Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with CSI, not even a t-shirt.

A/n: This came to me in the middle of the night, and I had to write it. It's what I hope happened. This is dedicated to the GSR club. Please read and review.

Sara sat in her car, working up the energy to go into work like it was a normal day. Sighing, she laid her head on the steering wheel. It wouldn't be long now, and he would be gone. Picking up her head, she stared out of the window at the glittering lights of Vegas. All she could think was, four weeks. Four weeks of going to bed alone. Four weeks of waking up alone. It's not like she hadn't known it was coming. She'd known for weeks. She'd thought she'd been prepared. She'd even prepared a surprise going away party last night. She'd taken the night off, had done her utmost to give him a night he would never forget. She leaned her head back, remembering...

She placed the candles in the middle of the table, adjusted the silverware, smoothed the table linen. Looking around she couldn't see anything out of place. Going into the kitchen she checked the oven timer. The soufflé should be done in twenty minutes. It was time to get ready. Walking into the bedroom, she checked to make sure that all was ready in here as well. She'd put satin sheets on the bed. Candles flickered from every surface. Picking up the negligee from the end of the bed she strode into the bathroom. She'd showered earlier, and now her hair curled naturally around her face. He liked it like that, said he liked getting his fingers entangled in the curls. Now, she slipped on the gown. Running her hands over the contours of her body, she couldn't help but think that she'd better take it off before she slid into bed. Wouldn't want this turning into some kind of comical farce. Me slipping off the bed every time I tried to slip in, him laughing his head off. No, not quite the reaction she was looking for. Picking up her comb, she ran it through her curls just enough to tame them. Stepping back, she looked at herself fully in the mirror. "My, my." she thought. Aloud she whispered, "It's a good thing this came with a robe." The gown clung to her lithe body, hugging her from her breast to her knees. It was so sheer, her dusky nipples and the shadow of her garters and panties were clearly visible through the deep purple color. Slipping on the robe, it wasn't much better. Purple satin and lace. She could of course, have worn a dress for dinner and changed after, but this was their last night together for weeks. Changing clothes would eat up to much of that precious time.

Sitting on the bench at the end of the bed, she slipped on the high heeled slippers that went with the negligee. She'd already donned the sheer stockings. She stood up, feeling the unaccustomed scratch of the garter belt. He'd mentioned once, that as a teen he'd had a fascination with women who wore garters. They really weren't something she'd normally wear, but for this night, she wanted to fulfill as many fantasies of his that she could. Give him something to hold in his head, as well as his heart. Taking one last look around the room, she turned out the light, and went into the living room.

She checked the clock as she straightened the pillows on the couch. The blinds and the curtains were all closed, so as to simulate night and she had his favorite music playing on the stereo. If memories of tonight didn't keep him warm and toasty on the chilly east coast, well… there was always the phone.

Grissom wondered the lab, searching for the one person he really wanted to see before he left. It was one thing to say goodbye when you had plenty of time left. It was another when you were about to leave and wanted to see the face of the person you loved one more time before you left. Not that this morning hadn't been outstanding. Just thinking about it gave him chills...

Tiredly he opened the door. His head down as he juggled his briefcase, and the gift Hodges had given him. He noticed the music playing first, the soothing strains of his favorite composer. Looking up, he saw that the house was in darkness, but for the candles flickering from various points around the room. He was sure it was all very beautiful, but his gaze was riveted to the woman standing a few feet from the door. Sara. The candle light played across her smooth skin, her soft hair curling around her face. Her sleek body wrapped in shimmering purple. Staring fixedly he watched as she came toward him, stopping when she was as close as she could get, which wasn't close enough for him, as he still held his briefcase and that damn gift box. She reached forward and removed the items from his hands. Dropping them to the side, she then wrapped her arms around his neck. Leaning forward, she whispered against his mouth, "Welcome home, Dear." and began nibbling on his lips. He stood there, his dazed brain slowly processing the moment as she gently traced over his lips with her tongue. Finally he realized she wasn't going to deepen the kiss. Taking charge he clasped her head between his hands and brought their mouths firmly together, plunging his tongue into the sweet recesses of her mouth. Now she joined in, twirling her tongue around his and pressing her body against him. Wrapping his arms around her waist he lifted her and started for the bedroom, but halfway across the room she tore her mouth from his and gripped his shoulders. Breath coming in harsh gasps she shook her head, finally able to speak she whispered "No."

Shaking his head in confusion, he let her body slide down his until she was standing once again. Shaking his head he asked, his voice husky. "What do you mean, No?"

Sliding her hand down his arms, she clasped his hands where they were now resting on her hips. "I said no, because I have dinner planned and I want to get to that first. Now, go into the bedroom and put on what I've laid out for you."

Blinking, he tried to interrupt. "But..."

She cut him off. "Shh..." turning him and giving his tush a couple of pats, she repeated her instructions. "By the time you get back, dinner will be served."

