Light In The Mirror

Halfway to the Moon

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.     


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It was definitely a puzzle. Grissom stared into space, trying to work his mind around it, considering different angles and possible paths of research, and finally gave up. I guess I’ll go with tradition.

His mother had taught him that when one was a guest for dinner, one brought the hostess a gift. Over time, he knew, that custom had changed somewhat, allowing the guest to bring a gift for the household in general--usually foodstuffs or an alcoholic beverage. But he was way out of practice.

Let’s think about this logically. Sara’s a vegetarian. Therefore, the meal will be meatless. Grissom looked at the array of gleaming bottles; Pinot Noirs, Cabernets, Merlots, Zinfandels. This could mean pasta, or fish. Or maybe tofu, but he doubted it, it just didn’t seem likely when they were having a guest who was omnivorous.

I hope not, anyway. I have no idea what wine goes with bean curd.

He chose a Sauvignon from California’s Shenandoah Vineyards on the grounds that he knew it was good, wistfully passing over the winery’s Muscat with its enticing butterfly label. If it doesn’t fit, they can always drink it later.

Grissom stepped out of the liquor store into strong noon sunlight. He’d stayed up late the night before, hoping Sara would call, and had been rewarded. She was right, too; talking on the phone had been less difficult than face-to-face, and saved them both embarrassment. He’d been joking about kissing her…mostly, anyway...but the idea was extremely enticing. Especially now that he knew the taste of her, the soft fit of her mouth against his--

Grissom shook off the thought with some difficulty. Teasing himself like that was not a good idea when it was important for him to exercise patience.

Next stop, florist.

He’d done his research, knowing that in contrast to his own sleepless city, some businesses would be closed on Sunday. And again, he found himself staring at a colorful display, unsure what to choose. Roses seemed the most logical choice, and yet they were…uncreative.

Finally he settled on calla lilies that caught his eye repeatedly; they were a deep rose that shaded towards a quiet pink on the edge, and seemed as elegant as Sara herself to him.

As he left the shop, arm full of bouquet, Grissom hoped he wasn’t too over the top. But the flowers seemed right, an offering to reinforce the message he was trying to send. Certainty, remember?



A few hours later he emerged from the Metrorail station near the Sidle house, only to wince at the intense heat and humidity. Not wanting to arrive drenched in sweat, Grissom decided to take a taxi, but as he walked towards the waiting cabs, a horn tooted at him. Sara’s convertible was waiting.

He couldn’t help smiling. Sara leaned over and opened the door for him as he approached, and he ducked inside with his packages and a tease. “You could have called, you know.”

Her dimples appeared again. “There’s no cellphone reception when the train’s underground.”

“Touché.” Resisting the urge to return the kiss she’d given him the night before, he handed her the paper-wrapped bouquet, and watched with delight as she pinkened.

“Grissom, you didn’t have to bring me anything.”

“Just think of it as my starting to catch up.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that, and felt himself redden in turn as she looked over, eyes wide. But if her shy smile was any indication, he’d said more-or-less the right thing.

“They’re gorgeous,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Another awkward moment, but laced with warmth. Sara ducked her head over the flowers, as though getting a closer look, and Grissom busied himself with his seatbelt. Then she handed them back. “Hold them while I drive?”

“Sure.” Grissom settled the flowers on his lap, athwart the bag that held the wine bottle and a couple of other things, and Sara started the car.

The drive was short and quiet, neither of them knowing quite what to say, but as they entered the townhouse they walked into the fragrant smell of baking bread, and noise--the woody tones of an amateur on clarinet, and Joey shouting. As they started up the stairs, the music squeaked to a stop, and Kimmy’s voice rose over Joey’s, complaining that she couldn’t practice with him yelling. Sara rolled her eyes and took the stairs two at a time.

“Yo!” she called as her head cleared the railing. “It’s guest behavior time! What’s the problem, Joseph?”

Grissom, following, could only marvel as she settled Joey’s question and acceded to Kimmy’s demand that she be allowed to stop clarinet practice since Doctor G had arrived. Then Joey was tugging at Sara’s shirt; she bent down to listen to his whisper, then shot Grissom a look that mingled amusement and resignation. “Sure, why not; might as well get it over with.”

Joseph grinned and ran upstairs; Kimmy gave Grissom a reserved “hello” and began taking her clarinet apart; and Sara came back over to where Grissom was standing by the stairs, and took the bouquet again. “Make yourself comfortable. But better look for Legos on the couch cushions before sitting down.”

