A/N: Last chapter, I know it's really short, but there wasn't a whole lot to write. Hopefully it isn't too terribly anticlimactic...and thank you so, so much for the reviews. It really means a lot to me.

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"Warrick."

He was standing in the layout room with his palms on the table, studying something, when Sara walked in. Ran in, actually.

"Hey, Sara." His eyebrows were slightly raised in surprise. "What's up?"

"Where's Grissom? Who's on the case with him? Where is he?"

Her voice was shaking a little, and she couldn't help it.

Don't panic. Don't think irrationally.

Warrick's green eyes were boring into her, inquisitive and concerned.

"He's with Nick. Down by the—"

"Take me." Hands trembling, she pulled out her keys and tossed them at him, probably with more force than was necessary.

"Just take me there. I'll explain on the way." The room was too hot, the air was too thick, how could anybody breathe? The clock had to be wrong, the seconds were going too fast.

"Okay, okay," Warrick said, shrugging on his coat. Sara let out her breath without realizing she'd been holding it at all.

Don't panic. Just don't think at all.

"Gunshots?" He snuck a quick glance at her before turning again to face the road, where they were going twenty miles over the speed limit.

"Yeah. Really close. They weren't loud enough to be in the same room, and I don't think Grissom got…got…hurt. But they were close."

Warrick lifted one large hand off the steering wheel and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Damn."

And then they were silent for a while. It was the longest road Sara had ever seen, and suddenly the seconds were passing agonizingly slowly. Finally, Warrick pulled into the driveway of a suburban home. Conventional brick house, perfectly trimmed shrubs. It wasn't a good place to have her life changed forever. It wasn't a good place to lose everything. Wasn't, wasn't.

Sara's hands were sweating as she jumped out of the car with Warrick scrambling after her. She willed her legs to go quicker, but it was like a dream where she just couldn't run fast enough.

"Sara! Sara!" Voices called behind her, but she didn't have time. Didn't have time to turn around and see Warrick's worried eyes, or hear Nick's southern drawl.

"Ma'am."

Sara looked up to see a police officer. He had a small nose and a receding hairline. And suddenly, she was aware of what seemed like a thousand police cars. Were there ambulances? Sirens blared and red lights flashed, and she was blinded by the memory of gunshots.

"The CSI's that were on this scene, are they okay? I heard gunshots."

The police officer nodded calmly. "Yes, there was an unexpected altercation."

Altercation. Sara gritted her teeth.

"Damn it! Were people shot or weren't they?" Sara was vaguely aware that she was yelling, was agitated and scared and angry. Why the hell would anybody hire this guy?

"Ma'am…" But before she could punch him, there was a hand on her shoulder. And when she spun around, she realized that Nick was okay. He was in the background talking to a police officer as Warrick stood beside him. And Grissom was okay, because he was standing and breathing and had his hand on her shoulder.

"Sara?"

He was not bleeding or dead, and it suddenly became a little easier to breathe.

"You hung up your phone," Sara said shakily. The words sounded absurd the moment they left her lips. A slight smile twitched at the corner of Grissom's mouth. There was relief in his eyes.

"I had to draw my gun. Some guy got into the house and started shooting, the police were on him in an instant," he said, moving his hand to her back and leading her away from the policeman.

Sara stopped and put her hands on his chest just to make sure he was still there. The warmth seemed to radiate from his vest, making her hands tremble.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he murmured, his voice softening. "I was calling you back when I saw you about to beat up that police officer. Things were just really crazy for a few minutes there. I—"

But she didn't really care to know the specifics of the situation, so she just kissed him, and let him kiss her back with a desperate kind of love.

Finally he pulled back and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I scared you," he said, eyes still closed.

Sara frowned at him.

"You didn't scare me," she retorted.

He opened his eyes and raised one eyebrow.

"Sara, you're crying."

And she didn't even really believe it until she put a hand to her face and felt the wetness of tears. Felt something.

"We should go to France," she said, and cried harder.

"Okay," he said. His eyes were willing and bright.

"We should go skydiving." Sara couldn't tell whether her tears were from joy or sadness.

"Okay."

"We should…we should…"

"We should make love on my kitchen table," Grissom said decidedly. "We should go home and make love, then we should go out to eat, and then we should spend the rest of our lives together."

And that sounded good, so she let him put his arms around her and hold her tight, a shelter from the bright lights and sirens.

She could feel his breath on her ear. "We're going to be okay," he murmured.

And it was true, it was true.