There's a few years since I finished this story. There's been a few of you asking for the remaining chapters, and here's chapter three. :-) It's still a brutal case Gris and Co are working on.. -Res

Chapter 3

"Keep me posted. If any witnesses should come forward you tell me, okay?" Grissom told Brass. He wanted most of all to run his fist through a wall. He wanted Renkin to be the killer, no- he needed him to be the killer… Now he was back on square one with nothing to offer the grieving parents.

And as to speak of the devil, his telephone rang the second he entered his office. It was Mrs. Stevens.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you in your work, Mr. Grissom. I just wanted… I was just wondering… if you've made any progress…?"

His shoulders tightened with tension and shame.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Stevens, we still have no suspects in sight. But the case is our first priority and investigators work on it twenty-four seven."

There was a long silence in the other end until she spoke up again with determination in her voice.

"I want to see her, Mr. Grissom. I want to see my little girl."

A quick glimpse of a body beaten beyond recognition flashed before his eyes.

"Of course, I'll arrange for you to see her. How about tomorrow around one p.m?" What was he doing?! The mother would be scarred for life if she was to see what her little girl had been through!

"Yes. We'll be there. Thank you Mr. Grissom, goodbye."

There was a small click and the line went dead. Grissom sank down in his office chair, hiding his face in his hands. The man who'd dealt with humanity at its worst throughout so many years had met his match. He wasn't strong enough for this one. It had crept under his skin.

He was unusually quiet, even for the new Grissom when he left the office that night.

Sarah and Catherine exchanged worried looks and even Warrick noted something not quite right with the way his boss walked. Little did they know where he was headed. Vegas is an odd place, and even some of the shops providing baby-clothes were still open this late hour. Grissom hesitated for a moment before he went inside. The soft smell of baby powder was the first detail that struck him as he entered a room filled with tiny clothing in all colors and forms. There was even a shelf with tiny little Halloween outfits for newborns.

He halted, not knowing where to go and a helpful woman rushed to his aid:

"Can I help you, Sir? Are you looking for something special?" she smiled and flashed dangerously white teeth.

He nodded his confirmation.

"I need an outfit for a six months old girl. It's important that it covers her entire body and the back of her head."

The woman gave him an odd look, as if he'd just stated he was the president of America, but she recovered well and lead him the way towards some rows with pastel-colored outfits.

Five minutes later he was back out on the street, carrying a small paper bag in his hand. The woman had asked him if he was a godfather or uncle to the girl, and he had blatantly told her the little girl who was to wear this was dead. It was a cruel thing to do and he felt ashamed as he walked down the street, but sometimes a tired soul forget to proofread before publishing.

*-*

She had been a pretty little thing, just like all babies are. But her cheeks lacked the roses and the baby padding, her body wasn't as plump as it should be around this age and somehow she looked, even in death, frightened and terrified. Young Melissa had been through more pain than most people with longer lifetimes encounters, and she had missed the one thing most important to all human beings; love.

Gil Grissom dressed her silently, with careful fingers he gave the child some warmth as proofs were hidden from the eye to see. The outfit he'd bought was all in white, and looked very much like a baptism outfit. Only her face and hands were visible when he finished by putting on a tiny white laced cap, and brushed a pale cheek with a trembling finger. She looked like she was sleeping.

He sat with her until Robbins came by and told him the parents had arrived and were waiting in Grissom's office.

"Do you want me to get them for you?" he asked and shoved his glasses back on top of his nose.

Grissom rose on weary feet. "No. I'll bring her to them. I don't like the atmosphere in here."

Immediate silence filled the halls as Grissom walked the short way from the lab to his office. It didn't feel right to speak or to even move as Melissa was to be reunited with her parents. Even Ecklie kept his mouth shut for once.

The mother came rushing towards him the second he entered his office. Grissom handed the baby carefully over to her.

"I'll be down the hall. Take your time Mr. and Mrs. Stevens," he mumbled and turned to leave. Just as he walked out the door Mrs. Stevens started singing in a low, trembling tone.

"Hush little baby, don't you cry…"

Grissom had the one thing that could give the broken family a new start, but could he offer it to them?

*-*

A week passed, and there was no evolvement in the Melissa-case. Grissom was to be seen at his office both day and night now, working furiously, searching for clues he might have overlooked or had missed completely.