Grissom let the corner of his mouth turn up. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

Ed emerged from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. “Glad you could make it,” he said, all open friendliness, and Grissom was struck at the similarity between brother and sister--the unafraid gaze, the willingness to meet things head-on. Sara had lost some of that confidence during her last year in Las Vegas, but it had returned, and Grissom figured that if Ed was the reason, Grissom owed him thanks.

“So am I,” he replied, and pulled out the wine bottle and handed it to Ed. The younger man took it, brows going up in approval.

“Perfect. That’s a good winery; ever been there?”

Grissom shook his head, setting his bag down in an unoccupied corner. At that moment, Joey came bounding back down the stairs holding a large sheet of construction paper. He ran up to Grissom.

“This is for you because you found me,” he announced. Grissom took the dark red sheet; letters cut from different colors of paper were pasted across most of it to spell out “Thank you Doctor Grissom”. The various blobs of glitter scattered around were, Grissom deduced, meant to be insects, since they each had three lines sticking out of each half and two shorter ones out of one end.

“Wow, this is pretty amazing. Thank you, Joey.” He looked down at the little boy, trying to treat the gift as it deserved, and saw the same clear innocence he used to see in Lindsey’s eyes.

Joey, overcome with a fit of shyness, retreated a little to press against Ed’s hip. “Aunt Sara said you liked bugs,” he explained, and Grissom nodded.

“I do. I used to keep them as pets.”

“Gross!” Kimmy said from where she was packing up her instrument, but Joey’s face brightened.

“What kind of bugs?”

Grissom held out a hand, palm up. “A spider almost as big as this, and giant cockroaches.”

“They hissed, Joey,” Sara added. “I saw them once. They were bigger than your toy cars.”

“Whoa.” Joey was obviously impressed.

“And he can tell you all about them after dinner,” Ed cut in easily. “First, though, you both have homework to do, right?”

Amid assorted groans, the siblings trudged upstairs. Sara tugged gently on the poster. “I’ll put it aside until later.”

He relinquished it, and Ed jerked a thumb at the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

The big room wasn’t as bright as the last time Grissom had seen it, but it was still comfortable. Ed pulled three bottles from the fridge and opened them, handing one each to his sister and Grissom as Sara followed them in. An array of sliced vegetables waited on the counter, and Ed started scooping them into a large wok as Sara opened the oven door. The scent of broiling fish drifted out.

“Bread’ll be done soon,” Ed commented, hands full of snow peas, and Sara nodded, but before she could reply Kimmy’s voice spoke from the intercom grille on one wall.

“Aunt Sara? I need some help.”

Sara closed the door and sighed melodramatically. “Why is it always me?”

“You’re more fun than me,” Ed retorted, setting the wok on a burner, and Sara rolled her eyes.

“Sorry about this. I should be back in a minute,” she said to Grissom, then picked up her beer bottle and padded out of the room.

“Take your time, it gives me a chance to grill him,” Ed called after her, and Grissom turned just in time to see the rude gesture she made before she vanished. Ed chuckled. “Some things never change. The kids love her,” he added, turning on the stove.

“She’s an excellent teacher,” Grissom acknowledged, a little wary. “She was mentoring our newest CSI just before she left, and doing an outstanding job.” He didn’t know what Sara had told Ed about her abrupt departure from Las Vegas, or the reasons behind it.

“She says she’s not good with kids, but she is,” Ed agreed. “She saved our lives, coming to help.”

“I meant to say earlier, I’m sorry for your loss,” Grissom said quietly.

Ed looked up from the stir-fry. “Thanks. It’s not as bad as it used to be,” he said frankly, and then smiled a little. “Y’know, you’re one of the few people I’ve heard say that without sounding either insincere or smarmy.”

Grissom blinked, not sure what to make of that. “It’s--I see a lot of loss, in my line of work.”

“I’ll bet.” Ed picked up a bottle and added a squirt of something to the steaming wok. “Have you ever lost anyone, Doc?”

“Not like that.” Grissom leaned against the counter, looking idly down at his beer bottle. Condensation was pearling along its sides.

“But you have lost someone,” Ed stated, tilting the wok a little over the flame.

It couldn’t be the beer, he’d barely had a swallow or two, but nevertheless Grissom was moved to an insane honesty. “Your sister.”

