Chapter Forty Five:

'How about this one?' Grissom turns his laptop round to show Sara another RV, the planning for their trip well underway. They are sat in his office, lunch break, their discarded deli wrappers in his bin, blinds closed, two cups of coffee and a laptop fixed in front of them each.

'Hmmm. Too big.' She looks back down at her own screen. 'What about this one? It has an awning attached already.' She turns her laptop round and scrolls down the page as his eyes wonder across the pictures and information. He pushes his laptop aside and pulls hers closer across his desk.

Greg approaches Grissom's office, file in hand. The door is closed over, but the lock isn't engaged. He can hear Sara talking but cannot make out her low tones through the barrier of the heavy door. Something stops him, not wanting to enter just yet.

'Yeah, that looks perfect. Well done dear.' She beams at him and stands to move around his desk with him. He leans in to scroll further down the page, reading the literature. 'Reckon its dog proof?'

'He's trained!' She cries out. 'He had that one accident the week we got him and that's it.' She shoves his shoulder just as Greg bursts through the door. Taking in the scene before him, Sara stood next to Grissom, close, nothing out of the ordinary there. Her hand on his shoulder, hmm maybe slightly out of the ordinary. Grissom looking up at Sara with some puppy dog eyes, nothing new to report.

'I have an update on our case.' Grissom's head spins towards the young CSI. He steps in closer thrusting the file towards Grissom's outstretched hand. Sara picks up her laptop, screen now closed and takes her seat in front of his desk once again to the side of Greg. Grissom flicks open the file, licks his finger and flips through the paperwork.

'Good. Call Brass.'

'Already done.'

'Ok. Meet Brass at the house and see if its there. Take Sara with you.' He nods towards her sat off to the side of their conversation. Greg looks down at her and smiles sheepishly.

'Ring me if you find anything else.' He passes the file back and Sara stands tucking her laptop under her arm. They both turn to leave. 'Sara. A moment.' She stops and pats Greg's arm.

'I'll meet you outside.' He nods and continues out of the room, leaving the door open. Stopping just outside to the side of the door, the conveniently closed blinds aiding in concealing his secret post, craning his neck closer to the doorway, hellbent on catching this conversation.

'Do you think?' He stops gesturing with his head to the open doorway, knowing she knows what he is trying to communicate.

'Maybe? I'll deal with it don't worry.' She pushes the chair in closer to his desk, the metal legs scraping the tiled floor and Greg takes this as his queue to scramble away down the hallway.

5 minutes later and Sara clambers into the truck. Greg behind the wheel, fiddling with the radio stations.

'Hey.'

'Hey. You ready?' She nods and pulls the seatbelt across her chest, clicking the hot metal into place. After a few minutes Greg looks over towards his passenger. Sara is typing something into her cell phone, smiling to herself then snaps it shut, placing it under her thigh. 'What was that before?' She shrugs not addressing him or his question for a beat.

'What was what?' Play it cool Sidle.

'In Grissom's office. Something about someone being trained?' Sara opens her mouth then quickly closes it. Thinking suddenly fuck it, there are planning on telling everyone in the next few months anyway.

'Oh. Hank… Our dog.' She pulls her sunglasses off the front of her t shirt and places them on her nose. Greg stops the car at a red light.

'Hank? Your dog? You and Grissom have a dog?'

'Yeah. We didn't name him. He was already burdened with the moniker.' He digests this information, looking down at his hands on the steering wheel, he mentally shakes his thoughts. Getting back to the matter at hand he looks over at her again, both eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

'And this dog lives?'

'In our condo.' She turns to look at him, an oblivious look plastered across her face. He turns his attention to the green light shining bright in the early morning Vegas haze. He shifts the truck into gear, and they move off. The rest of the drive silent, Sara looking out of the window, humming along to a song on the radio. Greg, lost in his thoughts, thinking back to the time he stood in her motel room last year. Hearing her go to say Gil rather than Griss or Grissom, sent alarm bells ringing in his mind at the time but he quickly forgot the encounter. Then he begins to think back, the change in their approach to one another, they both seem happier, relaxed. He could count on one hand the number of times either of them offered to cover a shift for someone or mentioned working over time. Now he thinks about it, he doesn't recall seeing either of them at the lab on valentine's day this year either. Or last year? Sara always worked valentine's day, said those who buy into the pathetic holiday conjured by the card companies to rinse people of money on fluffy gifts and overpriced flowers for the sake of one day. Shit, have they all been blind this whole time? It's been going on right underneath their noses. Since when? Man, he has so many questions.

'I guess no one else knows?' He pulls up alongside Brass' car at the scene.

'Brass knows. That's about it.' She unclicks her seatbelt but doesn't leave the car. 'Let's keep it that way ok?' She smiles. He nods and watches her leave the truck. Meeting Brass on the lawn, his eyes follow her up to the front door, she looks healthy, not as skinny. The dark circles under her eyes practically gone, her smile bigger and brighter than he can ever remember. He smiles and makes a mental note to ask her, well more like tease her, what Grissom has that he doesn't. Laughing to himself he leaves the truck, tugs his cap down further onto his head and follows them inside.