In the living room downstairs, Sofia sat down beside Grissom, placing a coffee in front of him. The candle on the coffee table had been lit, and it cast a dim flicker over her friend's face, but it did little to penetrate the darkness of the room. The nights had become cold lately, frigid and moonless, and the hint of impending winter had sent them all searching for more blankets. Sofia had raided the linen cupboard just hours earlier, and climbed snug into bed with an extra blanket only to be woken later by the commotion outside her door. She had forced herself out of bed to find Grissom lingering there in the hallway, looking worried and listless, and upon hearing his story she had promptly escorted him downstairs.

He sat next to her now in nothing but his boxer shorts, the cotton faded and speckled with lint, not even seeming to feel the wintry chill which had rippled goose-bumps up and down his arms. The smattering of curly grey hair on his chest and legs glowed in the candlelight, but it was his eyes which stood out to her the most – his expression so helpless, tormented by a problem he felt powerless to overcome. It was this sight which tugged at Sofia's heartstrings, and firmed her resolve to wait with him.

On the armchair opposite, Warrick, too, looked concerned. He had been woken from sleep like Sofia, and now sat tiredly rubbing his eyes as he struggled to digest the problem.

"A panic attack?" he repeated, once they had told him. "Are you sure?"

He looked up at Grissom with one raised eyebrow, evidently having doubts. Sara was not one to collapse into a teary heap like some.

"I'm positive," Grissom replied. "She couldn't breathe and she was practically shaking with fear. I think it was an intrusive flashback to her assault."

He pressed his eyes into Warrick for a second, gravely emphasising the severity of what they were facing, and Warrick fell silent. He sighed, clasped his hands between his knees, but seemed unable to find comforting words. He shared a look instead with Sofia, but Sofia was also reluctant to speak, her mind plagued with doubts. On the one hand she knew it was plausible that Sara's anxiety was related to her assault – she had struggled in the aftermath of their trip to the city, and the weeks she had spent curled up like a recluse in the armchair afterward had been just one symptom of that – and yet simultaneously she felt keenly suspicious of the timing. Her mind flew back to Sara's vomiting, to the conversation they had almost held with her, and she wondered if it really could be coincidence. Nevertheless she knew she had no choice but to play along – she had to keep an open mind until Catherine could tell her for sure.

"You're … suggesting PTSD?" she clarified. "That she has some degree of trauma."

"It's possible," Grissom said, shrugging a little.

He spoke with realistic ease, as if he had long come to terms with it, or even expected it, and Sofia too, was not surprised. She had seen it coming, and not just in Sara, but in all of them. They all had their battle scars, and did their best to cope with them.

"We'll be lucky if any of us escape that," Warrick said. "It was tough enough just being stuck here, having to adjust to a new life, let alone everything that happened to her in town. Sara's tough as nails, but that'd rattle anyone. Finding your own grave, then the assault …"

"I know," Grissom said. "I just hope Catherine can help."

Sofia reached across, briefly touching his arm, even though she knew it would do little to help. She had known for a long time that Grissom's one weak point was Sara. Even when she had first joined his team as a CSI she had sensed something between them, and when the news broke of their relationship two years later, she had not been surprised. She had not minded, either. It was impossible not to feel sympathy for what Sara had endured at the hands of the miniature killer, and like everyone else in PD, she had found that what would have otherwise been a juicy piece of gossip had been blunted by their desperate search and the state they had found her in. You could not kick someone when they were down, and when she had seen Grissom's teary eyes in the hospital waiting room, she had vowed then to do what she could to protect them from the fallout.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," she soothed. "And even if she's not, we'll help. She's not alone."

She had not forgotten Sara's kindness to her when she had first suffered her head injury, and had long awaited a chance to repay the favour.

"Maybe she just needs a little support for a while," Warrick said. "You know I've read a little about PTSD in my time, when working other cases, and the literature says to let the person vent, to loan them support. Maybe if we let her talk, it might help."

Grissom seemed to deflate a little. "We talked it out a few months ago, and she assured me then that she was fine."

