Making It

Author wobbear
Rating T
Pairing Grissom/Sara. Brass POV.
Disclaimer Characters not mine, never will be.
Author's note I loved CSI Clue's wonderful fic H5N1. You've heard of post-ep fics: well, I wrote a very brief post-fic fic to it. A sort of sequel. Huge thanks to CSI Clue for inspiring this and for urging me to post it.

"Hey Grissom," I say.

He's bushy-bearded, long haired, skinnier—and wary—but I'd know those eyes, those legs anywhere. 'Mountain Man' I think, but don't say. Y'know, these days, I'm not such a pretty picture myself.

Damn, it's good to see him.

The staff's in my left hand; I hold out my right. He blinks a couple of times then slowly lowers the ax, relaxing his defensive stance.

"Jim?" He shakes his head, but he's recognized me.

I move closer. He safes the ax in the tree stump he's using for a chopping block.

"Jim." He's smiling now and steps toward me. Suddenly I'm being bear-hugged. No kidding, a Gil Grissom bear hug. Yeah, we live in really interesting times.

Before, he didn't hug.

Finally he lets go, backs off a pace. I see a liquid sheen blurring his eyes, and I feel the prickle of tears threatening in mine.

Before, I didn't cry.

That was then.

Before … I didn't go hiking in the hills with a rifle slung over my shoulder, either.

This is now.

"Jim, uh, how …?"

"Eh--uh—" I clear my throat so I can speak. "Long story. First can you open the gate, let me drive up? Don't want to leave the car down by the road, in the open."

"Uh, yeah, of course … just need to get the key to the padlock—"

As he turns back to the cabin, the heavy wooden door opens and there she is.

Sara.

Same big gap-toothed smile, longer hair, cradling a baby in her arms. Sure it's cliché, but she's a sight for sore eyes.

"Mountain mama," I breathe out a whisper.

I hustle over and hug her awkwardly over the little one.

"Jim, you made it through!" She sounds so happy to see me; I'm gulping.

I manage, "Sara, great to see you." The baby's grinning gummily at me and I'm wiping my cheeks. My tough guy image is gone for good.

Gil's beside her now, a protective hand on Sara's shoulder. All the struggle seems worthwhile.

"Yeah, I made it." I bend over the gurgling baby, tickle its chin.

A baby. New life.

"And who's this?"

Sara's beaming. "This—" she shifts the baby around so I can see better. "This is Honey Vegas Grissom."

"Our daughter," Daddy Grissom chimes in, eyes bright with love and pride. "We made her."

Sara sniggers and I bite back a laugh. But I wonder: has his razor-sharp mind gotten dulled by … everything? "Uh, yeah Gil, I know how that works."

He narrows his eyes at me. "No, what I mean is … even after all the death, somehow we can, we do still have a future, if we work at it, if we make it ourselves." He smiles faintly and shrugs a shoulder. "I've been thinking about this recently, a lot."

He may not realize, but I do get it. I survived, so I get it in spades.

"Making some things is more fun than others," says Sara, in that husky voice. She's grinning broadly, bouncing the baby, and Grissom is starting to blush. I never really saw them together, together Before. Who'da thought? They're a cute couple.

"Anyway, I'll get the gate key." All business now, Grissom ducks into the cabin while Sara and I gawk at each other.

"Jim, um … h-how did you find us?"

"Well, you got added to the NSL about six months back." I remember it, crystal clear. That was a great day.

"NSL?" Grissom is back, holding a bunch of keys.

" Nevada Survivors List."

"We're a bit out of it up here," he says. "Get snatches of radio, but—"

"Melissa," Sara interrupts. "Melissa, she radioed in, added us to that list."

"Melissa?" I ask, eyes darting from one to the other.

"Yeah, our nearest neighbor," Grissom explains. "Park ranger, lives with her son at the old ranger station four miles east of here."

"You'll like her," says Sara.

END