Normally, Gil Grissom loved watching the sun rise over Las Vegas. Natural beauty always intrigued him. The ocean of stars at night. The textures of the desert sands. The sparkling of sun on Lake Meade. But this morning, as he stood barefoot and shirtless in the window at Lady Heather's Dominion and sipped tea, he never saw the sunrise, even as its radiant colors fell across his face. All he saw was the pain on Catherine's eyes and the shock in Sara's.

"Feeling any better?" Heather asked. She entered the room wearing a white terry robe, her long black hair flowing behind her like a horse's mane. She was extraordinarily beautiful. But for Gil, she was more than that, she was extraordinarily safe.

He shrugged.

"Ready to talk about it?" she asked.

Gil set the tea down and turned to face her.

"It's simple, really," he said. "I lost control."

Heather rested her hand on his arm and guided him to the sofa, where they both sat down.

"There is nothing simple about losing control," she said. "The question is, why then? And why now? You need to be in control. The concept behind bondage with Carol was to assert your control, and yet that very act resulted in your losing control -- over your passion, over your life, over your relationships with others. Why?"

"Catherine hates me. Sara is furious with me. I've let down the team...."

"Stop avoiding the question, Gil," Heather insisted.

When his eyes turned away, she gently but firmly took his face in her hands and made him look at her.

"I'm not going to let you off the hook, here," she told him. "If you want to come out of this in one piece, you have to talk to me."

"I thought I could handle it," Gil admitted, speaking of Carol. "You allowed me to explore a part of myself I never wanted to look at. With you, I could do it. I was in control, and I was safe."

"Control is an illusion," Heather said.

"But with Carol.... She didn't know the rules. She never told me to stop. She...."

"This isn't about Carol," Heather said. "This is about you. Carol wasn't responsible for what you did to her; you are."

"She played me. She...."

"Gil!"

He let out an exasperated sigh.

"But I didn't lose it with Catherine. I swear I didn't. I never hurt her."

"What's the difference, between Carol and Catherine, that is?" Heather asked.

"I told Catherine that Carol was just about the sex, not about love."

"Is that true?"

"I love Catherine. I didn't love Carol. That part is true."

"And?"

Gil felt ashamed. He lowered his eyes.

"With Carol, it was about me. I needed to do it. I needed to feel that passion in my life, again. I needed her. And she knew how to get to me. She knew all the buttons to push...."

"Stop blaming Carol," Heather ordered. "And how was it with Catherine?"

"It was about her. I wanted her to feel my love for her. I wanted her to know that I would do anything to make her happy."

"Sounds to me like it was still about you," Heather noted.

Gil leaned back in the sofa and closed his eyes.

"Why is this so goddam complicated," he groaned.

"Love and sex are always complicated," she replied.

"I have to go into work today and face them. I don't know how I'm going to do that."

"Gil," Heather said, her voice soft and reassuring, "you need to let them know, honestly, what you're going through. They're your friends. If you give them an inch, they will help you, they will forgive you, they will get you through this. But if you close them out because you're ashamed of what you are, of what you've become, you'll only hurt them and yourself. The question is, are you ready to think about them instead of yourself? Can you do that?"

"But, what if...."

"Stop right there. No excuses. No turning back. You know what you did to Carol, and to Sara. And you're this close to destroying your relationship with Catherine. You have nothing to lose, here, Gil. And everything to gain. You're a smart man. Don't blow this."

*******

Grissom arrived at the crime lab just as the nightshift was winding down. He stood back and watched Sara debrief her team in the conference room. He smiled, proud of her. She had stepped into the role of supervisor with greater ease than he had expected. He had underestimated her. As her team broke up, she turned to find him staring at her. Sara was clearly nervous.

"Grissom," she said, coolly.

He deserved that, and he knew it, but it still cut him.

"Can we talk in my office?" he asked.

"That depends...." she began.

"I won't lay a hand on you. I promise," he assured her.

He turned to leave, and she followed him. Once in the office, she closed the door behind them.

