It was a surreal experience when Catherine headed downstairs a few minutes later to break the news. She found them gathered in the kitchen in a scene of innocent domesticity, the bright sunlight illuminating the dust on the window as Warrick poured coffee into patterned mugs, and as Grissom stowed away his puzzle book in the top drawer nearby.

He looked up as she descended the stairs, and Catherine worked to keep her face impassive. She did not want to give anything away before time.

"I heard you had a good trip to town," he began, sitting himself down in a kitchen chair.

"Pretty much the same as usual," Catherine replied.

She had done the trip so many times now that it was hardly noteworthy – she knew every stone, rock and dead tree for every inch of the route. But as she replied she felt Nick's eyes on her, watching carefully, and she immediately tried to dodge them.

"Where's Sara?" Grissom asked idly. "Lying down?"

"Upstairs in the bathroom," Catherine corrected, accepting a coffee from Warrick. It was piping hot, and she set it down on the table for a moment to cool. "In fact, she wants a word."

She monitored his reaction out of the corner of her eye, and saw him still, eyes contracting slightly, sensing something in her tone.

She knew he had known her far too long to be fooled completely, and his next statement confirmed it.

"Is she all right?" he asked carefully.

Catherine feigned an uncertain shrug. "I'd go find out if I were you."

He looked at her closely for a moment, his mind visibly ticking over, but then left, evidently deciding she was right. He drifted toward the stairs, and leaning against the bench opposite, Sofia stirred her tea, saying nothing. Beside her Nick's face was taut with worry, but they all held silent until they heard a door click closed upstairs, and they were finally alone.

"Well?" Nick prompted.

He looked ready to burst from the concern, and Sofia put a hand on his arm, soothing him.

"Positive," Catherine supplied.

She saw no point in withholding the verdict any longer, and watched as her friends digested it, and fell as one into a momentary stunned silence. Sofia looked shocked, staring at her, and Nick gripped the edge of the table, nodding to himself, and appearing deeply disturbed.

"Damn," Warrick said.

He set his coffee aside, forgotten now, and looked at her with undisguised anxiety. Catherine had no answers for him. She had deliberately kept up a brave face for Sara's sake, but her own mind was a quagmire of impending troubles. She saw clearly so many things that Sara did not yet see, and she barely knew where to begin in dealing with them. She knew they would have to, one at a time, but the mere prospect was perilously daunting.

"How is she?" Sofia asked.

Catherine shrugged. "I doubt it's sunk in yet. Right now she's just worried about telling Grissom."

Nick looked overwhelmed, and he moved to sit with them on the table, the chairs forgotten.

"How will he take it, do you think?" he asked. "Well?"

"I don't know," Catherine confessed.

She was concerned about that herself, and could only imagine what Grissom would make of it, but all that was now beyond her control. The most she could do was listen for shouting, and intervene if she was forced to, but even that was a long shot. She hoped it would not come to that.

"We'll know soon enough," Warrick said.

He reached over and took Catherine's shoulder, massaging slightly, sensing her anxiety. Catherine felt grateful for his touch.

"Well … their relationship's strong," Sofia ventured hopefully. "That should count for something."

"We know he loves her," Nick agreed. "I don't imagine he'd abandon her in a time of need. Not Grissom."

"That's a change of pace," Catherine said, noting the sudden swimming sympathy in his eyes. "A few hours ago you were ready to slay him."

"I was beginning to think we'd have to hide the shovel," Warrick added.

"Well, I was shocked," Nick admitted, "I don't deny that. But to be here now, and have it confirmed, it's a different kettle of fish, you know?"

Catherine nodded; she did know, and felt the weight of depressing uncertainty every bit as much as he did.

"I mean, they must be suffering up there," he went on. "Both of them. It's a hard thing to face."

"And this is just a taster," Sofia added. "From hereon, it's only going to get more difficult."

"Well we'll have to help," Catherine said. "Deal with it one thing at a time, support her as best we can."

"We can give her plenty of emotional support," Nick said, looking daunted nonetheless, "and make sure she eats properly, stays healthy …"

"Grissom too," Warrick said. "I don't know this is any easier on him."

"Or the baby," Sofia added.

