A/N: The last chapter--thanks for reading, thanks especially for all the suggestions, some we worked into this story (thanks!!) And thank you for your comments! We read all of them, laugh at some, and appreciate you taking time to read and comment!
Wherever We Are Chapter 10
When she woke, the sun filtered around the dark blinds. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. She smiled, "I dreamed of this, of waking and finding you here."
He slipped an arm around her and cradled her to his chest. She kissed his chest, the hollow of his throat, his chin. Making love to him was right, and strong, and complete.
He raised himself on an elbow, leaned over and kissed her eyes, her lips, moving to her breasts, slowly, teasing, while his hand moved lightly along her abdomen, her belly, her hip. She lay still, letting waves of sensation build within her as she floated in another dream.
They made love slowly the second time, tasting each other, learning the sounds and movements that only a lover knows and remembers. Laughter came as they talked through the long afternoon; the sounds from outside drifted over the bed as if from some distant place.
Sara stretched, remembering the weight of his body on hers, the surprise in his eyes each time they became as one, the deep laughter in his voice; she loved him with a passion that astonished her with its intensity.
He, in turn, kissed her; holding her face with both hands and kissing her lips, her nose, gentle brushes against her skin. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth as she did his. He kissed her breast circling her nipple and causing a sweet wave of pleasure and a gasp of delight to come from Sara. She knew he smiled as he heard her and his hand moved between her legs.
Much later, after they both slept, they drank warm juice and shared an omelet. They sat at the small table, eating slowly, talking of their lives in another world and how they had found each other. He soothed her doubts, erased any element of embarrassment, assured her work would not interfere with their new relationship.
They would work together, always professional, almost always cautious and careful, attempting to keep their personal lives separate from the lab. Together they learned the language of lovers, not always words, but with their eyes, with a touch, a gesture that had meaning only to them. When Nick was almost lost, both realized the fragile existence of life and rarely spent another night alone. It took Grissom much longer to convince Sara to combine their possessions into one home—until he promised her a dog.
Evan Atwater, whose disappearance had brought them together, remained a mystery, an unsolved cold case. Many months later, when Grissom and Sara needed a well connected political friend, Roy Atwater, no longer sheriff but still with influence, remembered their work and insisted both keep their jobs without censure or demotion.
Nearly a year later, before Grissom left the lab for the last time, he received a short email from Ed, the deputy. The man who had never written a second check to the church had been found—Alzheimer's disease had taken his mind. The man's wife remembered the day she found the shirt and the bank bag stuffed in a car trunk. For thirty years she had carried a terrible secret with her. Her husband had written a check to the church for more than they had in their account; he wanted to retrieve his check before it was deposited, the boy refused to give him the bag, and in the scuffle little Evan Atwater had hit his head on a concrete curb. The child never woke up and she had never asked her husband what he had done with the body or why he kept the shirt or bank bag. Ed's last sentence was, "Nelda Owen knew your lady friend would figure it out."
It would be these early days, a simple pillow thrown in a roadside motel, of a road trip, of a frightening attack by a crazed patient that brought Grissom to her door, of days and nights spent in bed, eating and reading and loving each other without intrusion from others, that eventually made each realize how strong their love had become.
An intimate gesture by Grissom led to an event of far-reaching consequences—Sara knew she had to leave Las Vegas, not Grissom, never the one person she loved more than life, but the darkness, the sadness, the desperation at the end of life. The death of co-worker and protégé, Warrick Brown, would send Grissom on a similar path, before he decided he, too, must leave to find sunshine, to find peace, to find Sara. In the end, wherever they were, whatever they did, no questions, no doubts, together is where they belonged.