"I can't wait to take you out on my boat," Grissom said out of the blue, his voice melancholy. "When you visit. Whenever that is," he added, smiling as he turned his head toward her. "I'll take you fishing."

"Fishing, huh?" The wide smile dancing across her lips belied the bored tone in her voice.

Laughing, he nodded his head vigorously. "You'll love it."

And as she stared at him, at the sparkle in his eyes, she thought that she probably would. Just to spend a little time with him, alone, away from it all. They both knew it wouldn't be for some time – three months at the very least – but that couldn't be helped. She told him she'd wait, and she would. They both would. She'd already waited over two years and she could—would wait another three months. It would take patience and compromise for them to make their relationship work, and honesty if they weren't to fall in the same traps as before.

"I'll be there when you dock," she said, her smile tender now. "Providing you keep in touch and let me know when exactly that is."

His face lit up suddenly. "You try and stop me. Even if I have to toss a bottle out to sea."

She pulled a face. "I was kind of hoping you'd use more conventional methods, but I'll take what I can get."

Laughing he tightened his hold around her shoulder then pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and cherishing this last moment of togetherness before he'd need to leave she snuggled against him. She'd take some time off, a couple of weeks maybe, more if the lab could cope. She hadn't taken any proper leave in more than a year, and she was already looking forward to spending that time with him. She felt more at peace and contented now than she had in the last few years. Certainly not since the breakup and subsequent divorce, but even long before that when resentment had begun to set in and sour their relationship.

The smile lingering on her face, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine him sailing the seven seas. It was so far removed from his past life in Vegas, or even from the life she'd known with him when they lived abroad, that she had a hard time picturing it. "Is it big?" she asked after a while.

He shifted under her, and she reopened her eyes. The raised brow and amused twitch of his lips told her in no uncertain terms where his mind had taken him.

"Your boat," she qualified, laughing. "I'm talking of your boat. I'm trying to picture it, and you in it. You know, so that when my thoughts wander and I think of you I have this clear picture in my mind. So, how big is it?"

His smile softened. His gaze became distant as he turned it up to the ceiling. "Not very. Not really." He chuckled to himself. "But it's fast and reliable. You've seen Jaws, right?"

A frown on her face, Sara pushed up on an elbow. "The film?"

He looked over at her and nodded. "Well, my boat's a little like that."

Sara pinched her lips to stifle her smile. "The boat that's not nearly big enough?"

He laughed. "Which is precisely why I took the condo. So that when I'm in town I can stretch out and have a proper night's sleep." He sighed, then reached a hand out to brush unruly hair from her face. "It's the best thing, though, Sara. Going out to sea. Being at sea. I love it. Despite all its dangers, it's just so…freeing." He paused and stared at her intently. "If I were a younger man, I'd get into sailing – proper sailing. Like, on a sailboat." He seemed about to say more, but stopped himself.

"What?" she prompted, smiling softly.

Looking sheepish, he shrugged his shoulder. "Sometimes, I close my eyes and imagine us on that sailboat that doesn't exist, hopping from port-to-port and just…happy."

Taken aback by the candour of his words, Sara could only stare at him speechless. It really moved her that all this time, even though they were divorced and with presumably no chances of getting back together, he'd been thinking of them as a couple.

"I don't think one is ever too old to learn," she mused, holding his gaze earnestly. "If that's what makes you happy, you should go for it."

Grissom's face lit up with surprise. "Yeah?"

Smiling softly, she nodded her head. He folded his arm under his head and settled his eyes on a point on the ceiling. He didn't speak for some time, but when he did his voice was soft, introspective, but full of passion.

"The feelings you get, the freedom that comes with just leaving land, with heading out to the unknown…" he began and didn't stop.

Once again his enthusiasm was contagious, his descriptions vivid, and as she listened to him talk Sara's gaze became distant, her smile fond, wistful, almost envious. She'd loved her time on the Sea Sheppard, even if occasional rough seas and her broken heart had made for a tough trip. She was glad he wasn't censoring himself to spare her feelings. He'd made himself a new life, one that made him happy, one she couldn't wait to be a part of.

All too soon Grissom fell silent, seemingly getting lost in his own thoughts. And she was content to let him. Then he shifted on the bed and sighed. And she knew he'd looked at the bedside clock and that it was time they got up and he got ready and packed – which she guessed wouldn't take long. She wouldn't make it hard for him; it wouldn't be fair, and strangely enough she felt at peace with the situation.