Sarah, who was his partner on the case, started to get worried. He still gained weight and there was something… weird about him. He was short tempered and silent, and he looked dog-tired all the time. She'd tried to convince him to take some time off, at least when he wasn't supposed to work, but there was no response from him at all. He simply ignored her. His back seemed to be bothering him as well and she had even offered to rub his neck without any luck. Catherine also seemed to worry about him, but she had decided not to interfere anymore.

Little did Sarah know about the growing burden Grissom was carrying and the plan forming in his mind. He had decided now, and tomorrow he would make the Stevens the offer, through a third part of course. It was the best solution in the end. Both the Stevens and the child he carried would be offered a fresh start, and Grissom could live in solace, knowing the baby would be loved and protected. Parents who've already lost a child the most horrendous way will never allow it to happen again.

*-*

He sat by the telephone in hushed anxiety. Dr. Weisman should have contacted the Stevens by now and any moment the phone would ring, giving him great or bad news. Down in his stomach a tiny hand patted the inside of his abdomen, a tiny movement that sent shudders of fear up the experienced man's spine.

"This is what's best for the both of us!" he told his stomach and returned the careful push with his hand. "I don't have anything to offer you, you would be miserable in my care!"

The movements stopped, and Grissom leaned back with a sigh. He wished the phone could ring so he could get it over with. For once his wish was granted and he grabbed the phone before it had chimed through once.

"Is it you, doc?" he asked impatiently.

"Grissom, I presume?" Weisman stated at the other end of the line. Grissom ran his free hand trough slowly graying hair. "I made a house visit to the Stevens this morning, in fact I've just returned from there. I'm quite happy to inform you they were thrilled by the offer! In fact they've already signed the adoption papers! All that remains now is your signature and a confirmed date for the C-section, and you won't have to worry about fatherhood anymore!" Grissom could hear him smiling, and quite frankly he smiled himself.

"Thanks doc, that's great news! I'll stop by tomorrow to sign the papers and set the date."

"Well, uhm... there is one more thing", Weisman added hesitantly; "they would love to meet you. They don't know you are a man of course, but I could arrange for you to meet under the impression that you are the father of their child?"

"No! They can never know my true identity, Weisman! I investigate the murder of their little girl, for God's sake! How do you think they would react if they found out the man leading the investigation of their murdered child don't bother about his own?! I want to remain anonymous!" Grissom told him determinedly.

"All right, I just wanted to check with you in case you had changed your mind," Weisman apologized. "Stop by my office tomorrow at twelve."

Grissom agreed and hang up. The great relief he was sure he would feel if the deal went in order didn't turn up, and he couldn't help feeling something like a traitor. His parents had divorced when he was five years old, and he never forgave his father for that. But then Grissom Senior hadn't been much of a part in his life anyway. Grissom soon learned that he had no true father, and that he and his deaf mother had never received the affection and attention he owed them. But this was different! This child would grow up with two loving, caring parents instead of a single father who never wanted to have a child in the first place. Some day, with the right woman of course – but not alone, not like a freak guinea pig!

He decided to take a hot shower to take his mind off it all. The bathroom differed from the rest of his condo, which more or less assembled a renovated warehouse loft, with plumbing running along the ceiling. It was small and intimate with a shower, toilet sink and closets cramped together with claustrophobic elegance. Grissom had thought about expanding it, to knock down some walls and maybe even invest in a bathtub, but he didn't feel any rush. He managed just fine the way it was.

As he undressed he had to admit it was time to buy some new clothes. Even his loose sitting T-shirts were starting to cling a little too much to his body and it didn't exactly look neat… He shot a fast glance down his torso before he stepped into the hot streams of water, noticing how he was starting to look like a beach ball.

It's impossible, still I am.. he thought as poked the strange, rounded shape with one finger. He immediately got a response, and he could actually see the skin moving on the spot where the answer was given through a shove.

It took a few seconds before he realized what he was doing. He was laughing! It was a low, barely audible laugh but a wholehearted one.

The massage the hot water provided made him relax. Even though he felt uncomfortable to be naked with his growing stomach, nothing could take away the resilience a shower gave him. And he reckoned he needed some backbone. Tomorrow was the day he would hand away his own flesh and blood.

*-*

"Where do I sign?"

He was in a hurry. Grissom didn't want to give himself the chance to change his mind. This was for the best, he'd decided that a long time ago. And no rash, newfound feelings would change that. Weisman pointed out the dotted lines where he was to sign after asking him one last time if he was sure.

