I can't complete posting this story without mentioning again how influential and beneficial to this effort my beta-readers have been. This Epilog is the brain child of Allie, who "saw" this scene and shared the idea with me. This ending is really hers. Thank you, Allie.

Janet Kauk has told me repeatedly how surprised she has been that I found her efforts on this project so useful. I don't think I will ever understand why. She has a wonderful grasp of plot and flow, and to a great extent, it is because of her that the characters' voices ring so true. Thank you, Janet.

A big thanks to all the readers of this tale who have taken the time to respond with comments and encouragement. For an amateur writer there can be no greater reward.

Cheers!

This story is based on characters created by Anthony E. Zuiker for the television series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

Remuneration, Epilog
by Cheers

Most of the flowers had withered and died. The stuffed animals had been scattered and some were already fading from the exposure to the desert sun. A simple wooden cross, now tilted to one side, had become the center of the makeshift shrine behind the Albertson's where Shelly's body had been discovered.

Looking around, he found that he was completely alone. Crouching down, he set the cross upright again. Carefully, he gathered the scattered gifts, candles, and cards and rearranged them neatly around the cross. After this was done, he carefully laid the bunch of freshly picked wildflowers he had brought with him in front of the cross.

Gil Grissom stayed there for several moments and stared at the cross. "Flowers are a best thing for a sad heart," she had told him.

No, he told the cross silently. Kindness is a best thing for a sad heart. Shelly's small act of kindness had touched him in a place so deep that he had been startled by the effect. He had carefully walked through his life making sure as few people as possible saw that deep into his soul.

Shelly had been one of the rare few who had seen right through him. With the joyful caring of innocence, she had tried to help. In her way, she had. Maybe more than anyone ever had.

Standing, he put his hands in his pockets.

"Thank you, Shelly," Gil said softly. "I'm going to try not to be sad anymore. I promise."

After another moment, he turned and walked away. This time, he was making a promise he intended to keep.

Fin