Disclaimer: I am ready for the onslaught from CBS for borrowing their characters. I am going to disarm them with a big huge hug and a bucket full of romance… they know they would love that really!

Author Notes: Computer is back… it's working to a point… the CD drive does not work… my computer is either unaware of its existence, or sometimes it knows it's there, but it doesn't work… but I am loath to let the repair people take it away again. The rest of the thing now works, so that is A HUGE IMPROVEMENT! I just wish they hadn't messed with the CD as it worked perfectly before!! If anyone has any ideas? (Other than save up… you need a new computer!) I'd be grateful!!

Anyway. On to the more important stuff! I'm still working on my WIP… I am plodding along happily, but I was tempted to write this… and the rest is history! It's set during the season 7 episode 'Ending Happy'…. I'm filling in the gaps again!! And as per usual I started off aiming to be short, but it keeps evolving… So this is going to be a two parter…

Hope you enjoy!!

Ending Happily.

By Rianne.

The darkness rushed past the outside of the car.

Thousands and thousands of miles of shadowy desert stretching out on either side of the highway.

Sand and brush and sand and more sand, and the occasional flowering cactus, streaming past at some unknown but exhilarating speed.

In the day the landscape was bleached of its colour by the hot beating sun.

In the night, with no light to reflect off the tiny grains of sand, the seemingly endless expanse became black and eerie and infinite.

And now it was roaring past her through the passenger side window in a blur, palely lit by the passing beam of their SUV headlamps, which barely illuminated more than a few feet before them and meant it was hard work and took serious concentration to keep to the road.

And spreading out behind them in a trailing fog was a vast dust cloud from the motion of their passage, their very own sandstorm.

And nothing else.

They hadn't seen another vehicle since they had left Vegas City limits.

Nothing but endless space and staggering sky.

Making their usually looming vehicle into a tiny little joke on wheels.

Miles from anywhere.

Just she and Grissom.

Completely alone.

It was exciting.

There were tingles in her stomach, residual tingles that had been there all day, and newer tingles that the prospect of a road trip always brought on.

The taunt of adventure tickling her nerves with licks of anticipation at doing something different.

This was what she loved about her job, the thrill of the chase, even though the outcome of their journey would be the same as always.

There was still a 419 waiting at the end of the line.

It was still a human being who had suffered unnaturally, or inexplicably who lay in wait for them.

But there was a buzzing in her veins at being outside the city limits.

At being far away from the neon glow and the noise and chaos.

Outside the car the wind whipped by as they drove, cold and raw.

Battering the vehicle as it blasted its way through the fields of sand.

She found herself imaging what their little SUV looked like from the sky, roaring down the endless road.

As far from anywhere as you can get.

It was a heady reminder of her place in existence.

Of how easily they could get lost out here and never be found again.

But inside the car it was warm and cosy and safe, as Sara curled deeper into her winter jacket.

She had never dreamed of needing one when she had moved away from Boston and headed out to California and then Nevada.

Yet tonight she was very glad of it.

And she was even more pleased with her company this evening.

Grissom.

For appearances sake he didn't pair them together as much anymore.

He couldn't seem to favour her any more than any of the others, even with his time or his teaching.

So when she had slunk into the break room, deliciously delayed, only fifteen minutes before shift today, she had been expecting to be paired with Warrick or with Nick, or even Greg.

Fifteen minutes early for shift was like being hours late in Sara world.

Deliciously delayed…

She smiled out at the desert flying by her window.

Only two hours before her shift, when she would normally have been in the Lab already, or at least in the shower, or dressing for the day, or out running errands before the bank or the post offices shut, she had instead been curled up in bed in Grissom's arms.

Quite possibly content enough to never be tempted to move again.

Her head resting on his solid shoulder, enjoying the way she rose and fell gently with his breathing.

He had been asleep, he actually slept a lot more than he let on.

She still slept like it was an enforced punishment most nights, but the simple fact that she wasn't attempting to sleep alone these days had surprisingly made a difference to her sleeping habits.

She wandered less.

She didn't head out on midday eight-mile runs in the sweltering Vegas heat.

Or spend hours listening to her police scanner before rushing out at the first sign of a case that might require a CSI presence.