Sofia hesitated, feeling vaguely that she was about to pop a child's balloon, but she had to be honest.

"Well … maybe she wasn't."

She could still picture the vulnerability in Sara's eyes when she had met her afterward on the verandah. The way she had clung to Catherine had told Sofia more than she could have ever learned in an entire day of talking.

"You know what Sara's like," Warrick said, "she's a tough one – she probably sees mental illness as a sign of weakness."

"That won't help her," Sofia interjected. "If we were at home, it wouldn't matter. But out here …"

She let the thought trail, not having to state the obvious. Warrick gave a hint of a grim nod.

"Out here we're isolated," he agreed. "If we don't help her, no one will. And then she'll get worse."

A pause settled, each of them imagining the implications. It was not a pleasant thought, and Sofia wrenched her mind away before it could venture too far.

"Then … maybe we just need to be extra kind to her for a while," she said. "Do everything we can to support her."

"I agree."

Sofia looked sideways to Grissom, inviting his input, but he did not respond. His shoulders had slumped a little, his eyes staring vaguely down into his coffee. Sofia wondered if he would even be able to deal with it.

She slipped her hand back into his, squeezing.

"She'll be fine, Griss," Warrick assured. "Cath's up there with her now, and there's no one better at this kind of thing. We just need to be patient."

"I trust Catherine completely," he said, raising his eyes to gaze helplessly at him. "I just … wish I could help."

XXX

In the bedroom Sara waited, all her nerves on tenterhooks, as Catherine seemed to take an inordinately long time to respond. She could not believe that Catherine could be this silent, or choose now to do it, and she could barely control her anxiety as she risked a glance sideways. She saw Catherine staring back at her, face pale in the darkness, her mouth open slightly, and evidently caught off guard.

"I … I really need your help," Sara pressed, trying to hold her blanket closed with a steady hand. It was a thick blanket, the heavy one they had dug out of the closet a week or so ago, but its scratchy woollen fibres were uncomfortable against her skin. Her fingers shook as she gripped the edge, her forehead and chest prickling with tight beads of sweat – some from sex, but most from fear.

Pregnant, she thought, staring vacantly at the sturdy dresser a foot away. She was actually pregnant. And not just pregnant, but pregnant here …

The realisations flooded in, each one more paralysing than the last. She was pregnant … pregnant with no medical aid … pregnant to a partner who did not want children … pregnant in a world which was nothing but hostile … bearing a child who would never know the civilised world, who would have no friends …

Damn.

Her blanket sagged, her brain too stunned to focus on holding it, and it drooped to reveal her cleavage. Catherine did not seem to notice.

"Don't panic," she said, calm as ever. "Take a deep breath, watch your breathing. I'm here, okay?"

Her voice was maternal, the soothing tone she used whenever someone had hurt themselves, and Sara faintly realised that Catherine thought she was having another panic attack. Maybe she was, she thought. But she did not care. She shook her head, staring ahead at a knot on the dresser, words utterly failing her.

She had a vision of giving birth in the paddock outside, blood staining the grass, dying with pain as Grissom shunned her, his back turned.

"It's going to be fine," Catherine said.

It's not, Sara thought.

She tried to shake off the vision, but it resisted. She struggled with it as Catherine's hands continued to move, roving up and down her back in measured, calming strokes, her touch firm yet gentle. She heard her friend offer more soothing words, but it was not until she reached in and adjusted Sara's sagging blanket that her shock began to ease. Catherine's touch was so caring, so mother-like and tender, that the gesture finally brought her back.

"It's okay," Catherine repeated.

This time Sara nodded, and she absorbed another moment of comfort before she felt the urge to explain.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted.

"I know," Catherine replied.

Her voice was soft, relaxed, and yet with the admission Sara felt some of the weight leave her shoulders. Her rational brain clawed its way back, her fingers moving to re-hold the edges of her blanket, taking them from Catherine.

"Can you breathe comfortably?" Catherine asked.

Sara tried to take another deep breath, remembering that Grissom had urged her to do so.

