She had taken as long as she possibly could in the locker room. She had slowly taken off her lab coat and hung it up. Catherine had left to go and see Lindsay. She had pulled her sweater over her head, and then fixed her hair. Nick had walked out, pulling on his jacket as he went. She had taken her jacket out of her locker and waved good-bye to Warrick as he headed home, and still Grissom hadn't entered the locker room.

Sara threw her coat back into her locker, and set out in search of him. The break room, layout room, and lab were full of day shift, and there was no Grissom about. Finally, she made her way to his office, and found him sitting behind the desk. He didn't look up when she stood in the doorway, but she hadn't expected him to. Sara watched, leaning up against the door post, as he read his computer screen, oblivious to her presence. Feeling slightly awkward, she coughed lightly, and moved her hand to cover her mouth in such a way that she was positive he would see her arm out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, a question in his eyes.

She moved into the office and sat down across from him, deliberately making sure that the computer screen was between her mouth and his eyes. He moved his laptop to another part of his desk. She wasn't positive, but she thought she saw frustration that was unrelated to the case. He was staring at her, waiting for her to speak, and when she didn't, he took the initiative.

"I was brainstorming." He said, waving a hand in the general direction of his displaced computer. "Seeing if the computer could tell me anything."

"You've been doing that a lot lately." She replied, trying not to sound too snarky. "There have been a few cases lately where all you've done is tap away on the computer while the rest of us hit the pavement."

He cocked his head to the side. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on his desk, and her chin in her hands. When he made no reply, she put her hands together in front of her mouth.

"You taught us to observe." She began. "to notice things that were out of place or different. You taught me to read people. I was terrible at it. Well, congratulations Grissom, I've improved. Not only can I tell you're hiding something, I know more or less what it is you're hiding."

She brought her hands down. "Do you have any idea what I just said?"

"You lay an elegant trap Sara." He replied, and then answered her question. "Something about observing people, and hiding things. When did you know?"

"It was a gradual thing." She admitted. "First in the Haviland trial, then in that peeping Tom case, but mostly I put together the pieces. Nick said something after that paragliding case, Brass mentioned something about lips, Catherine and Warrick both have stories. Even Greg has noticed something Grissom. Of course, none of them have heard each other's stories, as far as I know anyway, so I am the only one with a near completed puzzle. The only piece I am missing is yours, but I know what shape it is. You didn't hear the music boxes at all tonight did you? You guessed. You picked a lullabye and guessed. It was The Moonlight Sonata Grissom. Nick just didn't know that."

Grissom took his glasses off and set them down on the desk. He wondered how he could have been so incautious. How could he have let so many things slip? The more he thought about it, he realized that he was foolish to think he could have concealed anything from his team. He had, after all, trained them to observe, and as Sara pointed out, that was all she had to do. He was suddenly so proud of her, he thought he'd burst.

"Otosclerosis Sara. I am going deaf." He found it easier to say than he thought it would be. "My hearing goes in and out like a cheap radio, and I am having surgery on it in a month to save whatever is left."

"We wondered why you had two weeks of vacation booked." Sara said, a hint of a smile on her face. "I checked the web for cockroach races and there weren't any."

"I think you know me to well Sara Sidle." He said.

"I don't really." She replied, smile gone. "That's part of the problem I think."

"Do you remember that coffee bar on the university campus?" he asked suddenly.

"Of course." She said. "Open 24 hours, great coffee, lots of workspace. I practically lived there.'

"I found a café that's almost as good." He told her, and the smile returned. "Sans the overworked students of course. Would you like to go for a coffee before you go home to sleep? We can talk."

The smile that had been hinting around the corners of her mouth stretched across her face in that familiar way he hadn't seen very often of late. He, whose hearing was flawed, heard loudly and clearly as the wall that had grown up between them over the last few months was struck by the first few blows of the ultimate wrecking ball. Standing together, they headed for the locker room, for caffeine, and for a renewed friendship.

* * * * * * *

A.N. The Moonlight Sonata is by Beethoven, and sounds nothing like "The Cradle Song". No offence Nicky.