A/N: Hey guys. Well this is a momentous occasion and my little ficlet is celebrating it's four year anniversary, yay! Lol. Wow, four years. Can't honestly believe I have been writing this that long.

I would like to thank you all for your support and sticking with my story all this time. Hopefully it won't take me another four years to finish it :D (It won't btw).

Huge kudos to my partner in crime SSC for her big input and beta on this chapter. She saved me from beating myself over the pish I was writing. You truly are my savior.

So let's see how are favorite couple are getting on…

Chapter 102

Grissom met with Ecklie and the two men rode into town. Grissom ensured he had ample protection for the ride as did his companion. Both carried side arms as well as a rifle each.

Even though it was a night of socializing, every man knew if you were out, you carried some measure of protection. Especially with men like McKeen about.

Town was still reasonably busy when they arrived. Late night market stalls were still open, selling items for the Halloween festivities as well as refreshment for the town's people and those still out looking to have a good time.

Whether you were with friends or family, drunk or sober the stalls offered all you could need for a chilly autumn evening and a good old time…

Roast chestnuts, hog roast, hot apple cider, corn cobs, chili, pumpkin pie, mulled wine, roasted sweet potatoes and a variety of candy were just a few of the delicious items on offer.

As they pulled up outside the saloon, Grissom's eye fell upon the candy stall and he considered buying Sara a gift on his way home. Maybe it would cheer her up a little and he remembered how she had bought him licorice all that time ago.

His stomach rumbled as he tied Dante to the beams outside the bar and he remembered he hadn't had dinner. His search for Sara had taken his mind off any thought of food. Now though, his body had remembered the absence of food.

"Hungry, Gil?" Conrad asked, securing his own horse.

Grissom looked at him. "Why do you ask?"

Conrad laughed, "Because I heard your stomach rumble from here."

"Oh…" Grissom patted Dante. "Be good," he warned his horse. "I shouldn't be too long."
Dante snorted happily and stuck his head into the food trough.

"I'm… a little peckish…" Grissom admitted. "Kinda missed dinner."

"Yeah…" Conrad checked his fire arm and then straightened out his coat. "…a few of us did. Want to get some food?"

Grissom's eyes passed over the surrounding market place again. "Sure," he replied.

Conrad smiled and the two men followed the delightful aroma's that were filling the town center with a cheerful, homely vibrancy…

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Sara paced back and forth in her room, biting on her nails. The slightest thought of sleep had evaporated from her mind. She couldn't bear the idea of being cooped up, even in the welcoming cocoon of her bedroom. Since her captivity at McKeen's mansion, she hated being indoors...detested the idea of closed doors and locked windows. Outside was different, wide open spaces, fresh clean air, the vast expanse of ground and sky.

When she had made her escape, for a few moments, she had been free. But Hank had caught her and he dragged her back into the tomb of a house, locked behind the heavy door.

And later…later when she was helpless and pinned down upon the mattress. When she felt his weight upon her form and the invasion within her body, there was that locked door that prevented her egress even if she could get away.

It was strange, she thought. In the days following Hank's attack, she could scarcely remember it. But now, within the confines of her own happy home, the memories began trickling back. Now she could remember the details, like how the carvings of the furniture fascinated her and how for a few moments she couldn't even breathe.

Her mother entered, Rana following carrying a tray. The housekeeper placed the tray of food on Sara's desk and left the room.

"The water is going to take a while for your bath, so food first," Laura directed.

"I'm not hungry," Sara stated, facing her mother.

Laura stepped forward with a purpose. "You need to eat."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Sure…" she muttered sarcastically to herself, turning away. "Like…there's a point."

"Don't give me that tone, young lady," Laura warned, her voice becoming more serious. "If you are looking for a point, how about the concern of the entire estate and how they were trying to find you this evening?"

Spinning back around Sara glared at her mother. "I didn't ask for their concern," she growled back. "I used to wander the estate at will, why can't I now?"