"I think so," she replied.

"Take a minute," Catherine said, unconvinced. "Just relax. We'll talk when you're ready."

She passed several more moments being comforted, her head bowed and eyes closed, trying to block out all thought as she focused entirely on her breathing. Catherine coached her through it, urging her to keep the breaths slow and even, until a moment later when Sara felt better, and lifted her head again.

"You good?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah," Sara said, nodding.

"You sure?"

"I'm fine," Sara assured.

She felt slight stirrings of shame, but Catherine's kindness prevented them from growing any further. She simply continued to rub Sara's back, and when she was sure that Sara could handle it, finally spoke.

"All right, first thing – don't panic. There's no point having a breakdown until you know for sure, and we're not there yet. Don't step ahead of the evidence."

"I've missed a period," Sara said, her rational mind returning as she crunched the facts. "And I was vomiting yesterday. The signs are that –"

"How long's it been since you had your period?" Catherine interrupted.

Sara's mind stalled, struggling to remember. They did not keep track of time – she did not even know what month it was, or even the year, and she had no idea how many weeks had passed. It just seemed a long time, and more than it should be.

"I'm not sure," she conceded.

"Well let's assume it has been more than a month," Catherine said reasonably. "Even then there are other possible causes. Missed periods don't necessarily indicate pregnancy. It could be stress – the pressure of what you've been through– or even your diet. Like Warrick said yesterday, you're overdoing it. That much is obvious to the rest of us. You're hiking all the way to town several times a week, barely eating; you're burning far more calories than you're ingesting and you've clearly lost weight. It's not sustainable. It may just be that we need to tweak your diet a little. So don't panic until we have all the facts. Nothing's for sure."

It was perfectly logical, and Sara felt some of her anxiety flicker, now uncertain. Yes, she had lost weight. Nick had made a passing comment just the other day that he could feel her bones under his hands when he hugged her. But Sara had put the weight loss down to her newfound physical fitness, and as all her friends had gone through the same transition, she had thought little of it. But it was true that she was not eating as much as they were, and while the others loaded their plates Sara often had no appetite, and had to be prodded into eating by Grissom.

"You're probably right," she said.

She did not feel certain, but it was possible.

"There's only way to know for sure," Catherine said gently, still holding her.

"A test," Sara said, raising her eyes to meet her friend's.

Catherine nodded. "I'll go into town. Get you one from the pharmacy."

Sara said nothing; it was all too overwhelming.

"I'll take Nick and Warrick," Catherine went on. "You stay here with Sofia. Try to take it easy. If you get sick again, or if you feel start to feel anxious, go to her. I'll tell her what's happened."

Sara's mind was crammed with thoughts, not least of which that she would have to hide it from Grissom all day long, but she knew there was nothing she could do about that. She voiced instead her next thought, regarding Catherine's intended trip.

"If you ask the guys to take a special trip to town, they're going to want to know why."

"Then I'll have to tell them," Catherine said, shrugging apologetically. "I don't know there's a choice. You know the rule."

Sara did know the rule – that rule they had all made months ago that no trip to town would be made without a minimum of three people. It had been made for safety reasons, lest they should encounter anyone else en route, or if someone got hurt along the way, but the result was that none of them had much privacy. She nevertheless had to value their safety above anything else, and nodded to indicate her agreement.

"So long as you don't tell Grissom," she said. "If it comes to that, I'd prefer to tell him myself."

"Deal," Catherine said. "I'll make sure the guys keep their mouths shut."

Sara had no doubt they would – Warrick would do anything for Catherine, and Nick was loyal to Sara. She did not even care what they thought; the only reaction she had any room to think about was Grissom's.

She could only hope the test would not come back positive.

"Are you going to be okay?" Catherine asked.

Sara nodded, knowing that Catherine wanted confirmation, but she did not feel it.

"I'll be fine."

"Just hang on until I get back," Catherine said. "No matter what happens, I'll help you handle it. You're not alone, okay?"

Sara tried to nod, but a few tears came out instead. The hot droplets rolled down her cheeks.