They fell into silence, each of them imagining it, the effect of having a baby in the house. It was almost more than Catherine could take in, and she could only resolve to take one thing at a time. She did sense however that their idle lifestyle had fallen away, and that the blissful six months of rest and romance had disintegrated into memory. She longed for it, for those days which had been so wonderfully trouble-free.

"Nothing stays the same, I guess," Nick said, voicing her thoughts.

"Not for long," Warrick agreed.

And there was not much more to be said.

XXX

In the bathroom upstairs, Sara paced, trying to get her thoughts straight. She felt jittery – more jittery than she had ever felt in two years of sleeping with Grissom, but she knew the news did not compare to any she had had to break before. It was so different from her move to swing, from her almost drink driving charge, and she had no prior experience on which to base any expectation of his response. They had agreed they did not want kids, and now she was pregnant.

She heard him ascend the stairs, and had little time to brace herself before she heard his knuckle tap against the door.

"Sara?"

She took a deep breath, willing her skating nerves to settle, and reached for the shining door handle.

"Come in," she invited.

She held the door open for him, but he did not move. He stood immobile in the doorway, his uncertain gaze passing first over her face and then to the cramped room beyond.

He hesitated.

"Would you like to go into the bedroom?" he ventured.

She saw suddenly his dilemma – that there was nowhere to sit in the tiny bathroom, and perching on the edge of the bathtub was not an ideal option. She had not even seen it in her flustered state, but hastened to nod, recovering quickly.

"Sure," she said brightly.

She tried to smile, but his eyes only narrowed with concern, pondering her behaviour, and when he took her under his arm it was with a soothing hold reminiscent of that morning. He led her gently to the bedroom, and then sat her on the bed before closing the door behind them.

He picked up her hand as he joined her, holding it against his knee.

"I just want you to know that if this is about this morning, it's fine," he said, holding her fingers against the denim. "Don't worry about it."

Surprised, she looked up, and saw in his eyes that he was anticipating a further talk about her panic attack that morning. He no doubt expected the topic of conversation to be sexual, relating to the timing and possible consequences of when it had happened.

Sara felt her hands shaking, yet simultaneously felt a desire to correct his mistaken impression.

"It's not that," she admitted. "It's not the timing, or the attack, it's more about the reason."

He hesitated again, and laid his next words down very gently.

"I think I know the reason. And if talking to Catherine helps, or –"

Sara shook her head, anxiously withdrawing her hand. The strain was unbearable.

"It's not what you think it is," she said.

He stared, uncomprehending. He searched her eyes for clues.

"There was something I couldn't tell you this morning," she confessed, as her heart hammered in her chest. "Something very unexpected, and something I only just realised as we were making love."

He stared. Sara mustered all her courage.

"Gil," she said, shaking, "I'm pregnant."

XXX

The silence in the room was sharp, piercing in its intensity. Suddenly Sara could hear everything, her ears hypersensitive to all noise outside. She could hear a bird on the horizon, dull murmurs from downstairs, and even the rustle of the wintry wind as it blew through the dead leaves outside.

She held still, wary of any word or movement, wary of his reaction.

He did not hold out for long.

"You're what..?" he asked slowly.

He spoke as though he heard a foreign word in an interrogation room, or an excuse he could barely believe.

Sara mustered again her courage.

"I'm pregnant."

He goggled at her, his mouth open slightly, his gaze flying from her eyes to her stomach, breasts, and back again. She wondered what he saw; it was all no different. The days were still too early.

"Pregnant," he repeated, testing the word on his tongue.

"Up the duff," Sara confirmed, her patience breaking. "Knocked up, in the club …"

He held up a hand, the synonyms coming as unwelcome as multiple pregnancies, and he stalled her to take them one at a time.

"Pregnant?" he repeated.

"Yes," Sara replied.

Deciding it was time, she pulled the test stick from where she had stowed it in the back pocket of her jeans, and held it out for him to view. He took it mutely.

"It's positive," she said.

He said nothing.

"Catherine went to the drug store this morning. It's why I vomited yesterday, but I didn't want to tell you until I was sure. I knew you'd freak out."

His eyes jolted to hers, piercing sharply.

"I'm not freaking out," he said firmly.

But it was several long moments before he spoke again.

"I'm just … astonished."

Sara nodded, feeling vague relief – astonished she could deal with.

"I know it's a lot take in," she said. "If you need a moment to digest it, that's okay."

