"Come on, Nick!" Sara called, voicing the impatience that they both felt, "We're gonna be late!"

A response was heard, but not understood as it was muffled by the door that separated them, but as Nick was still behind that door, they assumed he had requested that they wait.

Sara sat down on the edge of the bed, with a sigh. Warrick turned to her and smiled sympathetically. "We have to do this. She's our friend."

"I know. But it's not gonna be easy. Weddings should be happy occasions, our present states are gonna ruin her day."

"We've just gotta be happy for her. Take a leaf out of Grissom's book. It's him that's stopping us being pleased, yet he seems to be dealing with it. Maybe we should stop worrying."

"But he's not okay. It pains me to watch him smiling and laughing and being all excited, it's just an act. I feel like grabbing hold of him and shaking him 'til he comes to his senses," Sara said, getting more and more agitated as she spoke.

"That wouldn't help anyone. He has to let go. Perhaps we should let him do it his own way. Maybe helping her prepare for today has eased some of the pain. There was no, one minute she's here, next minute she's not."

Sara sighed again. "Only one person understands how Grissom's mind works, and she seems oblivious to all of this. We're gonna lose him, Warrick, he'll disappear, he'll retreat too far, and there'll be no Catherine to bring him back this time."

A knock on the door interrupted before they could continue, and was shortly followed by Grissom entering the room.

"Hey, are you guys ready?" he asked, his voice cheerful and bouncy.

"Nick's still in the bathroom," Warrick said.

"Still?! Nick, come on! What are you doing in there?"

Another muffled reply was heard and Grissom turned to the others. "What?"

Warrick shook his head. "We don't know."

"Grissom, what is with you?" Sara suddenly yelled, unable to restrain herself any longer.

"Excuse me?" Grissom said, laughing at the stern look on Sara's face.

"How can you just sit back and watch her... no, help her, marry someone else?!! You can't wait til the minister asks if anyone objects to object, you need to intervene beforehand! You've never even admitted that you love her in front of us, how the hell are you gonna admit in front of hundreds of people? Half of which are gonna seriously hate you for it!"

Grissom's response was delayed by both his shock, and the fact that Sara had spoken so quickly that he was still taking it in. Once he had processed everything he replied, calmly, "I'm not going to object."

"What?!! That makes even less sense! You can't let her go! You love her! You've always loved her. Now would be a good time to tell her. Before it got this far would have been better, but it's too late for that."

"She chose him, Sara. It's not my place to interfere."

Whilst he was trying to maintain the disguise he had worn for the last three months, Sara and Warrick saw it slip as he said those words, `She chose him'. They saw the pain that they had seen when he returned to work after running off to speak to her about the letter. The pain that had quickly been hidden, but not quickly enough for it to go completely unnoticed.

Sara didn't want to shout anymore, he was hurting enough with out her reminding him of what he was losing, but she had one more point to make, so she did it sedately. "But was she aware that she had a choice? Did she know there was another option?"

This time Grissom's mask slipped further as Sara's insightful stare penetrated his barricade. He stood in silence, eyes locked with hers, all the pain he knew he needed to suppress building up behind them. He had been telling himself he had to let go, and he still felt that was his best option. He wouldn't spoil her day. He would watch her marry Andrew, and then they would both move on.

Her ivory gown cascaded to the floor in waves of shimmering silk. The bodice was embroidered with flowers, in the same colour as the dress except for a single red rose above her left hip, representing the memory of their first date. Pearls surrounded her neckline, and the theme continued into her hair, swept back and adorned with pearls and delicate white flowers. She radiated beauty.

She studied her reflection, considering each intricate decoration, the time and hard work taken to produce such a perfect creation, the dedication of everyone involved in making this day the most special of her life.

She studied her face, filled with uncertainty and fear, cheeks stained with tears that she had earlier just managed to keep in, lest they shatter the confident front she had needed to convey.

She studied herself. The image in front of her, the meaning of it all, the dress, the day, she thought of him, and she knew she had made the right decision.

A month later...

She was walking towards him, seemingly engrossed in reading the file in her hands. He took a deep breath and built up the courage to speak to her, but she just walked straight past him.

He tried to put it down to her concentration on the words she read, and continued on his path.

After turning the corner, she lowered the file, and tried to stop her hands and lips from trembling.