She hated to admit it, but she felt an emotional wreck.

"You'll be fine," Catherine repeated.

And she drew Sara into a hug.

XXX

Downstairs, Grissom sat staring into his coffee. He had not drunk any of it; though the gesture from Sofia had been kind he had not yet mustered the strength to lift the mug. He stared ahead into its dark depths, watching the candlelight play on the surface, thinking only of Sara. She had been upstairs with Catherine for a while now, and the longer it dragged on the more worried he became for her state, but there was nothing more he could do. Nothing but wait.

The conversation had long ebbed into silence, only the odd word of comfort being offered by Warrick or Sofia as they waited it out with him. He felt grateful for their presence, but at the same time had never found it less fulfilling. There was only one person whose company he wanted now, and that person was ill upstairs.

He tried to contemplate it, what they would do if Sara did not recover, but the thought was painful. The truth was he had no idea what more he could say to help her, to carry her through the trauma, and the more he thought about it, the more depressed he became. He felt like he was caught in an eddy, carrying him further downward, unable to save her from the dangers of long term psychological damage.

He was still worrying about it when he heard a door click open upstairs, and footsteps emerge onto the landing. Catherine's gentle voice floated down to him.

"Just take it easy. You don't have to say anything."

Sara said nothing, but he heard an audible sniff, and his heart broke when he turned to see her emerge at the top of the stairs. She was dressed now, but she looked a wreck. Her face was tear-stained, her eyes vulnerable, and Catherine led her down the stairs with a protective arm around her shoulders.

Grissom hurriedly got to his feet, moving to meet both women at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes lingered on Sara, trying to catch her eye, but it was Catherine who spoke first.

"She doesn't want to talk about it," she said pointedly, throwing him a look doused in hints. "She just needs to take it easy for a while."

"All right," he agreed.

He tried again to catch her eye, becoming more worried by the second at her vulnerability, but Sara's attention flicked instead over to Sofia and Warrick hovering nearby. Catherine quickly peeled off to head them off, and with a tug on Sofia's sleeve and a look to Warrick, she drew them both toward the back door. They disappeared out onto the back verandah, leaving Grissom alone with Sara.

Suddenly the house was silent.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

He took her shoulder, trying to tempt her to look at him, and with a breath of courage she finally relented. She lifted her eyes to his, and as if wanting to disguise her crying, hastily swiped at a tear.

"I'm okay," she said, though her voice trembled slightly. "It was just …"

But she drifted off, unable to find adequate words.

"It's all right," he said, his hand trailing down her arm to clutch her hand. "Anxiety attacks are more common than you'd think. There's nothing to be ashamed of. So long as you're all right."

Her fingers curled into his, but there was a hesitancy which told him she was still troubled. After a moment she came clean.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, heaving a sigh. "I know we usually tell each other everything, it's just that this time it feels –"

"Overwhelming," he said. "I know."

He did not say what he was thinking, that he understood perfectly why Sara would feel more comfortable in talking to Catherine. He had seen enough of life to know that there were some things better shared with a member of the same sex, and things such as Sara's assault were one of them. He knew that while he could hold her, love her and comfort her, Catherine could offer her a depth of understanding and empathy which his gender prevented him from ever reaching. And after Catherine's experience as a stripper, and wild younger years on the strip, he knew she was ideal one to talk to her. He had known that all along.

"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to apologise, I understand. I'm just relieved you're talking to someone."

She seemed to take a second to digest this statement, but still fell short of looking reassured. There was something shaky in her eyes, something still so slightly anxious.

He racked his mind for a way to help her.

"Can she help you?" he asked.

Sara nodded. "I think so."

"Then that's all that counts. At the end of the day what matters is that you're okay. And whatever you need from me is fine."

She peered up at him, and at last her fingers tightened around his. More tears welled in her eyes, threatening to slip, and she stepped forward into his arms. He held her firm against him, her hair tickling his bare shoulder, and he kissed her cheek.

"You'll be fine, don't worry."