He did take a moment, staring at the pregnancy test as though checking its accuracy, but it must have passed as he looked then back to her eyes, his expression shell-shocked. She patiently held silent, waiting it out, until he at last swallowed his evident terror and spoke with something akin to rational calm.

"How far along?" he asked clearly.

"I'm honestly not sure," Sara replied.

He said nothing.

Seeing this answer dissatisfied him, she added more, "Catherine thinks about six weeks, give or take. That's normally when morning sickness first presents itself."

"Early days, then," he concluded.

"Early days," Sara agreed.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Well I'm glad you told me," he said.

His tense hand returned to her knee, though the gesture was stiff and unfamiliar.

"It's going to be okay."

Sara nodded. "It's fine," she lied.

Another pause.

"How do you feel about it?" he queried.

"Surprised," Sara admitted. "Scared. Actually a little terrified."

"It's certainly unexpected," Grissom offered.

His fingers settled around hers, his grip steadily softening.

"I know it wasn't planned," Sara said. "But now that it's happened …"

She paused, taking a breath.

"You know we don't have to go through with this," she ventured. "It's still early days, there are drugs in that pharmacy which will terminate a pregnancy."

"To force an abortion?" Grissom said, aghast.

He looked terrified – more scared than when she had announced the news itself.

"You can't be thinking of doing that," he said quickly. "To do that out here, outside of a doctor's care, is to put yourself at enormous risk …"

"Having the child is going to be even riskier," Sara said even-handedly. "This is no place for childbirth. And either way, this is going to involve risk. I'm already pregnant, and one way or another this child is going to come out – whether we carry it to term or not."

She had silenced him, and she could see the fear rattling around in his irises.

"I know it's scary, but I don't see a safe way out," Sara said.

"I still don't know I'm okay with you aborting," he said carefully. "There's a difference between putting yourself at risk when it's unavoidable and doing it voluntarily. If the pregnancy doesn't progress to plan, your body will know what to do, just as it will otherwise."

"You say you're not okay with aborting, but are you okay with being a father?" Sara asked, knowing this was the alternative. "Because you said in Vegas that you didn't want kids."

"In Vegas, I didn't," he said. "Las Vegas is no place for a child to be raised, certainly not happily or healthily, and not with our jobs balanced into the bargain."

"But out here?"

"Out here it's different," he said.

She saw the conclusion stirring faintly in his eyes, and she hardly believe it, and could believe even less that she felt the same one stirring within herself. She had had a day to adjust to the pregnancy now, and already the thought of disposing of the baby felt uncomfortable.

"You're saying you'd be happy to settle down here," Sara concluded. "To have a family?"

"We do have a family," he said, matter-of-fact. "They're all downstairs. The only difference is that now we're talking about adding a child to the household."

Sara fell silent; it was all too confusing.

"How do you feel about being a mother?" he probed.

Sara tried to imagine holding a baby in her arms, and wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"If you want to terminate it, that's fine," Grissom said, holding her hand. "I'm with you all the way and we can do it as safely as possible. But just make sure you think it through."

"I think you want to have the child," Sara said honestly.

"Not if you don't," he replied. "As you said, there's risk involved, and it's something you'd need to consider very carefully and be willing to undertake. You'd have to be dedicated. Raising a child is a big commitment, and I know it's a commitment you haven't been prepared to make in the past."

It was true – Sara had been adamant in the past that she did not want a child. Her own upbringing had been so traumatic, and their lives in Las Vegas so unstable, that it seemed foolhardy to even entertain the idea. On the other hand, it was now different, and if ever there was a peaceful life she could offer a child, it was here.

"It's up to you," he said. "If you want to terminate it, all you have to do is say. If you want to keep it, we'll do everything we can to prepare, and minimise the risk as best we can. And the life any child would have here would be a good one. It's peaceful, safe and happy, and it'd have six adults around to love it. It would have a proper family."

The idea was romantic, and Sara felt herself soften as she pictured it: Grissom at the kitchen table, reading with a child, a tottering form bouncing through the dusty meadows outside. It was not so bad – not so bad at all.

"Think about it," he said. "You don't have to decide tonight."

Sara nodded, grateful.

"But know that I love you," he said. "And one way or another, this will work out. It'll be fine, and we'll all be happy – no matter what you choose."

