A/N: Here's the last chapter of this short fanfic! Thanks to all of you who read and, especially the readers who also review and send us comments! It does mean a lot to us to hear you enjoy our treatment of Grissom and Sara!

With the completion of this story, we are taking a break-have several changes happening including 2 of us heading to separate colleges which may interfer with our joint writing process. We have several stories "in progress" and we will post those as we finish them. We appreciate all of you who have marked us for author alerts-maybe sooner than later you will get that notice of a new story!

We also hope CSI and William Petersen realize fans want to hear about Grissom! And this "Grissom in Paris" storyline becomes "Grissom in Vegas"!

I'll Take You Home Chapter 10

It would be weeks before the need to be alone would occur and it would happen because a few bones found in a storm drain caused Sara's thoughts to return to her past. A child learning about destruction, living in a house where violence and cruelty was normal troubled her well-being and started a small crack in the invisible shield she had erected around a secret.

When she spoke to Grissom, "I need a little time" she said, he understood, but he called her later.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, just needed to think—quietly—for a while—I did laundry," she said. "Cleaned out my refrigerator."

"I miss you being here," he whispered. He had tried to get her to bring laundry to his house or let Betty do her laundry, but she refused. He knew the bomb scare had affected him, especially when he heard of Sara's involvement, but he also recognized the need to have one's private time.

One case after another seemed to cause concern that could not be shaken as shift ended. They talked about the little girl killed by her brother, the man who loved his bird, and the return of a serial killer, in the quietness of Grissom's home. He paced for hours over the surprise finding of a fingerprint. Gradually, they learned to live with each other.

One morning Sara arrived to find Grissom had cleaned out a drawer at bedside for her personal items; a part of his closet became a place for some of her clothes and the same thing happened at her place. Then Ecklie broke the team apart. Grissom was much more affected than he appeared; he worried about Nick and Warrick. It troubled him that Catherine was not given the promotion she wanted and that Sophia was demoted.

"It does mean we get to work together," he said, a grin on his face as he came out of the bathroom. "Of course, it also means we continue to keep us a secret."

Sara shrugged. "That doesn't bother me." She liked the private time they spent together, not having to share him with others. She was stretched across his bed wearing his boxers and her tee-shirt. He patted her bottom as he sat beside her.

"I like having you here," he said. "Even when I go in early—Miss Betty likes having you here." He continued to dress. "You know she buys what you want and I get no junk food."

Sara giggled.

Too quickly another case sent another crack into the shield Sara had erected around her past. After Greg found the dead child in the plastic bin and they discovered his two brothers, Sara sat alone as she read the record of her mother's crime. She glanced up and saw Sofia with Grissom. She needed to be alone, she thought. Sofia would entertain him for an hour with her flirting and sharing of stories about Ecklie and others on day shift. She needed silence and time to think. She read the court record again; she was one line in the multi-page report: "The minor child was taken into state custody."

For two weeks, Grissom knew something bothered Sara. They divided time between her place and his—he left clothes in her closet and learned where she kept a secret stash of candy. Once he mentioned sharing his townhouse, but Sara quickly changed the subject. She started walking the mile or so distance between his place and her apartment. She ate less and he caught her daydreaming, distracted in odd ways, but she refused to acknowledge that anything was causing her worry, quickly smiling, responding with "I'm fine". If there was something, it did not interrupt their love-making; she was passionate, perhaps more-so, she was loving and tender, affectionate and gentle, and funny with him.

Together, in bed, he loved her ability to laugh. Before and after sex, he heard her throaty giggle as a treasured sound. It happened as she nicknamed several parts of his anatomy, when she lost underwear in bedcovers, or when they tangled as they discarded clothing. But outside of the bedroom, her laugh was no longer as spontaneous as it once was. He was not sure when it disappeared—the boy who had starved in the care of an aunt had troubled her but it was not the worse case she had worked.

The day Catherine called about finding two bodies in tar; he left Sara sleeping and later, switched Sara to help with the case, searching for identities of the two skeletal females. He lost track of time until Ecklie arrived in his doorway, in a rage about something—Sara. His heart sank before he realized Ecklie was talking about Catherine and Sara and a blow-up between them in the hallway of the lab.

He immediately left the lab…

Grissom knew Sara's mother had killed her father—he had known since he asked her to come to Vegas. He did not know she had witnessed the final fight. The knife, the blood, the police, the social worker, the final dissolution of her family—she narrated her story to Grissom—he knew the official details—the private misery she had endured seemed to gather strength, destroying her usual strength of will and mind. He reached for her hand. Her fingers twisted in order to clasp his more tightly.

Later, he made tea and placed it in her hands.

"Can you sleep?"

She tried to laugh as she said, "If I'm fired, I'll have plenty of time to sleep."

Grissom stretched on the bed, punched a pillow under his head, and closed his eyes, motioning for her to join him. "You won't be fired, Sara." One eye opened. "But you will have to take the suspension. Are you okay about that?"

She settled beside him. "And we will still work together?"

"Yeah." He yawned. "Are you going to be okay—about everything? You know you could visit your mother. I could fly out to join you in San Francisco for a day."

"Would you do that?"

"I'd leave the biggest crime scene of the century for you," he chuckled and hugged her, sloshing tea on his pants as he did so. They laughed; Sara knew the truth.


The Dick and Jane killings had made headlines across the country and now it seemed the convicted killer had an apprentice who had reached the same skill level as the original.

Grissom looked at the details of the flights he had just changed—another week. He was not yet leaving but staying reluctantly, in a world in which human beings hated and schemed and killed or were killed. He walked into the kitchen where his housekeeper kept things neat and organized and waiting—for Sara; Hank brushed his leg and he reached to pat the dog's head. The dog would stay with Betty until they returned.

Hank and Betty seemed to understand what he was doing; it was time to change direction. Rigor mortis, interrogation, decomposing flesh and smashed bodies, he was finished with it. There were other things to do with his time. He had found it difficult to say the words to Nick and Catherine, Greg and Jim, even David Hodges. It was a bad time to leave, but then it would always be a bad time. Only these new killings and a special request to stay kept him in Vegas now.

He knew he had created confusion with his quiet announcement; most would believe it was disenchantment with his job, the loss of Warrick Brown, a symptom of middle-life doldrums that caused his retirement. But more than his job seemed trivial and unsatisfactory. Lying sleepless, wandering around in restless pursuit of contentment, he had realized that all of it—his job, his house, even his dog—none of it mattered. What, or who, mattered was in Costa Rica, alone, seeking her own adventure, living without him.

The thought of Sara caused him to smile. A breeze stirred warm and gentle across his skin. Sara. He was suddenly suffused with happiness that moved along his veins in a gentle effervescence. Just the thought of her gave him a clear indication that life could be good. He folded his ticket confirmation and reached for a piece of fruit…

Fade to black then brightness, a very lush green, and we know The Ending of this story occurs in a rainforest in Costa Rica. Grissom gets to see his Glasswings...oh, and he finds happiness...The End!

A/N: Thank you! We love hearing your comments!