Laura tapped her foot upon the rug. "Sara, you are still recovering. You heard what the doctor said. Your lungs are permanently damaged. There are limits now to what you can do. You are not supposed to be in cold air, you aren't supposed to be in the stables for long periods of time. I can hear you wheezing now."

"That doesn't mean that I need a babysitter," Sara protested, angry that another soft wheeze escaped as she did so.

"You have scared us to death, Sara." Laura retaliated. "Until you can act like you have some respect for our concern..."

"I don't want your concern," Sara spat icily, knowing that later she would regret it, but not caring at the moment. "I want to be left alone."

"Even by Gil?" Laura challenged.

"Yes," she lied, but only halfway.

Laura sighed. "What's bothering you? You used to never be like this." She moved closer to her daughter.

"Like this?" Sara's eyes narrowed. "Mother, right now I wish I was anyone else but me. I wish I had died that night,"

"Sara!" Laura almost screamed.

Sara's hand shot up, the anger white hot. "Why are you pretending it doesn't matter? They made an example out of me in Sunday school. I can't even go to church. How can you ask me to move on? My life is ruined. You treat me different. I've lost Grissom cause while he's in town..."

A thought intruded upon her mind, heavy...suffocating. Gil was in town, probably at Heathers. She told him to go... Where people would be.

She'd ruined things yet again.

She bit her lip, tasting blood, but she only bit harder. The tears began to slip from their ducts.

"Sara," Laura pleaded, the words dying on her lips. She couldn't bring herself to utter the words. But her daughter was angering her, as much as she was breaking her heart.

"Sara," she tried again. "We just want to help."

Sara shook her head. "I don't need anybody's help."

"Fine." Laura slapped her hands to her hips. "Suit yourself, carry on being stubborn but until you decide to start acting like an adult then you are confined to the house once darkness falls."

"What?" Sara blinked in disbelief.

"You heard me."

Sara's nostrils flared. "You can't do that! You can't keep me here," she fought.

Laura's firmness continued. "You live under my roof, you abide by my rules. So yes, Sara, I can." Turning, she headed for the door but stopped as she reached it, facing Sara again. "Eat your dinner, bathe and get some sleep. We can discuss this further in the morning once we are both a little calmer."

She walked through the door and closed it softly behind her.

Closed the door just like Hank and McKeen had done.

Her own mother had imprisoned her. And while Laura's motivations were nobler...Sara still felt trapped.

Her bottom lip quivered as she fought the pang of tears burning her eyes. But the anger inside her prevented those tears from falling. She was not going to be kept in the house, she couldn't stay here. They couldn't understand.

Without a moment's hesitation she rushed to the largest of her bedroom windows and pushed it open. The frigid air rushed in and Sara took several cleansing breaths. Just feeling the air, breathing it, made her feel a little better.

Poking her head out the window she looked down. Numerous wall lanterns lit on the houses outer walls offered her enough light to see the trellis below her window. Sucking in a deep breath she made her decision and climbed out onto the small window ledge, reaching to her left to grab the curving trellis that gave the house its unmistakable décor.

It had been some years since she'd climbed from her window. She'd done it on many an occasion as a child for one reason or another. She hoped it was as easy now as it was then.

Sadly it wasn't. As she began her descent, her foot slipped and she only just managed to remain clinging to the woodwork. She looked up and then down, a shadow of doubt flushing through her mind as to whether she could make the climb or not. She actually didn't realize exactly how weak she'd become. Twisting her mouth, she redoubled her efforts.

Gathering all the strength she could, she tried again and continued her descent sighing with relief once she reached the bottom and the ground found her feet…

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Feeling content after a hearty dinner of chili and sweet potatoes, Grissom and Ecklie entered the saloon. It was busy and loud, the room bursting with music from the piano in the corner and laughter boomed with the occasional shout.