"Maybe you should wait until after it is born? You wouldn't be the first one to change your mind after giving birth, you know..."

Grissom shook his head as he signed with furious movements: "When you perform the C-section you'll drug me so I'll stay unconscious during the whole procedure. I don't want to see it."

"All right, maybe that is for the best", the doctor agreed. "Now for a date. I'd prefer for you to carry it as close to term as possible. Considering your health status and the lack of problems in the pregnancy so far, I reckon you can wait four more weeks. How about Friday the 19th? That way you will have the whole weekend to recover from the C-section and no one ever needs to know."

Four more weeks... Grissom moaned at the thought. He would be as big as a house by the end of this!

"The date is all right and all", he pointed out: "but that doesn't explain how I suddenly drop 40 pounds of weight!"

The doctor smiled.

"I have a solution for that!" He leaned across the desk." In your medical file the C-section will be replaced with a surgical removal of a large cyst. They sometimes grow large enough to become the size of a beach ball, you know."

"Swell, I'll see you in a few weeks time then!" Grissom said and rose from the chair with some difficulty.

"Not so fast! These last weeks I want to check your blood pressure and the position of the fetus at least once a week!" Weisman demanded. "As the baby grows, so does the risks for dangerous side effects."

"All right doc, anything you say!" Grissom grinned. "*Now* can I go?"

*-*

It was done. He had signed the papers. On the other end of Vegas a couple would become parents within four weeks, and Grissom would be freed from the responsibility, placed upon his shoulders by an underground cult of science geeks. He'd been going through his own case file the latest days, trying to get to know the ones who had done this to him a little better. They were eighteen in all, members of some sort of cult longing for a world where woman and man were equal. And they had succeeded, at some point, by achieving something many believed impossible; they had impregnated a man. The file told of large findings of scientific equipment, showing that these bozos actually had a broad knowledge in the field of biological research. But no one of the forensic investigators or doctors noticed the tiny implant already growing inside the one the cult had kept captive as some kind of guinea pig for their experiments.

He walked out in the rain, feeling relieved to be closer to an end now. Four weeks should rush by just like that as long as you had a job like Grissom's. With both a light and heavy heart he headed for work, early as usual.

Sarah sat in his office waiting for him when he arrived. The look on her face told him she wasn't there to chat about the bad weather.

"You're in early today?" Grissom stated politely and hang his jacket on a hat-stand he kept by the door.

"Well, Catherine and I have a hypothesis I decided to test today", she told him silently as her eyes followed him to the desk.

"Really?" He sat down behind the desk and gave her an intriguing look. "And what's that?"

"That you spend more time at work than you spend at home. We think you're too attached to the Melissa-case, and Catherine has volunteered to take it off your hands."

"Really?" He raised his brow, a little smirk playing in the corner of his mouth. "I must admit this case has gotten to me, probably because the death of an infant is involved. But I thought you knew me well enough to see that I never would let my personal feelings affect my cases?"

Sarah sighed, and looked at him with blue eyes running over with worry.

"It's not the case we are worried about, Grissom – it's you. You drive yourself too hard."

Her honesty was brutal and a fierce punch to his self-esteem. He was under the impression he was doing pretty well, leading his team behind the light, but he was wrong. And he had four more weeks to go. Damnit!

"I feel responsible", he mumbled, fumbling with his reading glasses as he spoke. "When I found her I decided I would find the creep who did this to her and here I am, two weeks later, with no leads, nothing. Somewhere there might be another child, being abused and beaten only because of my impotence. That bugs me, Sarah, and *that* is the reason I'm using all my energy on this case. There's no other way."

"Let me share that responsibility then", Sarah demanded, "I'm a part of this investigation too, and I want to catch that bastard just as much as you do."

He lifted his gaze and had a thorough look at her, the Trainee, and realized she'd grown up. She was a forensic investigator, as dedicated as he was if he just gave her the chance.

"All right, that sounds like a fair deal. Do you want to go over these witness-statements with me?" A warm smile embraced his weary soul and for the first time in weeks he enjoyed another human being's company.

*-*

Two more weeks to go. He woke up feeling restless and heavy, knowing he looked like a stranded whale. Grissom arched out of bed, ashamed of his own clumsiness. There wasn't much grace in the forensic investigator's steps any more. But at least it all would be over soon.

