Epilogue
Time marched on, and happiness reigned. As years passed, Sara came to feel a philosophical sense of gratitude for what they had been through, despite the occasional bad memories. She adored her daughter, and through her came to feel a sense of family and home for the first time.
On the fifth anniversary of their disappearance, Sara stood at the kitchen window as she watched her daughter play in the sandpit outside, the bright afternoon sun shining on her brown pigtails. She looked exactly like Sara, yet with Grissom's blue eyes and placid nature, and even now she could not believe that she had almost thrown her chance at motherhood away, back in her days as a CSI, when none of them had been more than colleagues.
As she watched Grissom stepped up beside her, and momentarily smiled.
"You know, I'll never get over how lucky we are."
"And to think it almost never happened," Sara agreed. "We're so fortunate."
She laid a hand on his back, loving him, and he dropped a kiss to her cheek. A moment later he made for the door, and sighed before calling out to their daughter.
"Libby, come inside! You need to wash up before the others get here!"
Libby, an obedient child, immediately dropped her spade and rushed over, pig-tails bouncing as she leapt up the back steps to the house.
"Go to the bathroom and wash your hands," Sara said, nudging her toward the hallway. "We need to finish packing your things."
On the bed upstairs was an open overnight bag, and Libby would be spending tonight at Dianne Curtis' house, along with Dianne's own two grandchildren – Nick and Sofia's offspring. The annual sleepover had become tradition, and apart from allowing the kids a night in which they were spoilt rotten by Dianne, also gave the six survivors a crucial chance to spend the anniversary of their disappearance together, and remember without having to deal with the pressures of parenthood – or having to explain it to the kids.
Not that the kids had not realised – Sara had been almost dismayed to find that her daughter was unnaturally sharp, and had inherited her and Grissom's combined intelligence. Only a month before Catherine had taken them aside, and reported that Libby had started asking questions, sensing something there. Catherine had sat her down and spoken to her about it on their behalf – letting on that they had gone "missing" for a while, but that it had been a blessing, and not to worry. This had been enough to satisfy Libby for now, but Sara knew in future years more curiosity would come, though she would cross that bridge when she got there.
Nick and Sofia's own kids – three year old Jack and his little sister Katie – were both oblivious, but they were both so energetic and overjoyed with life that Sara was glad they did not share in the same curiosity, and that that moment was years off.
For now they could have fun, and she grinned again as her friends' cars rolled into their driveway, and Libby pelted for the door.
"AUNTIE CATHERINE!"
Catherine appeared in the doorway, her red hair luminous in the sun, and she pushed up her sunglasses as she knelt to greet her goddaughter.
"Hey-hey!" she chimed.
She set aside her case and the two embraced, Libby leaping into her arms and sharing a peck on the lips, Warrick waiting his turn beside them.
"Mmm," Catherine said, "I missed you."
"You did?" Libby asked.
"I did."
"Got a hug for me?" Warrick complained.
Libby grinned and leapt up into his arms, Catherine smiling at the sight, and after greeting her Sara moved past in search of their other friends – and saw Nick and Sofia unloading their car, their son Jack wheeling his own suitcase over toward them, blonde hair bright in the sun, and eighteen month old Katie in Nick's arms, blonde pig-tails falling out as she gazed around at all the commotion.
"Sorry we're late," Nick chimed, as he stepped over the threshold. "We got caught up."
"Work?" Grissom asked.
"Yeah," Sofia replied.
She said no more in front of the kids, but Sara needed no further information. She knew from Sofia's work suit that she had had no time to change before coming there, and that work was evidently in one of its stressful phases. Since their return, this had remained one of the things which had worried her, and though all of the group had remnants of the trauma still in them, it was Sofia who dealt with it by burying herself in long hours at PD, struggling to forget. A few times, she had appeared at Grissom and Sara's house at odd hours, sometimes in the middle of the night, and without a word, Sara had put an arm around her and taken her in, setting her up with a bed for the night. Other times, when Nick too looked about to break, Sara had rounded up their kids and arranged a sleepover, giving the couple a break. Nick and Sofia did the same for them, and had often taken in Libby, treating her as their own. Stressful as it occasionally was, Sara remained glad that she had them, that she found that happy pocket of family love that had eluded her in her own childhood years.
"You okay?" Sofia asked.
Sara realised she had been staring, and shook it off.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
She smiled and led them in, allowing the kids to head off to the toy box, and the adults congregated in the kitchen. A half hour later Dianne arrived, and along with her came Brass, whom she had been dating now for a year, and who kindly volunteered to help babysit the kids through the night.
"How you all doing?" he asked, lowering his voice so the kids in the living room could not hear.
