A/N: We hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue are taken from 322, "Play with Fire" and 401, "Assume Nothing."

October 2015

As Sara pulls into her driveway, her first emotion is surprise. Grissom's car is parked there in its usual space. She frowns, wondering why he's at home. Normally, by the time she gets home from work, he has already taken Anna to school and is on his way to UNLV for his office hours.

"I hope Anna's not sick," Sara murmurs as she climbs out of her car.

She walks to the front door a bit faster than usual, and steps into a quiet house.

"Griss?" she calls. "Where are you?"

"Right here," he calls back from the kitchen.

Sara nearly runs into the kitchen. "What's wrong with Anna?"

Grissom frowns. "What?"

"You're home on a school day," she says as though it should have been obvious. "Is she sick?"

"No, she's fine. She's at school."

"Oh." Sara sinks onto a barstool at the island as relief floods through her. "When I saw your car, I got nervous. Why aren't you at work?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he replies. He abandons his task of unloading the dishwasher to sit down across from her. "We need to talk about Anna's hearing."

Sara frowns. "Her hearing?"

Irritation shows on Grissom's face. "She didn't hear your phone ringing last night, Sara. Something's wrong."

"I think you're being a bit dire," Sara replies. "She doesn't tend to hear me telling her to pick up her toys, either, but you've never suggested we test her hearing over that."

"Sara," Grissom says, his irritation now creeping into his voice, "don't be like that. You know there's a world of difference between the two situations."

"I know that you're getting awfully upset over an isolated incident."

"Honey, be reasonable. It's a genetic condition! My mother had it, I have it … there's every chance in the world that Anna does, too."

"Your genes only make up half her DNA," Sara shoots back. "She could just have easily have missed out on that condition."

Grissom stares at her in shock. He can't believe that Sara is avoiding a problem. She is so strong … she always confronts her problems head on.

Almost as soon as the thought goes through his head, he realizes that it's not entirely true. Sara has side-stepped problems in the past.

Only when she's scared, he mentally acknowledges. And, this … this is a scary situation.

"Sara, I know it's scary to think about, but –"

"I need to get some sleep before I have to pick Anna up from school." She stands up from her stool and leans to down to kiss him. "I love you, Gil."

Grissom watches as she walks out of the room, stunned by her avoidance.

This is impressive … even for Sara. His lips twist into a wry smile as he thinks of all the times Catherine has chided him for similar behavior.

"A role-reversal," he muses. "Not the first … and likely not the last."

June 2003

Three weeks was a long time.

Long enough, Sara learned, to get over anger.

As they rapidly approached the day Catherine had promised Grissom would return to work, Sara found her anger over his treatment of her melting away. Yes, he had denied her offer of dinner … and considerably more. Yes, he had gone into surgery without telling her.

But, she kept secrets from him, too. Why should she punish him, even in her thoughts and feelings, for being human?

She made her resolution. When he got back to work, she would be sure to treat him with the respect and friendship that had always existed between them.

She glanced at the calendar, and felt a thrill of excitement shoot through her. She could hardly wait to see him again.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

The first emotion Grissom felt was shock. The second was elation. The third, the one that stuck, was sorrow. No, he couldn't have dinner with her. How could he? She was a young, beautiful, vibrant woman, and he was an old man who was losing his hearing.

"No," he said, his tone suggesting that it shouldn't even be up for discussion.

"Why not?" she asked, still holding on to her smile. "Let's … let's have dinner. Let's see what happens."

"Sara …" he said slowly. He didn't even know what to say to her. Finally, he decided that honesty would work best. "I don't know what to do about this." His fingers ran back and forth between them in the air, as though trying to identify the unnamed "this" of their relationship.

Sara's hopeful expression dropped. "I do," she said. She paused, her expression becoming harder. "You know, by the time you figure it out, it really could be too late."

The scene played over and over in his mind during his time spent recuperating from his surgery. For the first week, he reminded himself that he had done the right thing. Sara deserved better than him.