He counted himself lucky not to have encountered too many of the plagues harassing his female "compadres" in the same situation. Sure, his back hurt 24/7 and his ribs were sore and bruised after hours of kicking, shoving and poking, but he coped and that was what mattered. The doctor was concerned about his welfare and had ordered him to cut down on his workload, but Grissom didn't take orders and what he chose to do in his own life was none of the doc's business!

Still they were standing without clues in the Melissa-case, and Ecklie was already on Grissom's back, nagging for him to close the case. But Grissom wasn't ready. He could not let go of little Melissa, not yet. He wobbled down the hall, ignoring the daily giggles from the dayshift, not wanting to waste any energy that could be spent elsewhere.

"Hi, Grissom, you're looking fiiine today!" one of Ecklie's cute young interns purred with a devious spark in her eye.

"Thank you, Gloria. I'd button that top button in your blouse if I were you, Ecklie might fall down in your little Grand Canyon there", Grissom shot back with a smirk. Some of the old boy in him was still left. Her insulted face immediately summoned her boss, the infamous Ecklie.

"I would watch my tongue if I were you!" he spat: "Sexual harassment isn't a joke these days!"

No, you are! Grissom thought, but wisely kept it to himself.

"Any more leads on the case you refuse to close?" Ecklie added to sprinkle some salt in an open wound. And he got what he wanted. Grissom turned into the very man you don't mess with in an instant.

"I'll close that case when *I* see it fit!" he snarled and left his "coworker" to giggle in peace.

He entered his office, irritation gnawing at his mind, and headed for the desk to have a look on today's incoming messages. There was one, from Greg, regarding the one and only real clue in the Melissa-case. He was 88 percent certain the yellow fiber descended from a baby blanket, and it wasn't some cheap shit, this was the exclusive sort of baby blankets. A thought stirred in the back of Grissom's head, but he couldn't grab the essence of it. And as he sat there, running through his mind a sharp pain jolted through his back. His eyes widened in surprise and he couldn't suppress a moan that forced its way up his throat.

Holy shit! There it was again, and this time the pain settled down in his abdomen like burning nails. He tried to stand up, but that only sent new and fiercer jolts of fire down his back so he froze to the spot. If he sat just like this for a while, then maybe it would pass. It would pass, it had to!

He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else.

*-*

Sarah arrived at work an hour later than Grissom. As usual the halls were swarming with the latest rumors of the reasons of Grissom's weight-gain and, of course, the woman he'd knocked up. She'd bought some bagels to cheer up her mentor, who'd been very quiet and tired-looking lately. And he never seemed to stop gaining weight. The loose shirts he usually wore now were three sizes too small and he had no chance buttoning his lab coat any more. Sarah could ask him of course, but she knew how protective he was about his personal life. There was a greater chance of hell freezing over than of Grissom telling Sarah intimate details about his body…

She knew instantly something was wrong. Grissom sat by his desk, papers in front of him, seemingly doing paperwork. But his eyes weren't right. Instead of darting across the paper in front of him they stood still, frozen to one spot. His reading glasses lay beside the papers, neatly folded. He made the impression of reading, and thereby working, but he wasn't. What could be the reason to that?

«Grissom?» She moved further into his office.

«What?» he mumbled, his eyes never leaving the paper.

«What's wrong?» she asked, as she stopped opposite him. She put down the bag of bagels on an unused spot of his desk.

«I'm working, nothing's wrong,» the reply came after some seconds silence.

«You're not working!» Sara affirmed.

«Please, I'm busy. Come back later if there's nothing of importance you have to nag me with!» Grissom replied through gritted teeth. Still he was glaring at the piece of paper. Sarah rolled her eyes. Grissom and his god damn weird habits!

«I'll go, as soon as you tell me the reason of your discomfort!» she said, folding her arms across her chest to give away challenging appearance .

«I'm. Working.»

«No. You never sweat during something as simple as paperwork. The only reasons you might be sweating in this office would be one: It's above 90 degrees in here, as it's not. Two: you're nervous, down right scared for your life, or three: you're suffering from immense pain. As I see your eyes are bolted down to that piece of paper I choose reason three, you know why?»

«Enlighten me,» it came, barely audible.

«If you look up, or do anything to change the way you are seated, you'll loose your concentration. And right now all your will is used for one purpose, and one purpose alone - to suppress pain.»

