Fandom: CSI Rating: R Pairing: G/S Summary: A sequel to Rollercoaster, which really should be read first. Disclaimer: Some of the characters and situations in this story belong to Alliance Atlantis, CBS, Anthony Zuicker and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them.  Others strongly resemble characters that sort of belong to ABC, though I seriously doubt anyone cares at this point.  The rest belong to me, and if you want to play with them, you have to ask me first.  No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit.  Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.   Spoilers: general fifth season through "Unbearable" Note: This is an AU futurefic that includes a number of original characters.      ********* Greg knocked on the doorframe of Grissom’s office, looking inquiring.  “Hey, Griss, you wanted me here early?”  “Ah.  Greg, I need you to do me a favor.  I’ve got a consultant coming in tonight at McCarran, and I don’t have time to go pick her up,” Grissom said briskly, stacking papers.  “Can you pass your case off to Betty and meet her for me?  I’ve already cleared it with Abdul.”  Greg hesitated for a moment, possibly debating why Grissom was asking him rather than Gen, who was technically the newbie for all she’d been there over a year.  But then he shrugged.  “Sure, no problem.  What time?”  Grissom glanced at his watch.  “She’s landing in about an hour, which should just give you time to get there.  Here.”  He picked up a long piece of thin cardboard from his desk, uncapped a black marker, and scrawled a name on it in large printing.  “Wait for her at the Southwest security gate; she’ll find you.”  Greg took the sign.  “Gotcha.”  “Bring her straight to the lab.  And Greg--do not use the flashers.  If you’re late getting there, you’re late.”  He gave his former CSI a mildly stern look; Greg returned a cheeky grin, one that Grissom suddenly realized he had missed.  “You got it, ex-boss.”      Sara hauled her satchel a little higher on her shoulder and dodged around a family with three kids.  Grissom had said he’d send someone to meet her, a tacit signal that they were no longer hiding anything, and she was quite curious as to who he’d picked.  One of his new team--this could be awkward.  Or maybe fun...  Then she saw him, his height and hair impossible to miss.  Greg stood near the security exit with three other men, all of them holding signs; when she read Greg’s, it was all she could do to keep from bursting out laughing.  Instead, she grinned hard, and decided to see if she could sneak up on him.  Given how bored he looked, it wasn’t hard.  Sara came up on his left side, leaning up to kiss his cheek before he quite knew she was there.  “Hey, Greggo!”  Greg jumped and recoiled, eyes wide, and then a huge smile spread over his face as he recognized her.  “Sara!”  She was instantly wrapped in a hug powerful enough to belie Greg’s wiriness.  Sara laughed as she returned it, delighted to see her old buddy again after so long.  “It’s good to see you, Greg.”  Greg let her go long enough to hold her out in front of him for a look, then hugged her again.  “What are you doing here?  Did you come back to stay?  Why didn’t you call?”  “Hey, hey, take it easy,” Sara said, still laughing, and managed to pull free.  On impulse, she decided to string him along a bit.  “I’m here to see the Vegas Bureau branch.”  “I can’t believe I ran into you!  Can you believe this?  Grissom sent me out here to pick someone up, what’re the odds?”  He looked down at the slightly mangled sign.  “Oh crap, I hope she didn’t just walk right by me.”  Sara smirked.  Slowly, she reached out and took the sign from Greg’s hands, and held it out in front of her like a label.  Greg’s forehead wrinkled as he stared at her, eyes dropping to the name “Lisa Darse”.  It took him about five seconds, and Sara could see the wheels turning in his head the whole time.  Then his jaw dropped open and he started sputtering.  Since nothing coherent was emerging, Sara took his arm and dragged him out of the traffic and into a somewhat quieter corner.  Greg’s eyes looked like they were about to leave his skull, and all he could say was “But you--he--but--how--“  Sara leaned against the wall and waited.  