Catherine walked up to the scene just as Heather Kessler was wheeled by on a stretcher. She walked over to Brass, "Like a bad penny, some people just keep showing up." He spoke shaking his head lightly.

"Did you call Grissom?" She noticed the change in Brass' features as she asked the question.

"No." He sighed. Brass couldn't bring himself to do it yet. While he bud out of his coworker's private lives easily, he had opinions about Grissom's relationship with Heather. He deeply disliked it. Always had. Even before he'd known about Grissom and Sara. He found Grissom always seemed to be getting himself into trouble in her presence. And now he worried too about how this would effect Sara. He desperately wanted to protect them, though his efforts would surely be fruitless with it came to Heather's powers.

"I'll call Sara in to help." She offered.

"I think Greg's available." Brass tried to mask his concern at the idea of Sara on this case.

"No, he's on lone out to Days." She pulled out her phone and texted Sara the address. "So, you telling Grissom about his girlfriend or am I?" Brass' face scrunched in confusion so she added, "Heather…"

"Oh, you can take that one." He raised his hands as if to say that he didn't want to touch that mess.

Sara arrived a short while later, kit in hand, and joined Catherine in the saloon where Heather was found. She was crouched down by the bar, checking under the stools. She pulled a shot glass, "This is a family theme park. I'm assuming they don't actually serve alcohol here. They must have brought their own." She gave it a small sniff, "Single malt."

"It's a rich man's sport."

"How much do you think a night like this would cost?" Sara wondered aloud.

"Heather once told me she clears 20 grand a week. And that was before the launch of her website." She paused and looked back at the the bar top, getting eye level. "So, where's Grissom tonight?"

"Following up on DHS records from the Dell foster kids."

Catherine sighed, "Have you seen that miniature he's making of his office? It's…"

"Yeah…"

"Creepy. For a while there I thought he was seeing someone. But that miniature is pretty case closed evidence that he's not."

Sara's heart smiled but her mind was elsewhere. She had only briefly crossed paths with Heather on a previous investigation and her curiosity was spiking. While Grissom never out right told her, she had heard the chatter through the halls over the years, speculative on their relationship.

"What's she like?" Sara asked with some hesitation.

"Beautiful. Smart. Intense. Charming." Catherine looked up, "The only woman I've ever seen rattle Grissom." Sara could feel her stomach drop as Catherine continued on, "I mean, he kind of liked that Forensic Anthropologist, Terry Miller. Remember her?"

"Yeah.." Sara's voice was small now as she worked to distract herself by bagging evidence.

"But she wasn't enough of a challenge for him. Heather, on the other hand, uninhibited and can beat him at mental chess? They have chemistry, and he is a scientist." Catherine walked over to Sara, "I have no proof, and I know he'd never tell me, but I am certain they've spent the night together. Wonder which one wore the chaps."

Sara could feel the blood rushing to her face. Hot and uncomfortable. Suddenly, she regretted opening the conversation. "Lots of coins and toothpicks." She offered in attempt and switching the conversation back to the case, "They don't sweep much under here."

"I mean, more power to him really." Catherine spoke as if Sara hadn't said a word, "To find somebody outside of work? Because if you start fishing from the company pier, you're asking for trouble."

"How so?" Sara reengaged.

"You never really get to get away from them... or work. So you're always working...it's—well it sounds exhausting. Although if it's a secret, that could be fun. But when it ends—boy what a mess."

Sara hadn't been confronted wit this much personal talk about Grissom in a very long time. She did't know what to say or how to act to mask her true knowledge of his intimate life—their intimate life. Furthermore, Catherine's sentiment was troubling. Sara could feel her heart beating faster.

"My fantasy does not include costumes, or pain. And certainly not sawdust." Catherine slapped some sawdust remnants off her thighs, "You?"

Help.

"You know, they took her to Desert Palms." Catherine moved on, "I should probably get over there to process her."

"I'll go." Sara volunteered with speed. She wanted to meet Heather, to see her in person. Even if she knew deep down that perhaps it wasn't the wisest idea. Something in her couldn't resist.

