Grissom awoke with a start. It took him a minute to realize where he was, then he recognized the familiar walls of the jail infirmary.

Martinez was standing over him.

"Rise and shine, Grissom," Martinez said. "You're going home."

"What? What happened?" Grissom was suddenly awake.

"You made bail."

Grissom began to shake his head.

"If Sam Braun is bailing me out, I'm not going," he said.

Martinez smiled.

"Hey, if Sam Braun were bailing ME out, I wouldn't go, either. But Braun didn't post your bail. Three beautiful angels did."

"Who?" Grissom asked, looking confused.

"Miss Willows, Miss Sidle, and somebody called Lady Heather? Gees, Gil, you didn't tell me science nerds had groupies."

Gil relaxed and closed his eyes.

"They brought you some clothes. I'll take you to them, when you're ready."

Martinez set a bag down on the bed and then stepped away to give Grissom some privacy.

Gil's hands were shaking as he fought back pain to sit up. For the first time in days, he wasn't shackled or handcuffed, and soon he wouldn't be behind bars. The thought of going home was exhilarating. A few minutes later, he was changed, washed up, and ready to go.

Martinez brought a wheel chair, but Gil refused the offer, knowing how much it would frighten Sara. Instead, he settled on a cane, and together the men made their way down to the waiting room.

The minute he stepped into the room, Sara was in his arms, crying and holding onto him, as Catherine and Heather watched. He grimaced from the pain, but didn't push her away.

"It's okay. I'm okay," he said, comforting her, as she trembled in his arms.

He slowly pulled himself out of her embrace and gave Heather a big hug.

"Thank you," he said.

She winked back at him.

Then Gil turned to Catherine, who was standing defensively, her arms crossed in front of her, and scowling at him. For a second, she looked more like she was going to hit him than anything else, but her resolve quickly melted, and she approached him and gently rested her hand on his cheek. She was fighting back her tears.

"Let's go home," she said.

Taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm. When they left, he was still holding her hand.

"Shades of Charlie Manson," one guard said, as the group stepped into the daylight.

"Shut up!" said Martinez.

The door of Gil's apartment had been fixed, thanks to Jim Brass, and the rest of the crew was there, waiting for him. Word of Grissom's release sped quickly, and within five minutes of returning home, the phone began to ring and the press began to gather outside his door.

Catherine closed the blinds and drew the shades. Brass took the phone off the hook, while Nick and Warrick fended off people at the door, occasionally allowing one of their own to pass. The result was something between a welcome home party, a summit and a siege. Gil, overwhelmed by the outpouring of support from his friends and coworkers, eased himself into an overstuffed chair and looked around at his people.

"I don't know what to say," be began.

"Well, thank you would be a good place," Jim told him.

Gil smiled, a deep and genuine smile that seemed to illuminate the entire space around him.

"Thank you."

As Sara and Warrick passed around food and drinks, Jim took the lead.

"We've been working on your case, Gil. Catherine and I have been to the scene and gone over the court documents and search warrants."

Greg Sanders anxiously jumped/ in.

"I found out what they've got for DNA," he said, smiling.

"How did you do that?" Grissom asked, cocking his head to one side.

"Oh, well, there's this cute new tech on dayshift...." Greg began to blush.

"Ah...." said Gil.

"I've been running background checks on Miller, trying to find out who could have hired him," Warrick said.

Sara, who had been left out of the loop regarding the attack on Gil, took notice.

"Miller, who?" she asked. "I thought I did background checks."

Catherine patiently explained.

"Miller is... was an inmate at the jail. He tried to kill Gil. That's why I was so anxious to get him out."

"That, and we missed your pretty face," Nick joked.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Sara squealed.

"I'm alright," Gil assured her. "And I don't even know if it was related to the case."

"I am," said Jacqui. "This whole thing stinks. There are so many inconsistencies in the evidence, I don't even know where to begin."

Catherine interrupted her, asking to speak to Sara alone in Gil's bedroom for a few minutes. Heather followed them in. When they'd left, Brass continued.

"For starters, Carol never really moved into the house. She had so few possessions there, that Catherine asked me to check on her history in L.A."

"What did you find out?" Gil asked.

"She apparently left in a hurry. A big hurry. In fact, she was reported missing, at first, until she contacted the LAPD and told them she was alright. According to my contact down there, she just got in her car one day and drove away, without a suitcase and without a word to anyone."

"Sounds like an abusive boyfriend," Nick said.

"And she just drives up to Las Vegas, walks into another job and moves into an apartment, just like that?" Gil asked, skeptical.

"Ah, that's the good part," Brass continued. "Apparently she had contacts up here: Rory Atwater and Conrad Eckley. Rory got her a job, and Conrad got her the apartment. He even paid the first and last months' rent and the security deposit."

As the team continued to fill Gil in on what they had learned, Sara, Catherine and Heather were having their own huddle.

"Sara, you need to sit down," Catherine said, indicating the bed and pulling up a chair of her own. Only Heather remained standing.

"What?" Sara asked, suddenly nervous.

"You're going to hear some things in there," Catherine told her, "things about Gil that you probably didn't know and probably don't want to know. But you have to hear them, if you're going to be a part of this."

"So," Heather interjected, "do you really want to be a part of this?"

Sara looked from one woman to the next.

"I know Grissom didn't kill anyone," she objected.

"You're right. He didn't," said Catherine. "But he did have sex with Carol. Afterwards, they showered together. She was an old flame of his, and if she hadn't ended up dead, he probably would have seen her, again." Catherine hesitated a second, before adding, "I'm sorry, Sara. I thought you should know."

