Sara walked up the hill to the leveled out ground where she found Grissom and Henry putting the final touches on the bomb experiment she'd authorized a few hours earlier. She watched as Grissom came into view, sitting under the tented area, fiddling with a control. Wearing that goofy straw hat. That straw hat. She smiled at the sight of it. She loved how silly he looked in that hat. The hat had seen so much of their relationship. Like the first time he'd admitted he loved her…

"Sex without love is pointless, it makes you sad."

"I'm pretty sure I don't make you sad." She spoke through a smile, thinking about the sex they'd enjoyed just before being called out to this scene.

"No. You make me happy."

That cryptic way he had about him was once so endearing to her. So lovable. But now, it bubbled anger in her veins. She wished he could just speak to her. Tell her what was on his mind. Be transparent.

Her feet took her closer to them. Still fixated on that goofy hat perched atop his head. It had taken such a beating over the years. Looking even more ragged now then it did after it flew off his head in Costa Rica causing them to have to paddle upstream in the canoe to go retrieve it.

"I see I'm right on time." Sara spoke as she came into ear shot of the pair.

"Okay! Bombs hot. Behind the wall." Grissom spoke as the three scurried to the safe zone away from the detention. Their shoulders touched as they looked on at the explosion. It was the fist time their bodies touched each other since long before the divorce. And it sent electricity through Grissom's sole. His eyes left the bomb and fixated on her instead, standing right there next to him.

He thought about the years they were together but covert. Working side-by-side in the lab. Their relationship undetected. And he couldn't for the life of him figure out how he did that now. How he'd been able to keep his hands to himself. How he'd been able to pretend that she was not his everything.

Because all he wanted to do right now was wrap her up in his arms and pull her body against his. And it was taking every ounce of strength he had not to do so. Yet somehow, he mused, he'd spent two years able to restrain himself.

Over the next few hours Sara's frustration for Grissom was bubbling over. He was convinced that Heather had nothing to do with the initial bombing, nor the bombing at the school play that just transpired. Despite all the evidence pointing them her way.

"Gil." She spoke sternly as they stood in the school auditorium, "She's a puppeteer. She's been controlling and manipulating people for years."

"So, according to your theory, Lady Heather is the dominate. Giving orders and the female bomber is the submissive. Taking orders, right?"

"Right…"

"By rule, the dominate is not allowed to hurt the submissive. And if they do, the submissive is allowed to use the safe word to discontinue the pain."

She scoffed at his words, "This is not some fetish game." Sara looked at him with utter disbelief.

"Sara, Heather would never hurt anyone with intent to kill. Especially not innocent people. Children. It goes against everything she stands for therapeutically." He watched as something washed over Sara at the conclusion of his words. Her face tensing, lips tightening.

"What was your safe word with her?" Her eyes bore into his. Scowling with resentment.

"Stop." He said strongly. And while it was, in fact, his safe word with Heather, he meant it more for Sara to stop this.

"We certainly could have used that word here today."

He could feel his own body tensing now. The tension between them was awful. What happened to them? He exhaled hard. How did we get here? He watched her walk away and out of the auditorium. Left with the sadness of knowing their intimacy was completely deteriorated. Once his most prized possession, barely traceable now.

"I talked to the principal. The woman who blew herself up was a teacher here." She spoke as she entered a room after walking the halls looking for Grissom.

"This is her classroom." He offered, having already figured out the information Sara provided.

"She may have been under the influence of Devils Breath." Grissom spoke as he picked up the white flowers from the teacher's desk.

"Devils breath." Sara repeated as she thought a moment, "That's the street name name for Burudanga, isn't it? The same flower that we stumbled upon when we traveled through Columbia after Costa Rica. The one Pierre warned us about?"

"It is." He looked at her, his eyes locking to hers and he smiled as the warm glow of a memory took hold, "Remember when we got lost on that hiking trail and sat down to rest and recalibrate our maps when that local came yelling at us to move away."

Sara laughed softly. The sound of which melted him. "Alèjate! Apoyo!" She spoke, imitating the local's warning call.

"You remember your Spanish." He smirked as he bagged the flowers.

"Un poco." She replied, "It's about as good as my sign language."

"You were always an excellent student." He signed to her causing her to blush.

The team stood in the AV lab now as Grissom presented his findings. "Burudanga, the most dangerous drug in the world. It grows ramped in South America. One wife of it's airborne pollen and the recipient relinquishes all control. They'll do anything on command. From emptying their bank accounts to a total stranger to putting on a suicide vest. My theory is whoever is behind the bombings, gave these to her just before the school play."

"So, what's the connection between the two bombers?" Greg spoke.

"Both were patients of Lady Heather." Sara offered.

"Is she the co-conspirator in all this? Or the mastermind?" Catherine looked toward Grissom as she spoke. Taking in his body language.

"I think she's being blamed." He finally spoke. The whole team had disapproving looks on their faces, not just Sara.

