Dedicated to all those who believe in happy endings.

A/N: A thousand thank-yous to a truly wonderful friend, Sara (sara-cupcaked), for the beta.

Disclaimer: By writing this, I do not imply ownership of CSI.

You are the light that's leading me

To the place where I find peace again

Everything, by Lifehouse

--

She grabs her canteen of water and sits down again, taking a long drink of the cool liquid, knowing staying hydrated is important. It's dry season, meaning little to no rain and high humidity.

She, along with the crew of the Sea Shepherd, landed on the Osa Peninsula, the southwest coast of Costa Rica, two weeks ago—or at least she thought it'd been two weeks, since time here seemed to flow and ebb fluidly one day into the next with languid ease. They plan to remain here for a few more weeks before moving on again. Here, exactly, is the Corcovado National Park, the crown jewel of Costa Rica's national park and biological reserve system and "the most biologically intense place on Earth," according to National Geographic.

Sitting in the makeshift tent, she stares out, taking in the vast sea of green before her eyes. It is different, a good different. A different she has needed, for a long time. But still, she can't help but think of the sandy-colored desert and the flashing neon lights of the Strip once more. And the little ache in her heart, the one that is always there since she said goodbye to Gil, becomes more pronounced and she knows what she misses most is blue.

With a sigh, she shakes her head slightly. Before her is her own little piece of paradise, and she thinks to herself briefly if there isn't already a rule against having unhappy thoughts in a place like this then there should be.

Every day is a new day, with exciting discoveries and adventures waiting to be found, and is one that fills and nourishes her soul as she finds pleasure and beauty in her surroundings. Any time she wants to find peace, a quiet solitude within herself, she closes her eyes and listens. She hears the rustling of leaves, the chirping of insects, the mating calls of birds and primates, the movement of life. It is beautiful and magical, Nature's very own symphony.

A voice calls her name and draws her from contemplation. She turns her head and finds Nathan standing before her. He's a predoctoral student, tall and lanky with disheveled hair and who has a crush on her. In a way, he reminds her of Greg, so she smiles. He asks her if she will join him and a few others on a hike, she declines, opting to stay behind at camp.

He nods, masking his disappointment quickly, and she rises to stretch her legs.

She considers washing a few of her things as she steps out from the tent and sees another's laundry hanging on the clothesline to dry, but then she spots movement in the tree above the hanging shirt. A White-faced Capuchin monkey.

Forgetting about washing clothes, she grabs her camera and makes her way to the tree. She locates the mammal in her viewfinder and snaps a few pictures.

Sensing a noise behind her, she stills and inexplicably her heart speeds up. She turns, camera still in hand.

Gil.

She stands in shock at seeing him there, standing before her here in Costa Rica, which most certainly isn't Vegas, which most definitely cannot be a friendly I-was-just-in-the-neighborhood-and-thought-I-would-drop-by type visit. A thousand thoughts and images rush through her mind, but the one that stands out the most is of a different time, a different place. A lifetime ago, she feels like. He had been the one with the camera taking pictures, he had been the one to turn around.

--

It had taken an eleven-hour commercial flight from Vegas to San Jose, with a short layover in Los Angeles, before he landed in Costa Rica, and then a small commuter flight before he finally arrived at his destination, the Osa Peninsula. Sleep, for the most part, had evaded him on the plane rides. He was too wired, too anxious, too much of everything.

Over the past few weeks, he had made a few phone calls and then later a series of emails, all politely requesting privacy about his inquiry, about where the Sea Shepherd would be heading next and would they have room for a forensic entomologist and retired criminologist to join their team.

Receiving Sara's video, releasing him of all responsibility and commitment to her, had been a wakeup call for him, a much-needed one at that. He slowly began to move toward the decision to walk away from the lab, and toward her. And all too easily his life in Vegas came to a close, like shutting the hard worn cover of one's favorite novel. Brass agreed to help with the sell of his house, Catherine offered to take Bruno, and he placed the rest of his things in storage.

There had been too many bad things, too much darkness, in his life lately.

But all that is going to change.

He is in the Corcovado National Park and heading toward the Sea Shepherd's base camp, thanks to the coordinates the director of the expedition had sent him earlier and to the GPS system on his cell phone.

Walking through the thick, lush vegetation, he hardly pays attention to the wondrous, diverse life that is all around. He feels his shirt begin to stick to his skin due to the humidity, but he continues his journey, walking toward the light.

At the clearing, he stops suddenly. He sees her and his heart begins to race. Her back is to him and she's taking pictures of a monkey—a Capuchin, he thinks—and then she turns.

He is struck motionless. Thoughts and images speed through his mind, but the thought that strikes him the most is of a different time, a different place. A lifetime ago, he feels like. He had been the one with the camera taking pictures, he had been the one to turn around.

And now it is her. A simple, parallel act… that is somehow fitting of this perfect moment in time.

Unlike the crime scene photos he'd been taking until recently, she is snapping pictures of beauty and life. Not of ugliness and death.

Vegas seems so far away already, and he isn't surprised to realize he feels no sadness. Instead, he feels like finally he can think; he can breathe again. But still, he can't help but think of the sandy-colored desert and the flashing neon lights of the Strip one last time. And the little hole in his heart, the one he hadn't been aware of but one that formed when Sara left, begins to heal when he sees her smile and realizes what he missed most was brown.

By leaving Vegas, he loses nothing; instead, he gains something of priceless value.

That was his old life.

And this, here, is his new life.

--

Everyone, consciously or not, goes through life in search of something. In search of forever, of a moment of beauty and perfection when time suspends and expands, the world stops moving and stands still, and everything unimportant and trivial fades.

This is his moment, their moment.

Leaving the darkness behind, he steps forward and embraces the light, pulling her to him.

Their lips meet—he isn't sure whose lips touched whose first but he quickly finds it doesn't matter. They do not speak; words for them had always been unnecessary, for in silence they communicate more than they ever could with words.

He feels warmth on his cheeks and realizes she is crying. He pulls back, alarmed until he sees she is smiling and it is happy tears. It is then he realizes he is crying too. With the soft pad of his thumb, he reaches and gently brushes away the tears.

Leaning down, he recaptures her lips in a gentle promise of forever.

And, finally, he finds peace again.

FIN