara," he said, "I will always be right here, ready to help you."

"Well.." Sara said shyly, "I feel the same way."

He raised an eye brow.

"If anything happens to your hearing," she continued, "or if it does get passed on to the twins, I'll help you through it, just like you said you'd do for me." She took his hand again, "you need to trust me, Grissom."

"I do trust you, Sara." He assured her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm just not used to sharing so much of my life with someone. I've been alone for so long…I guess I just forgot."

Sara was taken aback. She had expected an apology, but nothing like this. She knew he was a private person; she was too, but she didn't know he was this private. Her emotions were getting the better of her, and a few tears slid down her cheeks.

"Damn it," she forced out a laugh, wiping her tears. "Being pregnant is so freaking emotional!"

"But," Grissom said, resting his hand on her stomach, "it'll be worth it."

"I know," she said. She looked down at where his hand rested, and laid hers on top of it. "What do you want them to be?" She asked quietly.

"What?"

"Do you want boys, girls, or one of each?"

"It's not like you can control it." He said.

"I know that," she said, flicking his arm, "I just want to know."

He was quiet for a long moment. He remembered when Catherine had had Lindsey, and how much fun he had with her. He didn't know what it was like to have boys, so he felt as though he couldn't choose.

"All I want," he finally said, "is for them to healthy. Nothing else really matters."

"Good answer," she grinned form ear to ear.

They stayed like that and talked for what felt like forever, but was only an hour and a half. It was getting close to four in the morning, and both of them were struggling to stay awake.

"I wish I didn't have to leave." She gave him a sad smile.

"You don't have to," Grissom said, squeezing her hand again.

"Grissom, I haven't slept since yesterday night, I'm-" as if on cue, she yawned, "I'm exhausted."

"I better write this down," Grissom joked, "Sara Sidle admits she's tired."

"Shut up," she laughed, pinching his arm.

"Make me," he smiled mischievously, knowing what she'd do.

"Fine." She said, rising from her chair and kissing him hard on the lips. Their kiss lasted until they both needed air.

"I'll come see you in the morning." She breathed.

"I look forward to it."

Sara slept better than she thought she would. She got home at about four in the morning and went straight to bed. She got up at nine, showered, ate, and drove to the hospital. I sure hope he's awake, she thought as she entered the building. She walked up to his room and found his door shut. She, out of habit, knocked.

"Come in," came Grissom's voice.

"Hi," she smiled as she walked in, the door clicking shut behind her. He was eating food that one of the nurses had brought him. By the look on his face, she guessed that it wasn't very good.

"I take it it's not very good." She made a skewed face and pointed at his food, scooting her chair next to his bed.

"Horrible," he conformed, "but it's all I have, so it'll do."

She remembered all the times she had been forced to eat hospital food. Sometimes it wasn't that bad, but more than often she'd rather go hungry than eat it. She remembered when she had to eat it just last week. She shivered at the thought. Apparently they hadn't known she was a vegetarian…

"What time are they letting you out?" She asked, wanting the thought of the horrible food out of her mind.

"Around noon. They want to check a few things and take the bandages off." He pointed to one of his ears.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, remembering how bad her hand used to hurt.

"No." He lied.

She gave him a look, raising her brow. "A little," he tried. She crossed her arms over her chest, not buying it.

"Fine. They're throbbing. Happy?"

"I just needed an excuse to do this," she said as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Did that help?"

"Why don't you try again?" He joked, propping himself up to where he was fully sitting up.

Sara; who was now at a much lower level, laughed. She stood, leaned forward and kissed him again, this time directly on the lips. He pulled her in closer, so close that she was nearly in his lap, twirling one of his fingers in her hair. She smiled widely against his lips. They were making out like love-struck teenagers, she thought.

"Griss-" she pulled away slightly, "the…door-"

"Don't worry-" he kissed her again, "the nurse…won't be back…for at least an hour." He breathed between kisses.

"But-" she pulled away, this time a little further, "what if they come back?"

"They'll knock," was all he said before pulling her in again.

Sara giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck; careful not to touch his ears. She couldn't believe how childish they were being! She felt one of his hands tug at the hem of her jacket, and she quickly removed it, throwing on he chair.

Just as the thought of locking the door came into her mind, they heard the gasp of an all-to-familiar voice, causing them both to jump back, and even gasp themselves.

"What in the Hell is going on?"

I know, I'm evil! But what would a story be without cliffhangers? I wanted to get this up quickly, because I'm going on vacation again. This time only for a few days, though, not an entire week. Sorry for the evil cliffhanger, please be nice in the reviews!

TBC!