"Downtown, or back to Betty's?" Sara asked as she fired up the car. The radio came on, and she turned it off before doing up her seatbelt.

"Betty's, if it's not too much trouble," Grissom replied, reaching for his own seatbelt.

"It's fine."

"You sure? I wouldn't want you to be late."

She gave him a smile, then checked her mirror and manoeuvred out of the space and onto the road. "I tell you what you can do to save me time," she said with a quick look in his direction. "Text Greg, ask him to come in. My cell's in my purse on the backseat."

Grissom watched her uncertainly for a moment, but then reached for her cell and after slipping his glasses on did as bid. A couple of minutes later, Sara's cell chimed with Greg's reply of, "I'm on way," which made Grissom laugh.

"What?" Sara asked, glancing at him.

"Nothing. His responses were never this quick when I was the boss, that's all."

A smile broke across Sara's face. "He's my number one now, my Catherine, can you believe it?"

Grissom sighed. "I hope he has your back like Catherine had mine. You're going to need it."

Her smile faltered, and she refocused on the road. "Did you know he'd bought himself a Triumph motorbike?" she then asked. "A late fortieth birthday present."

The corner of Grissom's mouth lifted wryly. "Early mid-life crisis?"

"He says it's to beat the traffic," she replied, but her tone suggested she shared Grissom's opinion on the matter. She indicated left and took the turn into Betty's neighbourhood.

"So," Grissom began, just as Sara asked, "Home Depot, huh?"

They laughed.

"The AC in my mother's bedroom wasn't working properly so I said I'd take a look at it," he said. "Least I could do in the circumstance, even if I can't stand the place."

"And?"

"All fixed."

Sara smiled, nodded her head and turned her attention back to the road.

"So, huh, I was saying," Grissom tried again just as Sara pulled up outside Betty's building, and paused.

Putting the car in park, she turned toward him and watched him expectantly. He shrugged his shoulder and glanced up at Betty's building through the windshield, and briefly she wondered if he'd changed his mind about what he wanted to say.

"Sara," he said, and met her expectant eyes, "what I should have said earlier―the reason I asked you to come out to dinner with me…it's because I was hoping we could start putting our differences aside." He gave her a trembling smile. "I was hoping we could be friends again. I know it's going to take time to rebuild the trust that's gone, but I'd like to give it a try."

Sara swallowed, averted her gaze to a point beyond him through the window.

"I know I made mistakes," he went on softly, and she brought her eyes back to his face, "I think we both did, but…I've missed you, Sara. I've missed being friends with you." His lips curled with a gentle, tentative smile. "I missed talking with you, even if toward the end we weren't talking much anymore."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he raised his hand off his lap and gently covered her mouth with it.

"I'm not apportioning blame," he said and smiled, and pinching his bottom lip dropped his hand and lifted an uncertain shoulder. "As I said before, I just want to look forward, rather than back."

Sara flicked her eyes away uneasily and nodded her head before giving him a hesitant smile. She knew it was her turn to speak, but at that moment in time she couldn't think of anything to say that would be looking forward to the future rather than rehashing the past.

"Anyways, regardless of what happens next, I wanted you to know." He paused, made a move toward her but reached for the car handle instead. He waited a beat, then turned his back on her to get out of the car.

"I'd like that too," she said, the words rushing out of her mouth, as he was stepping out, "for us to be friends again."

Stopping in his tracks, Grissom turned toward her. She smiled at him, and his face lit up with pleasure and relief alike.

"I meant what I said before," he insisted. "I didn't just come back because of Heather. She gave me the excuse I needed to come back to Vegas and see you."

"You've been back before."

"Sure, to visit my mother," he replied. "But not to do right by you—by us."

"You could just have picked up the phone, sent me a text. You managed it today."

He stared back at her unwaveringly, and the conflict and sadness that suddenly appeared unconcealed in his eyes tugged at her heart. "No, Sara. I couldn't. I didn't think I had the right. Not then, not so soon after the divorce."

"And now?"

He gave her a soft smile. "Now, I feel differently."

Sara's heart was beating double time. He held her gaze briefly before he turned away and got out of the car. She was happy they'd reached an understanding and had begun to talk again, even if it was still strained and rather fraught at times. He was taking steps to rebuild their friendship and she would meet him halfway. Of course she wanted more from him, but if that was all he could offer her, then she'd happily take it. She said she'd missed him, and she had, more than she cared to admit even to herself.

"I had fun tonight," he said, leaning into the car, and Sara refocused with a start. "Despite what you may think. Thank you."

"I did too," she said, holding his gaze. "Despite what you may think."

His face lit up with a smile she returned warmly. "You take care," he said.

Her smile faded. "You too. And stay safe on that boat of yours."

After a nod and a lingering look, Grissom closed the car door and started walking toward his mother's condominium. It was with a heavy heart that Sara put the car in gear and pulled away. She didn't see Grissom stop in his tracks when he felt he was out of sight, or the sad look on his face as he watched her speed away until she disappeared round the corner. And all Sara could think about as she drove to the lab was that he hadn't kissed her goodbye.