Eventually Greg calmed down enough to fix her with a glare and demand “How long?”  “Since August.”  She let him figure that out as well.  Greg smacked his own head with a comic flourish.  “I don’t believe it.  All this time, and we never even--I mean, I knew he was there, but--“  She snickered, hoping that he wouldn’t be angry.  “Gotcha.”  Abruptly she was swept into another hug, this one a little gentler.  “You bitch,” Greg said happily.  “You had me so going with your description!  A smart funny scientist, huh?”  He let her go, grinning again.  “I am supremo happy to hear this.”  Sara pursed her lips, highly amused.  “Actually, Greg, I haven’t admitted to a thing.”  His eyeroll was eloquent.  “Uh-huh.  The Bugman sends me to get you and that doesn’t mean anything?  Pull the other one.”  Sara pushed away from the wall.  “Okay, okay.  Let’s walk while we talk, huh?  I’m tired and hungry and I really need a restroom.”  “This way, milady.”  Greg shook his head as they started walking.  “So, you and Grissom finally, huh?”  She shrugged, and he poked her lightly.  “Come on, Sidle, I’m your ride.  At least give me the edge on the gossip.”  Sara glanced over at Greg, and while his face was lit with fun, she could see the kindness in his  eyes.  She poked him back on principle.  “Look, I don’t know what Grissom has in mind, but I don’t think he’ll mind if you spread the news as long as you don’t run up and down the lab hallway shouting about it.”  “Cool.”  He rubbed his hands together in glee, and Sara was glad to see that he hadn’t really changed that much.  His hair was still...unusual, and he still had that sense of fun that made him good, and occasionally exasperating, to work with.  “You didn’t tell anybody you were coming?”  “Nope.”  Spotting the correct sign, she veered away across the corridor.  “Be right back.”  A few minutes later, refreshed, she found Greg leaning against the wall near the bathroom entrance, talking animatedly on his phone.  When she appeared, however, he bid a hasty goodbye and closed it.  “Who was that?” Sara asked.  Greg shook his head again.  “None of your business, Miss FBI.  Ready to go?”  “I have to pick up my suitcase.”  They strolled towards the baggage claim area, Greg trying briefly to carry her satchel for her but giving up after a short tussle, and chatted about the lab.  Sara did let him take her suitcase, which left him beaming as he pulled it along behind them.  “So you’re thinking of transferring to Vegas?” he asked, looking so hopeful that Sara hadn’t the heart to keep leading him on.  “I’ve already transferred,” she admitted.  “I start there next week.”  The whoop and subsequent hug were enough to leave Sara laughing.  “Enough, Greg!  I didn’t know you missed me that much.”  “It hasn’t been the same since you left,” Greg admitted, sobering a little.  “Though if Grissom was with you the whole time, that explains why he looks so much better now.”  Sara’s humor disappeared as she remembered Greg’s words months before.  He was fading.  Really slow.  “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” she asked, but Greg’s mouth twisted unhappily.  “Sara...it kinda was.”  She fought a surge of guilt.  She’d done what she had to do, and Grissom’s life, at that time, had been his own concern.  “A couple of the techs actually took bets on how long he was going to last, at least until Catherine found out.”  A little amusement returned to his face.  “That was fun to watch--she actually chased them out of the lab.  And besides, he looks like he’s fine now.”  “Mm.”  Sara wrenched her mind away from that train of thought.  “So have you got Hodges back for the last trick?”  That started Greg off on a string of stories that kept them both laughing until he pulled the SUV into a lab parking space.  The building looked just the same to Sara, and it was a distinctly odd feeling to walk into it as though she’d never left.  The receptionist was someone she didn’t recognize, but the young man acceded pleasantly when Greg left her bags behind the counter, and promised the CSI that he would keep an eye on them.  “What happened to Judy?” Sara asked sotto voce as they headed towards Grissom’s office.  “Nothing, she just switched jobs.  She’s working as a legal secretary now.”  Greg shrugged.  “She said the dark side paid better.”  