AN: Happy Thanksgiving to anyone from the US! I hope you have a wonderful day full of family and friends

Thanks to WalkerTRngr for the beta help

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI

Chapter 8

Sara lingers for a moment, leaning over the crib, watching Mattie sleep. She's reminded of the first few weeks after he was born, when she could sit and watch him for hours at a time, amazed by the rise and fall of his little chest, his tiny fists opening and clenching in sleep.

Taking a deep breath, she straightens up and makes sure the baby monitor is on before leaving the room, closing the door most of the way behind her.

Joelle's on the couch when she reaches the living room, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of her.

"I figured you wouldn't be in the mood for any drama or romance, so Monty Python it is," she announces with a smile, making Sara laugh.

"Sounds good."

They've gotten through about half of The Holy Grail when there's a knock on the door. Joelle pauses the movie and stretches. "You get that, I need a bathroom break anyway," she announces, heading in the direction of the bathroom.

Sara shakes her head at the transparent attempt at giving her and whoever's on the other side of the door – she can only assume Joelle thinks it's Grissom – some time alone and goes to open the door.

She pushes down the flash of disappointment when it's just Jim.

"That was quick," she notes, stepping aside to let him in.

He shrugs as he passes her. "We didn't get much out of her, I'm afraid. Ecklie showed her a photo of her son from just before he was killed, and she basically snapped, stopped responding and just sat rocking in a corner. We're getting a psych eval, but I don't really think there's any doubt about her not being in her right mind." He pulls a CD case out of his pocket. "I put it on this for you anyway, but I don't really think it'll give you any answers."

She accepts the case, turning it over in her hands, considering whether to watch it.

"So, she saw Mattie and snapped, thinking he was her kid?" she asks, looking up at him.

"That's the best theory we have," he agrees with a shrug. "I know it's not what you want to hear, I'm sorry."

"Hey, Captain Brass."

They both look over at Joelle's voice.

"Hi, Jo," Jim says with a smile, which makes Sara smile – he's always had a bit of a soft spot for Joelle. "How're you doing? Head OK?"

She reclaims her earlier spot on the couch. "My head's just fine. And I'm much better now that the rugrat's back. You joining our little impromptu movie day?"

"I should probably head home," he replies reluctantly. "I've barely been home since all this started. I was going to order take out and not get up off the couch for the rest of the day."

"Sounds like a plan," Joelle agrees, glancing at the CD case in Sara's hand. "Is that the interrogation? Are we going to watch it?"

Sara crosses the room back to the couch. "Apparently there's not much of interest, she had some sort of mental breakdown."

"Seriously?" Joelle huffs. "OK, I didn't really get much of an explanation from Catherine earlier, so can you just… run through it with me? I need to understand what happened."

Sara reaches out to squeeze her hand, trying to offer some comfort. She knows how Joelle feels – she wants answers herself.

Jim claims an armchair on Joelle's other side.

"We don't know exactly what happened," he starts, a disclaimer. "We know that this woman, Melissa Harlow, texted her ex-husband, Brian, earlier today, asking why he hadn't picked up their son Timothy for their weekend together. Their son was killed in a car accident three years ago, so naturally, he was confused. She sent him a photo, and he recognized Mattie from the news, so he told her he just needed to run some errands and then he'd be there. Instead, he came to PD and we arranged for him and his girlfriend to pick Mattie up." He glances at Sara, perhaps worried she'll be mad that the rescue team was made up of two civilians, but she's just grateful it worked. "We had SWAT nearby, obviously, but I figured it would be better for Mattie if we didn't send them in. Luckily, we didn't need to. They went in, Melissa handed Mattie over, and they were back out in a few minutes."

A shiver runs through her at the thought of what might have happened if they had needed to send in SWAT, but she quickly averts her thoughts. There's no point in dwelling on what could have been. Mattie's home and safe, that's what's important.

"So, she thought Mattie was her son?" Joelle asks incredulously.

"It's the working theory, yes," Jim replies. "If she gets better, we'll obviously question her again, but I doubt that'll happen anytime soon."

Joelle's quiet for a moment, looking contemplative. Then she pulls her phone out of her pocket. "What did you say her name was?" she asks.

"Melissa Harlow," Jim provides. "Why?"