And though Sara did not respond, she continued to hold onto him, and he had to consider that, at least, as a good sign.

XXX

On the back verandah, Sofia barely held it together until the door closed, when she turned to her friends, in shock.

"Is that what I think it was?" she asked Catherine.

Sara had looked so distraught that any doubts she had had over the cause had been swiftly obliterated by the sight of her at the top of the stairs. She had never Sara so upset, and it only left her to draw one conclusion.

"Yeah," Catherine said quickly.

She threw an anxious look through the window, making sure they both were still distracted, before addressing Warrick.

"I need to make a trip to town," she said. "You up for it?"

"Up for what?" he asked, looking from one to the other. "What's going on?"

He looked completely at sea, and Sofia was not surprised, but they had no time.

"I'll explain later but right now I need your help," Catherine said urgently. "We only have a second. Can you come?"

"Well sure, but –"

"Then go get dressed and wake Nick. He'll have to come. Tell him I'll explain on the way, but right now I just need him to get ready and keep his mouth shut. We'll tell Grissom we're going for food."

"Food?" he queried. His eyes narrowed, deeply scared. "Cath, what's wrong? I thought it was just a panic attack."

"It's more serious than that," Catherine said darkly.

He studied her eyes a moment, alarmed, but Sofia threw an anxious glance over her shoulder. They had so little time before Grissom realised they had snuck away.

"You need to go," she said to Warrick.

He looked like he wanted to interrogate her, but short of time, he nodded, electing to trust her.

"I'll explain on the way," Catherine promised, clutching his arm.

"All right," he said.

He reluctantly left, and Catherine turned to Sofia.

"Is she all right?" Sofia asked quickly.

She hated to think how her friend had taken it, though she thought she knew the answer.

"No," Catherine replied. "She freaked out, couldn't breathe. I had to work hard to calm her down. She's terrified."

"Understandable," Sofia put in.

She could only imagine how it felt, the sheer terror.

"I'm going to get her a test, but we won't be back 'til tonight," Catherine went on. "I need you to take care of her until then. Keep her grounded, keep Grissom ignorant, and keep her calm. Can you do that?"

"I'll look after her," Sofia promised. "Don't worry."

"Thanks."

Catherine pecked her on the cheek, and a moment later returned inside. She headed straight for the stairs to go get dressed, jogging all the way up, while Sofia paused in the living room. Grissom had moved Sara onto the couch, the spare blanket now draped around her shoulders, his hand warmly clutching hers. Her face was still tear-stained, but she looked much calmer, and Sofia was just about to leave them to it just as Sara caught her eye, and a thousand questions burned from her irises.

Sofia made her way over to the coffee table, and sat down facing her.

"It's okay," she assured, a hand on her knee. "It's fine."

With Grissom sitting right there she could say none of what she wanted, and had to settle for Sara reading it in her body language. She rubbed her knee, and when the others emerged a minute later for breakfast, she rose to give her a hug, and pecked her on the cheek. Minutes later in the kitchen both Nick and Warrick gave her hugs – unsure what the problem was yet dousing her in affection just in case – and then when their bowls were clean and Catherine idly announced they were making a trip to town, the statement was so routine, and Grissom was still so absorbed in Sara, that he failed to notice the body language flying around the room.

Minutes later the three travellers left, and Sofia went to sit by Sara, and keep her sane.

XXX

Catherine sensed her companions' curiosity bubbling away long before they even left the driveway, and if anything was impressed that they even held on until they reached the road. When they turned left to head for town Warrick glanced carefully over his shoulder, then when he was sure they were out of earshot, let loose.

"All right, time's up," he said worriedly. "What the hell's going on?"

"Spill, Cath," Nick ordered. "Don't scare us like this."

He sounded petrified, but Catherine felt only the slightest speck of guilt before she answered. She knew that if they had seen Sara in the bedroom, a huddled teary mess, then they would understand. She still had trouble getting her own head around it, and she had so many mixed feelings that she barely knew where to start. Grissom's stupidity in getting her pregnant ranked high on her list, but her dominant emotion was fear – fear for Sara, fear for the idea of her giving birth out here. Her own labour with Lindsey had been agonising enough, and Sara would have no help like she had had.