XXX

Despite the promise of further discussion, in the end it did not eventuate. Sara realised later that while she had barely been able to face it at the time, the decision had in fact been made right there in the bedroom, and the only outstanding point had been a question of her ability to adjust to it. She spent the next few days deep in thought, marginally withdrawn, and spent the majority of her time in Grissom's company. In the end they needed few words beyond that which they had already exchanged, and they passed several afternoons sitting on the hillside, watching the tufts of grass blowing in a chilly winter breeze, watching the clouds roll in and roll out again, their patterns and colour ever fascinating to her trained scientific eye. She lay back in his arms and felt him kiss her hair, his hand straying lovingly to hold her abdomen, acquainting himself with his unborn child.

As the days passed Sara inevitably adjusted to the idea. Catherine's solidarity in the bathroom, and the hugs she had received from the group afterward, had been most comforting, and the strength of Grissom's love had settled any doubts she had about her ability to see it through. Though the option to terminate remained – the box from the pharmacy resting on the kitchen bench – it remained untouched, and Sara grew instead a strong protective love for her child. She tried to imagine what it might look like, what its gender and personality might be, and found herself frequently daydreaming about the future. She imagined holding her baby, feeding her baby, disciplining a toddler, and then eventually sitting at the table and educating her child as it grew. She could picture Grissom sat there, glasses on, teaching him or her to read and write, or rocking the child in his arms when it cried or had a nightmare. The thought melted her heart, and in those daydreams she finally saw the blissful future that both Catherine and Grissom had hinted at, and her past in Vegas crumbled into an almost forgotten memory.

She knew Grissom felt it too. She turned on the pillow at night to see him gazing contentedly up at the ceiling, one arm behind his head, and his kisses and embraces had also never been more loving. Like her, he fell temporarily into an almost isolated existence, the two of them completely absorbed in each other, and Sara was grateful that the others took this in their stride. They seemed to elect to give them space, and picked up the slack on the chores and errands to town, asking no questions, and giving them time. Whenever Sara did step into the room they all hugged and kissed her lovingly, telling her not to worry, and their affection only strengthened her resolve. A few days later, when they eventually emerged from their solitude, Sara dropped the box of pills unused into the bin, and she saw Nick nod from across the kitchen, acknowledging the decision.

The weeks that followed were for Sara quite happy. Her relationship with Grissom was strong, her morning sickness minimal, and she watched with adoration the avid interest he took in all things pregnancy related. She caught him one day lazing around in the living room with Catherine, whiling away the afternoon as they reminisced at length about her pregnancy with Lindsey. She answered all his questions with complete honesty – almost more honesty than Sara could handle – but Grissom listened patiently and smiled at all her stories, and in no time at all he seemed an expert on what to expect. He took a keen interest in Sara's breasts and stomach, constantly monitoring for any change, and Catherine confessed to Sara late one night that he had approached her for advice on their sex life, and when they should stop having sex. Sara had smiled to herself, knowing they were far from that point, but his depth of interest and concern only strengthened her love for him.

All in all, perhaps one of the most remarkable things about her pregnancy was the transition it brought about in her friends. They were all accepting and loving, and as the days passed even became excited right along with her, but she also began to notice a subtle change in their own relationships. It was as if her pregnancy had propelled them forward into consummating their own relationships, and she saw a week or two after her announcement that Sofia and Nick seemed to be growing ever closer. Their absences in the bedroom upstairs and walks around the desert were growing ever longer, and she began to suspect that the relationship was crossing into the sexual domain. She witnessed, moreover, an identical change in Warrick and Catherine, and that these days whenever Catherine joined them in the living room, or in hanging out on the verandah, it was invariably with Warrick draped lovingly around her, and his hands seemed unwilling to let her go. Catherine also did not shrug him off, and Sara knew they were tightening.

Though Sara elected to give them privacy – the matter being none of her business since Sofia's headaches had healed – she nevertheless found herself at the centre of proceedings anyway, thanks largely to the close proximity they all lived in. She had been engaging in an innocent night-time trip to the bathroom when she heard whispers outside up the hallway, and the bathroom door abruptly swung open to reveal Nick standing there.

There was no way she could possibly avoid spotting the enormous bulge in his underwear, or the way his eyes dipped straight to the sink cabinet – where their contraception supplies were stored.