But, as the weeks moved on … as his hearing improved … as he started to feel like the man who had met Sara during a conference in San Francisco …

He started to hope that it wasn't too late.

Going back to work after three weeks off tended to be something most people would dread. Gil Grissom, however, was excited as he walked to his car with his kit in hand for the first time in nearly a month.

Part of his excitement, he knew, stemmed from the utter boredom of so much time at home. At first, it had been necessary. Recovering from surgery, no matter how healthy the patient had been before going into the hospital, was never easy. However, once he had gotten over the initial exhaustion and generally feeling of illness, he had found himself with very little to occupy his time.

He had spent time catching up on his reading and doing some research, but had quickly found that his patience for such pursuits wore thin. It was ironic that the man who preached patience to his team found himself almost unable to sit still and read for more than an hour at a time. Perhaps the faster pace of his crime-solving life left him unable to handle the slower pace of the academic life that he had once dreamed of living. While it was an enjoyable sideline, he was sure he would never want to make it his main occupation.

The most exciting part of his time at home was the simple act of listening. He left his television on for the first four days after his surgery, thrilled that he could hear it. When he turned it off, he found himself listening for every little sound. A dripping faucet he had neglected to turn off all the way, a chirping bird in the tree outside his bedroom window, a neighbor's shout for her children to come in for lunch, squealing tires as another neighbor left late for work, the ringing phone as Catherine called to check on him … They were such little things, but Grissom reveled in being able to experience them fully again. It made him feel … alive again. Younger.

As he made the last turn before he would arrive at the lab, a thrill of nervous excitement shot through him. In only a few minutes, he would see her again.

As his feelings of being old before his time had faded away over the past few weeks, Grissom's last and most tightly-held reason for denying his feelings for Sara had faded with them. She had asked him to dinner, which meant that she was clearly interested in pursuing a relationship with him. After taking the time to appropriately analyze the potential of such a relationship, he found that the positives outweighed the negatives. It was time. He was going to give it a try – as Sara had said, to see what would happen.

He felt lighter than he had in months as he parked in his usual space and made his way into the lab. Judy's face lit up as he passed her desk.

"Welcome back, Dr. Grissom!"

He returned her smile. "Thanks, Judy."

"Catherine's been picking up your messages and mail," she said. "You'll have to get everything from her."

"Is she here yet?"

"Yes, sir. She just got in a few minutes ago."

"Thanks," Grissom said again.

He left Judy and made his way to his office. The door was open and the lights were on; Catherine stood behind his desk, organizing several slightly overwhelming stacks of papers.

"Hi," he said as he crossed the threshold.

"You're back!" Catherine rushed around the desk to hug him. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Grissom said with a chuckle. "You, of all people, should know that. You called me almost every day."

Catherine shrugged unapologetically. "I missed you. We all did."

"I missed all of you, too," Grissom said.

"Hey, Catherine – oh, Gil, you're back!" Brass ducked his head into the room, but didn't walk all the way in. "Good. I've got a homicide at the Sphere. Ready to jump back into the pool?"

Grissom smiled. "More than ready." He turned to Catherine. "Is anyone else here yet?"

"I saw Sara in the locker room."

"Good," Grissom said, his excitement kicking up again. "I'll get her before we go. Do we have any other cases tonight?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. Call Nick and Warrick; tell them to meet us at the Sphere. That place is massive; we'll need as many hands as we can get."

Catherine nodded. "I'll meet you and Sara at the car."

Grissom, more than happy to leave his paperwork behind, left his office. Sara, as Catherine had predicted, was in the locker room, organizing herself before the start of shift.

"Hi," Grissom said from the doorway.

Sara's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. As she looked at him, all her excitement about seeing him again faded away. The anger that had plagued her for so long returned with stunning strength.

Not here … not now.

She worked hard to disguise her anger. Any emotion, happy or otherwise, was completely hidden as she looked at him with a neutral expression. "Welcome back."

