Epilogue

II

There had been a moment where he had decided to let her go. Easier that way, no danger, safe, secure, distanced. Dying so slowly he would think he still lived.

But when he had woken up from his third dream of her in a week, he had realised there was no letting go.

And so he left, seeking her with the winds in his back, insecurity in his bones. She might refuse to see him again.

She might not.

He clung to that thought, that lifeline and let it drive him. He had failed her. But as in fairytales, even life might offer a chance to make up for mistakes, even if it took a long, long trip beyond the horizon.

He found her at last by the sea on a San Francisco beach near the address Catherine had given him. She was standing still, northern wind in her hair, water in the wind. Hands stuffed in her pockets, she looked out on the illusion of sea and sky meeting on a blue, blue horizon. The waves broke near her feet, reaching and retreating endlessly.

'Like me,' he thought and it was a calm thought, still and true in his mind. But even the sea had a tide and a high point as it swept across the land and maybe, just maybe she was the dam that might hold him back.

She looked up and saw him and her face froze. No anger, no joy, merely a frozen look of recognition.

"Grissom," she breathed, his name swept by the wind out to sea.

"Hello Sara," he said lightly.

"How did you know where to find me?" she asked.

"Warrick."

"The traitor," she said mildly. "I expect he told Catherine and Catherine told you?"

He nodded, wondering if she realised they were her family too, and the lab was as much her home to claim as his.

"How are they all?" she asked, eyes sliding out to sea and the sky. The pale glimmer of faint moon and the roaring fire of strong sun lit her face and she was as always beautiful because he loved her and he loved her for all her beauty in mind and body.

"Good. They're all good. There might be some shift restructuring. They all miss you, especially Greg."

She nodded, her scarf tossed by the wind and he fought an urge to still it, to still her hair, to taste the salt of the ocean of her lips.

"He told me you'd gone to Norway and was hiding in the bluest mountain," he went on and she smiled for a moment, a far away look in her eyes.

"Perhaps I did, after a fashion," she replied casually.

"Speaking of Norway... Mrs. Jensen was found dead in her cell. Seems to just have slept into death."

Sara closed her eyes for a moment, something almost like sorrow crossing her face. He wanted to chase it from her life, but when he took a step closer, she looked up sharply and he was caught in her gaze, caught by the force of her hurt.

"Why did you leave?" he asked softly.

Her gaze fell on the horizon, and her face seemed to harden. "Do I really have to tell you, Grissom?"

"No." A beat, a wave crashed against the beach. "I know."

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, the question that had been lingering between them since she had spotted him.

'I came for love,' he thought. 'And here we are. East of the sun, west of the moon where I must win you back.'

"Chasing the fairytale," he said and she stared at him, waves by her feet, wind in her hair. Sea and sky, Sara and Grissom meeting. "I've come to bring you home."

II

FIN

Disclaimer: All complaints with the ambiguous ending go to AL

Author's Final Note: Much love and gratitude to AL and Anais for beta-work. Kiss-kiss, darlings. You kick ass. Also thanks to all who reviews, especially the ever-faithful ones. You've all made my day. Have some chocolate.