"Just checking something…" she says absentmindedly. "Got her. Her profile's public, there are a lot of photos…"

Sara leans in to see what she's talking about, finding what is apparently Melissa Harlow's Facebook profile on the screen of Joelle's phone. She's scrolling back through the posted photos, most of them of a brown-haired boy who gets younger and younger. Eventually, she pauses, clicking on one of them.

"I mean, the hair's similar, but I wouldn't say they look that much alike," Joelle muses, handing the phone to Jim when he reaches for it.

"Jo, there's no point trying to make sense of this," Sara tells her gently. "People with mental problems… their minds don't work like ours."

"So it was just… random?" Joelle asks, giving her a pleading look. "It could have been anyone?"

Sara recognizes the frustration, the impotence at the randomness of the world. She's been there more times than she can remember.

"Wrong place, wrong time," Jim says with a half-shrug. "But the important thing is that you know none of this was your fault."

"Yes," Sara agrees. "I know it's hard, trust me, but the best thing you can do is to just try to put it behind you."

Joelle snorts. "Yeah, I'll get right on that."

Jim hands the phone back, then pats her hand a little awkwardly before getting up. "This is a good start," he says, gesturing at the TV. "And if you need to talk, you know where we are. Or if you want to talk to a professional, I can arrange that."

Joelle offers him a grateful smile. "I'll let you know if I need that, thanks."

"Right, I'm going to get going, but call if you need anything, OK?" Jim says, looking between the two of them.

"I'll walk you out," Sara offers, rising to her feet and following him to the front door as she considers asking or not. But what does she have to lose at this point? "Do you know where, um… Grissom went?"

"I dropped him off at his mom's place," he replies. "He said she'd never forgive him if she found out he'd been in town and not stopped by."

"Right."

She tries not to let the words discourage her. He told her he was just giving her and Mattie some time to settle down, but… maybe he changed his mind. His car's still here, he'll have to get it before leaving town, but she hasn't seen the keys, so he must have them with him, meaning he can just pick it up without even having to see her.

Maybe he'll do just that, thinking it's easier to just slip away quietly.

Maybe it would be.

"Hey." Jim's voice pulls her out of her musings. "He's just giving you some time with Mattie, OK? He said he'll be here tomorrow."

Part of her hates that his words settle some of the turmoil inside her, but they do.

Suddenly, her gratitude for the man in front of her is overwhelming, and she wraps her arms around him tightly. "Thank you for… everything, Jim. I don't know how I would have survived the last couple of days without you. And thank you for bringing him home."

He's frozen for a moment, but then he's hugging her too, patting her back a little awkwardly.

"Don't even mention it," he mumbles roughly, squeezing her tightly for another moment before taking a step back. "Now, Ecklie gave me very strict instructions – you are not to set foot in the lab for at least a week, OK? No arguing."

Sara sighs. "We're still so short…"

"Nope. He's rearranging the shifts, giving grave a little help. They will get by without you. The only job you have for the next seven days – at least – is to look after that little boy."

"OK."

Jim's eyes widen and he presses a hand to his chest. "Are my ears deceiving me, or did Sara Sidle just back down from an argument?"

"Shut up and get out of here before I change my mind," she tells him, shoving him lightly towards the door.

Mattie sleeps for another forty-five minutes, and when he wakes up, they switch from Monty Python to a children's channel, and spend the rest of the day lounging on the couch, playing with him, and just relaxing in general. Sara notices that he seems reluctant to be too far away from her, following her whenever she goes into the kitchen or to the bathroom, and makes a mental note to keep an eye on this. If it doesn't get better over the next week, she might need to talk to a child psychologist, just to see if it's normal and how to handle it.

After Mattie goes to sleep for the night, she orders pizza for herself and Joelle, and they return to Monty Python.

"Are you staying tonight or heading home?" she asks a couple of hours later, when Joelle represses a yawn.

She shares a three-bedroom apartment with five other girls, to save money while she's at school, so it's fairly common that she stays over even on nights when she's not on the clock. A bedroom all to herself is still a luxury.

"I was thinking I'd stay, if that's OK. Maya's having a party tonight," she replies with a grimace. Maya is her least favorite roommate and usually the reason for her sleepovers.