Grissom smiled. "Thanks." He stepped more into the room. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Sara replied. "I think I'm the one who should ask you that, though."

"I'm fine," Grissom said, still holding his smile even in the face of her stoic expression. "Um … We've got a case. Homicide at the Sphere."

"You and I are working together?" she asked, dread creeping into her eyes.

Grissom frowned at the change in her expression. "Catherine's coming with us now, and the guys will meet us there."

"Oh," she said, her expression clearing. "Okay. I'll meet you at the car."

Grissom nodded and left the room, still puzzling over her reaction to the idea of working with him.

What on earth happened while I was gone?

Sara stared after Grissom as he left the room. She was shocked by the force of her emotions, but couldn't deny them. Seeing him again made her realize that her anger, far from forgotten, was alive and well.

"Seriously?" she muttered. "He turns me down for dinner, doesn't tell me he's having surgery, and now that he's back, he wants to be my best friend? Oh, I don't think so."

She slammed her locker shut and went to join her teammates at their SUV.

Catherine was already at the car when Grissom arrived. She frowned at the look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"What happened to Sara while I was gone?" he asked.

Catherine's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't seem like herself."

Catherine shrugged. "She's been fine."

"Huh." Grissom climbed behind the wheel. "She's on her way out."

Catherine nodded and waved as Sara approached with her kit in hand.

"Hi," Sara said. She opened the back door and climbed in behind the passenger seat.

Catherine, who had expected Sara to at least claim shotgun, if not argue that she should be allowed to drive, raised her eyebrows. Maybe Grissom was right.

"Hello, everyone," Brass said as Grissom, Catherine and Sara walked into the Sphere together. "Our vic is a woman in her mid- to late-twenties, found in one of the rooms by a housekeeper. Coroner's with her now, so we should have an ID by the time we get up to the room."

"Which room?" Sara asked.

Brass consulted his notes. "1066."

"Okay. I'll go talk to the front desk." She glanced at Grissom as though asking his permission, but at the same time daring him not to grant it.

"Okay," Grissom replied. "Catherine, shall we go visit with the dearly departed?"

"Sure," she replied.

"Brass, can you send us Nick and Warrick when they get here?"

"I'm on it."

Grissom and Catherine went to the elevators, and Brass followed Sara to the desk.

"You okay?" he asked.

Sara frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's not like you to volunteer for a job before you even have all the facts."

Sara sighed. "Leave it alone, Jim."

"Sara, should I be worried?"

She smiled. "No. But, you're a sweetheart for asking."

Brass grinned and shook his finger at her. "You should know better than to flatter me into not worrying about you."

Sara laughed. "Sorry. But, seriously, Jim, I'm fine. No need to worry."

"Okay," he replied. "I'm going to wait for Nick and Warrick. Call if you need me."

"Will do."

Brass walked away, and Sara sighed with relief. She loved him for his concern, but she clearly wasn't going to tell him the real reason she had volunteered to work alone.

The idea of spending time in a hotel room with Grissom made her incredibly uncomfortable.

"Okay, what is going on?" Catherine asked as she and Grissom rode the elevator to the tenth floor.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Sara!" Catherine exclaimed. "She was fine when I first saw her at the lab, and now she's barely speaking. What did you do to her?"

"Nothing!" Grissom held up his hands to ward off her verbal attack. "She's been like this since I said hello to her."

Catherine gave him a sideways glance. "Gil …"

He sighed. "Catherine, I really can't tell you any more than what I already have. She certainly seems angry, but I honestly have no idea why."

"Okay," Catherine conceded. "Just … be nice to her, okay?"

"I'm trying," Grissom said. "I really am, Cath. I've only been back for an hour. How much harm could I have done?"

Catherine smiled. "Fair enough. I'll talk to her."

Grissom sighed with relief. Hopefully, a woman-to-woman talk would help Sara's outlook. The last thing he needed was for his team to fall apart around him.