Ale and spirits flowed like a waterfall, Heather's girls swarming the room, topping up glasses before they were even empty. Most got fondled one way or another for their efforts. But the girls smiled or laughed along with their customers.

As Grissom and Conrad entered the room suddenly silenced some, numerous chairs squeaking and heads turning in their direction. This had been the first time since the events at the Grove that Grissom had ventured into a social facility and he felt rather uncomfortable at the dozens of pairs of eyes that had suddenly fallen upon him.

"Well if it isn't the local hero!" one voice bellowed from the back but it wasn't in a bad way. At least people were smiling at him, well, most were, but still, he would rather not have the attention. He didn't consider himself a hero.

He faked a smile then cleared his throat. "Maybe this wasn't such a great idea," he mumbled as numerous voices bellowed their agreement to the previous comment.

Conrad just laughed. "Gil, you can't hide at the Grove your entire life. You know what people are like…just, go with it."

Grissom didn't have a chance to answer as a very familiar face appeared in his line of sight and took all his attention.

Heather…and she was looking right at him.

She smiled as she started towards him.

"Well, hello," she mewed when she reached him. "This is a rather unexpected pleasure."

He smiled unable to help it.

"Come…" Heather took his arm and he allowed her. "I'll find you both a table."

The rancher let himself be guided through the busy establishment and Conrad followed. All eyes now turned away and the place's volume level heightened again.

"You have become quite the celebrity," Heather said as they walked.

The rancher blushed. "I doubt that," he responded.

"Always and forever the modest one," she scoffed, rubbing her hand up his arm. "You do however, feel very tense. I have a beautiful girl that would be the perfect cure."

He looked at her and again she smiled.

They came across a table in the corner. One man sat at it, well, slumped over it. His head in the centre, his drink spilled and his eyes closed.

"Shamus!" Heather called and in an instant a rather bulk, scowling looking man was at her side.

"Yes, Ma'am?" His tone was deep and almost growling but obedient. Grissom deterred he must be new muscle for the saloon and the man looked like someone you simply did not mess with.

Heather pointed to the unconscious man. "Kindly escort Billy out would you. I think he's had enough."

He nodded and was swift to grab the smaller man sleeping at the table.

The sleeping man startled as he was literally hauled to his feet by the back of his jacket. "What…the….umm…erm…" was just about all he could mumble before he came nose to nose with Shamus and then he froze.

"Home time, Billy?" Heather politely requested.

"Ugh huh…" the drunken man gargled. He wobbled as Shamus led him quietly towards the exit and Heather laughed.

The saloon owner clapped her hands. "Clean up!" she called and in an instant the messy table was set upon by two girls and cleaned within seconds.

Heather gestured to the table. "Sit," she requested.

With one brow raised at the establishments speed and effort, Grissom slid into a chair. Conrad joined him, sitting in the chair besides and both men had a good look around.

"So what brings you gentlemen here this evening?" Heather enquired, "Business or pleasure?"

Grissom frowned and his glance shifted to his colleague. "I'm not exactly sure," he admitted.

"A little bit of both…in a way," Conrad said.

"In that case…" Heather continued, "…I will leave you for a while to get on with your business. What can I get you to drink?"

Licking his lips, Grissom pondered. "Just a single bourbon for me."

Conrad laughed. "Just a single?"

Grissom offered him a smile and nodded. "For now. I'm here to try and relax, not get wasted. And I'm working tomorrow."

"Fair enough," Conrad replied. "I'll have the same," he continued. "But, a double. I have the day off tomorrow."

"Coming right up," Heather snorted and she was away.

Leaning forwards in his chair, Grissom entwined his fingers. "So, what's this all about?"

Clearing his throat, Conrad shuffled in his chair. "We've known each other a long time haven't we, Gil?"

Grissom ran his thumb over his beard and nodded.

"And…" Conrad continued, "…we haven't exactly had the friendliest of relationships over the years have we?"

Now Grissom frowned, unsure of where this was all going.