"Cath," Warrick said pointedly, drawing her out of her reverie.

His fingers clutched her arm, and Catherine looked at the quiet road ahead, the miles still to go, and knew there was no point delaying any further.

"She's pregnant," she said.

They stared, agog. Catherine's footsteps crunched on the road.

"Pregnant," Warrick repeated. "You serious?"

"Serious enough," Catherine replied. "She's missed at least one period, she has no idea how long it's been. And then her sickness yesterday …"

"Morning sickness," Nick realised, catching on. "Oh, I don't believe this. And Grissom did this?"

"Who else are you suggesting? The bogeyman?"

"But are you sure?" Warrick asked. "Does she know for certain?"

"That's what we're doing now," Catherine answered. "We need to go to the drug store and get her a pregnancy test. It could be just stress, a change in metabolism or weight loss –"

"But you don't think it is," Warrick finished. "You look sure."

Catherine shrugged vaguely – she had no idea what to think. In the bedroom she had told Sara that it may be a false alarm largely just to calm her. Sara had been so rattled that she had been forced to inject some logic into the proceedings, and do whatever it took plant her feet back on the ground. But in her head she felt otherwise. Sara's vomiting yesterday had been strongly reminiscent of Catherine's own so many years ago, and though time had passed she remembered clearly how it looked – and felt.

"I think she is," Catherine confessed. "And I think she knows it too."

Nick swore.

"Tell me we didn't leave her back there without someone knowing," Warrick said worriedly. "You did tell Sofia?"

"She knows," Catherine confirmed.

"Well that's something."

But Catherine sensed Nick bristling beside her, and when she looked up she saw his jaw set, his hard eyes focused out on the desert, struggling to conquer his frustration.

"Nick?" Warrick prompted.

Nick spared him the briefest glance.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"You look like you're planning a murder."

"Yeah, well, maybe I am," he said irritably. He paused for another second before letting loose. "I mean do you realise the fix he's put her in here? Getting her knocked up, trapped out here, and there's no antenatal clinic just around the corner …"

"I'm well aware of the risks," Catherine said flatly, knowing full well what he was getting at. "Why do you think she's so terrified?"

"She needs our support, man," Warrick said. "What's done now is done."

"Don't tell me you two are condoning this," Nick said. "I mean, Cath, you've given birth, you know what we're talking about here. It's not just the pregnancy, but the labour, pushing it out – that's putting her life on the line right there. None of us are trained midwives, we don't have a clue what to do. One problem, one tear, and if she starts bleeding it's goodnight."

Catherine struggled to keep her calm; he wasn't helping.

"It's done, Nick," Warrick reiterated.

"And that's not all, either," Nick went on. "I mean what about him humping her all over the place for the last six months, using her like a sex toy, and then having the nerve to interfere in our relationships. That doesn't strike you as hypocritical? He doesn't mind sticking his nose in between everyone else's bed sheets, but pays no attention to what's going on between his own."

"Not that it's any of our business, but they were being careful," Catherine interjected angrily. "It wasn't deliberate."

"Yeah, well, not careful enough."

He bristled for a moment longer before Warrick spoke.

"There's nothing we can do about it now," he said. "If she is pregnant, it's a bit late to be having the talk on safe sex. We'll just have to deal with it as it comes, handle it the best way we can."

"I'm just saying … that as harsh as this sounds, the kindest thing we can do for her now is to get her an abortion drug," Nick said. "Let's not put her through all this agony and torment if we don't have to."

"It's not our call," Warrick said.

"It's not risk-free, either," Catherine added, worried at the thought. "If she miscarries and it's incomplete, or if she gets infected, it could kill her just as easily as a hard labour. The only difference is it'll be slower. You'll get to watch."

This silenced him, and so completely that after a second she realised she had gone too far. She took pity on him, and touched his arm to soothe him.