"OK, just checking." Sara hides a yawn of her own behind her hand. "I think I'm going to call it a night, it's been a long day."

Joelle stretches a little. "Yeah, I think I will too."

She carries the now empty pizza box into the kitchen while Sara makes sure the door is locked and turns on the security system, and then they say goodnight outside the guest room.

Sara's brushing her teeth in the master bathroom when Joelle pops her head in.

"Hey, did you change the sheets? You didn't need to do that, I washed them just the other day."

Sara spits the toothpaste into the sink before responding. "Oh, yeah, uh… Gil stayed here last night, he changed them."

"Oh, really?"

She hesitates for a moment, but decides to just get it out. "They're clean, though, he didn't actually sleep in there."

Joelle raises an eyebrow. "And where did he sleep?"

"In here," Sara admits. "I was going to take a shower and somehow ended up in Mattie's room… he found me there a little later and more or less carried me into bed. Then I pretty much threw myself at him." She groans at the memory of his rejection. "God, I practically begged him to just… help me forget, just for a little while. But he wouldn't, of course… I went to the bathroom, giving him some time to leave, but he didn't. And then he just… held me while I cried myself to sleep, basically."

She has no doubt that, under any other circumstances, Joelle would have teased her, but now, she just squeezes Sara's hand in a comforting gesture.

"So, is that why you don't buy my theory?" she asks a moment later, making Sara frown.

"What theory?"

"That he's still in love with you."

She freezes for a moment. "I thought you said you were going to let that go?" she reminds her, reaching into the medicine cabinet for her face cream.

"I was, I just… you sounded upset, when you said he obviously refused your… advances."

Sara snorts. "That's a diplomatic way of putting it."

"I just…" Joelle huffs. "I really don't think you can put too much stock in that. You were obviously upset, if he… you know, that would have been a serious jerk move. He was probably just trying to… not take advantage."

Sara focuses on her reflection in the mirror, massaging the cream into her skin, for a moment as she considers the words.

She's afraid to let herself believe that there's any truth to them, but… it would be such a Gil thing to do.

"I won't say anything else," Joelle says, pulling her attention. "But I think you should at least talk to him. What's the worst thing that can happen? You already think he doesn't care anymore. And if he turns you down and leaves town again, at least you won't have to see him."

She has a point. If Sara doesn't talk to him, if she lets him leave, she'll never know. She'll probably wonder if she made a mistake for the rest of her life. But if they do talk, and he flat out tells her that they're over, he'll be back in San Diego soon enough. She survived his rejections for years, even seeing him every day. She made it through a divorce… she can handle being turned down again.

But if Joelle's right…

She lets out a deep sigh.

"Just… think about it?" Joelle says, offering a small smile, before disappearing.

Like she'll be able to think about anything else.

His mother talks him into going to mass with her on Sunday morning, and by the time they get back to her house, it's almost noon, so he stays for lunch as well.

Grissom's dragging his feet; he can admit that to himself.

Betty has a standing bridge game with a few of her friends at two on Sundays, though, so when he's helped her clean up in the kitchen, he makes himself scroll through his contacts and hit 'Call' on Jim's number.

"Brass," comes the reply after two rings.

"Jim, it's Gil. I hope you weren't just being polite yesterday."

There's a chuckle over the line. "When am I ever polite? You need a ride?"

"If you don't mind."

"Nah, but give me an hour, OK? I just got out of the shower five minutes ago."

His mother is getting picked up in twenty minutes, but he does have a key that he hardly ever uses, so it's not a problem. "Sure, that's fine. Thank you."

Betty tries to insist she can stay until Jim gets here, and that they can drop her off on the way, but he manages to discourage her by saying it's out of the way – which is true. It's just not the reason he wants her to leave, because he knows Jim wouldn't mind.

He just needs a few minutes to himself. He loves his mother, really, he does, but after almost twenty-four hours of her meaningful looks and not-so-subtle comments, he's almost wishing for the days before she warmed to Sara and their relationship.

Almost.

He's not quite sure what to do with himself when she's left, though, so he makes sure he has his phone and car keys, and then waits in the shade on the front porch for Jim to arrive.

"Mom kick you out?" the detective asks when he gets in the car twenty minutes later.