Now she had a reason to stay in bed.

Sometimes she just lay there and watched him sleep.

He would probably think she was crazy if he knew that, but she loved it.

She loved just lying there with him, enjoying the weight of his arms around her, the way he sometimes stirred in his sleep, murmuring her name, nuzzling into her, before settling again.

That afternoon she had been reading, comfortably resting, the book of poetry he had recently gifted her with had been in her hand, the romantic and beautiful words flowing through her mind.

The little book, old, quite possibly antique, smelt like knowledge, bound in dark soft leather, a first edition, gilt edges to the pages, little hearts and flowers embossing every numbered page.

The nicest thing anyone had ever given her and he hadn't even given it to commemorate anything. She had just come home to find the little hand wrapped parcel on the kitchen side.

A little mystery all for her, in pale blue paper sprinkled with clouds, with a small rectangular card with her name scrawled across it.

He had been sat on the couch, just across the room, for all intent and purpose reading, his nose buried in a newspaper, but she had felt his gaze on her.

Flitting her attention questioningly towards him she had seen his eyes dart away, had seen him hide his smirk behind the black and white paper.

Shy about this?

Shy about the giving?

Shy about the sentiment?

It didn't matter.

She had already been blushing with pleasure.

The wrapper had been loud as she had eased it open.

She wanted to be careful, to preserve this moment and all its unexpected possibility.

A part of her longing to be able to scurry away from his gentle, but watchful gaze and open the parcel somewhere private where she could squeal to her hearts content about what ever token lay beneath the wispy clouds.

It was already clear from the shape and the size and the weight that it was a book.

That part was no surprise. He had given her books before.

Always encouraging her in her irrepressible thirst for knowledge.

He had loaned her books, and even one Christmas a few years back had given her an entomology textbook as a present and she had treasured that learning tool as if it had been the most important volume in her bookshelf, which considering her and her love of books was high praise indeed.

It had only been later, when Nick had embarrassed her in front of Hodges by pointing out to her that he had never received a Christmas gift from Grissom, that she had realised that the book might have been more than just a quick thoughtless present from a boss to an employee.

It had been in that very moment that she had realised just how much she shouldn't have opened her mouth about it and also from that moment she had almost given herself an ulcer trying to figure out retrospectively what motive had lain behind his giving just her something.

But things were very different now.

She had no need to feel insecure about anything between them anymore.

They were together; and they had been together for over a year.

Yeah, there had been shaky patches, the biggest surrounding his recent unannounced, and undiscussed departure to teach in Boston.

But that had been smoothed over.

He had returned a lighter man, a man more comfortable with his emotions and he had made her feel treasured and loved ever since.

Had soothed her through her fears that she wasn't enough, that she hadn't been able to help him when she saw him suffering.

And recently the house that they had moved into just before he had disappeared had warmed and become a real haven to her.

Their own place together.

Her very own home.

They had a real kitchen, and sitting room, a bathroom bigger than her entire dorm room at Harvard, and a huge bed to share.

They had an office with shelf after shelf of books.

They even had pictures, framed personal photographs.

And even more importantly, they had a dog.

A beautiful loyal creature who liked her, and who adored Grissom.

They had chosen the boxer for his sad eyes and his almost desperate gaze, which had found in them a kindred feeling.

A lonely and deserving soul.

Listed for possible destruction if a home for him could not be found, considered too old to be adopted, too big, but for them he had been perfect.

She had found herself a little family.

She couldn't ask for more.

And lately she had been lazily luxuriating in it.

Sleeping in, or at least lazing in.

Cleaning the house and feeling all domestic, which was not a role she had ever envisioned herself delighting in.

She had previously cleaned for sanitary purposes, but she had certainly found pleasure in sharing everyday household tasks with Grissom, and the day that they had painted their new bedroom was certainly a very sweet and intimate memory she hoped to never forget.

And so these days, she found herself, not only comfortable to be away from work, but happy to be.

She could always find something else to be getting on with, whereas previously thoughts of work had occupied her every breathing moment.

She had definitely found her diversion.

But she did miss spending time with him at work.