"We'll just do the best we can," she said. "Be there for Sara, and keep up a brave face. She doesn't need to know you're scared."

"Let's keep that to ourselves," Warrick agreed. "And keep faith – it may be negative."

"Let's just hope it is," Nick said.

XXX

Sara's day passed at a surprising dawdle – a stark contrast to the chaotic hour she had endured after she had first woken. She had been a nervous wreck at first, but Grissom and Sofia had both been so kind that her fears did not torment her for long. They soon succeeded in doing the impossible in distracting her, and sheltered by their compassion, what she had feared would be an unendurable day of secrets turned out to be quite pleasant.

They shared a few games of Scrabble, a walk down to the far fence line, and in the afternoon Sara allowed herself to rest on the couch, and closed her eyes a while. Grissom tucked her in with a cosy blanket and soft pillow, and that was the position she woke in hours later, when a clatter of noise issued from the kitchen.

She turned her head on the pillow, so blissfully comfortable that she could barely open her eyes.

"How long's she been asleep?" came Catherine's quiet voice.

"Most of the afternoon," Sofia replied, voice also low. "She's been down for the count."

"And Grissom?"

"Holed up in the toilet with a crossword."

"That figures."

Sara listened to them unpack for a while, all of them trying to be quiet so as not to wake her, and then eventually some footsteps approached, stopping as they reached the carpet. Sara forced herself to crank open an eyelid, and saw Catherine peering back at her, looking concerned yet perfectly refreshed.

She perched on the edge of the coffee table.

"Hey – how do you feel?"

Sara blinked, trying to force herself awake; the couch was so comfortable it was like hauling herself out of a coma.

"Tired," she conceded.

She wondered if fatigue was a symptom of pregnancy, or if it was merely her episode that morning which had taken it out of her. Either was possible. She forced herself to move, swinging her legs to the floor as she grimaced at the awakening.

It was then that she froze; her eyes landing on a package beside Catherine's thigh. It was a small brown paper bag, and exactly the right size for a pregnancy test.

Instantly she felt wide awake.

"That's –"

"Yeah," Catherine confirmed quietly.

She threw a discrete look to the side passage, down which Sara suspected Grissom had retreated with his much loved puzzle book.

"You ready now, or would you prefer later?"

Sara stared at the bag, but it took only a moment for her to decide. She caught a glimpse of Nick and Warrick watching her from the kitchen, and did not feel like facing them yet. There was too much pressure there, too many unwanted questions.

"Now," she said, nodding.

"Then let's go."

Catherine took her hand, and escorted her upstairs. Moments later Sara found herself shut in the pale green bathroom – old fashioned yet cosy – and Catherine unwrapped the package on the sink.

Sara took a deep breath, mustering her bravado.

"Do you know what to do?" Catherine asked, holding out the stick.

"Yeah," Sara said, trying to smile. "Whiz on it, right?"

Catherine's lips turned up briefly.

"Just stay calm, aim straight, and don't panic."

She held out the stick between her thumb and forefinger, and Sara took it. It was almost hard to believe that such a small strip of plastic was going to determine her fate, but as soon as the thought occurred she tried to block it out. She wanted to do it before she could think about it; she did not want to end up in another pitiful mess on the floor.

"I'll wait outside," Catherine said.

It was easier than she had thought, the test similar to the drugs test she had done when she had first joined the lab. She did the job, flushed, and then set it back on the sink to develop. Catherine re-joined her, and her first task was to break Sara away from staring at it.

"A watched pot never boils," she said, taking Sara's elbow to lead her over to the fluffy bath mat. "Let's sit down – it'll take a few minutes."

Sara leaned back against the bath, the rim cold against her back, and tried not to think about it. It was strange that she felt so relaxed, strange when she had been so wound up that morning. It was almost as if her emotional reserves were now so depleted that she had no energy left to break down again. Catherine nevertheless took her hand, holding it against her knee, and the gesture was comforting.

Sara's thoughts wandered – wondering how Nick and Warrick had taken it, how Grissom would take it, and then lingering on this thought for a while, her mind drifting to their old lives in Vegas. It felt so long ago now, an age past.