Sara snorted, commiserating.  “Working for the county won’t make you rich.”  Grissom’s office door was open when they reached it, and Sara didn’t try to keep back the smile when she saw him sitting behind his desk, going through a file.  It felt very strange for a moment, as though time had telescoped, but she wasn’t the woman who had once hovered wistfully in his doorway, and he wasn’t the man who had hesitated so long.  Then Grissom looked up, and one of his rare full grins spread over his face as he saw her.  Without hesitation he laid down the file and stood, and Sara didn’t wait in the doorway; they met as he came around the desk, and the kiss they shared satisfied her as nothing had since he’d left.  The soft chuckle and the sound of the door closing behind her proved that Greg had learned discretion.  Sara was as reluctant to move from the circle of Grissom’s arms as he was to let her go, and when their kiss ended they stayed put for a moment, feeling the ache of separation slowly fade.  Sara tucked her head down in the crook of Grissom’s neck, and felt him rub his cheek against her hair and sigh with the same relief she was feeling.  “I missed you,” she muttered eventually, and his arms closed a little tighter.  “Sara,” he whispered; just her name, but it was enough.      Part of Grissom kept expecting to wake up.   It wasn’t as though the past eight months felt like a dream; no, they were solid and sweet in his palm, like a sun-warmed apple.  But having what he’d so long wanted, in the place where he’d never dared to take it, was oddly disorienting, his old situation contending with his new self.  I’ll take it.  He watched Sara poke at his shelves of specimens, her eternal curiosity coming out as she answered his questions about her flight.  “This is new,” she said, holding up a severed hand, heavy in its preserving jar.  “Someone gave it to me,” he said, straight-faced, and she glared at him without force, her lips twitching.  “For a job well done?  Sounds pretty Zen to me, Gil.”  He chuckled, and she replaced the jar, smiling.  “Are you working all through tonight?  I can get a cab--”  “Certainly not,” Grissom said lightly.  “I’m just here because I had to finish a report this evening; we can go home as soon as I drop it off.  Or--“  He cocked his head, catching the sound of a familiar voice.  “After your public is satisfied.”  Sara blinked.  “My public?”  He nodded at the door.  “You know Greg…did you really think he wasn’t going to spill the beans?”  Sara rolled her eyes.  “Dammit, I knew I should have made him tell me who he was calling.”  Grissom, smirking a little, glanced out through the half-open blinds of his window, then opened the door and stood aside.  His timing was perfect; Nick came through it at a fast stride, and immediately enveloped Sara in a bearhug.  She squawked, but managed to embrace him in turn.  “Nice to see you too, Stokes!”  Nick laughed, almost lifting her off her feet.  “Damn, Sara, it has been way too long!”  Grissom watched, amused, as Nick assured Sara she had been missed, and as Warrick and Greg came in behind him.  Sara peeled Nick off and exchanged a gentler hug with Warrick; Greg simply leaned against a shelf and grinned.  Sara’s face was faintly flushed, and her eyes danced as Jacquie came in to swell the impromptu reunion.  Grissom stood by the door and listened to the mingled voices, enjoying Sara’s pleasure in seeing her friends again but regretting the circumstances that had kept her from visiting before.  If I hadn’t been an idiot, she could have come back without fear of running into me.  But then, if I hadn’t been an idiot, she wouldn’t have left in the first place.  Before his mood slipped, however, Sara glanced past Nick’s shoulder and gave him an amused wink, and Grissom smiled back as Warrick sauntered over to him.  “Congrats, man,” the younger CSI said in a low voice, folding his arms.  “How long?”  Grissom shrugged, not quite sure how to pinpoint the moment when he and Sara had truly come together.  The aftermath of their fight?  Christmas?  That first kiss in the snow?  “Not long enough.”  “I hear ya.”  Warrick watched Sara for a moment.  “She looks good.”  “The Bureau suits her,” Grissom agreed, not mentioning the other factors in Sara’s life.  