"I'll make us some breakfast," she said, getting out of bed and slipping on her robe. "You need to eat something before you leave and I'm hungry."

Grissom opened his mouth to argue, but then simply nodded his head and got up too. He picked up his underwear off the floor and gave her a smile. "I got a bunch of stuff in yesterday when you were sleeping," he said, slipping his boxers on.

Sara tied the sash of her robe around her waist. "You took the car?"

He paused. "You mind?"

She smiled. "Not at all."

He held her gaze briefly before reaching for the rest of his clothes and Sara watched with a heavy heart as he got dressed before she headed to the kitchen. On the way, she opened all the curtains and blinds and let some welcome sunshine in. She was perusing the extensive content of the fridge when he joined her.

"This is more than getting a bunch of stuff in," she said when he reached past her for the carton of juice.

"I got carried away." He shrugged. "I wish we'd had more time, that's all."

"Me too," she said, turning toward him.

Her smile trembled, and she almost asked him what stopped him from staying another day in Vegas with her, but she'd promise herself she wouldn't make any demands or put pressure on him and so she didn't. He couldn't stay, and she couldn't go with him, period. They'd find a way, even if it took time.

They put together a quick seafood stir-fry and prepared two lots of packed lunches to take with them. They ate quickly and mostly in silence. When he wasn't glancing at the oven clock, she'd catch him watching her, and she'd give him a smile he would invariably return. She'd wonder at his thoughts then, at whether he was checking the time because he was eager to go and didn't want to miss his flight, or because he didn't want to leave but had to. She hoped for the latter.

She thought about telling him her last secret, the one that kept her from being truly happy. But she was so ashamed of how she'd acted then, so scared of how he would react, that the words didn't come. Would he feel hurt and angry? Betrayed even? God knows she would feel all these things if the roles were reversed.

Yes, she'd been all over the place emotionally and she'd been used, tricked and duped, but it still didn't excuse her behaviour, her weakness, how easily she'd fallen into Basderic's trap. She'd sought human contact in the wrong place, from the wrong man, and had paid a hefty price for it. Was still paying that price now, or else why feel so wretched just thinking of it?

"You go get ready," he said, pushing to his feet and gathering their plates when they'd finished, "while I clear up here."

Sara checked the time, nodded her head. She was turning to leave when the doorbell rang. Startling, she looked over at Grissom, who a smile slowly spreading across his face moved to get the door.

"Do you know who it is?" she asked, frowning in puzzlement as she followed him through to the lounge.

"Maybe," he replied, his expression playful, almost giddy, and Sara's frowned deepened.

Grissom looked through the peephole and then enthusiastically opened the door to a black-leather-clad and helmeted courier.

"Mr Grissom?"

"That's me," Grissom said brightly, glancing over his shoulder and winking at Sara.

Sara watched with growing bewilderment as Grissom signed his name to a proffered tablet before taking receipt of a small, flat package. Had he purchased something online and asked for it to be delivered there before he left? If that was the case, he was cutting it fine.

Grissom thanked the guy and closed the door. Smiling widely, he turned back to Sara. "It's for you," he said, handing her the packet.

Her expression went from confusion to surprise and then back again. "But…I'm not expecting anything."

He shrugged, then placed the packet in her hands. "Go on, open it."

After a moment's pause, Sara went to sit on the couch and with shaky hands did as bid. She pulled the cardboard tab off to open the box, took out a thin, long rectangular item wrapped in several layers of tissue paper and looked up to Grissom with surprise.

Grissom made a pout. "I agree," he said with mock irritation. "They could have boxed it up."

Sara stared at him with disbelief, and he gave her an encouraging nod of the head. Turning her attention back to the present – was that what it was? – she carefully unwrapped each layer of tissue paper until she uncovered her teardrop pendant and chain. Lost for words, she raised astonished eyes to him.

"I had it fixed for you," he said, matter-of-fact, and her look of surprise finally morphed into a wide grin. "Dropped it off yesterday when I went grocery shopping."