At first, Grissom was going to sit behind his desk, but he thought better of it. He had enough obstacles to overcome in this conversation, without creating any more. So he motioned for her to join him on the sofa. She was tense, clearly afraid of what he'd do, next. He rubbed his neck, trying to relieve the tension, before beginning.

"Sara, I've treated you badly, and I'm sorry," he said. "I've never been so close to a total breakdown as I was last night, but that's no excuse. I was angry at Braun, and I'd had a fight with Catherine. But mostly I was angry at myself. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You're right. You shouldn't have," she said, eyeing him warily.

"It made me realize...." he paused.

"What?"

"Things have to change, between us." He thought a moment. "No, that's not fair. I have to change. I have to be honest with you."

"About what?"

"About us, Sara. About the way I've taken advantage of your feelings for me."

Sara was frowning, trying to put the pieces together for a bigger picture.

"I knew how you felt about me, and I didn't do anything about it. I was only thinking about what I needed, not what you needed."

Sara started to object, but he cut her off.

"When I talked you out of leaving, I wasn't thinking about what was best for you. I was thinking about how much I needed you. You stroke my ego. You make me feel special. You keep me young and on my toes. You idolized me...."

"Well, I wouldn't say idolize, exactly...." Sara interrupted.

"Call it whatever you want; it doesn't matter. I didn't feel the same way about you, but I never told you, because I needed what you gave me. It was a cruel thing for me to do to you. And I'm sorry."

"How do you feel about me, now?" she asked, emboldened by his candid statements.

"I'm proud of you. I respect you. You... You're like a daughter to me, like the child I never had. In a sense, you are the only family I have left. That's why I was so uncomfortable with your overtures. It felt wrong. And that's why I didn't want you to leave me and join the feds. I couldn't protect you, out there."

Sara, stunned, stared at him.

"You're right," she said. "You should have told me how you felt."

For a minute, they just studied each other.

"Now, what?" Sara asked.

"You're a good CSI, Sara," Gil said. "One of the best. And you'll be a damn good supervisor. I want you to stay, not for me, and not for the team, but because it's what you want."

When she didn't answer right away, he continued.

"You've made too many sacrifices for me, Sara, and I didn't deserve that."

"It was my choice," she said.

He nodded. "I know."

Sara pursed her lips.

"Do you know how royally pissed off I am at you, right now?" she asked.

"I got a pretty good idea," he said.

Sara allowed herself a shy smile.

"Just one question."

"What?"

"Am I your favorite child?"

Grissom smiled.

"Absolutely," he said.

"Then I forgive you for being an ass."

When she kissed him on the cheek this time, he didn't squirm.

*******

Gil stood outside Catherine's office door and gently rapped on it. A part of him was hoping she wouldn't be in; another part knew he couldn't put this off, any longer.

"Come in," she said, sounding tired.

She looked up at him when he opened the door, her eyes bloodshot and swollen, and he felt his heart plummet in his chest.

"I don't think this is going to work," she said, before he even opened his mouth. "I'll have my resignation on your desk by noon."

"Can we talk, first?" he asked, closing the door behind him and taking a seat.

"Gil, I've been up all night thinking about this...."

"Please, Catherine. I know I've asked a lot of you, but I need you to hear me out. After that, you can do whatever you want, and I won't stop you."

She relented, leaning back in her chair.

"You were right," he began. "I had no right doing what I did. And I have no right coming between you and your father, no matter how I feel about him."

"That's an enlightened statement," she snapped.

He took a deep breath, trying to get the courage to go forward.

"I've been told I have control issues," he said.

A sarcastic laugh escaped her, but when she saw the pain on his face, she reigned in her feelings.

"This last week, I had no control over my life at all. I lost my job, my status, my team, my sense of safety. I was handcuffed, locked up, cavity searched, processed and photographed naked. Someone invaded by home, trashed my belongings, even killed my tarantulas."

Catherine squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable with those images.

"I blamed Sam Bruan, and I shouldn't have."

"He set you up. I know that," Catherine said.

"He just opened the door. I was the one who walked through."

Catherine was paying serious attention to him, now. Gil continued.