He pulled up abruptly instead, smiling with visible awkwardness.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realise you were …"

He grinned, caught. Sara, a wild playful urge seizing her, dried her hands and leaned calmly back against the coveted cabinet, raising a look of sheer innocence.

"Hey," she greeted, stifling a grin, "What's up?"

Her eyes dipped to his shorts, knowing full well what was up, and though he laughed nervously, for some reason he still lied.

"Just wanted to use the bathroom," he said, gesturing toward the toilet. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all," she said, though she did not budge. "Go right ahead."

He stayed still, thwarted by her lack of movement.

"You don't have to be shy," she teased. "I've … pretty much seen it all."

She was referring to their wild night six months ago, when they had first returned from Vegas. She had seen it all then – the entire group had. Now was no different except for orientation.

He laughed to himself, and then stepped forward, conceding.

"C'mon, Sara," he confided, "let's not play games here, okay? Don't make this any harder."

"There is no way I could make that harder," Sara replied.

He laughed, even as she finally conceded and stepped aside.

"You're dirty," he said. "You know I think Grissom's got a tiger on his hands here."

"You're just figuring that out?" Sara teased.

"Oh no, I knew six months ago. Your dirty knees after you emerged from the barn was a bit of a giveaway."

He rummaged in the cupboard, finding what he needed, and had stood to leave just as Sara stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"Nick," she said.

"Yeah?"

She let her smile fall, turning serious.

"Be gentle with her. Make sure there's a soft pillow under her head."

She knew Sofia's headaches had passed, but at the same time knew it would not pay for her to be thrown against walls or headboards. The last thing she needed was a relapse.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll take care of her, okay?"

The serious expression in his eyes told her he knew perfectly what she was getting at, and he rounded it off with a kiss to her cheek.

"I'll see you in the morning."

He left, crossing the hall and back into his bedroom, where Sara heard Sofia's voice quietly querying what took so long.

"Just Sara being protective," he replied softly. "She wanted to make sure you're okay."

Sara did not hear the rest of the conversation, but it was then that she did hear voices floating up from the living room below. She crept to the edge of the landing, and saw Catherine down there with Warrick, pinned hard against the kitchen bench. They were kissing passionately, her head tilted back, and she saw immediately that Catherine's hand was deep inside the front of his shorts, groping and massaging as she unleashed six months' worth of pent up passion.

Warrick broke away suddenly, panting for breath.

"We'd better find somewhere private," he said. "We don't want Grissom walking in on us."

Catherine's eyes opened – and immediately locked onto Sara's at the top of the stairs.

"Actually, we already have a witness."

She looked completely unbothered, and though Sara moved into the shadows to leave them to it, Catherine called her back before she'd taken two steps.

"Sara."

She moved back to the railing. Catherine picked up a folded blanket beside her – a small pile of supplies were gathered on the table as though they had been planning a night-time picnic.

"We'll be down by the far fence if you need us."

"Only make sure you don't," Warrick added, grinning and throwing her a conspiratorial look.

Sara smiled to them, loving them both.

"I'll see you both in the morning," she said pointedly, and returned to the bedroom.

The sex must have been satisfactory, as Sara barely saw either couple for the entire next week, as they shut themselves away and engaged in what Grissom blithely called a sex marathon. Sara felt happy for them, and if anything was impressed that they had all held out as long as they had, and was not at all inclined to be even remotely bothered by it. Nick and Sofia retreated to his bedroom, interspersed by long walks around the countryside, and Catherine and Warrick came up for air even less than they did. Sara took over the cooking and the lighter chores – she had been forbidden from doing anything physically strenuous, cutting out the trips to town and any heavy lifting – and despite the occasional laughs and thumps from upstairs, the week was strangely quiet.

Nevertheless, she knew that like all things the bliss of love and romance had to end, and this time it was Nick's doing when the bubble burst several weeks later, and he summoned everyone to a team meeting in the kitchen. It was late afternoon when they arrived, everyone filing back in after another day of blissful idleness, and Sara sat down at the kitchen table beside Grissom, feeling only vaguely awake.

He pushed a coffee in front of her, his hand then settling as it frequently did on her shoulder, offering a loving squeeze. Across the table Catherine slid into an empty seat beside Sofia, and greeted her friend with an affectionate kiss.

