"She offered me everything." Grissom said. "Everything I'd been yearning for, for so long. I didn't know I had been, but she did. She has more insight than I ever had. I know more science but she.." his voice dropped to a whisper, and the other man looked away, ashamed to intrude on such a private moment "she is more brilliant than I can ever hope to be."

"I rejected her." He said, sighing, and looking up again. "I've thought why. It made sense at the time. She is younger, and a subordinate. It is not unknown for people on that position to develop a crush on their superiors, and that's what it was, a crush. So I turned her down."

"Oh God." He said suddenly. "I lost her. I lost her." He turned away, his back to the other man. "She was there, and I lost her, and I killed the better part of both of us when I turned her away." He breathed heavily for a moment, then turned back, control regained.

"I didn't recognise love. When in a room full of people discussing what they'd kill for, I bring in a different argument, the others turn away, lost in their own thoughts, she turns to me, challenging me, and I loved her then, and didn't know. When a man who tried to kill his wife challenges her and she stands up to him, I loved her then, and didn't know. When she almost left, and Catherine made me try to reach out to her, I loved her then. When I recognised beauty in her. When I taught her. When I learnt about her boyfriend, and for no rational reason I felt betrayed by her. When I saw her hurt. When she finally offered her love to me, I loved her, and didn't know. So many times, I have defined love as a chemical reaction, designed to propagate the human species. It's the scientific explanation. But I have another theory now. Love cannot be defined by poets or scientists. Love is defined for me by the look in Sara's eyes."

He turned away, from the man behind the glass, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was so tired.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all this." He said. "Maybe I should reduce things down to their simplest terms. I loved her. I love her. And she offered me love. She offered me herself. Every free, challenging, brilliant, beautiful part of herself. And I was afraid. Afraid of the change she'd bring, of what she would see in me that no-one would else had ever seen. Afraid what her eyes, her clear, loving gaze would see. Afraid of no longer being the scientist, but just a man, defenceless and exposed.

Simply. I love her. She loved me. I rejected her, and she warned me, one day it would be too late."

He looked down, then back up at the other man, his face full of pain and fear and loss.

"Tell me." he whispered. "How do you tell a woman you love her? I don't know. And she won't see it in me any more. I lost her. I may have killed her. How do I get her back.?"

"Grissom?"

Grissom turned around. Nick was standing in the doorway of the men's bathroom, looking puzzled.

"Yes?" Grissom replied, calmly. Nick looked around.

"I heard voices." Nick said.

"That was me." Grissom replied, unfazed, washing his hands.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Myself." Grissom replied, gesturing towards the mirror. The other man gestured back. "I find it often helps me to work through a problem to talk to myself."

"Yeah, well, you're probably the only person who can understand what you're talking about anyway." Nick said as he walked in, and Grissom walked out.

"Did you solve it?" Nick asked. Grissom paused in the doorway.

"Solve it?"

"Your problem." Nick prompted.

"No." Grissom said. "No, I think it may be too late."

THE END.