A/N: Here it is-we 'got there'-the last chapter. Hope you enjoyed this little story! Let us know!

Getting There

Chapter 10

(Several months later) Mt. Charleston Wilderness area, northwest of Las Vegas

Sara leaned against the sun warmed rock and folded her jacket into a pillow. She could sleep anywhere and her perch at the edge of a mountain meadow meant her rock got a full-day of sun. She adjusted her hat to shade her face, literally willing her thumb and index finger to grasp the edge of the wide brim. That done, she relaxed. She could hear the low drone of insects among the spring flowers and see her husband as he bent over a patch of purple wildflowers. Every now and then she heard the shutter of his camera as he documented certain insects—mostly bumble bees—but she knew he could not resist butterflies.

The year before he had wandered the mountainsides with camera and specimen containers, picking up dead bees to study and, by accident, had found one bumble bee thought to be extinct from the area. He was so uncertain of his find that he sent it to a small conservation and habitat management group who responded with an application for a grant and a short letter saying he had found a Bombus occidentulis—the western bumble bee thought to exist in only a few places when it had once been the most common bumble bee in the western half of the U.S.

She chuckled as she remembered their celebration of the grant letter—cherries and whipped cream and half the night playing with each other. Those thoughts sent a cascade of auto-responses through her body—and she felt the familiar warmth bloom below her belly and tingling her spine, causing a pale blush from her chest to her cheeks. That had been a night they would both remember for a very long time. She blushed again thinking about what they had done with those cherries.

Looking for Grissom, she saw his hat weaving among flowers and a bright reflection of his camera lens. She yawned. They had arrived at the meadow shortly after sunrise, hiking for four miles, on a seldom used switchback trail. Together they had placed grid markers on an area the size of a tennis court and then they waited—eating sandwiches and cookies—until the sun's warmth brought the insects to the flowers. This was their fifth month on the mountainside and they had followed the sun and flowers. This meadow had proven to be a treasure of activity. Ringed with trees, the land sloped slightly to the south and the wildflowers had been incredible since early spring—blooming in colors of gold and yellow, scarlet red, purples and pinks. Sara had learned names of a dozen flowers, which flowers the big bees preferred, and how to identify a dozen smaller bees.

Most of the time she took photographs while Grissom captured and documented the bees; only three times had he captured the elusive western bumble bee, but those three proved they were not extinct in southern Nevada. They were surviving in a hole or burrow in this isolated wilderness. The first photo had created a tremendous "buzz" of excitement and he had gotten a dozen requests to assist in his work; he made promises for next year.

Sara shifted her position, flexed her right hand, and pinched air with thumb and index finger. Progress, she thought. More surgery had been discussed, but postponed for now. She made a circle using thumb and two fingers. The ring and little finger refused to cooperate as she raised her hand to her eye and pretended she had made a telescope as she looked skyward.

"Finding anything interesting?" Grissom asked, standing over her, a smile on his face.

She laughed. "Just doing hand therapy."

He held a small net in his palm. "Got another one—that's four!" He scanned the area, "Wish I could find a nest."

Sara watched as he examined the bee. It crawled to the edge of the net and onto his palm. Sara handed him a blue marker as he lifted the net away and carefully placed a small dot on the bee's wing. Sara reached for her camera and rapidly pressed the shutter getting a dozen photos before the bumble bee flew away.

Grissom grinned as Sara moved back to her rock. Kneeling beside her, he asked his usual, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Getting my vitamin D—strong bones."

He took her right hand, gently massaging it between his hands, his thumbs on her palm. "Do you remember the day I asked you to marry me?"

She made a quiet laugh. "How could I forget?"

"You came out to those hives and you hated bees." His hands covered hers, "to see me and you took your glove off. I knew I had to marry you when you let a bee crawl on your hand." He chuckled, kissed her, and continued, "Then that darn bee stung you!"

Her thumb had found his. "I freaked out," she whispered.

"Did you?" He shifted his position to sit beside her. "You seemed so calm." His hand moved to her abdomen. "Took a while but we finally got there."

"We did, didn't we." She covered his hand with hers and settled her head against his chest. "It's funny how things work out—getting there—married—and here we are in a quiet place—just us." She smiled and sighed, "Surprises me how similar hunting bees and crime scenes are."

She felt Grissom's deep chuckle. "No blood."

"And no bullets."

"And when it rains we can stay at home."

She felt his lips touch her hair. "You know, Sara, you can't keep coming up here."

"Another month—and won't the bees move lower?"

Grissom shook his head. "They will, but you shouldn't be out here—this isolated, even a two mile walk on these trails is not a walk in the park for…" his hand moved, lightly caressing her abdomen, already the size and shape of a basketball, "for a woman in your condition."

His words were so tenderly spoken, Sara knew he was being protective. She poked him with an elbow. "Oh, Gil, women go into labor and have babies everywhere. We can get home in an hour from the parking lot!"

"Not you—not us—I'm not delivering our son! This is happening in a hospital with all those doctors doing what they do best. Beside, I'm closing everything down in a month. I'll come back in the fall and look for nests."

Sara closed her eyes and smiled. "We can bring little Gilbert with us!"

Grissom grimaced. "Not Gilbert. I thought we talked about another name."

"I like Gilbert," she said with a grin. "Little Gil or Gilly—what about Bert or Bertie?"

He groaned. "Oh, honey—don't do this to our little boy!"

She opened her eyes and looked at him over her sunglasses. "Okay, pick a name—you have to have one you like."

By his quick response, Sara knew he had given thought to naming his son.

"James—James Sidle Grissom."

His choice surprised her and she sat up. "James—Jamie, Jimmy, Jim—as in Jim Brass?"

He nodded. "Jim would be honored—delighted and he's always been a good friend—to both of us. He loves you like a daughter—has for years. And with all that's happened…"

Sara nodded. "And his retirement coming up-that's a good idea. I like it."

'All that's happened' included a health scare with his heart following the discovery of Ellie's body in a ravine in California. And even though he had not heard from her in years, the loss and grief had devastated him.

"James Grissom—that's good," Sara smiled. "As long as I can call him Jamie while he's a baby."

"You can," Grissom leaned over and kissed her; he pushed a dark curl behind her ear. "Now, can I get another sandwich before looking for number five?"

Giggling, Sara kissed him; she knew she wanted to kiss him more than he wanted a sandwich.

The End (and we look forward to hearing from all of you-come on, you can review! Ideas, suggestions, continue a previous story? We would love to know what you think we should write next! Maybe a return to Costa Rica?)