Another figure appeared in the doorway, halting abruptly at the sight of all the people crowded into the office.  “Ah…did I miss a memo?”  Grissom stepped forward.  “Sorry, Abdul.  We’ll take this to the breakroom.”  His successor scanned the gathering, a smile lightening his somewhat saturnine face.  “No, that’s okay; I just came in to pick up a file.  And collect Sanders, since he’s back.”  Greg drooped in exaggerated disappointment.  Grissom shook his head.  “Sara, this is Abdul Rahman, who leads the night shift.  Abdul, Sara Sidle.”  Sara stepped forward and held out a hand, smiling, and as Abdul took it, Grissom’s stomach twisted a little, Catherine’s words about Abdul’s looks resurfacing.  But Sara’s gaze met the younger man’s with only polite interest, and Grissom relaxed.  Get a grip, he advised himself wryly.  You know damn well that once Sara’s mind is made up, it doesn’t change.   “A pleasure, Ms. Sidle.  I’ve heard a lot about you,” Abdul said, still smiling, and Sara snorted.  “I’ll bet.”  She glanced over at the shelves.  “Greg.”  “Who, me?  Just preserving the legend, oh Great One.”  Greg laid a hand on his heart, then ducked as Jacquie poked him.  “What??”  Grissom let out an amused breath.  “Okay, everybody out.  Some of us have work to do.”  Abdul took Greg and Jacquie with him as he left, file in hand; Nick and Warrick lingered.  “Want to go get a drink or something and catch up?” Nick suggested, looking at both Grissom and Sara.  She shook her head.  “Sounds great, Nick, but it’s late for me; I’m still running three hours ahead.  Rain check?”  “Sure thing.”  Both men hugged her again before departing, and Grissom took his jacket from the coatrack near the door.  “Ready to go?” he asked softly.  Sara had a gentle smile on her face, and she watched the two vanish around the corner before turning to Grissom.  “Absolutely.”  They walked out of the lab together, again an echo of earlier times, though no case called them now.  Sara stopped to pick up her bags at Reception, and Grissom took the larger one as they exited.  “I’m sorry,” he said, touching her arm to guide her towards his car.  “I didn’t realize you were so tired.”  She shot him a mischievous look.  “I slept on the plane, actually.  I’d love to spend some time with them soon, but first I want to spend time with you.”  He took her hand, unable to stop himself, and reveled in the quick curl of her fingers around his.  Bringing her home was almost exactly like his daydream, except that it was nighttime and the windows were dark instead of flooding the house with light.  He held the door for her, watched her step inside and look around the airy space, saw the small smile on her lips.  He held his breath as she surveyed the big main room, irrationally afraid that she would reject it; then she set her satchel down next to the couch and kicked off her shoes, and he exhaled in relief.  Locking the door behind them, he parked her suitcase and took off his jacket, ready to begin their life.      I never really thought this would happen.  Sara had been in Grissom’s house before, during the short period when he’d been suspended from the lab, but it had been all business then, if ostensibly unofficial.  She’d daydreamed about being welcome in his townhouse, but over time the idea of actually living there went from a rather hazy vision to something that seemed completely impossible.  Well, three years ago a lot of things seemed pretty impossible.  She stood next the couch, noting that Grissom had replaced the miserable excuse for a sofa he’d had before, and stretched, unkinking her spine after a long day of cramped plane seats.  As she released the stretch, warm hands landed on her shoulders and kneaded gently, and she leaned back into them, purring.  “I’m glad you’re here,” Grissom said softly.  “So am I.”  Sara sighed happily as his arms came around her waist, pulling her back into his embrace.  Grissom aligned their bodies, almost as though he wanted to absorb her, and placed a kiss on her temple; Sara relaxed against him, and they stood for a while, just enjoying each other.  But finally she pulled away.  “Okay, give me a tour.”  Grissom laughed, and did.  She’d seen the kitchen and bathroom before, and the stretch of hall between, but nothing else.  