When she entered Heather's hospital room, she found Brass already there mid-questioning.

"I need a name."

"Mr. Oakly. I have his number but not on me. You'll have to look him up."

Sara noted the face Brass made at seeing her enter the room at that moment, "Sara… what are you doing here?"

"Hi. I'm with the crime lab, Sara Sidle." She looked over the woman on the bed, "I'm here to collect your clothes and trace evidence from your body."

Brass' uncomfortable demeanor did not fade. He was avoiding eye contact with her. Evidence that pushed her to think Catherine's musings had been true. Brass had knowledge about her relationship with Grissom and if he was this uncomfortable seeing Sara and Heather in the same room…

"She's all yours, Sara." Brass said cooly having been agitated by Heather's lack of cooperation.

"I don't respond well to men who judge me strictly on my profession." Heather spoke as Brass left the room.

"I get the same thing… law enforcement." Sara offered. She spoke gently, "May I move your hair?"

Heather nodded so Sara began snapping photos of the multiple ligature marks. She noted three separate strangulation attempts with minimal evidence of a struggle from her nails. She wondered what she had gone through and thought about how strangely reserved she is. A quality that, honestly, reminder her a lot of Grissom. She found herself drawn to it.

"So you're Sara."

Sara looked up at her a smiled, "Have we met?"

"No. But I know of you." She paused briefly as Sara pushed some finger scrapings into the small paper envelope. "Grissom." She offered finally, as way of explaining why she new of the CSI.

"You two are close." Sara spoke softly.

"Not as close as you." Heather was stoic in her delivery. Sara began to understand what Heather was getting at.

"Oh, that's—" She began to try to explain away whatever Heather might already but the word's caught in her throat as she began to wonder how Heather knew. Did Grissom have ongoing contact with her? Did he confide in her about their relationship? The idea that he had purposely told anyone about the two of them, outside of his mother, felt jarring suddenly. And she wasn't even certain he had told his mother. Brass and Greg only knew by happenstance. Otherwise, she'd assumed he never uttered a word about it. To anyone.

"It's okay." Heather stopped Sara's train of thought. "I know."

"How?" She spoke softly. But as she did, she clocked Heather's eyes moving past her and toward the door.

"Grissom." She spoke barely above a whisper.

Sara followed her eyes to the to see Grissom standing there in the doorway.

He had bumped into Brass in the hallway who had warned him Sara was in the room collecting evidence, but seeing the two women together still provoked a strong reaction.

"I'll be… uh...done in a minute." Sara locked her eyes on Grissom before turning back to take a couple additional photos of Heather. The look on his face at the sight of the two of them was lost on neither woman.

Grissom waited just outside the door.

"I hope you can get some rest." He heard Sara speak followed by the door opening and closing.

"Sara." His eyes softly scanned her. She could see the concern laying there. But she knew it belonged to Heather.

"I'll get this back to the lab." She motioned her head to the room. Silently encouraging him to go see her and not to worry about it.

He breathed out, "Okay."

Grissom entered the room and Sara watched for a moment as he tentatively stood there. His finger tips touching together at his midline. But she quickly diverted her eyes and walked off. Uninterested in intruding on the moment.

"May I?" Grissom asked as he nodded his head to the chair by her bed. She nodded in consent and watched as he slowly walked himself to her bedside and sat. The concern in his eyes grew as he looked her over, noting the rope marks on her neck.

"I'm fine." She spoke to fill the silence. He simply nodded in return. Another lengthy silence ensued before she spoke again, "So, that's Sara."

His head tilted to the side, "You two never crossed paths before?"

She shook her head. "She's beautiful."

He smiled softly but did not speak.

"Four years ago. When you asked to be platonic..."

"Yes." He nodded to confirm that Sara was indeed the woman with who he consumed by at the time. The woman who Heather unknowingly referred to when she said I hope you get her.

"You were surprised to see her here... with me."

"I thought Catherine was processing."

"Hmm." Was all she said, but the sentiment laid thickly, though unspoken, between them.

But then, Heather began to convulse.

"Heather!?" He spoke with urgency. He hit the nurse call button.

