A/N: First off, thank you to all who followed and reviewed this story along the way. I originally set out to write this to give myself closure for the GSR story and I hope I achieved that for you all as well. Anyway, this epilogue officially closes out my version of their story. I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

August 2047

"Dr. Grissom." Grissom smiled and stuck out his hand to the bashful girl.

"Dr. Grissom" She replied through a smile, shaking his hand as he pulled her into a tight hug.

"We are so proud of you." Grissom pressed his warm cheek to her soft brown hair.

Life had treated Grissom and Sara well. Blessed with two beautiful and intelligent children. Their eldest having just received her doctorate in anthropological studies from Stanford. Aurora had become a world traveler, spending months at a time hopping from country to country to explore, excavate and discover. Warrick, on the other hand, had indeed pursued a career as a criminalist, and had quickly earned his spot as Greg's number two in the Boston Crime Lab on his own merits.

Warrick wrapped Aurora up in a hug of his own once Grissom finally let go. "I'm so proud of you Rory." He smiled from ear to ear.

"Congratulations." The woman standing next to Warrick flashed a toothy grin her way and Aurora quickly embraced her.

"Look at you, Rachel!" Aurora spoke astonished. "Any day now right?"

"That's what they say." Warrick spoke proudly as he wrapped an arm around his pregnant wife, freeing up Aurora to be hugged by her mother.

Grissom stood back and watched the sight before him. His children were figuring life out much more gracefully than he had. At their age, he was still a socially awkward, academics absorbed loner who'd made little-to-no progress or effort toward emotionally connecting with other humans. In fact, as he began to think about it more, he hadn't even met Sara until he was 43 years old. And that was the moment he sited that he'd actually began living. And here, his youngest child was ten years younger than that, married with a child on the way.

Now in his 90's Grissom's mind was still sharp as a tack. A feat he contributed to the endless crossword puzzles over the years, to being intellectually stimulated and challenged by his co-workers, by Sara, and then by his own children. He watched as Sara slid a lock of Aurora's hair behind her ear. Smiling and showering her with praises. Praises he knew she'd never heard from her own parents. Tender touches and lovingly warm smiles that Sara had never experienced. And yet, she dished them as if they were second nature to her, as if she'd experienced their effect herself. He watched as she pushed her own graying hair behind her ear, and then pulled it up into a low pony-tail.

He smiled warmly at this, and caught a glimpse of the Golden Gate bridge behind her in the distance.

Warrick watched his father now, and nudged Rebecca to look on as well. There was so much love welled in his eyes and Grissom looked at Sara. Taking in every inch and movement. Warrick watched as his father's heart swelled. He moved to him and put an arm around him.

"I hope Aurora finds someone who looks at her the way you look at mom." He smiled, knowing that his father often worried about the men Aurora tended to date. absorbed, book-worm typed. Then again, as Sara often reminded him, that's exactly who Grissom was when they'd first gotten together.

He simply smiled at his son's statement.

A few weeks later the same group rejoined in another joyous occasion. The tiny whaling cries emanated from the small blue bundle held gently in Grissom's arms. Sara looked over his shoulder, touching the curly blonde locks of hair softly. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of new baby along with Sara's lavender scent from her close proximity to him.

Rachel looked on from the hospital bed as she sat up a bit. "His name is Abe Gilbert Grissom." She watched as her Father-in-law's lips began to curl upward, but he couldn't take his eyes off the child in his arms.

"So?" He heard Sara's soft voice and felt her warm breath on his cheek, "Did we achieve the full human experience?" Bits and pieces of his life with Sara began to flash before his eyes, specifically the first time he'd used that phrase with her, when he'd been trying to convince her to have a child with him. When they were in France together that one summer.

"Yes." He said smiling widely now and finally looking up, looking deep into his wife's brown chocolate orbs. Her eyes matching the same swell of emotion that held within his own deepening blue ones. "Yes, I believe we have."

A few years later Grissom passed on, peacefully in his sleep as the garden outside grew wildly and bustled with the life of insects and butterflies. A few years after that Sara moved to Boston to be close to Warrick, Rebecca and their now three children as well as Greg and Morgan. Aurora continued to travel the world and Eli had joined her on many of her excursions, studying climate change in many of the same terrains. As she looked for clues from the past, Eli studied the ways of our future.

Sara's life was filled with joy all around her. She'd taken up a part-time professorship at Harvard, teach physics in the same halls she was once a student. She watched her Grandchildren grow and learn. The eldest looking just like Gil, the middle-child behaved like him, and the youngest shared his love for bugs—a hobby Warrick had decided to introduce him to.

But each day that went by Sara missed him more. She often replayed the moments of their shared history in her mind. Knowing that in her minds-eye, he'd live on forever. And when the time came for herself, she was ready too. Feeling that she'd experienced all life had to offer, ready to rejoin Gil. Content with the knowledge that despite all odds, despite her upbringing and history, that she'd created a wonderful legacy with Gil to leave behind. Content with the knowledge that she'd had the full human experience.

She closed her eyes and pictured his face. She pictured him the first time she laid eyes on him, in the lecture hall of the Forensic Academy Conference in 1999. The face he made as he turned around at a crime scene to greet her, having her flown in from SF for the Holly Gribbs case. The surprised and softening look in his eyes as she touched his cheek under the pretext of chalk dust. The way his eyes bore into her dirt and garbage covered face when he'd returned from his sabbatical. The way he watched her as she worked, sneaking glances across crime scenes. The way his eyes looked as he spotted her walking down the dock in San Diego—both happy and sad. The way his face lit up when she'd told him she was pregnant with Aurora. They same way his face lit up when she was pregnant with Warrick. And the proud, solid, warm and glowing look that spread across his face with each day they spent together.

She could almost feel with warm tickle of his beard pressed against her cheeks. The soft pads of his fingers grazing across her milky white skin. She smiled softly at the thought and drifted off.