Grissom led her down the hallway and pushed open the first door, revealing his home office, which was mostly filing cabinets and bookcases.  A small desk took up most of one wall.  “Half the time I work at the big table anyway,” Grissom admitted, shrugging at the slight clutter.  “This is more to keep the papers out of the living room.”  “Gotcha,” Sara said.  The books and journals on the shelves looked enticing, but she could always come back to them.  The second door opened to an empty room, slightly larger than the one he’d just shown her.  “This is yours,” Grissom told her, and an unexpected lump rose in her throat as she realized that he’d cleaned it out ahead of time.  “We can do whatever you like with it.”  “Cool,” Sara answered, stepping inside to glance at the small closet.  What is your problem? she scolded herself.  He said he was going to empty it for you.  But that was just it--Grissom had not only opened his house to her, he had prepared for her coming.  He does want this.  He really, really does.  For some reason, it felt all the more real.  Blinking, she wrestled her emotions under control, and turned back to him with a smile.  “It’s perfect, Gil, thanks.”  His slightly anxious look faded as he smiled back and held out a hand.  “C’mon, I’ll show you the rest.”  There wasn’t much more; the hall bath she had seen.  The master bath had an exit into the hallway, but Grissom led her into the bedroom first.  Sara took it in, the cool colors and masculine austerity, and then had to laugh at the sight of her stuffed pink lizard sitting proudly on the large bed.  It was the perfect touch; the toy all but glowed against the tidy navy bedspread, its slightly aggrieved expression adding just the right touch of absurdity.  She walked over and picked it up.  “You pulled Bob out of storage?  Sweet!”  Grissom flushed a little, and smiled at her.  “I would have done more, but I wasn’t sure where you wanted things.”  “We’ll figure it out,” Sara answered, unconcerned, and put the lizard back down.  However he felt, Grissom wasn’t used to sharing his space, and she didn’t want to overwhelm him.  Besides…we have all the time in the world.  The master bath was spacious, and Sara approved of the blue-green color scheme, which soothed the eye.  “There’s a linen closet in here--and let me show you the big one,” Grissom said cheerfully.  Sara followed him back into the bedroom, where the walk-in closet was revealed to be two-thirds empty.  She shook her head at it, amused.  “Gil, how many clothes do you think I have?  I’d need maybe half that space.”  Grissom shrugged, his ears turning a little pink.  “I didn’t use most of it myself,” he admitted.  “I just kind of compressed things.”  He gestured as though pushing things together, looking altogether adorable, and Sara decided something on the spot.  “Are you hungry?” she asked, pulling off her jacket.  “No, but I can fix you something--“ Grissom began.  Sara shook her head, and stepped into the closet to hang her jacket neatly on a hanger.  “Do you have anything that needs doing right now?”  He gave her a somewhat baffled look.  “Just bringing your suitcase in here.”  Sara returned a slow smile.  “Good.  It can wait.”  She pounced.  “Are you sure you’re not tired?” he asked breathlessly a few minutes later.  Sara looked up at him quizzically, part of her appreciating the firmness of the mattress beneath her and the rest of her appreciating the look of a mussed and aroused Grissom leaning over her.  “Do you have any evidence that I am?”  He smirked, and slid his hands under her shirt.  “Just checking.”  A few minutes later, Bob tumbled to the floor, ignored.         Chapter 1     Chapter 2     Chapter 3     Chapter 4     Chapter 5     Chapter 6     Chapter 7     Chapter 8     Chapter 9     Chapter 10 Chapter 11     Chapter 12     Chapter 13     Chapter 14     Chapter 15     Chapter 16     Chapter 17    Chapter 18     Chapter 19     Chapter 20     Chapter 21     Chapter 22     Chapter 23     Chapter 24     Chapter 25     Chapter 26     Chapter 27     Chapter 28     Chapter 29     Chapter 30     Chapter 31     Chapter 32     Chapter 33      Chapter 34     Chapter 35     Chapter 36     Chapter 37     Chapter 38 Chapter 39     Chapter 40 CSI Home Feedback