Their drinks arrived. "Here we go boys," their server said, lifting two glasses from her stocked tray and placing them down on the table. Grissom took his drink and sipped it lightly while watching Conrad as he grabbed his glass and downed the contents in one. "Same again please," he requested, wiping his mouth on his sleeve."

"Sure thing, Hun," the woman said with a smile on her face. She took another glass from her tray and replaced the empty one. "Ya'll need anything…anything at all…" She gently swiped her hand over Conrad's shoulder, "…you just give me a call and I'll be right on over." She gave Grissom a wink and another smile before turning to attend to the table behind.

Grissom's right brow soared skywards. "Anyway…" He shook his head, "…you were saying?"

Conrad half laughed into his second glass of bourbon.

"What?" Grissom questioned.

"You and your way with the ladies," Conrad commented, placing his now half empty glass down.

The rancher shrugged innocently. "I don't get what you mean."

Conrad laughed again.

"Every woman in this building, more than likely, wants to bed you and would do so without a moment's hesitation and they'd probably do it for free."

"Well…" Grissom ran a finger over the top of his glass, "…that's a nice assumption but highly unnecessary. I already have all the woman I'm ever going to need."

Sipping from his glass now Conrad smiled, albeit a little sadly.

"Speaking of which…" Grissom half smiled back and pulled his watch from his pocket. "…I don't want to be too long, if you don't mind. Something I need to do…So…"

The worker held up a hand now. "Okay, okay…Um…Well…" Conrad sipped from his drink again, "…I wanted to apologize."

Grissom looked confused. "Why?" he asked.

Conrad downed what was left in his glass. "I know what happened to my sister…What, really happened."

"Oh…" Grissom felt a lump swell in his throat. "After all that's happened since the events at McKeen's…I…totally forgot…"

The younger man waved his hand, evidently ready for another drink. He was quickly set upon by the same waitress and she handed him another glass of bourbon.

"Anything for you handsome?" she asked Grissom.

Grissom shook his head. "No…nothing at all…thank you."

The woman smiled after batting her eye lashes and was away again.

"The…" Conrad hiccupped after another swig of drink, "…Sheriff told me when he came to the estate after you'd left for home. One of McKeen's goons blurted it out to him hoping for some form of mercy after his arrest. I went through all these years blaming you for…"

Holding up a hand Grissom halted the conversation. "Stop," he said. "Please. This isn't necessary."

Conrad sighed. "I think it is. I blamed you for a death you didn't cause and…"

"No, Conrad," the rancher cut him off again. "I'm done with pain caused by events gone. No more past, no more regrets. Just, the future…on all our parts. We make our own happiness from now on and what is to come is now under our control. No one can take that from us anymore." He finished his drink in a swift gulp. "I understand and I get what you are saying, okay? But it's done and we can't change it. I appreciate your apology though."

The younger man pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking. "You really do have serious intentions in regards to Sara?"

Grissom's posture suddenly straightened with surprise at the question. His eyes roamed his co workers. "I believe my intentions are quite obvious, so why do you ask?"

Conrad shrugged. "You know, rumors travel…"

Snorting, Grissom pushed his empty glass into the middle of the table. "Considering what happened with your sister, you're still listening to rumors?"

"No, but..." The younger man shook his head. "But if your intentions are truly sincere then you, I presume, will be relocating to the Grove on a permanent basis."

"Maybe…So?"

"So…" Conrad leaned forwards, "…I suppose…that means we will be working together..." He held his hand out. "To the future…and no more regrets…"

Grissom smiled at Conrad's gesture. This was the first time it seemed as if the two men were on the same page. Gladly, Grissom took the younger man's hand and shook it.

"We have a great future ahead," Conrad said, sitting back and relaxing for the first time since they had entered the establishment.

"I have no doubt," Grissom responded.

Conrad waved his hand for further service but this time it seemed all the girls were occupied. "Another drink?" he asked, standing. "I'll go get them."