Ed said nothing, but his small curious smile invited Grissom to continue.

He tightened his fingers on the bottle’s neck nervously. “I let her get away from me. It took me way too long to straighten things out in…in my head, and then I did something stupid and I didn’t try to fix it. I thought it was too late.” Grissom looked down at his beer again. “When the chance came up again, I couldn’t turn it down.”

Ed nodded, and picked up a spatula to stir the food. For a minute or so the kitchen was silent except for the hiss of the steam. Then Ed spoke again.

“When Jenny died, I didn’t sleep. I would sit out in the living room with a soda, waiting for morning, and every so often I would run upstairs to check on the kids. Making sure they were all right, you know?”

Grissom nodded, understanding what Ed meant--that he’d had to reassure himself that his children, at least, were still breathing.

“Sara was sleeping in the spare bedroom then. I’d go upstairs at, oh, two or three in the morning, and I could hear her crying.” Ed’s glance was unaccusing, but Grissom’s stomach hurt sharply at the younger man’s words. “I didn’t do anything. I suppose I should have tried to comfort her, but--“ He shrugged sadly. “I was hurting too much myself, I guess. And it wasn’t like I’d been a real brother to her in years anyway.”

Ed turned the vegetables with the spatula, examining them, and then lowered the gas a little. “After about six weeks, I didn’t hear the crying anymore. I don’t know what Sara was like in Las Vegas, Doc, but I do know she was too thin when she got here. Working for the FBI is good for her, she brightened up and she really enjoys it. She talks like she wants to spend the rest of her life here.”

Is he warning me off? Grissom wondered, a little sick. He hadn’t thought of Ed as an obstacle, but then he hadn’t really thought about the lanky man at all in the scheme of his hope of winning Sara’s heart and forgiveness.

“Then you show up when Joey gets lost,” Ed continued. “And all of a sudden I’m hearing crying in the night again.”

The pain in Grissom’s stomach knotted and climbed towards his throat. “I--“ he started, and realized he had no idea what to say.

But Ed shook his head. “She’s been a nervous wreck for two weeks,” he said. “Distracted, short-tempered, talking to herself. And if she finds out I’m telling you this, she’ll kill me,” he added in a wry tone.

Grissom cleared his throat. “I don’t understand.”

Ed smiled down at the wok. “I love my sister, Doc. We’ve spent too much time apart, but she’s a great gal and one of the best people I know. And for three years I’ve watched her bury herself in work and my kids. I’ve seen her turn invitations down flat, and I’ve seen her walk right past guys that were willing to do practically anything just to get her to smile at them. Smart guys, too.” He tilted the wok again, then lifted it from the flame and let the contents slide into a serving bowl waiting on the counter. “But she went to pieces the minute you said you wanted to come visit.

“I know what it’s like to wish every moment of every day that you could turn back time, just for one more chance with the person you love.” Ed’s words were without bitterness as he turned off the burner. “Sara’s a physicist, she’ll tell you that time travel’s impossible. But you’re her second chance, Doc. You’re the person she loves. What happened in your past doesn’t matter to me, as long as you’re a big part of her future.”

Ed sighed, turning to rest one hip against the counter, and then grinned a little at Grissom’s dumbfounded expression. “Sara’s made her life good, but it’s still missing a piece. You’re the piece,” he said, as if it explained everything.

Grissom swallowed, trying to get a handle on Ed’s extraordinary monologue. “That may be true, but it’s no guarantee that she’ll let me be a part of…of her future.”

“True.” Ed reached for his own beer. “And Sara’s more stubborn than a skunk sometimes. But…”

On some level, Grissom was aware that this conversation should be making him far more uncomfortable than it actually was. “But?”

Ed lifted the bottle at Grissom in a toast. “But you’re here.”

Grissom felt a smile coming on. “Yes. I am.” He took another sip of beer and regarded Ed thoughtfully. “Aren’t you going to threaten to kill me if I hurt her again?”

The taller man chuckled. “Is that what a good brother is supposed to do?” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes twinkling. “I don’t have to. Sara’ll kill you herself.”

Dinner was pretty much what Grissom expected, having eaten at Catherine’s any number of times when Lindsey was younger--adult conversation that worked its way around and through the kids, with detours into answering their questions. The children were well-behaved for their ages, but were somewhat wriggly with the change of having a guest.

