A/N – Thank you everyone for all the wonderful support and kindness you've given me these past months. I hope you enjoy the Epilogue.

A/N 2 – I would like to thank cancsifan for the name of Review and Login's daughter. It's perfect.

Disclaimer – Epilogues don't need disclaimers. They just need a little TLC.


Nick stared at the darkened office, only a dim light under a shelf illuminating the space. He wasn't the only one found drawn to the doorway of the former CSI supervisor's office. For several minutes, the Texan just stared, taking in the details.

Shelves stood, strewn with books and journals. It was hard to make out the contents of the various cages and jars, but they lay un-obscured on tables here and there. The 'In' box seemed eerily empty, as Nick thought about the fact that Gil Grissom would never again be handing out assignments. A lump formed in his throat when he thought about the fact Grissom wouldn't be there every day, offering assistance or strange references to difficult cases.

However, the Texan had to smile, shifting his thoughts to the Policeman's Ball the month before.

After getting drenched, the couple had proudly walked over to the table, and informed Greg and April they needed to take care of getting the equipment back to the lab. Arm in arm, as if it were the norm, Sara and Gil Grissom had walked out of the ballroom – soaking wet, dripping, and without a care in the world.

Then they'd gone on their honeymoon. No one had seen them since, although Catherine got a post card from Mexico.

The hand on his shoulder made Nick jump, and spin around, nearly knocking him down.

"You don't get my fetal pig," Grissom sardonically stated, a lazy tan grin on his face. Walking past the CSI, he flipped on the lights, bringing the office to life. Gil dropped a stack of papers into his 'In' box, and turned to the windows facing the lab, watching his wife's approach. When Sara appeared only moments later, she sported a matching grin and deep tan.

"Hey," she murmured and signed to her husband, sedately approaching him. Nick's jaw dropped when Grissom reached over, pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. When he finally hoisted his jaw up, Nick started laughing, shaking his head.

"You're not on your honeymoon, darlin'," he addressed to Sara.

Turning her head toward her friend, but still wrapped around her husband, Sara shyly grinned, "We're also not under lab policy anymore." Reaching onto the stack of papers Gil had dropped on his desk, Sara grabbed the new name plate, which read just "Grissom / Consultant" and placed it out for Nick to see.

Gil looked at Nick and smiled, his eyes sparkling, when he added, "Sometimes it's worth it to break the rules. Remember that."

Laughing again, Nick held out his arms to give Sara a quick hug, and then left the couple to their work.


Greg and April had spent the previous evening with Gil and Sara (who had actually returned the week before and were making room for the newest addition to the family – a golden retriever).

The four (actually six, including Hank and Seven) enjoyed dinner and a movie. No one got particularly upset when Grissom grumbled at the screen, flipped on closed captioning, and started muttering when he couldn't see the actors' lips. Rather, if things were unclear, either April or Sara signed it to him. In the end, it was popcorn and a movie, like any other hang-out time Greg and Sara were used to in the past.

Now Greg had the night off, and had insisted April do the same. He'd already spoken with Dennis, and then Laura. It had humbled him when he and Dennis had spoken. For the longest time, Greg hadn't known what to say about their initial meeting – Greg's anger toward Laura. He hadn't known how to apologize for his behavior and ask for forgiveness from April's parents.

Yet somewhere along the way, Dennis had come to find a strong respect for Greg, and so when they spoke, it was with a blessing from Dennis and a promise from Greg. The only warning the young man had received was, "Don't make my daughter cry."

Everything was ready. The table was reserved. It was perfect. The ring was in his pocket.

Her eyes widened when he showed up in a dark brown suit, a typical Greg hat on his head, and a bouquet of daisies – her favorite. April put on her light jacket, linked her arm through his, and they made their way to the restaurant.

He waited for desert, nervously praying she'd say yes.

"You've gotten quiet," April said, taking a bite of the cheesecake in front of her. "Is everything all right? You've barely spoken the whole night."

"Actually, I have something serious to talk to you about," Greg soberly stated, feeling the hum of nerves run through his veins, like they were a circuitous race course. Standing, he made his way around the small, circular table draped in white cloth, and bent on one knee.

"April, I know it's only been a matter of months, but…" and his cell phone went off.

"Not now," he muttered under his breath.

Distractedly he continued, "You know I love you…" and the phone went off again.

"They know I planned this night off," he muttered again, this time loud enough for April to hear.

Reaching down to the man on bended knee, as his phone blared once more, she felt the tears prick her eyes, and she smiled. Laying a hand on his cheek, she asked, "Greg? Will you marry me?" just as his cell phone went off one more time.

With a rueful grin, he pulled out the ring and said, "Absolutely."

Grinning, she slid the ring on, noticing that unlike a traditional ring, the antique daisy with the small sapphire in the center, fit perfectly.

When his phone blared one more time, she rose, held out her hand at the now frowning CSI, friend, and soon to be lover, and laughed, "You'd better answer that," through the tears of joy steadily streaming down her face.

Gripping the phone in unsteady hands at the surreal proposal in front of him, Greg flipped it open, barked, "Sanders. This better be good." Then reality hit and he yelled, "She said yes!" at Catherine on the other end of the line.


A/N – The labor was long and arduous, and in the end, they'd been born just a week early. Review had begun experiencing labor pains and occasional contractions weeks before, and the couple had wished and prayed long and hard for their kids to be okay. In the end, the result was worth everything… Ficlet and OneShot were welcomed into the arms of awed parents. Ficlet had Login wrapped around her little finger within seconds; and OneShot was the spitting image of his father. Review figured that if OneShot ever developed that boyish, sly grin Login would give her upon occasion, she was going to have her hands full.