Holding up a hand, Grissom shook his head. "No, thanks. I really have to get going." He looked around. "I'd like to say goodbye to Heather first though you…just go and enjoy yourself..."

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Sara had made her way to the outer stables despite what her mother had said. She'd been careful not to get spotted en route which wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. She'd forgotten about the constant guards on duty now but she'd managed to remain in the shadows and slipped through without notice.

That did make her feel a little uneasy though, if she could sneak around without getting caught, then what was to stop an outsider doing the same? She tried to push the thought from her mind, at least for now.

She noted on her route that work on the new stables was coming along well and they were almost finished now.

A pang of sadness hit her heart though when she slipped passed the building. The night of the fire ran through her mind, the loss of Melissa and the other horses and the fact that everything just went very much downhill from then on.

She didn't dawdle around the area however. For one, it was very cold and two, she didn't want to be seen. Sara wasn't stupid enough to know that if she was caught away from the house now, especially after what had happened earlier in the evening, no doubt ran through her mind that there would be hell to pay with her mother. On the other hand, she wasn't naive enough to believe her mother would not discover her absence at some point. She just hoped it was later rather than sooner.

She didn't relish another fight with her mother. A part of her was even angry for their earlier argument.

Now, she was inside the stables and had been for about half an hour. Having forgotten a coat, the winter's elements had very much urged her to wrap one of the horse's blankets around her shoulders. She didn't really care; it was warmer than being without it.

She stood inside Pandora's stall, two lanterns flickering around her, brushing her horse and trying to forget everything outside her immediate space. Pandora seemed to be enjoying the attention and the horse had recovered well from her overexertion those few weeks ago. Sara smiled, thinking how gentle and caring Grissom had been aiding Pandora in her recovery. She sniffed, suddenly feeling sad. She hadn't exactly made the evening an enjoyable one for anyone and she had encouraged Grissom to go out. A surge of anxiety over what he could find out filled her with dread.

What was worse was that she already missed him. Another surge of anger caused her to clench her fists.

"Stop it," she scolded herself.

Pandora poked her nose through a divide in the stall and had a sniff around Dante's stall next door. She snorted then stamped her foot before kinking her head to look at her owner. The horse neighed softly.

Sara patted her. "Don't worry, he'll be back."

The horse licked Sara's hand and snorted again.

Sara smiled again but her smile soon dissolved when a noise startled her. It sounded like the door creaking open. Her heart caught in her mouth as she slowly poked her head out of the stall to look around. But, she couldn't see anything.

Nervously, she reached to a mucking spade which leaned against the inside of the stall and cautiously stepped out of the chamber. "Hello…" she said quietly, holding the tool in a manner she could use it as a weapon should she chose to do so.

Nothing…

She frowned then jumped when Pandora appeared behind her and prodded her keeper with her nose.

"Hell…girl…" Sara moaned. "Don't scare me like that."

Pandora offered a gentle snort.

"Maybe…it was just the wind," Sara muttered to herself lowering the spade.

She sighed and led her horse back into her stall, placing the spade back where she'd found it.

It could have been the wind but, it wasn't. Sara failed to see the shadow looming inside the very first stall and the figure which hid inside it…

***"Afraid, in her extreme perturbation, of the loneliness of the deserted rooms, and of half-imagined faces peeping from behind every open door in them, she got a basin of cold water and began laving her eyes, which were swollen and red. Haunted by her feverish apprehensions, she could not bear to have her sight obscured for a minute at a time by the dripping water, but constantly paused and looked round to see that there was no one watching her. In one of those pauses she recoiled and cried out, for she saw a figure standing in the room." ***

***Extract taken from - A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (Paragraph adapted)

A/N: Hmmm, I love an angry Sara. Although I'm not sure whether it's a good thing or a bad thing. I'm thinking volcano and ready to blow, lol. Let me know what you think :)