Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Wish they were, but they're not. Que Sera Sera.
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POV-Crawling Around Inside Their Heads-Grissom -------------------------------------------------------------------

Man, I wonder if she knows what she does to me. I mean, every time she walks in a room I can feel her before I see her. I've never felt this way about another human being before. I've never wanted to scoop someone up in my arms and hug the life from them. Oftentimes my thoughts about her are less than pure, however, I suspect the same is true of her. I see the way she looks at me sometimes when she doesn't think I'm looking. If I had to pick one of her character attributes is most attractive to me, I would have to choose her tenacity. Everyday she shows up for work and kicks ass. She's no nonsense and pours 150 of herself into what she's doing. I'm not sure what everyone else in the lab thinks about me and how I feel about her, but I know they think something's up.

Catherine, the Queen of inter office gossip, told me the other day that she heard Nick and Warrick in the locker room talking about Sara and I. Something to the effect of Sara having a rather racy dream about me that she had told Greg of all people. Apparently, we were doing things that, I'm sure, are illegal in the great state of Nevada.

Sitting in my office, I can see her walk by in that brisk sort of glide that she does. From my desk I can see that she's wearing those jeans I love so much...the way they hug her butt and thighs. They're low rise, which show off her flat tummy...God, I love those jeans. I can't even recall the number of times I've dreamed and fantasized about slipping her out of them and sliding her under my bedclothes. But as her supervisor, and thusly not able to indulge my desires, I admire from afar and all I've got to keep me company in respects to her are the visions and mental movies I keep locked away in my mind, playing them back at random and, sad to say, when I feel my wanting for her growing stronger by the day.

I recall one time in particular, she and I were on a case, just the two of us, and it was dark and cold out. We were in the middle of the desert, searching a cave for evidence of a crime that had been reported there. The body had been removed so it was now just the two of us in this dank, dark hole in the world when the ground began to shake uncontrollably. The sidewalls began to crumble and the roof caved in at the entrance, effectively stranding us. It was in the middle of January and as we looked at our watches we knew the sun would be going down very soon. Trying to raise the lab on our phones and walkies, we were unsuccessful. We checked our kits to see what we had in the way of supplies and didn't come up with much, save for a few granola bars she'd smuggled in in the pockets of her cargo pants and two bottles of water.

Our torches on, we ventured further into the cave, Sara suggesting that it might not be as cold down there as it was up near the entrance. Most often caves had a mean temperature of around 55 degrees, give or take, so as we settled in about 50 yards from the opening we decided to postpone evidence collection until we'd been rescued.

This was good in several ways. On the one hand it gave she and I a chance to talk about things and since I couldn't say the usual "Greg just paged me" or "I'm needed in the lab", I was forced to hash things out. Sitting with my back leaning against the inside wall, I tried my best to relax as she began. She told me how she felt about me and the problems that my position as superior presented. Until then I'd had no idea of the extent of her emotions, so when she was done it was my turn, so to speak...and boy, did I ever. I told her that I did, in fact, have similar feelings for her but as she'd said, my position over her was a problem.

In the end, we'd been rescued the following day and the evidence having been collected as best we could, we returned to the lab where I sit now, watching, wishing and wanting to explore the depths of my feelings for her. But in the foreseeable future that day will never come. So I sit, semi-content to watch her live her life without me in it and hopes that our experience will enlighten her to the difficulties of our being involved in a non-work capacity.

There she goes, down the hall, around the corner and out of my sight...and life.