The food was excellent; Ed, in contrast to his sister, was skilled in the kitchen, though when Grissom tendered compliments on the meal, Ed pointed out that Sara had made the bread.

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, I put the ingredients in the bread machine. So much work involved.”

“Practically chemistry,” Grissom agreed. “With the underlying uncertainty factor of working with living organisms.”

“’Under the most carefully controlled conditions of temperature, density and pressure, the organism will do what it damn well pleases’,” Ed added.

Joey’s eyes widened. “Daddy!”

Sara started laughing. Ed groaned. “It was a quote, it doesn’t count!”

“Does too,” Kimmy insisted, and Sara nodded enthusiastically.

“You could have edited it, Ed.”

Ed threw up his hands dramatically. “What do you say, Doctor G?” he appealed, grinning, and Grissom pursed his lips in mock thought.

“While there’s something to be said for preserving the pungency of the original quotation, one must consider the audience.”

Ed sighed. “You’re all against me.” With great ceremony, he rose from the table and left the room, reappearing a minute later with four quarters, which he handed to his son. Joey got up to fetch a small frog-shaped bank from the sideboard nearby, and dropped the coins inside.

Amused, Grissom looked over at Sara. She was still smiling, a little smug as she watched her nephew replace the bank next to her vase full of lilies, and she looked up and winked at Grissom.

It felt very good.



It was still strange, seeing Grissom in her family’s home, Sara thought as she watched him wandering around the living room while the kids cleared the table. Yes, he’d been in the house before, but not for any length of time, and he was observing, she could tell. Grissom perused book titles, glanced at the shelves of videos and DVDs, took closer looks at the photos, and stopped to examine the paintings that were hung here and there, all with the air of the polite scientist. It was so very like him.

He’d offered to help clean up, but Ed had chased them both out of the kitchen, and now Sara curled her legs under herself on the couch and let Grissom explore.

He had just finished his circuit of the room when the kids came out of the kitchen, and Joey went straight to Grissom, looking up at him; all his shyness appeared to have vanished over dinner. “Daddy said you’d tell me about your bugs.”

“He did,” Grissom agreed, and Joey towed him over to the couch. Grissom sat down at the opposite end from Sara, and Joey climbed into Sara’s lap with the air of one whose world was settled to his satisfaction. She kept her smile to herself and cuddled him, and listened to Grissom describe the basics of roach racing and answer Joseph’s questions. Kimmy found herself a book and sat in the big armchair, but when Ed emerged, he scooped her up and sat down himself, and she went on reading on his lap while the microbiologist listened to Grissom.

Sara decided, as she had the night before, to simply enjoy the moment. She had her family around her, the family she had only recently learned to value; she had Grissom back in her life, and while that might not be permanent, she had no desire to dwell on the future just now. Instead she interjected the occasional comment and noticed that Grissom seemed to have no trouble interacting with Joey. Every so often Grissom would lift his eyes from the boy to her, and the long deep looks…she couldn’t help returning them for at least a few seconds, though half the time she dropped her own gaze before Joey drew Grissom’s attention again.

He’s getting to me. Oh hell, he already has. And she wondered just what it was he saw in her eyes that kept him returning to them.

Eventually Ed sat up a little. “Much as I hate to interrupt, it’s time for small fry to get ready for bed. School day tomorrow.”

This was also met with protests, but Grissom’s brows went up. “Ah. I almost forgot.” He retrieved the bag that had held the wine, and handed one small package to Kimmy and one to Joey. Sara looked up at him questioningly, and was charmed to see a light flush along his cheekbones as he shrugged. “It only seemed fair,” was all he said.

Joseph’s gift was a Matchbox fire engine; Kimmy’s was a rose-pink Las Vegas sweatshirt. Both children thanked Grissom, pleased with their goodies, and Sara was somehow not surprised that he had chosen well. He’s nothing if not observant.

Her thoughts ran on ahead, presenting her with a glowing image of what it would be like with Grissom’s attention turned on her every day. For a second she wanted nothing more than to get up, yank him to his feet, and kiss him until he saw stars. But caution came right behind, whispering warnings.

It’s only been three days. That’s not enough time. And anyway, it wouldn’t be like that all the time, nothing is…

True, her heart admitted, but went on imagining. But wouldn’t it be amazing to have it even part of the time?