"I feel like I've hardly seen you this past week," she said.

"And whose fault's that?" Grissom teased, joyfully raising an eyebrow.

"I can think of several culprits," Sara suggested, doing a quick sweep of the room.

"Man, you're lucky you're pregnant," Warrick said, throwing her a smile. "Or we could remind you of half the things you two have got up to."

"Don't let that stop you," Sara said, in a mood to have some fun.

She had spent a very pleasant afternoon outside with Grissom – lying in his arms on a picnic blanket several meadows away – and the glow, and accompanying fatigue, had not yet worn off. It was nice to be able to have sex without a condom, and Grissom was making the most of it. Yet looking around the room she could see almost identical giddy fatigue on all her friends' faces, with the possible exception of Nick, who was at the head of the table and looking oddly serious. She was far from alone.

"Personally, I think celibacy's overrated," Catherine said.

"I'll second that," Sofia said, sharing a delighted smile with her.

"Well at least we're all in agreement," Warrick ruled, lifting his mug to toast Sara, who happily clinked her own to his.

But Sara's eyes found Nick, and she saw that he was not smiling.

"What's up?" she invited.

"Yeah, spill Nick," Warrick added. "What's the big summons about?"

"I just wanted us to talk," Nick said. "Have a bit of a status check about where we are here."

"What's wrong with where we are?" Catherine asked, puzzled.

"Well … we have a baby on the way here," Nick said, gesturing hesitantly to Sara. "And that's just one thing. I mean, last summer when we all arrived here I know we all hoped this was only going to be temporary, but I think it's time to face facts that it doesn't look like that's the case. We've turned the corner of winter now, it's past six months at least, and I think it's time we had a talk about this stuff. About where we're heading."

"You mean a long term plan?" Sofia asked.

"Exactly – a long term plan."

"Nick," Grissom said carefully, "I don't think this is the kind of environment where we can easily make plans. There's too much uncertainty."

"I agree," Warrick said. "This is a day-at-a-time kind of place."

"Well I don't agree," Nick said. "I mean I know we've all had a lot to adjust to, there's been a lot of feelings and trauma flying around, and we've all needed down time to deal with that. But time's marching on, and there are still a lot of questions we haven't answered."

"Such as?" Catherine asked.

Sara wasn't sure she wanted to hear it, and hesitated to take any part in the conversation.

"Such as what's out there," Nick replied. "I mean I know we had a hostile experience in Vegas –"

"Damn right we did," Warrick said bluntly.

"- but," Nick went on, "we don't know that holds true for the rest of the country. Vegas isn't like other cities – never has been and never will be. And what happened there may not be a representation of what happened everywhere else. It's quite possible there are pockets of good people out there – citizens we should be linking up with. There may even be a doctor or a nurse who can help Sara when her time comes, and if there is, it's our duty to find out."

"This is like déjà vu," Sofia mused, passing a look to the rest of them.

"We tried all this, Nick, and it ended badly," Warrick said.

"Very badly," Catherine said looking as if she couldn't believe that she was hearing it again. "In case you've forgotten we were very lucky to get out with our lives. We'd all be dead right now if it wasn't for Sofia."

"Or maybe you've forgotten that she saved your behind," Warrick added.

"No, I haven't forgotten," Nick said, holding his ground. "And I'm grateful every day, as she's well aware. But I don't think that's justification for sitting here in cowardice. I mean consider if there are people out there, people getting themselves organised and moving on, and in the meantime we've spent years just holed up here, unable to face it, stealing to stay alive –"

"Stealing?" Sofia repeated.

"What, now you have a problem with it?" Catherine interjected.

"If you had a problem with that, Nick, the time to mention it would have been six months ago," Grissom said, temper rising.

"I don't have a problem with it," Nick said. "There was no choice. What I'm saying is –"

"That you want to hike out and put our lives at risk?" Sofia asked.

"Again," Catherine said pointedly.

"I don't think we have a choice," Nick said, tone firming. "We have a kid on the way here, and if we're going to raise a child here for the next thirty years and settle down permanently, I think it's our responsibility to know the answers to these questions. This isn't stuff you can bury your heads in the sand on, we need to know. For all we know civilisation's carrying on quite happily in the next town –"

"There's a plague here, Nick," Grissom said, staring at him with disbelief, "Civilisation as we knew it has collapsed. Like it or not, we're on our own. We've already established that."