"Sam knew my weakness. That's why he sent Carol. She knew how to push my buttons, how to make me do what she wanted me to do. What she didn't know was how far I'd take it."

Catherine sat straight up, her full attention on Gil.

"I told you that I had to be in control in the bedroom," he said. "I didn't mean I had to be in control of you. I meant I had to be in control of me. Complete control. If I give up that control...."

His heart was beating fast and he was having trouble breathing.

"If I give up that control," he began, again, "I hurt people. Like I hurt Carol. Like I'm afraid I could hurt you."

"Gil," Catherine interrupted, "she lured you into her apartment. She came on to you. She knew...."

"Tell me something, Catherine," he said. "At what point during sex does yes become no?"

She was silent, staring at him, remembering the countdown.... One.... Two.... Three.... At five, there was no turning back.

"Sam knew what I would do. He probably knows me better than I know myself. But I should have walked away."

"You said it was just sex," she reminded him.

"It was just sex, and that's why I let my guard down."

He looked down at the floor, shaking his head.

"If I hadn't hurt her, she would have been able to fight off Eckley. She would be alive, today."

"You don't know that, Gil."

"Yes, I do. And so does Jim. And so does Atwater. And so does Sam Braun."

"How does Jim know?" she asked.

Gil felt his chest tightening.

"He has a video tape."

"Of what?"

He swallowed.

"Of me. Of Carol. Of Eckley. It's what cleared me of the murder."

Catherine sat back, searching for some sign from the man who wouldn't look at her.

"You're telling me that you raped her," she said, softly.

"It didn't start out that way, but, yes, it ended up that way. I lost control."

"But not with me?"

"After what happened with Carol, I couldn't afford to lose control with you. I never want to hurt you, Catherine. Ever. But I after last night, I knew that I could. I had to walk away."

Catherine was silent for a moment, taking in everything she had heard and wondering what to do with it.

"Now, what?" she asked.

"I'm turning the Eckley investigation over to Sophia Curtis. She's the only one I can think of who will treat the case professionally," he said.

Catherine nodded.

"And what about us?" she asked.

Gil stood up and reached for the door.

"There is no us, Catherine," he said, swallowing the tears that fought to erupt. "Sam knew that. That's why he set me up. He wanted to expose me to you. He knew what I'd do. And he knew he had to protect you from me."

"Gil! Don't you dare go out that door!" Catherine yelled, jumping out of her seat and hurrying up to him.

He couldn't bring himself to face her.

"Look at me!" she demanded.

His hand tightened on the doorknob as he shut his eyes.

"Look -- at -- me!" she repeated.

Opening his eyes, he faced her. He was wilting under the heat of her glare.

"You don't need another Eddie in your life," he told her.

"Damn, you, Grissom!" she said. "You're not Eddie. Not by a long shot. Eddie never understood what he was doing wrong. He didn't get it. He couldn't get it. But you do. You understand. You want to be different. Don't you dare compare yourself to Eddie."

He wanted to believe her, but he didn't know what to say.

"You asked me if I could love you half as much as I loved Eddie," she said. "I love you twice as much. If I forgave Eddie a hundred times, I can forgive you two hundred."

"You shouldn't have to," he said.

"You're right. I shouldn't. But if you walk out that door, now, you're taking that choice away from me." She watched him struggle with his emotions. "Do you love me, Gil?" she asked.

"You know I do."

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

She nodded.

"I'm not ready to let you go, yet," she said.

"But...."

"Shut up and listen! It's my turn to talk!"

He shut up.

"We were friends long before we were lovers. And we're still friends. More than that, we're equals. No one gets to be in charge in this relationship. No one gets to call the shots. If we're going to build a relationship, we both have to learn to let go. We build it together, or we don't build it at all."

He felt the tension easing in his chest.

"I don't know how to do that," he admitted.

"We'll learn, together," she answered,

"Do you forgive me?" he asked.

"I haven't decided yet."

When Gil left, Catherine sunk into her chair, trying to sort out her emotions. When she felt calm enough, she picked up the phone and called Sam Bruan.

-- TBC --