The nurse ran in. "She's diabetic. I think she's going into shock."

"Patient never told us." The nurse spoke as she quickly acted out the protocols for such a situation. Grissom stood back and watched. The events of the incident began to become more confusing to him. He needed to get back to the lab. To learn what evidence the team had. To start to make sense of what was happening to his friend.

Grissom made his way back to the lab to see where the case was. He walked down the hallway and came across Sara standing in a layout room, her nose down a microscope. He entered,

"Any results on Heather Kessler?"

"So far all the prints come back to her.. there was lipstick around the rim of a shot glass. I haven't had time to test it." She held it up and looked at him, "You think it's her shade?" She pursed a smile, trying to do what she could to lighten the mood.

"Heather's not supposed to drink, because of her diabetes. Which could explain the hyperglycemia and shock." His tone was sad, distant and small.

Sara softened her tone to meet his, "Catherine found a pair of men's underwear in the toilet. Any evidence on them would have been washed away. She also found seminal fluid in a tissue on the floor nearby."

"She was sexually assaulted?" Sara watched as horror and concern took over his features.

"She refused an SAE kit so we'll never know." She spoke sadly and continued, "There were no defensive wounds. No skin or rope fibers under her nails. At first blush, I figured he might have ambushed her, except I noted three separate strangulation attempts on her neck." Sara paused, handing Grissom the photo she had taken of Heather's neck, "She would have had time to fight back…"

Grissom's eyes were glued to the photo. "This makes no sense. She's very strong." He spoke, thinking about the night he wrangled the whip out of Heather's hand as she beat the man who murdered her daughter. His voice continued, soft and thick with worry, "Tough as nails. Why didn't she fight?" He finally looked back up at Sara but she couldn't look at him. He caught her diverting her eyes from him.

Grissom's overt care and worry for Heather was becoming difficult for Sara to witness. He was displaying emotion so readily and vulnerably for his friend. And while Sara never judged him for being unable to express his feelings for her in more traditional and socially relatable ways, she assumed he didn't know how in general. But maybe he just didn't know how to do it for her. He was clearly very capable.

"You'll have to ask her that." She finally responded, "I don't have that answer yet."

Catherine walked into the layout room, "Sara, DNA from the tissue is an unknown male. Brass and I are headed back to the scene, care to join?"

"No, no. That's alright. I'm going to finish processing here. Keep me updated."

She turned to Grissom now, "Have you seen Heather?"

"I visited with her in the hospital, yes."

"And? Did she say anything that could be helpful? You know she won't talk to Brass."

He shook his head, "She neglected to tell the hospital about her diabetes. Other than that," He shrugged, "she wouldn't say much about what happened."

Catherine nodded and left the room.

He returned his attention to Sara, taking a small step toward her. His fingertips touched in hesitation, "Sara…" Grissom began once Catherine was out of ear shot. Sara's eyes lifted to connect with his. But he didn't know how to continue.

"It's fine." She forced a small, sad smile and walked out of the layout room, leaving Grissom standing there alone. He felt the heaviness between them but he was preoccupied with the case and with Heather's wellbeing.

"Gate's open" Brass and Catherine walked back through the wooden gate into the wild west theme park.

"Okay Jim." Catherine began, "Give it up. I know you know something about Grissom and Lady Heather."

Brass smiled with giddiness, "Oh, I know something a lot juicier than Grissom and Lady Hea—" Brass' sentence came to a screeching halt at the site of another body, the night security guard.

"Who shot the sheriff?"

An hour later Dave arrived and cleared the body for transport. Once on the stretcher, Brass and Catherine walked back toward the parking lot.

"Are you going to spill?" Catherine pushed.

"What's that?"

"What is juicer than Grissom and Lady Heather?"

Brass' smile reappeared as spoke cryptically, "That answer is closer than you think."

"Hey Catherine. Brass." Sara approached, "Where should I start processing?"

"I'll see you two later." Brass spoke as he slipped away from the pair and toward his car.

After a long double shift Sara went home to shower and sleep before picking it back up again. She hadn't seen Grissom in the lab over the last couple of hours, and wasn't too surprised to see that he wasn't at home either. Though she was unsure where he might be.