When she pulled in to the CSI car lot, Greg was already there and stood removing his helmet next to his motorbike. She parked a few spaces further on, then caught him up as he locked up the bike. They walked in together, got their kits and the keys to a Denali and went on their way. Their brief was short – female DB found on an isolated farm on the outskirts of Primm. Sara took the wheel, and feeling a little tension Greg let her. The ride was silent, Sara lost in thought, while Greg pretended to watch the scenery. They'd been driving about twenty minutes when he finally spoke.

"Denalis never smell this good normally," he remarked, and giving her head a shake Sara turned toward him and gave him a puzzled look. "The car smells nice, Sara," he rephrased impatiently. "And it's not me, 'cause it's a known fact that wearing perfume dulls one's sense of smell. Grissom told me that often enough, as I'm sure he told you."

Sara's frown deepened before understanding dawned, and pulling a face at him she refocused her gaze on the road.

"Did you go out on a date?" Greg asked with disbelief.

Sara shrugged. "It wasn't a date, but yeah, I was out for a meal when the call came in. I came straight in. No big deal."

"No big deal?" he repeated incredulously. "Come on, Sara, you and I both know you wouldn't bother putting on perfume if—" Greg's words died on his lips, as his eyes widened suddenly. "I thought something was off," he said, reaching inside his coat pocket for his cell. He swiped the screen a few times and grinned. "Bingo."

"What are you doing?" Sara asked, puzzled.

"Grissom," Greg said. "You went out for a romantic meal with Grissom."

Sara frowned, but didn't bother refuting it. "It wasn't romantic," she said.

He arched a challenging brow. "Wasn't it?"

Sara opened her mouth to deny it, but then thought better of it and shook her head impatiently. "How did you know it was Grissom anyway? It could have been anyone."

"The text you sent me―or not, as the case was."

"Don't tell me. Grissom signed it?"

"No, he didn't. But he might as well have. There was something different yet strangely familiar about it, and now I get it." Sara eased a sideways look at Greg and he grinned at her. "Oh, it must have been all kinds of awkward."

Sara smiled. "You could say that again."

"And he was still in one piece when you left? Or are we going to get a call in a week's time when they find his decomposing body in some dumpster someplace?"

Sara laughed. "I'm not that bad."

"After what he did? Who'd blame you if you were?"

Sara paused. "It wasn't just him, Greg."

"You've changed your tune."

Her smile saddened. "Time does that to a person."

Greg nodded, turned his gaze back to the road, and Sara prayed that that was the end of it. "So, huh, you're going to see him again?" he asked, after a moment in quiet contemplation.

"I'm sure our paths'll cross again at some point," she replied, laughing, "but not in the near future no. He's headed back to San Diego tomorrow some time." To hide the sudden discomfort her words had triggered, Sara focused her attention back on the road and ignoring Greg's many curious glances kept silent the rest of the way.

On their return at the lab, Greg went to log in their evidence while Sara made straight for her office. On her desk, a neat pile of phone messages waited for her. She picked them up, slowly flicked through them, balled and tossed a few she didn't need to act on, and then paused when she reached the last one. Heather Kessler had called at 22.35, asking for Sara to call back and leaving her cell number. Anytime, the message read. Sara checked her watch and arched her brow. It was three in the morning, and briefly she contemplated taking her up on her 'Anytime' and calling her right then.

Shaking her head, she was about to ball up the message and toss it in the trash with the others when she decided not to. She set it aside, sat down at her desk and turned her computer on. What could Heather want, she wondered? And more importantly, what could Heather have to say that she would want to hear? As the hours passed and she worked, her eyes kept drifting to the message. Her curiosity was piqued, she couldn't deny it.

The end of shift came and went, and Sara remained at her desk, signing off on cases and lab tests requests, typing memos and returning emails. With a sigh, she picked up Heather's enigmatic message and stared at it once more. What if the call was case related, she wondered then? Before she could change her mind, she picked up her desk phone, dialled Heather's number and began to compose her opening sentence. She'd keep her tone professional, her voice free of emotion. On the fourth ring, just as Sara was expecting the call to go to voicemail, Heather picked up. Her voice was soft and raspy, and Sara wondered whether she'd got her out of bed.

Sara cleared her voice. "Heather, it's Sara Sidle here, returning your call?"

"Oh. Hello, Sara."

"You sound…surprised. This isn't a bad time, is it?"

"No, not at all. I just…" Heather gave an uneasy laugh, "Well, I guess I wasn't expecting you to call back, that's all."

Sara took a breath, counted to five, so as not to show her impatience. "So what can I do for you? Is it pertaining to the case?"

"The case? Oh, no." There was a moment's pause. "No. I was wondering if maybe you'd agree to meet me. I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

Sara's face registered surprise. That she hadn't expected. "Couldn't we…talk on the phone?" she asked. "I'm still at work and…"

"I'd rather do it in person."