"You know when Grissom and I got engaged, we agreed we didn't want kids," she began. "It just always seemed like something that didn't suit us, something that we never planned. I never thought in a million years that this would happen, that I'd be here now, doing this …"

"Life has a way of being unpredictable," Catherine said, sharing a knowing look. "But sometimes that's part of the fun, part of the charm. I never expected to have Lindsey – she wasn't planned. But then it happened, and as freaked out as I was at the time, I've never regretted it. She's brought a lot of joy to my life. And sometimes the best things are the ones you don't plan. Like this, for instance. None of us ever expected to end up here. But it hasn't been so bad."

"Not so bad?" Sara queried, amused. "It was hell at first."

"At first," Catherine emphasised. "But it hasn't been bad since, considering. We've had six months of peace and quiet, happiness and friendship. There's something to be said for that."

Sara knew what she meant, and smiled. Not all the memories were bad, and in fact for the last few months, they had been distinctly enjoyable. She had almost felt bad for feeling it, knowing how Brass and Greg must feel back in Las Vegas. Nevertheless she tried to stay positive.

"It's definitely a stark contrast to Vegas. No drugs, no puke, no double shifts –"

"No alarm clocks," Catherine added, with a tone that indicated she did not miss them. "No meetings, no court cases, no stress … no Ecklie …"

Sara smiled again. "That's definitely a perk."

"… and we more or less do what we want. I don't know, I like the freedom, the absence of constraints. You don't realise how tied down you are until something like this happens."

Sara looked at her leaning back against the bath, perfectly relaxed, and something suddenly occurred to her which she had not thought of before.

"You're really happy here," she observed.

Catherine shrugged. "Is that so bad?"

"You don't miss Lindsey?"

"Every day," she conceded. "She's my blood. But I know Nick misses his parents, Sofia her mother, Grissom his mom … and we can't bury ourselves in the past. At least we have company here. And the truth is, sooner or later we have to move on, accept it, and keep going. I still love Lindsey, but for that same reason I'm going to do the best I can, be as happy as I can, and I hope she's doing the same – moving on. I've made up mind to enjoy what we have here, and to embrace the positives."

"The bright side," Sara said, her mind going back to a similar conversation with Grissom. "So you subscribe to the Grissom school of thought? That the glass is half full?"

"It's better than it being half empty."

She had a point, and Sara mulled it over as she relaxed against the bath tub.

"And the positives for you?"

"Love," Catherine said, with frank honesty. "Lust, sex, friendship. Waking every day to peace and quiet instead of death and sirens, having a pardon from the rat race. It's not what any of us planned, but it works all right for me."

"And if we're stuck here long term?" Sara queried. "Forever?"

"All the more reason to move on," Catherine replied. "Keep building our lives. We can't stay stagnant forever."

Her blue eyes lingered on her, and Sara understood suddenly what she was getting at, and wondered if the conversation was deliberate. She could not hold herself back on fear and worry, pining for the past, for what might have been. For right or wrong, they were here now, and a blissful future still awaited her if she had the courage to take it. She had friends – brilliant friends – a loving partner, and a happy home.

There was really nothing to fear, nothing at all.

"You know I love you, Cat," Sara said honestly.

Catherine raised an eyebrow a fraction, surprised at the admission, but she didn't miss a beat.

"I love you too," she said smoothly.

It was a statement she would never have expected to hear from Catherine, but it was deeply appreciated, and even more so because Sara knew she meant it. Sara squeezed her hand, and found that she now had the courage to address the result waiting for her on the bench.

"Don't worry," Catherine said. "We're all with you."

Sara reached for the test, holding it between her fingers, and stared at the result.

It was positive.

I have drafted and redrafted this so many times that I've driven myself half crazy trying to make it work. I seriously hope it's okay. It was a very long chapter, but I'm keen to move the story forward. Hope you guys are still enjoying this, and would love to hear from you. Please leave your thoughts - Anna.