After a very long, very hot shower, she stepped out to find that he still wasn't home. And when she woke up from her short few hours of sleep, he absence was still evident.

"Sidle." Sara spoke into her phone on it's first ring.

"Brass. Look Catherine and I are headed to Heather's now with a warrant. Can you meet us in the lab in an hour?"

"See you there."

Sara got up and ready. She walked Hank, who was still laying by the front door, waiting for Grissom's return. Then, she drove herself to the lab.

Brass knocked on the door and waited for Heather to open it.

"This isn't a good time." She quipped quickly upon seeing Brass and Catherine.

"We have a warrant to search your house. And you better put on some sunblock because we're going downtown." Brass' tone rang through unamused.

"My memory isn't any better then it was yesterday." She looked back and forth between the two, "I'm not up to it."

"Then we can swing by the hospital and you can explain to them why you checked yourself out early against doctors orders."

"We're investigating and homicide." Catherine offered, a little softer than Brass.

"I don't understand." Heather spoke.

"Where were you last night?" Brass piped up again.

"You may come in." Heather moved aside allowing Catherine and Brass to enter the foyer. She continued, "I was here."

"Can anyone verify that?" Brass' disbelief and impatience was clear. "Preferably someone not on the payroll." He added.

She gazed past them, "Captain Brass would like to know where I was last night." Catherine and Brass turned to follow her gaze and watched as Grissom emerged from down the hall.

"She was here. With me." Grissom spoke casually, sipping his tea with a mildly amused look adorning his features.

Anger began to boil up on Catherine's face. Brass on the other hand, became irritated and disappointed. Catherine spun back toward Grissom, "Gil," Her voice was as stern as her face, "A word."

"What are you thinking?" She laid into him once they stepped outside. "Of course, it's that you weren't thinking. Not with your head anyway." Grissom's brows flickered upward, "We're in the middle of an investigation here with her at the center and you what? Spend the night here? Alone with her?"

"I understand, your confused."

"Confused? I'm pissed. Gil. Your hypocrisy is on full display. Never let your personal life interfere with a case?" She continued to throw her sharp words at him. "What are you sleeping with her?"

"What? Catherine... No. I came on a hunch."

"Cath—" Brass jogged over, "Go finish out the scope of the warrant." He interjected to remove Catherine from laying into Grissom. She rolled her eyes and agreed, walking away. Now brass turned his attention to Grissom himself. "Gil."

"She needed a friend." He offered, shaking off Catherine's lecture.

"Okay…" Brass thought a moment, "Sara knows you're here?"

"Why?" The bewildered scoff that left Grissom caused Brass to get more serious with him.

"I'm taking off my detective hat, and I'm asking you as a friend. Does Sara know you're here?"

"No."

"Why not?" Brass pushed. Grissom opened his mouth but nothing came out, so Brass decided to press on, "Grissom. I know we've never come out and talked about this, but you know I have an awareness, right? I also have an awareness of the chatter consuming the lab for days about you and Heather. You spending the night here... You should be worried about her finding out from anyone but you. Catherine's anger is the least of your worries."

Brass watched as the realization flickered across his eyes.

"Did anything happen here last night?"

"No." Grissom defended. "Nothing like that."

"Then go find Sara and make sure she knows that. You, my friend, are playing with fire on all fronts right now."

A hard lump swelled up in Grissom's throat. He hadn't once considered that angle. He'd been so focused on what was going on with Heather, that he'd taken Sara's evenness and understanding for granted.

"I can't believe him." Catherine continued as she and Sara finished laying out the evidence on the light table. "For all the lectures he's given me over the years about the separation of personal life and work. For him to then turn around and pull a stunt like this." She shook her head. "Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. And he had no shame."

Sara didn't respond. She was working hard to hide the effect this conversation was having on her. The lump forming in her throat, too, was making responding dangerous.

"You know him as well as anyone. What the hell does she have over him? He's not himself around her."

Sara shrugged in response and shook her head.

"You okay?" Catherine asked, taking a break from her anger to notice the deflated demeanor of her coworker.