She hadn't even realised it had gone missing from the table. She felt tears of happiness rise suddenly, but she held on to them. Grissom gently prised the pendant out of her hands and sitting down on the couch next to her motioned for her to turn so that she had her back to him. Delicately, he moved her hair out of the way, then clasped the pendant shut around her neck. Bringing a trembling hand to her chest, Sara turned toward him.

"The guy did a good job," he said. "It's as good as new."

Holding the pendant in place, Sara smiled then moved for a kiss on the lips. "Thank you," she said, pulling back.

Smiling, Grissom cupped his hand to her face before she could move back completely, and after watching her intently for a few seconds closed the distance for another kiss, longer, deeper and filled with passion and resolve. "Three and a half months," he said. "Four at the most, and I'll be back. And we'll move forward then, I promise."

Her face beaming with love and pleasure alike, she gave a vigorous nod. "I know, and I can't wait."

Some twenty minutes later they were on the road, and another twenty minutes after that stuck in traffic a mile or so away from the airport. Sara tuned the car radio to a local station which promptly informed them of a road traffic accident which had shut two lanes of the I-15 northbound near the exit to McCarran airport. Emergency services were on the scene. Traffic was moving at a crawl, there was nowhere for them to get off, and frustrated by their slow progress Sara banged her hands on the steering wheel.

"We still got plenty of time," he said. "Relax."

Sara pulled a face, and he laughed. Turning her attention back to the car in front, she craned her neck to see if traffic was moving anywhere. It wasn't. Grissom leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He looked serene, if a little tired, but quite untroubled by the situation, and she wondered when he'd learned to be like that.

Restless, she switched radio stations until she got one that was playing music, turned the sound right down. Being stuck in traffic didn't help, but she knew her edginess didn't stem from that. She wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye, she'd never been good at it, neither of them was, could never find the words to express how they felt, but she hoped that this time wouldn't be as heart-wrenching as it was at the start of their long-distance relationship or as awkward as it became toward the end.

She realised then that she couldn't let him leave without telling him the truth. How could they start afresh with that time bomb ticking over their heads? She fingered the teardrop pendant around her neck, took strength from it. There was her chance to confess all, and she took it.

"Gil, before you leave," she said, turning toward him, "There's something I need to tell you."

Frowning, he opened his eyes, raised his head from the headrest to look at her.

She gave him a tentative smile. "I know I should have told you at the first opportunity, but well…it never seemed like the right time." Pausing, she flicked her eyes away then back to his face. "If it's going to work between us this time round, we need to make some changes, right?"

Grissom's gaze narrowed imperceptibly. With fear maybe?

"There can't be any doubts or secrets," she went on, before he could respond. "We need to be totally honest with each other. We can't be second-guessing the other like we did before." She paused, then sighed and went for broke. "After we broke up I hit rock bottom…"

Pain filled Grissom's features. "Sara—"

She raised her hand toward him, indicating that he should let her finish. "…and I was vulnerable. There was this guy, this scumbag sociopath I was watching that was stalking Edie, you know, the waitress from Frank's Diner? I helped her get a restraining order against him."

Frowning, Grissom shrugged that he didn't remember.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. Edie died, she was killed at the diner, murdered, and I was convinced he'd done it. Killed her. Turned out he didn't. Anyways, a few months later he went after me—framed me for a murder he committed."

Grissom nodded his head. "Sara—"

"No, let me finish. I need to say this."

He sighed and stared at her, then finally, reluctantly, nodded his head before flicking his eyes to the still stationary traffic ahead.

Despite how difficult it was, Sara made herself continue. "The thing is," she went on hesitantly, "a couple of weeks prior to that I'd kissed the guy. The guy he killed. Taylor Wynard was his name. He was someone I'd met at a bar. I thought it was fortuitous, but I was being set up."

Grissom kept his gaze looking forward.

"I was drinking and…" She sighed. "I'm not trying to make excuses, but it happened. It was nothing. It meant nothing. His attention was flattering and I was feeling low…it was a mistake, and I put a stop to it straightaway."

Grissom swallowed, turned his head toward her. "Sara, I don't need you to tell me this."

"You do."

"No, I don't. Sara, I already know about Basderic, and Wynard."

Sara's eyes filled. "You do?" she asked with disbelief.

Again he swallowed and nodded his head.

Refocusing on the car in front, Sara gave a wry smile. "Jim told you."