She understood it, but that certainly didn't mean she had to like this new arrangement.

That was why she was surprised that he had paired them together tonight.

She turned away from the world outside her window to study the world that reigned inside the comfortable cabin of their SUV.

He was focusing his attention to the road, his expression very serious.

His forehead creased a little as he strained to see through the sand blasting across the windshield.

She didn't envy him the task of driver tonight.

She took the time to study him some.

Appreciating the little seemingly insignificant things she knew about him.

Remembering the stroke of his lips as he kissed her skin.

Recalling the smile in his eyes as he had brought her to tears with the words he had written in the little poetry volume.

On the outside it was a modest book of romantic poetry.

That somehow housed more feeling in the world between its pages than a thousand modern fictions or movies.

An item with such care taken in its making, with such depth to its contents, disguised by such an unassuming cover.

Just like the gift giver.

An endless surprise, with so much going on beneath the surface.

That book.

It had been very intimately inscribed.

"These words are what my heart longs to say to yours."

Words which caught her breath even now.

Which had meant she had devoured that little volume word for word, cover to cover over and over.

It still made her smile.

Still made her heartbeat stumble.

She had stowed it under her pillow, so that she could keep it close, draw it out during the quiet hours, as she had that morning, so that she could snuggle closer to his sleeping form to read and reflect and smile.

The once lonely late afternoon hours now filled to the brim.

Their bed now filled with daydreams.

As she would idly imagine him thinking of her as he read these words.

Imagine him reading them to her with his emotions buoying his soothing voice.

Knowing that he would be unable to look at her as he read, knowing how sweet it was that he always struggled to show how he felt, yet he tried anyway.

Shy and nervous, in a way which jumbled her insides.

Still afraid at times that he wasn't enough for her.

When he was everything she had ever wanted and even more.

What more could a woman want than to be stretched out gloriously bare beside the man she loved.

It always amused her how shy he was about his body, they could loose clothes at a rapid rate of knots, but once he had tumbled her into slumber, she more often than not awoke some time later refreshed and smiling to find him fast asleep, fully dressed once more in pyjama pants and a t-shirt.

And yet for all that, one of his favourite things was to wander around their home fully clothed, but barefoot, even on the stone tiles!

She had never mentioned it to him, but it tickled her.

It amused her to see his bare toes poking out of his trousers, or displayed for all to see on their coffee table. That she had mentioned. NO feet on the furniture in her house.

She had always imagined herself to be shy about her body too, but recently she had discovered the joys to be found in lounging nude and sensual in his arms.

She liked to lie beside him as he read, or watched TV, stretched out on her stomach, the bed sheets only just high enough to skim her lower back.

She'd read, turning the pages with the utmost attention to the words, whilst she felt the heat of his gaze trace the dip of her back, her shoulders, the curving sides of her half concealed breasts.

She loved the attention he lavished to her bared skin.

With his eyes, feeling the goose bumps rise and her nipples peak.

And tempted like that it was never long before his lips replaced his gaze.

Gliding over her, warming even more intimately.

Joined too by his touch.

By the very light breeze of his fingertips.

Teasing and ticklish, making her squirm.

Yes, there was definitely something pleasurable about relaxing bare.

It made her feel powerful and more aware of her femininity, especially as she moved against him, or against the sheets on their bed.

The one thing he had insisted on when they bought his home together – expensive, high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.

She always felt like the Queen of Sheba as she sprawled.

And she had this morning.

But he had slept on. Just coming off a double shift.

It was good for him to sleep. Necessary.

Yet now it meant that it was her unhappy job to wake him up.

But watching him snooze, looking so content and relaxed she had allowed him another five minutes.

And then another.

But with only an hour and a half left before shift she had decided that she was going to have to wake him.

She had sighed softly, easing closer, reaching out to stroke her fingers over his brow.

Still swept up in sleep his features twitched in reaction to her caress, but settled again.

So she kissed him.

Trailing her lips over his cheeks, over his closed eyelids, and flickering lashes, teasing him awake, nuzzling his ears.

Whispering snippets from the now memorized poems.

Words of love and affection and desire.

Words returned from her heart to his.