"And the sooner you adjust to it, the better," Catherine said bluntly.

"If it was just us, no problem, but we have a child here, Cath," Nick said.

"You keep saying that, but it's not yours," Warrick said. "Back off and leave Sara out of this."

Sara held silent, and looked away. She was liking the conversation increasingly less every second.

"I agree," Grissom said firmly. "If you want to go, Nick, go for your own reasons, but leave our child out of it."

"It's for your child that we need to do this, Griss," Nick said irritably. "And you should know that better than anyone here. It's Sara's life at risk, and even if she delivers safely, there's still a lot of stuff she's going to need, things we can't get around here. We need to start preparing for this, getting things ready. You can't leave this 'til the last second, man –"

"Well if you want to go out there and contract the plague, go ahead," Sara said. "I'm sure that'll be helpful."

"We can be careful," Nick said. "We didn't know what we were walking into last time, but this time we will. We'll take all the precautions."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Catherine said, shifting angrily in her chair.

"You really want to go traipsing out there with a pregnant woman?" Warrick asked. "And three beautiful women?"

"Sara can stay here where it's safe."

"And Catherine and Sofia?" Grissom interjected angrily. "You're willing to put them at risk? You know what's out there, Nick, you were there after it happened to Sara. She still carries the scars."

"I'm not playing down for a second what happened to Sara," Nick said carefully. "I know, I was there –"

"No, you weren't," Grissom retaliated. "You were several blocks away with Sofia. You weren't there to hear her screams, to hear her panic. You don't know what that sounds like, when your heart's in your throat, and you can hear your fiancé being raped through the wall –"

"Gil," Catherine said warningly.

Sara had got to her feet, the memory too unpleasant to proceed with. She crossed to the bench, nauseous and needing air.

Silence fell. She sensed Grissom move, but Sofia got to her first. She cast an angry look to the group and then looped an around Sara's back, holding her.

"You all right?" she asked.

"You gonna be sick?" Catherine added, swiftly joining her.

Sara struggled to stifle it, to block out the memory which tore at her senses.

"Take her for some air," Grissom told Sofia, gesturing to the door. "We'll be done in a minute."

Sara did not feel like leaving, but felt like hearing the rest of the conversation even less, and on balance had no problem with leaving them to slay each other in private.

She let Sofia lead her outside, and descended the steps to emerge into the late afternoon sun – the peaceful afternoon she had been enjoying so much with Grissom only an hour before.

It felt so far away now.

"Take some deep breaths," Sofia said, leading her over onto the grass. "Don't think about it."

It was rotten luck that they talked so loudly that Sara heard the rest anyway, Catherine's voice ringing clear to her through the open door.

"Nicely done," she said acidly.

"That was our fault," Grissom corrected, his voice heavy with guilt. "We shouldn't have spoken in front of her."

"I agree," Warrick said. "That was stupid. We shouldn't be upsetting her when she's pregnant."

"I didn't mean to upset her," Nick said. "I don't want to upset anyone here, I'm just –"

"We know," Catherine said, softening. "Just telling the truth – hard as it is to face."

"Look, at the end of the day, we're all in this together," Nick went on. "And if you all decide you don't want to do this, then I'll go along with the majority. And I won't say another word. I just think of her giving birth out here, of everything she's risking, and all the gear she's going to need … and I'm not sure that sitting back hiding out here is the responsible decision. Apart from anything else, we're talking about raising that child out here in complete isolation, with no friends its own age, without a clue about what lies thirty miles east of us. And the food shortage alone is a problem we're going to face very soon. And if you guys can look me in the eye and tell me truthfully that you're okay with that, then I'll hold silent forever. Just say so now."

An hour later they were agreed, with Sara's full endorsement, and two days later the party was ready, and Sara watched four of her friends disappear with loaded packs into the distance. She stood on the front steps alone with Grissom, knowing they had made the right decision, and yet still feeling nervous by it.

"Tell me it'll be okay," she said.

"They'll be back safe," he assured, holding her close. "They'll be very careful. Don't worry."

But it was easier said than done.

Moving right along ... back to the action ...