"No, he didn't." She looked over at him sharply, and he sighed. "Not at first anyway."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then how did you find out? Not Greg or Nick…Hodges?"

He shook his head. "This guy, Basderic, he emailed me the picture of you and Wynard."

Sara felt sick at the thought.

"The email came from your account so I opened it."

"He hacked into it."

"I know. I only got the email once everything was over. Several weeks had passed by then. I called Brass, and he told me what had happened, that the guy was behind bars already, that you were slowly getting over it. I didn't want to make it worse for you, so I told him to keep schtum and I stayed away."

Sara wiped the tears from her eyes.

"As far as I'm concerned it's water under the bridge, Sara," he said, almost impatiently. "We both made mistakes, we've established that. But we're starting afresh, alright? Clean slate. So we forget about it. All of it."

She gave a nervous laugh. "Just like that?"

He gave her a slow nod of the head. "Just like that. Don't you think we've already wasted enough time?"

Sara took in a breath she let out slowly. Could it be that easy, she wondered then? Could they just draw a line under the whole thing and start again?

The car behind sounded its horn, and startling Sara refocused on the road and the moving traffic ahead. Quickly, she put the Prius in drive and moved forward a hundred yards or so before stopping again and checking the time on the dash clock.

"Gil, I don't know if we're going to make it," she said, tensely.

Grissom whipped his head round in shock.

The confusion in his eyes gave her pause. "Your flight?"

His expression softened, then he smiled and shook his head. "I thought you meant..." His smile widened. "We'll be fine," he said with certainty, and Sara wanted to believe that his words encompassed a lot more than just getting to the airport in time. "We're almost there now; I can see the lights of the emergency vehicles. Besides, I don't have any luggage to check in. You can just drop me off outside departures, and I'll go straight through."

Sara swallowed her disappointment. "I was hoping to park and come in with you." She kept her gaze looking straight ahead to the car in front so he wouldn't notice her growing emotion.

Grissom reached his hand to her thigh, gave it a warm pat. "It'll fly by," he said, softly. "You mark my words."

Blinking, she nodded her head, but still didn't look at him.

"Look at me, Sara," he bid quietly. His hand moved to her chin, gently coaxing her face round toward him. She gave him a watery smile, and he swallowed. "I'm sorry I can't stay any longer," he said. "I know there's still a lot we've got to deal with. If I could, I would but—"

She reached out her hand to cover his mouth, cutting his words short. "No. No ifs or buts, we've agreed. This is the situation for the time being, and I'm happy with it. I'm just…sad." Her eyes filled again and she wiped at them, then smiled through her tears at the idiocy of what she'd just said. "I'm going to miss you."

Grissom's smile was fond and tender. "And I'll miss you."

The line of traffic moved again, and they fell silent as finally they passed the crash site. As soon as she could Sara put her foot down the rest of the way, eventually pulling up outside departures. There, a traffic agent motioned for her to move on. She ignored him. Grissom opened the car door and grabbed his backpack from the backseat. Pausing, he turned toward her, and their lips met in a soft, quick kiss.

"I'll call you when I get there," he said, getting out of the car.

"I'm counting on it."

He shouldered his backpack, then holding the car door open leaned in. "I love you," he said in a whisper.

Sara gave him a shaky smile. He hesitated briefly, then raised his hand in an uncertain goodbye and shut the door. Quickly, before he could be swallowed by the crowds milling around, Sara undid her seatbelt and got out of the car.

"Gil," she called, breathless as she ran around the hood.

He stopped, then turned and a smile breaking opened his arms out to her. The crowds, the noise of traffic and soaring aeroplanes, the announcements playing over the PA system, it all receded into the background, and for a brief moment it was just the two of them in each other's arms, before grudgingly she made herself pull back.

"Stay safe," she said, brushing her hands to his face.

He cracked a smile. "You too."

She nodded, swallowed the lump in her throat and then glancing all around them uncertainly took a step back from him. "I'll see you soon."

With a hard swallow he nodded his head, then forced another smile before he turned his back and made his way inside the terminal through the crowd. And as she watched him go, Sara wished she could go with him. The traffic agent spoke to her, motioned for her to move the car before he gave her a ticket, and refocusing she turned and nodded her head. Then she got back into the car, drove to the lab on autopilot and once there went through the motions dutifully.

Three months – he said it would fly by.

She wasn't so sure.