Sara didn't know where to look. She slunk into the bed, tears watering in her eyes. Years of unrequited love were boiling just under her skin. Then she shook her head.

"Of course. I'm such a dope. I just didn't want to think...."

"It's alright," Catherine said, a heavy sadness in her own voice. "I didn't want to think about it, either."

"Anything else I should know?" Sara asked.

"Yes," said Heather, looking to Catherine.

"When the police found Carol, she had been killed with an extension cord taken from the room. Gil's fingerprints are all over that cord," Catherine said.

Sara felt herself getting nauseous.

"That's not right. If he didn't kill her, how would...?" She looked up at Heather.

"Do you know what I do for a living?" Heather asked, kneeling in front of Sara and taking her hand. "I teach people how to deal with their inner selves, how to accept and safely use their darkest fantasies. I give them a chance to explore things about their sexual nature that they wouldn't dare explore on their own."

Sara jerked her hand away.

"One of the techniques for doing that is a kind of game," Heather continued. "Sometimes, in that game, we use extension cords."

"Bondage," Sara said, spitting out the word.

"Yes, but not to hurt anyone," Heather explained. "Only to heighten the experience."

"Gil knew how to play that game," Catherine explained. "Heather taught him. And from what I can gather about Carol's background, she was very experienced in that sort of thing."

"She was one of my students, before she went to L.A.," Heather confirmed.

"No!" Sara said, as the image flooded into her mind. "He wouldn't! He couldn't!"

Catherine left her chair and sat next to Sara, putting her arm around the younger woman.

"Sara, Gil is a man," Catherine tried to explain. "He didn't stop being a man when he took over the nightshift. He kept his secret life secret. But, now, with the charges against him and all the press, everyone is going to be speculating about it. I wanted you to be prepared for what's to come."

"When I'm not running the dominion, I'm a licensed sex therapist," Heather said. "I knew what Gil was going through the first time I met him. I knew he needed what I could do for him. And he was making progress. Until this happened."

"And you knew about this?" Sara, stunned, asked Catherine.

Catherine glanced at Heather.

"It wasn't something we ever talked about," Catherine said. "But I knew he'd been up there a few times, and I suspected something was going on. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he just shut down. You know how he's been, the last few years."

Sara looked like she was about to explode.

"I need to be alone!" she said, emphatically. "I need to think."

"Of course," the two women agreed, as they silently joined the others. Sara, suddenly covering her mouth, ran for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Gil jumped slightly at the sound, then looked up at Catherine and Heather as they approached.

"You told her," he said. It was a statement rather than a question.

They both nodded. He sighed and closed his eyes for a second, understanding what Sara was going through. "Will she be alright?" he asked.

The two women looked at each other for the answer. Neither spoke.

"And then they got the DNA results," Greg was saying, oblivious to the drama going on a few feet away. Gil turned his attention back to the group. "Two distinct donors. One premortem and one postmortem."

"Someone had sex with her after she was dead?" Grissom asked, the shock evident in his face and voice.

Greg nodded.

"Interestingly," Brass said, "the police affidavit only referred to one donor, you. No mention of the other one."

"That's convenient," Nick said, getting himself another beer from the frig.

"Why would the police lie about that?" Grissom asked.

"What makes you think the police lied?" Brass challenged, defending his own. "Maybe the CSI team lied."

"Maybe Eckley lied," Jacqui added. She really didn't like the guy.

Sara found her way out of the bathroom and back into the group.

"I'm not feeling very well," she said. "I think I'm going to go home and rest."

"I'll take you," offered Warrick. "You're gonna need help getting through the vultures out there."

Gil watched them walk out the door, and Sara never looked back at him.

"You probably need your rest, too," Catherine said to Gil. "We can finish this later, now that you're home." She gave him a kiss on the forehead and started gathering up the group. When they'd all said good-by, only Heather remained.

"If I were you, I wouldn't want to face the press, either," Gil commented, struggling to get up.

Heather offered him a hand.

"They didn't see me come in," she said.

"But they'll see you go out," he finished.

"They know who I am. In some strange way, this has actually been good for my business." She was trying to make light of the situation.

"Did I thank you, yet?" he asked.

She smiled back at him.

"You don't have to thank me. Just knowing you has been thanks, enough." She glanced out the window at the press. "How do you want me to handle this?" she asked. "Should I tell them I'm the cleaning lady?"

"It doesn't matter what you say to them, they'll spin it the way they want," Gil answered, looking over her shoulder.

She smiled, kissed him and slipped out the door.

"Lady Heather! Lady Heather!" The press went frantic, snapping photos of the dark beauty and throwing questions at her. "Did he do it? What's he like? What's your relationship with the Bug Man? Is it true he was sleeping with four women at the same time? Is he one of your clients?"

Grissom felt the rage coming back. He couldn't understand how people could be so cavalier about destroying a man's life. A part of him wanted to confront them, but he held back. He knew Heather would do a better job at defending him than he could.

Posing at the top of the stairs, Heather faced the hungry press.

"I have just one thing to say about Gil Grissom," she said. "He's the kindest, most decent man I know. He would never hurt another human being. These allegations have been completely trumped up by someone who is obviously obsessed with destroying Gil and has a thorough knowledge of forensic science. You want a story? That's your story. Go find out who is trying to ruin this man!"

Gil smiled to himself. In his wildest imagination, he couldn't picture Eckley being smart enough to set him up, but Heather had managed to toss the ball in that direction, and the press would follow the ball.

Making sure the town house was secure, Gil entered the darkened bedroom, put Enya on the CD player, took some sleeping pills, removed his glasses, and fell asleep in his own bed.

-- TBC --