"Just a long few shifts." She nodded, "I'm fine." She took a short pause, "Did Grissom say why he was there?"

"On a hunch. That's all he said. God I could kill him."

Grissom finally did get back to the lab and when he found Sara, he knew he was too late. He could see it in her eyes. A sadness laid across her energy, and he knew immediately that he had put it there. He found her in the layout room just as Catherine was leaving.

"Sara will fill you in." Catherine spoke coldly as she walked right past him still clearly irritated with him.

Sara looked up from collecting the images off the light table, "We may have a suspect." Her voice was so small. He looked her over now, her eyes were tired. And a little red? Had she been crying?

There was a long silence between them as they stood alone in the layout room.

"I'm the only one Heather trusts." He finally spoke.

"I get it." But her eyes said otherwise.

"Sara…"

"Yeah?" She looked up at him and watched as he battled with what to say next. But seeing her eyes so clearly, he couldn't conjure up his next words. Brass was right. He hurt her. Something he'd promise himself he would never do. And he did it with nothing but thoughtlessness.

"Sara… I… she needed a friend."

"Okay."

"Nothing happened."

She looked back up at him after he spoke those words. Is that what he thought was upsetting her? She was too tired to have this conversation, especially here, in the middle of the lab, under the guise of platonomy.

"Do what you need to do, Gil. I'm fine."

His finger tips touched together nervously, "Sara…"

"Yeah?"

But nothing came out, yet again.

"It's fine, Gil. I'm fine." She finished collecting the images, organized them into a neat pile and scooped them up, "I'll see you later."

With that Sara left the layout room. Again leaving Grissom alone with the weight of sadness and distance that pulled at the pair.

"Excuse me." He heard her say as she turned the corner, then a girl from janitorial walked into the room.

"Dr. Grissom." She kept her head bowed.

"Thanks." He spoke as she began to disinfect the layout light table. Then disappeared down the hall himself.

"Sara?" Grissom walked in the door and quickly greeted Hank. "Sara?" He tried again. No answer. He walked through the loft until he made his way to the bedroom. There she was, sitting up in bed with a book perched open on her fingers. She looked up upon hearing him enter.

"You're home." She said simply. It was now painfully clear she was upset. Her public defenses were down and she wore her emotions on her sleeve now.

"Sara… can I explain?" Her silence was his only cue to continue. He spent the next few minutes explaining how he suspected the suicide angle from the beginning. How he learned of Heather's granddaughter and how he was able to get her limited visitation.

"She's lucky to have a friend like you in her life." Sara offered at the conclusion of his explanation.

Grissom nodded in small ways, "I'm sorry these last few days pulled me away."

"She has a power over you." Her brows raised over her reading glasses.

"She's helped me a lot over the years." He now held Sara's hand in his, gently. "She's been a good friend."

"How good of a friend?" The true layer of her question rang loudly causing Grissom's face to scrunch.

He sighed, "Yes. Once. Four years ago."

Sara nodded knowingly, "So Catherine was right."

He now began to piece together what chatter Brass was warning him of. "It was a long time ago."

"Did it make you sad?"

"I don't understand."

"Did having sex with Heather make you sad?" She repeated her statement. Her eyes unwavering.

He realized what she was referring to now and sighed once more, "I did not love her then, and I do not love her now."

He moved a little closer to her. His fingers made their way up to her face, pushing loose strands behind her ears. Tracing his finger pads along her jawline.

"Sara," His voice was a mere whisper now, his whole face softened. His eyes looked into hers lovingly, "I have only ever loved you."

It was the first time he came out so bluntly with that statement. Without hiding behind a poem or a quote or an unsent letter. She breathed out like she'd been holding her breath for days and let a very small smile escape her lips.

Their lips touched softly.

"I'm glad she's okay."

Grissom nodded, "Me too."

His hands stayed on either side of her face, gazing deeply into her eyes. "I'm really am sorry. I should have spoken with you."

She nodded but didn't speak.

He leaned in again and kissed her once more. His lips tenderly caressing hers. She leaned into the kiss, feeling the warmth of the repair between them.