Slowly he walked down the hall to the bedroom, feeling in a trance. When he walked into the bedroom, he saw that the candle theme continued in here. Walking to the bed, he saw that she'd made it with what looked to be black satin sheets. Across the end was a purple pair of boxers, and a black satin robe. His keen criminalist instincts sensed a theme. Changing quickly, he then slipped on the slippers waiting at the end of the bed. Tossing his clothes into the closet, he then walked back to the living room. Following the tantalizing scents he walked toward the dining alcove. He heard a noise, and turning saw her coming out of the kitchen carrying two plates. He watched her come towards the table, her long legs he saw now, encased in sheer black hose. His gaze traveled from her high heeled slippers, up her long legs over her deliciously clad body and settled on her face, with that heart stopping gap toothed smile. By this time she had reached the table, and had placed their plates down. Taking his hand she guided him to his chair urging him to sit. Going around to her side of the table, she sat and took out her napkin. "Eat, and tell me about your day." It was part of their normal routine.

Remembering the gift that Hodges had given him, he told her about it. "Yes, I saw that when I was putting away your things. How'd he know you were leaving?"

"Seems he saw my leave of absence request on Eckley's desk. So you know what happened next."

"Your plan for slipping away unnoticed went cablooey?"

He sighed, "Yeah, than Catherine came in while he was yammering about his experience at college, turns out he went to Williams. Anyway, Catherine came in and told me that she and Nick were going out of town on that Finch case."

"Wait, I thought that case was over, and the defendant was acquitted."

"It is, but she's convinced that he did it, along with two other murders." Looking around the table he noticed the champagne flutes next to the water glasses. "Are these here for decoration, or will we be filling them in the future?"

Smiling she told him, "It goes with dessert. If you'll remember, we do still both have to go into work tonight, and I for one may have to do some of that crime scene investigating we're so famous for." Not wanting to think of what was to come later on that night, she got the conversation back on track. "What'd Catherine say when you told her?"

"Hmm..." he looked up from his plate, "Oh, it was actually a non-reaction. She did make the point of asking how long I'd known."

"That's all she said?" She said, putting down her fork and picking up her water glass.

"Yeah, it seemed odd to me too at first. But now I think she was just too wrapped up in her case, and it's not like she's never been a supervisor before. I think the only thing she felt, aside from impatience to get going on this case, was annoyance at me for not giving her more notice." he picked up his water glass, and took a sip. "I did talk to Warrick before I left. Told him I had taught you guys all I could, and it was time for a break."

"Aw, you teach me something new everyday, and you may have trained them well but, I don't think that they're so well trained they don't need help every now an then. Otherwise, how have we been able to hide our relationship from them for so long?"

"Well, I never was that great at personal interaction. Always had trouble letting people in."

"Don't I know it?" Sara mumbled. He raised his eyebrows at her in a touché' gesture and continued.

"Anyway, he said something very similar to what you just said, about still having things to learn from me. Said I keep him honest."

"He always was your favorite CSI"

"Second favorite." He murmured. She smiled, and they ate silently for a few minutes.

Looking up she asked, "Did you talk with Greg?"

"No, he was out on a case. I'll catch him tonight before I leave. You know I'll be going in early to make sure that everything is squared away?"

Smiling, she nodded. "Yeah. Make sure you tell him to get his own lawyer. The department probably offered to get him one but you know them, they'll throw him under the bus if they get the chance."

Steering the conversation into safer waters, away from the thought of tonight, she asked. "How's your soufflé?"

Smiling he said, "Delicious. You always were my star pupil."

"Yes, you've taught me everything I know."

"Not everything. I can think of a few things I had no idea about before you came into my life. Like what a lusty little wench you can be." He teased. Turning serious, he said, "And how to open my heart."

Sara felt tears in her eyes, and looked for a distraction. Seeing that his plate was clean, she said. "Looks like you're been a good boy and cleaned you plate. If you continue to be good, we can have dessert in the bedroom."

He dropped his napkin on his plate. "I'm too modest to say exactly how good I can be. I'll just let past experience speak for me."

Blushing, she stood up. "You get the glasses and the champagne, I'll get dessert and we'll meet in the bedroom. It took a few minutes for her to arrange dessert on the tray, and he was already in bed by the time she got there. He had disposed of his robe, and his chest gleamed in the candle light. She sat the tray down on the dresser, and turned to him. "You know I was thinking earlier, it may not be such a great idea to get into bed with my gown on." She said as she untied the sash of her robe. "What with satin on satin, we wouldn't want this to turn into a comedy."

He nodded in agreement. "I whole-heartedly agree. Actually had the same thought." he said, gesturing to the floor beside the bed. Looking down, she saw his boxers pooled against the carpet.

Smiling she whispered, "Always one step ahead of me."

"Not always. I just get lucky every now and then. Now about your gown, I think it should be removed forthwith, so as to minimize the chance of any accidental injury. Who knows what would happen if you get into bed with it on."

Slowly she slipped the robe off her shoulders. "No, we wouldn't want that." Sliding her fingers under the spaghetti straps, she pulled them down her arms. Smiling at his soft gasp as the satiny material slid over the tips of her breasts, down her belly, and finally pooled at her feet. He was silent for a moment, his eyes glued to the garter belt and stockings incasing her long legs.

Clearing his throat he asked, "So, what's for dessert?" His eyes slowly slid up her body, coming to rest on her warm brown eyes.