Then she had found herself gasping and giggling as he stirred beneath her, instinctively encircling her in his arms and tightening his hold as he had nuzzled back, returning her affections.

And those pyjamas of his had been thrown from the bed with abandon.

They had only just made it to work in time.

They had skulked into the Lab as quietly as they could.

She had headed to the break room, whilst he had taken a detour via his office.

She had found everyone sat together around the table, awaiting assignments.

A minute later, as the others were greeting her, she had seen Gil slide into the room out of the corner of her eye.

He had been studiously ignoring her, which she knew meant nothing, but on her low days could twinge.

Luckily today her sated body and mind was already happily jet lagging by a good hour, had you asked her where she was right now, she would have most likely told you she was right back in bed doing wicked things to the man she loved!

Grissom had then given the assignments out with a quirky smile.

Oblivious to the others questioning glances.

He had been handed a cup of Greg's Blue Hawaiian upon entering the break room.

That was enough to put a smile on anyone's face.

Maybe that was why he was smiling.

Yet Grissom's happy was a contagious kind of happy.

Around the table, one by one, they all found smiles creeping up on them.

It was that excitable happy that Grissom occasionally got when he had the chance to try out some off the wall experiment.

That could mean anything was ahead of them tonight.

She had watched him from her chair, noticing all the little things about him that were different lately.

The relaxed smile wasn't the only new addition to the Gil Grissom that stood before her.

He had taken up a relaxed position in his seat.

The way he lounged taunted her to stroke her eyes over the slouch of him.

And only she knew that he was lazy sated, not lazy bored, or lazy tired.

At least that was why she hoped he was all smiley.

Why there was a crinkle around his blue eyes.

Damn, she knew she should be more confident than this, an hour ago she would have been sure, but this double life of hers was so divided.

When she stepped over the threshold into the realm of work, she had always been as adamant as he was about keeping their more intimate foray private and away from the Lab.

But sometimes she wished that he would just send her some sign when they were at work and surrounded by the others to prove that the man across the room from her was the very same man who had been in intimate rhythmic stroke with her less than an hour ago.

But there was no such forthcoming connection, she just had to trust herself and trust him.

He did look happy though, even the way he was calmly listening to Greg's usual cheeky joke as the younger CSI's gathered his most likely overdue paperwork, yellow assignment slip already curling in fist, was a delight to watch.

Catherine and Warrick were on Lab duties today, keeping them out of the field.

Nick and Greg were to head out to Grissom's case later after they had finished up on their current case.

Yet Grissom had still sat there, across the table from her, just calmly smiling, sipping his coffee.

And she had been left still waiting for her assignment.

And then had come a surprise.

What may have been the little reach out that she had been longing for.

Finally he had finished up by announcing, " And, Sara, you're with me."

And then she'd been told something vague involving the words, Binky's Cat House and Bryant County.

Yet those first five words had lingered, had made her hide her smile.

He had been smiling back at her.

He had even raised his eyebrows gamefully as he had downed the last sips of his coffee.

Swallowing it with a pleasure sigh, not breaking his gaze with hers, and in his eyes she had felt nude and tangled in their luxurious bed sheets in his arms again.

Could have almost envision before them, on the now empty break room table, a miniature version of them, arching and dizzy, drunk on pleasure, giddy on memories, writhing madly and unashamedly.

And if she read the way he was sweeping her, tips of her toes to the top of her head, slowly, savouringly, in a way that made her skin tingle and come alive, correctly, his thoughts were pretty similar.

They were getting dangerously close here.

Dangerously close to exposing themselves.

Without doing anything or saying anything at all.

Not enough affection and then way too much attention.

One extreme to the other within the blink of an eye.

All those smiles and happy sighs, they didn't even find themselves arguing over cases any more.

Sometimes they found it surprisingly easy to keep their distance, distracted by interesting cases and puzzles, but after morning wake-up's like the one they had just enjoyed it was extremely hard to hide their smugness.

It would have taken more strength than either possessed.

And why should they hide, why should they have to hide the fact that being with one another made them feel happy.

Oh, yeah, the rules, the Lab, their oblivious friends…

And if they didn't learn to bite down their smiles, it wouldn't be long before their extremely observant colleagues twigged.