"Fine," Sara reported.
"We're good," Nick replied, leaning back against the bench. "Nothing to worry about."
"Good," he replied. "I hope so."
"You know we're a phone call away," Dianne said, arm around her daughter. "Call if you need us, it doesn't matter what hour."
"We will," Sofia promised.
Five minutes later, after several more reassurances and loving goodbyes, the two left, piling the kids into the back seat of their SUV, and the six survivors were finally alone.
The sun was setting outside, the desert beautiful, and Sara knew that in a few moments, Catherine would inevitably follow their annual tradition, and suggest bathing in their hot tub out on the verandah, watching the sun set. But for now Sara waited, happy to be standing there with Grissom massaging her shoulders from behind, trying to take in the sudden onslaught of memory.
"You're quiet again," Warrick pointed out. "You okay?"
"Fine," Sara said. "Just thinking."
"You should be careful with that," Grissom counselled, squeezing her shoulders. "It's not healthy."
"It's a slippery slope," Catherine agreed.
Her blue eyes bored into Sara, and Sara caught the drift, nodding. It had been after the birth of Libby that she had flirted briefly with illness, her sleep-deprived nights taking a toll on her mental resilience. She had fallen into a world of flashbacks and panic attacks, and after the group had eventually caught on, Grissom had insisted in a rare no-nonsense manner that she get professional help. Three months of psychiatric treatment later, and she had been back on her feet, thanks also to Catherine staying most nights, and though she generally refused to talk about it, she knew that even now, the entire group knew the score. There were only two nights of the year when Sara's mental health threatened to falter; the first was on the anniversary of her own childhood traumas, and the memories it stirred up, and the second was now, on the night it had all began.
"Don't look back," Catherine said. "Unless you're looking at the good times."
"And we had plenty of those," Nick chipped in. "Don't forget."
"Especially you two," Warrick added. "Man, all that sex you had –"
"That was the best part," Grissom said.
Sara glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw him grinning back, she laughed – and broke away to get a beer, suddenly ten times lighter.
"You guys were just the same," she said.
She handed out beers to the group, and Catherine shrugged, unbothered.
"Hey, I had some of the best sex of my life out there – I'm not ashamed of that."
"Some of?" Warrick questioned.
"The best then," Catherine corrected, momentarily feeding his ego.
He grinned, and kissed her.
"And you two?" Grissom asked, looking to Nick and Sofia – Sofia had shed her suit jacket over a chair, and was now guzzling a beer.
"Us, what?" Nick asked.
"The sex was passable," Sofia said, with a teasing grin to Nick.
"Passable?" he complained, lighting up. "Passable? Hey, you enjoyed yourself, I know that for a fact, okay?"
"You're sure about that?"
"Positive. I know how to satisfy my wife. I'm a maestro at that."
"And modest, too," Sara laughed.
But she knew from her girl talk sessions with Catherine and Sofia that he was telling the truth, and Sofia didn't dispute it. In fact a moment later she was in his arms, and Sara saw him swat playfully at her backside, eliciting a giggle.
All of them would get drunk tonight, and on balance it would be a night of fun – fun they would never have had had it not been for the accident.
All of it had been worth it, warts and all.
"We gonna get changed?" Catherine asked, nodding to the hot tub outside.
"Thought you'd never ask," Warrick chimed.
The two left, Nick and Sofia following, and then Sara was alone with Grissom. He still sat on the kitchen bench, knees parted, and she moved between them, her hands on his thighs.
"You feel okay?" he asked.
"I feel … sublimely happy," she said.
"Sublimely?"
She nodded. "Sublimely."
She leaned forward, and kissed him, and he responded gently, hands holding her waist as he held her lips. It went on for several moments, time drifting, until she broke away and rested her head on his shoulder.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too. More than you'll ever realise."
She kissed his neck, and then they parted, Sara hoisting a smile.
"We should change," she suggested. "I have to try out that new bikini."
"You have a new bikini?"
"Uh-huh. I went shopping with Catherine the other day."
He raised an eyebrow, drawn in with a lopsided intrigued smile, and as she turned to head for the bedroom she deliberately peeled off her top, dropping it on the kitchen table in one teasing manoeuvre. She knew before they reached the top of the stairs that the interlude of them changing would take more than five minutes – and up to half an hour – with the door locked. By the time they made it to the verandah the others would be waiting, and ready to tease. But they were family, and that did not matter. They would all be making love tonight, and all be laughing, and forgetting. They were a family, they were happy, and that was all that mattered.
Things had ended well.
XXX
The End.
Can't believe I actually made it to the end of this story - woo-hoo! :)
If you made it this far - and especially if you enjoyed it at all - then I thank you.