Grissom was silent for a long while. Still he was staring at that mysterious spot in the sheet of paper in front of him. Then he finally started to lift his gaze, slowly, slowly. He had a stern look on his face, a determined one. And although his eyes were burning, they didn't give him away. His mouth did, the moment he parted his lips and inhaled a little too sharply. Sarah couldn't believe the man in front of her didn't howl out loud with pain.

«I think I need a ride… to the hospital…» he whispered.

*-*

She had no idea of how he managed to look so calm and relaxed as they walked down the halls towards the exit. He wouldn't let her call an ambulance, and he wouldn't let her steady him as they headed down the halls.

"Pretend... everything is… fine.." he managed to push through his lips as she opened the door to his office. Sarah nodded, a bit confused, but she didn't argue with him. Sarah was afraid he would collapse if she juggled his concentration. Thankfully no one seemed to take special notice of the slow moving duo and the strained look on Grissom's face. The sinews at the sides of his throat were so tense they looked like they were about to rip.

Finally they reached Grissom's jeep and she helped him inside, wincing as she sensed the pain cursing through his body. Sarah got behind the wheel and roared out on the road, already setting the course to the nearest hospital in her mind.

"Memorial… Hospital!" the man beside her moaned as he doubled over in pain.

"What?!" she yelled in panic: "That's the one furthest away! What about La Vinga?"

"No. Mem..orial... doc.. Weis… man…", he managed to pant, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road.

Sarah silently obeyed, and turned the car on whining tires towards the nearest exit. "Do you know what's wrong? Why are you in such pain??" she asked him loudly, as if he'd lost his ability to hear her.

"..Ulcer…"

Sarah gave him a sarcastic look.

Ulcer, my ass! she thought, but she didn't argue with him. The only important thing now was to get him to a hospital. He obviously had some sort of stomachache the way he crouched over his large belly, but what kind of stomachache?

*-*

Fireworks went off in his head on the way to the hospital. Grissom was silently wondering if the thing inside him was slowly ripping him apart, or if it would pop out of his belly like an alien. Sarah looked like she was near hysteria and she was driving like a lunatic, repeating over and over again that they would be at the hospitable soon, that he wouldn't need to worry. He reckoned it was more to calm herself than him, but he appreciated the effort. He had tried to call Weisman from his office the thirty minutes he sat there in solace, but he hadn't even managed to pick up the phone. How he later rose up from the chair and actually walked, he had no idea!

Sarah drove right to the ambulance drop off-spot, where a nurse immediately came running with a wheelchair.

"Take him to doctor Weisman!" Sarah yelled as she ran round the car to help Grissom out. He sent her a grateful look as he was wheeled away by a nurse that seemed to have done that sort of thing before. Down the halls they went, the lights in the ceiling flashed by as Grissom was brought to Weisman's examination room. Weisman came running like an express train, anxiety embossing his every feature as he ushered the nurse out of the room. He ripped Grissom's shirt open without a word and put two firm hands on top of his patient's painfully expanded abdomen.

"Pain... down my… back." Grissom's voice was hoarse and strained.

The doctor nodded as he continued to examine his stomach with bare hands.

"Are you able to stand up, just for a little while? I think it would be more comfortable for you if we got you to lie down in that bed over there," Weisman asked and pointed at a bed a few yards to the left. Grissom closed his eyes and nodded. He kept them closed all the way to the bed and was soaking wet when he finally could lie down. The doctor continued the examination with his stethoscope and an ultrasound.

"You're having some sort of cramps," he finally told the hurting man. "They actually assemble labor! I'll give you a shot to stop the cramping, you should be just fine in about thirty minutes time." Grissom glared at the man standing above him.

"What the hell… are you... waiting for.. then!?"

*-*

Sarah had been nagging at nurses and doctors for over an hour when finally there was somebody who could direct her to the room Grissom was being treated. He lay flat out on a bed, sleeping. His face and neck was still moist with sweat, his hand rested on top of his stomach. A thin blanket had been draped around him and there were no traces left of the pain that seemed to have cursed through him earlier.

"You're Sarah?"

Sarah turned in surprise. She hadn't expected there would be anyone else in the room. She greeted the doctor, as her eyes still darted back to the man sleeping in the bed.

"Is he…?"

"He's gonna be just fine!" the doctor assured: "He just needs some rest! He has quite a nasty ulcer that bothers him from time to time, but he's agreed to an operation in a couple of weeks time and then he will be just fine, I promise!"