But as they had sat there at that break room table only vaguely aware of the others leaving the room, leaving them behind, having some sort of joined surge of memory, it was so much harder to resist, too hard to break away.

They weren't known for being happy.

Which was a sad fact to hear.

And so to keep their newfound precious private time theirs and theirs alone, they had to be careful, as the rest of them were far too damn suspicious.

But she was fast becoming too happy to care!

She was working with him tonight!

And felt positively gleeful about it.

There had certainly been a long stretch in the last few years where those words, 'Sara, you're with me,' had never fallen from his lips and she had found herself every night longing to hear them from him to no avail.

So the prospect of working with him tonight was one of great pleasure.

It had taken another few moments to shatter their longing concentration and a sharp crash as Greg's haphazardly stacked case reports had avalanched free, tumbling to the floor as he had tried to turn sideways to navigate himself through the doorway.

And, so here she now was, passenger in a speeding car, careering through the desert on her way to a 419, with poems and pleasant memories rippling echoes through her brain.

And music.

Grissom's car. Grissom the driver. His CD. No discussion.

So around her the waving wafts of some classical strains that she couldn't name wavered.

Lulled and lingered.

There was no one else that she would rather be trapped alone with in the middle of nowhere than him!

But outside the car the desert wind was causing Gil to lean further forward, to almost press his forehead against the windshield glass as he hunched over the steering wheel.

He didn't look like he was having the night of his life.

"Gil," Her voice sounded small against the power of the elements.

She could have sworn she heard him grunt, but he didn't make any motion of replying.

His eyes thankfully didn't leave the road.

She leant toward him, her palm coming down gently on his knee, so as not to scare him.

"Let me drive for a bit." She offered, lightly squeezing his leg.

She certainly didn't miss the shake of his head.

She chose not to press him.

Quite wise.

"Then stop for a while," her attention was flitting between the road and her driver. "The DB isn't going anywhere."

She had softened her tone, kept it light.

But his frown was increasing.

"We don't want to get drifted in." he replied. Curt and sharper than maybe he should have, his Grissom supervisor head on his very heavy shoulders.

"We won't."

No response.

"I promise to dig you out," she coaxed with a smile.

He sighed, then she felt the car begin to slow.

Eventually pulling sideways off the road and to a stop.

He left the high beam lights on.

Reaching up to flick the SUV's inside cabin light on too.

Despite the headlamps glare she still blinked rapidly at the new closer glow.

"Hey," she whispered, grinning goofily at the way she must look literally like a started creature on the highway, before she reached up herself and shut off the inner light, plunging them back into intimate darkness.

He sighed again, rubbing his hand over his eyes and forehead, but he couldn't hide the quick flash of a smile in his eyes, as he was slowly lowering himself back to relax against his seat, and she swore she heard his back creak as he straightened it out.

Getting old. A touchy subject.

So she just sat quiet, listening to the louder sound of the desert surrounding them.

Listening to it create an odd kind of harmony with the rippling music gliding form the CD player, making her eardrums tingle.

With a faint snick she released her seat belt, rolling her shoulders.

That giddy feeling was filling her belly again, joining the warm glowing memories laced with the ghosts of recent pleasure.

He had closed his eyes, the giddy Gil from the break room earlier having been beaten quiet by the powerful wind.

His fingers were tensing and relaxing against his jeans. Flexing repeatedly.

Something was rising in the confined space they shared.

He looked so serious.

Before she had thought about it she had leant over the gap between the seats and pressed a quick kiss to his jaw.

The skin smooth, and beard free, beneath her lips.

She missed the beard.

But the jaw muscle was tense and firm, strong beneath the surface.

She breathed him in deep.

And before he had even had a chance to open his eyes she was back in her seat.

Hiding her grin.

But he was the one with the surprise.

Just as she turned back, to check if he had even noticed she had touched him, she found herself plundered.

His mouth hot and open and fast over hers.

Capturing her mouth mid gasp.

His fingers delving into her hair to drag her closer as his tongue swept hers hungrily.

The music and storm surrounding them rising to a tremendous crescendo of sound and desire.

To Be Continued