It was her turn to read Joey his bedtime story. Ed offered to take her place, but she waved him off; Grissom was here to get to know her family. Sara headed for the stairs after forty-five minutes, Joseph asleep and Kimmy in bed with her book--she had another half-hour before lights-out--and overheard the two men talking quietly about baseball. She paused in the darkened hallway for a minute or so, listening to their conversation as it floated up the stairs, but when she finally descended the look Grissom gave her made her suspect that he’d known she was lurking. The desire she’d tucked down under auntly concerns rose up again, and she stifled the urge to simply walk over to the couch and sit down next to him. Right next to him.

Instead, she took her previous spot, and the three of them discussed government funding and the tribulations of scientists working for bureaucracies. Looking over at her brother, Sara tried to see him through the eyes of a near-stranger: a tall, thin man with a mop of brown hair that was only beginning to go silver; lines around dark eyes and a big warm grin. A formidable intelligence countered by a boyish demeanor.

Quite a contrast to Grissom, as she tried to do the same with him--stocky to Ed’s leanness, bearded, hair closely trimmed; he was a man who turned inward instead of out, hiding his sorrows instead of letting the air reach them to heal. Equally brilliant, but quirkier.

Not that Ed doesn’t have his weird moments.

A little after nine, Grissom glanced at his watch. “I should go,” he said, and stood. “It’s a school night for you two as well.”

His glance towards Sara was uncertain, and she too rose. “I’ll run you back to the train.”

“Metro,” Ed corrected lazily. “Three years you’ve been here and you still don’t call it by its name.”

Sara scoffed. “I have better things to worry about.” She went to fetch Grissom’s bag and the poster Joey had given him.

Ed stood and exchanged handshakes with Grissom. “Thanks for coming, man. You’re welcome back any time.”

“Thank you for having me,” Grissom replied, sounding to Sara’s ear just slightly shy.

“Are you staying up?” she asked her brother, and he stretched and cracked his knuckles.

“I think so. Got an idea I want to chase down.”

They left him to it, going out the front door since Sara had left the convertible parked in the driveway. The sun was gone, and while the air was a little cooler, it was still thick with moisture.

“Want to, uh, go for a walk?” Sara asked, knowing that there was still a question to be answered.

They ambled along for almost three blocks in silence, hands in pockets; Sara had put Grissom’s poster in her car to wait for them. Finally he spoke, the question hidden in her name. “Sara?”

She stopped walking, and he did too, swinging around to regard her in the harsh light of a streetlamp. Struggling to put her thoughts into words, Sara bit her lip. “Um, I’m not sure how to put this.”

For an instant, she saw straight into him, to a terrible hurt, a returning despair, and then it was gone, hidden under a mask without expression. “You don’t have to,” he said flatly, and turned and began to stride away.

Shit. She lunged for him, missed, and gave chase. “Grissom. Grissom, wait!”

He didn’t stop, but he wasn’t running, and within a few seconds she was in front of him, blocking his path. He halted, jaw clenched, and she put a hand on his arm before he could explode. “Geez, Grissom, give me a chance to say something!”

He almost shrank from her touch, staring at her bleakly. “What do you want to say?”

“That you’re an idiot?” she offered, close to tears or laughter or yelling, she couldn’t tell which. “Grissom, I was trying to tell you that I want you to stay. If you want to, I mean--“

His eyes pinched shut, and his other hand came up to cover hers, holding it in too tight a grip; but she didn’t shake it off, instead hastily qualifying her statement. “As a friend. For now. Anything else, we’ll have to take it slow.”

Grissom let out a long breath, and his clasp loosened. “All right.” He bowed his head, as though letting a weight slip away. “All right.”

And because it was what she wanted, and what he needed, and something friends could do, she slipped into his arms and held him, under the darkened sky.



It was almost eleven before Sara got back to the house; she and Grissom had walked for a long while, saying little but more comfortable with each other than they had been since she’d left Vegas. Longer, in fact.

They’d talked briefly about forensics, and Grissom had stated that he would lease a car the next day, and see about getting some of his belongings shipped east. When she’d dropped him off in the Metrorail parking lot, he’d undone his seatbelt, hesitated, and then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before sliding out of the car.

She’d been surprised...but not so much that she couldn’t have ducked. If she had wanted to.

Now she walked softly up the stairs to the main floor, unsure if Ed was still awake; but the light was on in his study, and as she crossed the living room, his chair rolled backwards into view. “Hey,” he said quietly, leaning back to peer at her through the doorway.