"Uh—Grissom has this theory that Lady Heather is being Framed. Even though he doesn't have a motive and making the argument to validate her innocence goes against everything he ever taught us about the sanctity of evidence." Sara let her eyes linger on him as she ended her statement.

"Everything you say is true." He confirmed through a shrug.

"I'm going back to Heather's house."

"I'll come with you." Brass spoke as the rest of the team filtered out.

"Sara, could you hang back a minute." Greg spoke.

"Sure." She watched as the rest of the team exited. "What's up."

"I just wanted to check in with you."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

Greg smiled knowingly, "Oh, I don't know…" He pushed.

"I'm okay, really." She nodded.

"Okay." He moved toward her and wrapped her in a hug.

"I'm fine, Greg. Really. I don't need a hug."

"I do." He spoke, rewarding him with her laughter.

Grissom and Catherine stood just outside the doorway talking but Grissom's eyes kept bouncing back to the AV room when Greg and Sara were hugging and laughing. He remembered how insecure he felt about their relationship early on. Years before he and Sara got together.

"Have you two talked?" Catherine asked, noticing his wandering eyes. He simply shook his head in response. "You going to?"

"I wouldn't know what to say." He shrugged.

"Say how you feel."

But he simply shrugged again to push off the conversation.

Out at Lady Heather's house, Brass and Sara were confronted with a third explosion. Knocking both to their feet.

She walked back into the lab and when Grissom spotted her he rushed toward her.

"Are you alright?" His voice exasperated worry.

"I'm fine." She spoke evenly. "I just took Brass to the hospital to get checked out. He's going to be okay."

"Thank god."

"Heather… wasn't so lucky."

"I heard." His voice was laced with deep rooted sadness, causing Sara to feel a bit badly for the cold manner in which she'd been treating him.

"Thank for meeting me here." Heather spoke softly as Grissom slid into the booth across her.

She'd called him after the explosion at her home. Unbeknownst to her, he was already in town for this very case.

"I don't know who that was pretending to be me." She spoke honestly. "But clearly someone is playing games with me."

"I'm glad you're alright." He spoke through a sigh, "They've been looking for you… I have to bring you in. Everyone in law enforcement things you're responsible for these bombings."

"I am."

He shook his head, knowing that she spoke the same double speak language as he did.

Sara watched as Grissom and Heather walked down the hall toward her and the team. Their proximity close, his hand on the small of her back, leading her. An intimate gesture she caudal't fathom Grissom ever doing to her again. The very sight of Heather made her skin crawl with anger.

An officer lead Heather into the interrogation room, leaving Grissom to stand in front of the team alone. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets, shoulders raised.

"I haven't spoken to her about the case. But she's come in voluntarily so, please, treat her with respect." His eyes narrowed in on Sara at the end of his sentence. A gesture that made Sara that much more angry.

"Of course." She stared right back at him, almost tempting him to challenge her again.

"I'll start." Sara spoke as she sat across Heather in the interrogation room, her voice already layered with distain, "As much as I'd love to roll out the red carpet for you and welcome you here to your own bombing party, I can't overrule my gut—So I'm just going to ask you the obvious question here: Are you, or are you not, behind the bombings?"

"Your hostility connotes jealousy and resentment. It doesn't suit you Sara."

"You know what, I'm not in the mood, Heather. I'd like you to answer my question."

"What about the woman who was in your home? Who was blown up in your car?" Catherine interjected.

"I don't know who she is. I'm guessing whoever is setting out to frame me sent her there to send Sara on a wild goose chase."

"The only one sending us on a wild goose chase is you." Sara cut in dryly.

"You only have your claws out because of the intimacy between your ex-husband and I." Heather spoke matter-of-factly, sitting back in her chair.

"Now who's being hostile?" Sara host back.

"Needle away, Sara. After all, I've been on both sides of the pricking."

"What does that mean?" Sara urged.

"Your divorce. I advised Gil through it. You didn't know?"

"Alright." Sara stood with a force, "Clearly my presence here is a distraction." She left the room and retreated to the other side of the one-way mirror.

Catherine followed after her, "Just breathe, Sara. She's only trying to get a rise out of you. And the more you let her get to you, the more control she has."

"I know. I'm sorry." Sara shook her head at herself, arms still crossed, "I lost my cool. Dammit."

"Don't beat yourself up." Catherine offered as comfort, "I don't feel the way you do about Grissom and I want to kill the bitch with my bare hands."

Sara's mouth fell agape. Her jaw moved in small motions, trying to speak, to say anything, but shock washed over her, "How…" Her voice was so small.

"I'm a woman. I know it when I see it. So does she. Remember that." Catherine touched Sara shoulder, "A love like that doesn't just go away. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you guys."

Sara and Catherine stood with Grissom in the hall, filling him in on the interrogation, when he caught the sight of the young redheaded girl he'd bumped into at the beginning of the day. She was walking toward him again now.