Well, I wouldn't, Sara thought, but didn't say. "Is it about Grissom?" she asked, already on the defensive, "Because if it is, then I think we've said everything there is to say."

Heather took a breath. "I―I wanted to apologise to you, Sara," she said. "For being so hostile yesterday during the interview."

"Oh."

"I was out of place and…said some things I had no right to say to you."

Sara frowned. "Did Grissom put you up to this?"

"Grissom?" Heather repeated with obvious surprise. "No. He didn't. He doesn't know I'm calling, and I'd rather keep it that way. Sara, during the interrogation I led you to believe that I love Grissom, and I do, but not in the way I implied. Certainly not in the way you love him, and he loves you. I was angry and I lashed out, at you, because you were an easy target."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Heather let out a long breath. "Because what I said to you wasn't fair on Grissom. I know how you feel about me, and about my friendship with your—"

Heather stopped talking abruptly, and Sara understood she was about to say husband.

"Grissom isn't happy, hasn't been for some time," Heather went on. "And I fear my comments have made matters worse between you."

Heather paused, but unsure how to respond Sara remained silent.

"Listen, Sara," Heather said impatiently, "you've got to get yourself off that high horse of yours and back to the ground with the rest of us. We all make mistakes – some we can rectify, others not, and certainly not before it's too late. You'd do well to remember it. I won't take any more of your time. Thank you for returning my call."

And with that, Heather hung up. Sara stared at the phone numbly for a long time as she tried to process what Heather had said before she finally hung up too and returned to her work. Mindless paperwork would be sure to take her mind off her worries. But try as she might, she couldn't get focused. Heather's words kept playing in her mind.

She was thinking of calling it a day when she felt eyes on her – his eyes on her. She looked up and found Grissom leaning against the door frame, staring at her with a soft smile on his face. He wore the same dark pants he'd been wearing for their dinner, but had swapped the button-down shirt for a polo shirt. A visitors' badge was clipped to the waistband of his pants.

"Hey," she said, surprised by the impromptu visit, her weariness immediately dissipating.

"Hey," he returned quietly, the smile growing on his lips. "It's strange seeing you that side of the desk."

Sara gave an uneasy laugh. "It's strange sitting on that side of the desk." She paused. "You're here on business?"

He laughed. "No. I—I came by to see you actually, drop something off." He glanced behind him hesitantly, then stepped inside her office, a wide smile forming as his gaze veered to a point beyond her. "Wow!" he said excitedly, his eyes finding hers. "You kept her all these years?"

Sara winced. "Hodges did. He brought her back yesterday."

"Good old Hodges." Grissom smiled, shook his head, then turned back toward her. "Anyways, I…" He reached inside his pocket, removed a business card and gave her a guilty look. "I wanted to give you this. I forgot earlier. It's got all my details on the back."

Frowning, Sara took the proffered card and stared at the contact details for Ocean Peace. On the back, he'd written an address in San Diego. Her heart sank at the thought that his new life wasn't always at sea and maybe included a new love. There was so much she still didn't know.

"It's a small one-bedroom apartment I'm renting," he said, when she made herself look up. "I've only had it few months and I'm hardly ever there, but it's a base. So…if ever you were headed San Diego way, let me know. The management company that looks after the place when I'm not there has a key." His shoulder rose awkwardly. "Obviously."

Sara managed a small smile and a nod. "Thank you," she said, raising the card in his eye line.

She was about to mention it wouldn't be any time soon on account of how short-staffed the lab was, but didn't. He'd taken another step, and now it was her turn. Before she could think too much about it, she reached over and gave him a hug, one he returned warmly when he'd recovered from his surprise. Tears stood poised in Sara's eyes, but she held on to them.

After exchanging another round of warm parting words and take cares Grissom left and Sara slumped down onto her chair. She heaved a deep sigh and stared at his address on the card for a long time before looking up toward her open door.

"Grissom isn't happy, hasn't been for some time," echoed in her head. "And I fear my comments have made matters worse between you."

Had Heather really called to apologise? Or was it just a front? And why would she betray Grissom's confidence like she had? And to her, of all people? She frowned. Why should Heather care if their failed relationship worsened, unless she knew it mattered to Grissom? Was that why she'd become so short when faced with Sara's non-response?

Her heartbeat quickening, Sara stood up and rushed out of her office. Hopefully, Grissom would still be around, catching up with one of the techs. She checked all the labs, outside too, but saw no signs of him. Breathless, she retraced her steps inside, stopped by the front desk, only to be told what she already knew, that he'd already left. She was headed back to her office when she walked past the evidence locker and stopped.

She was going to make herself walk on when she hesitated. What else had Heather said, she wondered now, remembering Lindsey's and later Catherine's pleas for her to view the video recording of Heather's statement? Blowing out a breath, she went in and signed out the box of evidence pertaining to Heather's case, took it back to her office and found the padded envelope with Heather's name on it.

Should she watch it, she wondered again? Would it cause more harm than good? And what could it tell her that she didn't already know?