"Oh, that little creep!" Sarah growled. "I knew he was sick! Why couldn't he just admit it?? Why does he have to pretend he's some kind of superhuman all the time??" The doctor gave her a pat on the shoulder.

"He'll be able to go home as soon as he wakes up, but I would like for you to urge him to take it easy the next couple of weeks. He should stay away from all kinds of stress that can agitate his stomach."

Sarah couldn't suppress an angry smile.

"If you think for one moment that that man will take your warnings seriously and actually give himself some rest you are wrong, my good man!"

*-*

She settled in a chair by Grissom's bedside, and Dr. Weisman left them with some best whishes-crap she didn't even bother to listen to. All her senses were caught up by the sleeping figure in the bed next to her. He looked so vulnerable in his sleep, completely different to the Grissom she knew from work. She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing, wondering when this man would start taking care of himself the way he took care of everybody else around him. It had just occurred to her how much of a family the people at the nightshift of Las Vegas Criminal Bureau actually was, and that it was Grissom who kept them all together. He was the glue, sort to speak . He was the sort of man who might end up sacrificing everything in his quest to keep his family safe and sound, and the more she thought about it the more her respect for the man grew.

He woke two hours later, only to find Sarah greeting him with a warm smile.

"Welcome back! You gave me quite a scare, you know…"

He looked at her with one of those mysterious looks that had made him famous back at the office. Half a smirk rested in the corner of his mouth. Grissom arched up on his elbow.

"How long have I been out?"

"Two hours", Sarah answered, as her features regained a worried frown. "You have to take it easy, Grissom. I wont be part in letting you destroy yourself this way!" her hand brushed his, and the concern shining in her eyes brought guilt in Grissom's.

"Two more weeks", he mumbled: "I'll be fine. Just two more weeks." It was cryptic and spoken in half sleep, but Sarah believed she knew what he referred to.

"You're having an ulcer-operation in two weeks, yes. But until that you have to take better care of your self! I don't want to find you in your office again like the way I did today!" The centre of her attention sat up, swung his feet over the bedside, his gaze nailed to the floor now.

Her concern for him was genuine, but Grissom couldn't rely on it. There was no way of telling how she would act if he told her the truth about his sudden need of medical attention. And he needed her now, more than ever. Grissom decided he wouldn't risk loosing that; it was better if she never knew.

"You know… I never asked you how you were feeling the day you came back to work…" Sarah's voice told him silently while her fingers tugged the sleeves of her knitted sweater. "I didn't know how to ask, and the next day it was too late. I've regretted it ever since. I should have asked you! But you looked so fine, so different from the night they found you… "

Grissom's gaze shot back up. He'd never talked to anybody about what had happened to him some six-seven months ago, except from to a shrink. In return none of his coworkers had dared to ask him about it either.

"I didn't expect any words, or any fine gestures, Sarah. I just wanted things to be back to the way they were, before…" He stopped when he saw the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I never told you this", she whispered; "but I was there, at the hospital when they brought you in…" She dried her eyes with trembling fingers and looked up into the ceiling. "You were awake, but still you stared right through me, like you didn't sense I was there at all! I was so scared, Gil, I've never been more afraid in my life."

Grissom calmly grabbed her tiny little hand and placed it between his own two hands.

"I was drugged out of my mind, Sarah", he told her gently: "I had some fractured ribs, some second degree burnmarks on my thighs, and probably suffered from a hundred other little things as well."

She glared at him between the tears streaming down her face. "You were just brought in, I stayed with you *while* they drugged you…"

"Oh." Blue eyes wandered out in the room. "I can't recall any of that…"

She stood up, not speaking until they made eye-contact. "Tell me *what* you remember, if only fragments! You shouldn't keep it locked away like you always do. Talk to me!" she urged him and her free hand shyly brushed his cheek.

"That's the really scary part", Grissom mumbled gravely: "I hardly remember any of it. And that makes you wonder, doesn't it… Do you really want your memory back if there's obviously a reason for you loosing it in the first place?"

Sarah leaned towards him for an embrace.

"Promise me, if there's anything, ANYTHING, you give me a call, okay?"

He closed his eyes and inhaled the comforting scent of her perfume as he hugged her back.

"I promise", he murmured.

______________________________________________________________________________________

If you want to read the remaining 3 chapters you can go to my second Livejournal: restina2 (Just do a search for restina2 on the "site&user" box)

Hugs,

Restina