"You have to go to Seattle."

     His pen froze in its place on the half-signed paper. Gil took off his glasses and looked at the sheriff with fear-stricken eyes which the sheriff had never seen in him before.

     "What?" Gil spit out.

     "I want you on this case. You know our missing person case is quickly becoming a high-profile. I can't trust anyone else."

     "But why not Warrick or Nick?"

     "This is one of the mayor's closest friends, Grissom." Politics. Again.

     "What does that have to do with anything? Warrick is much more political than I am. I'm sure he could handle it better than I could. Nick is a charmer, you know that." Gil pleaded, and the sheriff almost seemed moved. To the sheriff Grissom seemed to be on the verge of breaking down.

     "Grissom, I need you on this." He said, hesitantly.

     "But..."

     "Please Grissom. Don't argue with me on this one." The sheriff briskly walked away, leaving a troubled Gil in his wake. The door was now closed and Gil was massaging his temples. Barely two minutes had passed before the phone rang.

     "Grissom."

     "It's me. Just called Seattle PD. You'll be working with a detective named McMullen. I suggest you give them a call. Let them know when you're coming."

     "Thank you sheriff." Gil sighed as he dropped the phone back to its place. He looked up at the ceiling and he cursed. "God damn it!" He grabbed the nearest book and threw it at the door, and he didn't even notice the fact that some of the pages were now ripped. Soon, a concerned Sara Sidle entered.

"Everything okay?" Sara asked as she squeezed through the door, closing it after her. She looked at the trashed book, and picked it up hesitantly. He wanted to tell her no, that his life was all going to the dumpsters, but he couldn't. He didn't need her curiosity, not now.

"Yeah. Just a little troubled, that's all."

"You threw a book at the wall. Come on, Grissom. Talk to me." She plopped down on the seat in front of him.

"I'm going to be in Seattle." He confessed. He thought he might as well tell her what was going on, but perhaps not to the full extent. Seattle. He still couldn't believe it.

"Seattle? For Georgia Simmons?" Sara asked, her expression one of perplexity.

"The sheriff won't have anyone else go." He replied, as he let out a sigh of defeat.

"Seattle? So what...." Sara uttered her words, but her face turned paler than it normally was, and for a moment Gil was afraid she might faint. "It's Catherine, isn't it."

"I don't like the possibility of meeting ghosts, that's all." He told her, straightening up in his chair.

"Are you working with her?" Sara asked, her tone rigid.

"No. Detective named McMullen." As soon as he told her the name, she seemed relieved, and Gil didn't like it.

"You expect to be able to avoid her in her own lab, Gil?" She asked, looking at him as if he had just uttered something entirely ridiculous. He sighed. He needed to be ridiculous right now, to save that glimpse of hope.

"Don't worry. I'll be back as soon as it's done."

"I know it." Sara told him, and they made eye contact. "Call me."

Gil smiled, and she left the room. The relationship was breaking in, but rather slowly, since it had been jeopardized by his spending so much time at the lab, but Sara was as much of a workaholic as he was, and they spent time nonetheless. He was glad he hadn't given her a set of keys to his house.

Greg frowned in confusion as he received the set of keys thrown at him.

"Take care of things while I'm gone." Grissom commanded as he made final preparations for departure in his office, and Greg gulped.

"Me? You trust me with your house and office keys?" Greg asked, still not able to believe what was happening. "Why not..."

"Because I know you'll do the job; no more, no less. It's all listed on my desk and...keep this between us?" With that and a half-hearted thumbs-up, Gil Grissom stepped out of the lab, leaving Greg to gape at a swinging door.

"Coffee or tea?"

Gil looked up at the smiling flight attendant, struggling to hold a tray full of cups steady.

"Coffee thanks." He carefully received the hot cup of coffee and placed it on his tray. He was grateful that the lab could afford to put him in the Prestige class and that the seat next to him was empty. He was too engaged in his own thoughts to enjoy the scenery of Western America, pass by his window.

He didn't know why he was making such a big deal out of it all. He wasn't going to work with her; she went to Seattle because she was offered the job of Assistant Director of the lab, possibly director now. However, the thought of coming across her in the foreign hallways of the Seattle Police Department, and seeing the unbelieving look on her face that he could picture clearly, scared him to no end. Then the consequences of not calling her before he came...just may surpass the encounter itself. He didn't have anything prepared to tell her when she would question him. It wasn't something he ever wanted to experience.