"Hey you. What'd ya got there?" Catherine laughed through a smile, "You going somewhere?"

"No. This is Dr. Grissom's. Did you forget your luggage? I found it just outside the front door."

"That's not mine."

"It's not?" She furrowed her brows and picked up the name tag on the luggage, "It has your name on it."

Sara turned to Grissom with a confused look, realizing he works the same one.

"Bomb!" Catherine yelled and grabbed the girl's hand, pulling her away.

Grissom instinctually through this arm around Sara and rushed her down the hallway and out of the lab. Feet moving fast. They broke through the double doors, sunshine hitting their faces. Once they were outside he spun her to him, hands on either shoulder.

He stared at her, the commotion of the rest of the lab's occupants rushing out to the lot was a a blur around him. "Are you okay?" His face was so close to hers. Voice soft and concerned. She watched as his eyes squinted with worry.

He felt her head nod with small movements against his hand as she spoke, "Fine." She cleared her throat of its hoarseness, "I'm fine."

She reached up to her face and peeled his hand from her cheek. Lowering it for him. She squeezed his hand lightly.

"An uneventful return?" She offered through a very small smile. "You miss it." She stated, searching his eyes.

"What's that?"

"This. The rush. The puzzles. The science."

He shrugged, "Yeah… I do miss this."

"Bomb squad just entered, come look at the live view." Ecklie ushered the pair toward the bombs quad unit so they can watch as the bot scanned the suitcase for threat.

"Griss… The stickers on the suitcase.."

He smiled internally at the way she used the shorthand for his name. The familiarity that slipped from her tongue. But he quickly refocused on the video of the suitcase.

"San Francisco. Las Vegas. Paris. San Juan…" He began to read off the stickers on the suitcase, then turned to Sara, "Am I just being egocentric, or…?"

"It feels like a message." She confirmed. "It's addressed to you and every sticker on it has something to do with our relationship." She shook her head in disbelief, "Why would someone be after you and Heather?"

"And…" He added, "You by proxy."

Once the suitcase was cleared, the lab repopulated. But Grissom didn't reenter the lab. He needed some solitude. All this time on his boat, he'd become comfortable with being alone. And since he'd gotten to Vegas, he was anything but alone. He found it hard to think. So he retreated to a bench on the other side of the building.

He pulled out a moleskin notebook and began to sketch. Drawing had become a meditative experience for him. Allowing him to quiet his mind enough to really think. As he shaded in a whale, peace began to restore to his mind.

"Hard at work I see." Cather spoke as she approached him.

"I am." He spoke simply. Not lifting his eyes from his sketching.

"Drawing… sea creatures." She observed, seeing a side of her friend she'd never witnessed before.

"Whales and Sharks." He offered, "An apt metaphor for Vegas. If you think of it."

"Okay…" Catherine spoke as she sat down next to him. "Listen, I need a favor. The new girl, she's having a bit of a rough time. She thinks she let you down. I was hoping you might be able to help her process the suitcase? Giver her a little of that Grissom guidance."

"I'd rather not. I 'm quite content here. Where did that girl come from anyway?"

Catherine stared at him in utter disbelief, not that he'd notice. He was still fixated on his notebook.

"My vagina." She spoke, conveying the same disbelief as her face showed. "You don't recognize her!?" Catherine began to laugh, watching as his head shot up to look at her finally, "Gil. That's Lindsay. That's my daughter."

"That's Lindsey!?"

Catherine laughed again, "Yeah."

"What the hell happened?"

"She grew up." Catherine shrugged. She assumed the last time he saw her was a little while after Warrick died. It may have been seven or eight year since he last saw her. "So? What do you say?"

"Yeah. Okay." Grissom shook his head, "She's an adult."

"I know."

"She's a CSI."

Catherine beamed proudly, "Remember all those years I was panicking about raising her the way I did. Exposing her to all this, the hours…"

"Seems like you did good."

She watched as he stared off into the distance, his face softening in a moment of thought. "You ever think about it, Gil? Having kids?"

He looked back at her now, sadness filled his eyes, "There was a time."

"With Sara?"

His head dropped, staring at the closed notebook in his hands, shoulders slumped. He felt her reach over and place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You should talk to her."

"I would't know what to say, Catherine. Really."

"You don't know how you feel?"

"I just—wouldn't that be selfish?"

"It's okay to be selfish sometimes, Gil."

He shook his head, "No, I've put her through enough."

"You once told me you couldn't live without her."

He scrunched his brows, "I said that to you?"

"Out in the desert, when we were searching for her by foot. After we found the dead hiker."

"Oh." He hated thinking about that time. Avoided it at all costs.

"I don't think that's changed. Maybe she deserves to know how you feel. Maybe it wouldn't be selfish. Maybe it would be a gift… Just, think about it."

She stood up and stuck out her hand to indicate he should do the same, "Now C'mon. You have a suitcase to process."