Sara kicked off her shoes and came to lean against his doorsill, much as she used to do in Grissom’s office. “How’s the genius simmering?”

Ed shrugged; his hair was wild from running his hands through it, and he had a pencil stuck behind one ear and two more on his paper-strewn desk. A computer hummed to itself on a table, and the rest of the small room was taken up with bookcases crammed with texts. “Getting there.”

Sara peered at the computer screen, but microbiology was definitely not her field and she could make little of the data. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Ed waved this off. He too had the Sidle trait of being able to stay up for two or three days at a time to pursue an idea. “So how long were you two necking out there?”

Sara gave him a quelling look. “We agreed to stay friends for the moment.”

Ed’s face wrinkled up in disbelief “Friends? What the h-- heck are you doing?”

She smirked at his last-second substitution, but answered him. “He’s screwed me over too many times, Ed, I’m not sure I can trust him yet.”

Her brother took the pencil from behind his ear and tossed it onto the desk in irritation. “Sis, c’mon. The guy’s completely gone on you. You could tell him to go play in traffic and he’d do it just to make you happy.”

Sara folded her arms, a little troubled by his words. “Maybe. But I’m not ready.” She tried to figure out how to explain. “He hurt me, Ed. I can’t just...whatever, not like it didn’t happen. I have to take this slow.”

Ed let out a long breath, then shrugged, a conceding gesture. “Okay. You know what’s best for you. But Sara--” He hesitated. “Don’t wait too long. All things end sometime.”

Sorrow drew lines on his face, and Sara knew he was thinking of Jenny. She unfolded her arms, held out one hand; Ed wrapped his own bony one around it, taking comfort and giving it.



Small figures in fuzzy black-and-white flickered on the TV screen; Grissom didn’t know what he was watching, but it looked like people being chased by giant saltshakers--some old science-fiction movie, perhaps. He had the sound off, anyway, it was just something for his eyes to focus on while he thought.

That last chance was still his. He could almost feel the weight of it in his hands, a fragile thing, pulsing with life as wary as the look in Sara’s eyes.

His head ached, residue of that one black moment earlier when he’d thought that Sara was going to send him away. It had hurt, it had hurt so badly, but over even the knowledge that he would be alone was the agonizing thought that he had hurt her that deeply. It had been self-recrimination as much as anything else that had made him walk away.

But she didn’t, he reminded himself. She wants me to stay.

Now that the intensity of the past few days was over, now that his urgency to prove himself had eased a little, he could see the sense in her decision. They had been apart for three years without so much as hearing about each other, and their relationship had been on shaky ground before that. No matter how strong their attraction remained, neither of them were the same, and it would take time to learn the changes.

Grissom closed his eyes, summoning back the feel of her hug, the way her slender frame had fit against his, the spicy-sweet scent when he’d turned his face into her hair. It had felt so good, as thought it were something he’d been missing for a long time.

Maybe it is.

He looked at the screen again. The saltshakers were apparently having a meeting of some kind.

I have six months to start with. More if I want it. He’d already been thinking of leaving the Vegas crime lab anyway, but if he was going to stay in Virginia even for just six months he needed something to occupy his time.

Not that I wouldn’t love to spend all my time with you, sweetheart, but you have other things to do. He smiled a little at the Sara who wasn’t quite there, and began considering options.

And dreaming of holding her again.



Monday morning was as normal as mornings ever got around the Sidle house. Sara came down to start the coffee and found that Ed had not, in fact, gone to bed the night before, so she routed him out of his study and sent him upstairs, complaining, to shower and shave before work. Most days she would have let him call in to his lab and chase whatever idea he had, but she knew he had a meeting that he couldn’t miss.

So did Sara. She ate her toast, making a mental rude gesture at both Grissom and Gracie for teasing her, then dressed a little more formally than usual--a buttoned blouse instead of a pullover one, and the silver chain with the tiny magnifying glass charm that Nick had sent her last Christmas. Interacting with bureaucracy went better when she knew she looked formidably professional.

But her concentration was disturbed when she reached her desk, one small cubicle in the midst of others, because on it was a vase of roses, pink and white this time. Dumping her purse next to the display, Sara reached for the card, struggling to control her expression. She knew some of her colleagues were watching; Security would have brought up the delivery from the front desk, and the guards were never subtle.

The small card held just two words, but they broke her smile free.

Thank you.