"I thought you'd never ask." Turning around, she removed the lid from the tray and turned back. In her hands was a tray with a plate piled high with strawberries, and two side dishes. One with warm chocolate sauce, and the other with whipped cream. Walking over to the bed, she sat the tray down at the end. He'd already poured the champagne. Climbing into the bed, she slid up next to him and sat back on her knees. Leaning over him, she picked up her glass from the bedside table, allowing her body to graze his chest as she shifted back to her sitting position. He groaned, and picked up the other glass. Clinking her glass with his, she said, "To us.", but instead of taking a sip, she poured some on his chest, watching as it ran in streams down his chest to his stomach, some of the liquid pooling in his navel. Leaning forward, she licked every glistening drop from his chest hair, and slurped the drink from its resting place in his navel. By the time she was done there wasn't a drop left. Smiling, she leaned back against the pillows. "Aren't you going to drink to my toast?"

"Well of course, it's the polite thing to do." Leaning over, he poured some of the bubbly over her breasts and throat. She watched as the chilled liquid pebbled her nipples. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he slowly laved his tongue over them, catching every drop. Trailing his tongue down to her bellybutton, he slurped at it like a man dying in the desert. As if nothing else could quench his thirst. He dipped his tongue in to reach every drop. Smiling he put his drink down, and bent to the end of the bed. Picking up a strawberry he contemplated the two toppings, and finally dredged it through the chocolate. Bringing it to her lips, letting several drops fall along the way. He fed her the strawberry and bent to lick the chocolate from her lips. When those were clean, he licked the drops that had fallen, starting at her feet. Sliding his hands up her legs until they rested at the top of the stockings, his thumbs running under the straps to the garter. Slipping up farther, he looped them under the sides of her minuscule panties, and pulled them down, throwing them across the room. "I think we'll leave the rest on for now." he rasped.

Moaning, she brought his lips to hers, and sucked at the traces of chocolate still clinging there. Pushing him down to lie against the pillows, she pulled the comforter down to the end of the bed, making sure to move the tray of goodies. She then stretched his hands above his head, and used a silk scarf she'd tied there to secure his hands. He lay there, completely trusting that whatever she had in mind he would enjoy. She trailed kisses from his dimpled chin, to his flat masculine nipples, taking her time. She ran her hands down his hips, avoiding his straining shaft, and continuing down his legs. They were hairy, but not overly so, and she loved to feel them rub against her when they were drifting off to sleep. Picking up the bowl of whipped cream and a strawberry, she contemplated where to start first. Smiling, she dipped the strawberry into the cream, then reached up and...

Beep...Beep...Beep... the sound of a car alarm brought Sara back to the present. Looking at her watch, she saw she'd been sitting here for twenty minutes. Sighing, she gathered her things and got out of the car. She wanted to make sure she caught him before he left.

Just before she'd fallen asleep, after hours of pleasure, she'd told him not to wake her before he left. She hadn't trusted herself not to try and sway him to post pone his flight. The nights coming up were going to be lonely. She'd grown accustomed to having him there, even if all they were doing was watching "The Amazing Race". The thought of that made her smile. No matter how similar they were, they always seemed to root for totally different teams. Slowly, her smile faded. He wouldn't be there in the morning to watch "The Soup", and laugh at all the silly things celebrities did.

After her shower, she'd found his clothes from yesterday, in the closet. She'd carefully folded his shirt and put it under the pillow of the freshly made bed, knowing what she'd be sleeping in for the foreseeable future.

Before she realized it she was in the locker room, and had yet to see him. She was afraid she might have missed him. Taking her jacket off, she thought of all the things she wished she'd said. So lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize he was there until he said, "Hey. My cab's here." Turning to him, her arms crossed, her mind went blank. All she could manage was "So, you're going."

Looking at her, he couldn't believe it himself. All he could answer was "Yeah."

She kept thinking, "Put on a brave face". Don't show him how much you're hurting. He needs this. Not knowing what to do, she said, "I'll see you when you get back", giving a little smile, hoping he didn't guess her pain. Turning back to her locker so that he couldn't see the tears gathering in her eyes, she reminded herself, "stay calm", "stay focused", while she busied herself getting her ID out and putting it on.

He watched her, trying to memorize every silky strand of her hair. The exact shade of her whiskey colored eyes. It's no use. He has to say something. It's so wrong that Nick can hug him in the middle of the lab, but he can't give the woman he loves the proper goodbye he so desperately wants to. He looked around to see if anyone was lurking nearby and stepped further into the locker room.

Hearing him step in, she worked up the nerve to look up, hugging her jacket to herself in a protective gesture. She heard him whisper three words, not the ones she wants to hear one more time, but considering where they are, close enough. "I'll miss you."

She smiled, hoping to let him know she's okay.

Afraid to say anymore out loud, he thought silently "I love you." Hoping she can read the message in his eyes.

Before he turns to go, she sees in his eyes the words she wants to here, and her thoughts echo his. "I love you too."

And than he was gone and her guard goes down with the realization that it's for real, he really is gone. She's left standing there in silence. Sniffling, holding back the tears.