A/N: Once again, thank you for the wonderful feedback on this story, and happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends and readers. I hope the conclusion makes you feel as good as I felt writing it. Also, thank you to my wonderful friend, Kim for her encouragement, and to Chicklit for Billsville.

Eph's Pond

PART THREE

"…Insects are predictable, but other factors can make estimating time of death complicated. For example, if a body is wrapped in a blanket or a sheet, it can decrease the corpse's exposure to insects and impact their maturation."

"So, if you can't rely on insect maturation how would you estimate time of death?" a young woman in the front row asked.

"Good question." Grissom cast a glance around the class. "Any takers?"

"An experiment," Sara said from her back row seat, and then held her breath as Grissom's head snapped up and his eyes found her. Shock, bewilderment, and then a wave of emotion, raw and powerful, swept into his eyes, making her throat constrict. He stood frozen at the front of the class, gaze locked on hers, until a shuffle broke the silence as their curious audience slowly turned to stare at her. Feeling the heat of a flush on her cheeks, Sara looked away, flicking her gaze around the room. She smiled nervously. "You have to, uh, recreate the conditions with another corpse, preferably a pig, because pigs are most like humans." She cleared her throat and continued, "Anyway, that's what you have to do to determine how long it would have taken the bugs to reach the body."

"This is Sara Sidle," Grissom announced, having regained his composure, and with that, most of the class's attention, much to Sara's relief. "She's a seasoned criminalist with first hand knowledge of this very condition. She could give you chapter and verse on watching a pig decompose."

Sara grimaced. "I'll leave the poetry of it to the entomologist."

Quiet laugher broke through the classroom and Grissom smiled, glancing at his watch. "We'll pick this up Monday morning," he said, dismissing them early. "Have a good weekend everybody."

As the students packed up their books and began to leave, Sara slowly made her way to the front of the room, reaching Grissom just as a tall brunette sauntered over to him. "Should I assume you'll be calling me Amy from now on?" A corner of Grissom's mouth twitched and a deep shade of red crept up his features. The young woman pursed her lips teasingly. "Have a good weekend, Doctor Grissom."

There was something oddly familiar about the girl, Sara thought, as she watched her leave. When the door closed behind her, and they were finally alone, she turned to Grissom. "What was that about?"

His eyes fell sheepishly and he shook his head. "Nothing." But then, his gaze lifted and he shrugged. "I may have called her Sara a couple of times."

"Oh." Sara sucked in her lips to abort an involuntary smile.

Grissom's face grew curious. "How long have you been sitting back there?"

"Not long. I came in during your slide show."

"I didn't see you."

"I know."

They both fell silent and time stretched as they faced each other quietly, gazes locked. Sara's breathing became increasingly shallow as she waited for an indication that coming here hadn't been a mistake. And then, without warning, Grissom closed what little distance there was between them and pulled her into his arms, pressing her face firmly to the space between his neck and shoulder. Sara closed her eyes and inhaled the wonderful male scent of him, her heart humming with happiness as he rocked her gently. His letter was neatly folded in her pocket, but even if he hadn't already broken down the barriers to his heart and invited her in, the vice-like grip in which he held her would have left her under no illusion about the strength of his feelings for her.

She snuggled deeper into his warmth and pressed her lips against his skin, feeling his throat working against his emotions. Then she heard a suspicious sniffle close to her ear.

"Gris?"

He turned his face into her hair. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"When I didn't hear from you, I thought—" His voice broke and she felt his chest constrict against her breast.

"Gil…" She started to pull back, but he strengthened his hold on her, keeping her captive in his arms.

"I love you," he whispered.

Sara swallowed painfully. "I know. I love you, too."

He held her a moment longer before drawing back to look at her. His eyes were wet, but they were also lit with happiness. Fondly, he smiled at her. "There's so much I need to tell you, show you."

Sara reached up a hand and with a delicate brush of a finger, flicked a drop of moisture from a corner of his lashes. "Show me your pond, Gris."

---

"Are you warm enough?" Grissom asked, taking in her thin jacket.

Sara smiled up at him and nodded. It was a perfect country winter's day, but even if I hadn't been, the joy of him holding her hand as they walked towards Eph's Pond would have made it so.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he said suddenly. "I know it doesn't excuse my behaviour, but I was under a lot of stress. I didn't realize at the time that I was—"

"Burning out?" Grissom looked at her and Sara smiled. "Catherine told me a couple of weeks ago."

He frowned. "I didn't tell her."

"I know. Ecklie did."

"So everybody knows I was losing it."

"No. I don't think she told anyone else. She thought I already knew. I guess our little secret wasn't much of a secret after all."

"Catherine and Brass may suspect. But they wouldn't know for sure." Grissom inhaled deeply. "I should have told you how I was feeling."

"Yes." They walked on, and then Sara looked up at his face. "How are you feeling now?"

He shot her a quick smile. "Much better."

They reached the pond and Grissom stopped. He let go of her hand to drape his arm around her shoulders. Sara stared at the beautiful landscape, the sun reflecting off its icy surface, the trees, their branches weighed down by snow, but mostly, she felt the tranquility. She smiled. "It's exactly how you described it. Beautiful, restful…"

"It's perfect now," he said softly, looking at her, and Sara's heart fluttered. "How do you feel about snow? I mean, living in a place that's covered in it a few months out of every year?"

Sara's breath caught and she disengaged from him, walking away slowly along the shore. She smiled to herself as she pretended interest in an artistically attractive but very dead branch poking through the snow. Dropping to one knee, she kept her back to Grissom as she fashioned a snowball in her gloved hands, and then in a smooth motion, rose to her feet, the snowball hidden behind her as she walked back toward him. Grissom was watching her, waiting, his expression unreadable.

When she was within a few feet of him, she said, "Snow's okay. It can even be fun." And with that, she launched her missile, the snow ball exploding into a cloud of white flakes as it hit the side of his neck.

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he stood rigidly, stunned. But then slowly, a smile broke out on his face and he took a menacing step toward her, bending and scooping snow in his hands as he did so. Sara turned and ran, laughing, looking back as he threw his snowball and missed her by a mile, but then she tripped on the branch she'd pretended interest in earlier, and fell face first in the snow.

Grissom dropped over her, his legs and arms on either side of her body, keeping her captive. Sara rolled over onto her back and looked up into his beautiful, smiling eyes. "Why do you ask?"

He removed a glove and gently brushed the snow from her face and her hair, and as though distracted by the smile on her lips, he quickly kissed her before answering. "I've been offered a permanent teaching position here."

"Are you going to accept?"

"That's entirely up to you."

Sara's heart swelled. It had taken them a very long time to get here, but she knew she was finally home. Throwing her arms up around his neck, she tugged him down on top of her. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be."

His gaze darkened passionately and he dipped his head again, capturing her lips with his own. But this time there was nothing quick about his kiss.

And in a small house near Eph's Pond in a town they soon came to call Billsville, as all the locals did, Grissom and Sara lived happily ever after.

THE END