"She left a while ago, Sunday bridge game," Grissom explains. "I don't know why, but I didn't really feel comfortable inside when she was gone, so figured I'd wait out here."

Jim just hums as he pulls away from the curb.

"So, you getting ready to leave town again?" he asks a few minutes later.

Grissom lets out a breath. "I… don't think so."

"Really." Jim studies him closely for a moment as they come to a stop at a red light, and he feels almost transparent under his gaze. "I don't even know what it is you do these days."

"I work with an organization that's trying to stop illegal fishing off the California coast," he replies. "Mainly sharks, they catch them, cut the fins off and then throw them back, which is very illegal."

"Huh. Well, hard to do that in Vegas," Jim notes, and Grissom frowns.

"Is that your way of telling me to leave?"

Jim holds up his hands. "Hey, I'm not telling you to do anything," he says. "I will say this, though – it's not just about you anymore. Heck, it's not even about you and Sara anymore. If you hadn't been on the other side of the planet when I found out about the divorce, trust me, I would have given you a piece of my mind. But if you stay, if you manage to get her to let you back in, if you become a part of that little boy's life, and then run away again because it's too much – I don't care how far you run. And don't forget I used to be a CSI – it might have been a while, but I still know how to get rid of a body."

He remembers Al asking, back when he was getting ready to leave the lab, if he was running from something or to something. Someone.

Since the divorce, he's been running from something, even if he hasn't wanted to admit it to himself. From the loneliness he can't seem to escape no matter how hard he tries. From the reminders of Sara that seem to follow him wherever he goes, even to places she's never been. From the memories of their life together that have haunted him every single day since the last time he saw her.

Maybe it's time to stop running.

He looks over at Jim, who's focusing on the road again as he turns onto Far Hills Avenue. "Duly noted."

They make small talk during the rest of the drive, avoiding heavier subjects, and soon, Jim's pulling up at the curb at Sara's place.

"Thanks again, Jim," Grissom says, offering a grateful smile.

"Don't mention it. But I am going to hold you to that promise about breakfast," Jim replies. "So you better not leave town before we get a chance to do that."

Grissom nods at that, knowing that if things go the way he wants them to, him leaving town won't be a problem.

Even if he doesn't quite dare hope yet.

He waits until Jim's car has disappeared around the corner before knocking on the door, quickly shoving his hands into his pockets after a couple of raps. Luckily, it's not long before it opens.

"Hi." Sara's voice is hesitant.

"Hey."

They just stare at each other for a moment, neither speaking.

"Mama go?"

They both look down at the little boy, staring up at her, one hand firmly gripping her pants leg and a beseeching look on his face. Sara leans down to scoop him up and he wraps tight arms around her neck. "I'm not going anywhere, baby," she assures him, voice soft, before returning her eyes to Grissom. "You remember Gil? You met him yesterday?"

Mattie glances at him before burying his face against her shoulder.

"Hi, Mattie," he tries, with no response.

Sara offers him an apologetic smile. "He's been a little clingy, which is only to be expected, I think."

"Yeah, no wonder."

"I'm off for a week, hopefully it'll be enough time to get both of us settled back into our routine."

"Probably a good idea."

"So…" she starts, shifting her grip on Mattie to get him settled more comfortably. "You on your way back to San Diego?"

Her question makes his heart speed up. Maybe she doesn't want him here at all. Maybe her advances the other night were just the desperation of the situation. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with him at all.

"No," he still says.

"Staying with your mom for a few days?"

He shakes his head. "No. I… I don't know what I'm going to do, I haven't gotten that far yet, but I… I'm not going back to San Diego."

The shaky breath she sucks in gives him strength, somehow.

"I know I… I have no right to…"

"Do you want to come inside?"

AN: I know that a lot of you wanted The Conversation, but for some reason, I wanted to leave this one a little open ended – so this is the final chapter. Since I always want to know 'what happened next?' (which is why I started writing fanfic to begin with, I guess), I do, however, have a short-ish epilogue that I'll be posting on Sunday. If you like this ending and want to imagine for yourself what happens next, feel free to skip the epilogue, but it will be there for those of you who want it

I'm going on vacation on Monday and will be gone a week (which is why I posted this a day early) and then I'm planning on starting to post the next fic (set post 'Butterflied' of season 4), so keep an eye out for that in about a week and a half!