Disclaimer: I'm a poor college student, so in no way am I affiliated with CSI, except to watch of course.

Summary: Just a version of what might have happened between Grissom and Sara in Gum Drops. Nothing but speculation and a bit of imagination.

In the motel room that night, Gil Grissom rolled onto his side feigning sleep by forcing his eyes to stay closed.

On the other bed, Greg Sanders slept undisturbed, unencumbered with thoughts, and snoring mildly in a steady pattern.

Wondering if it was near time to get up and go back to work, Grissom opened his eyes. He twisted his head to read the alarm clock on the small, wooden table between the beds.

10:32.

Grissom let out a breath and shifted onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling in disbelief that he had only been lying there for little more than an hour.

Having arrived at the crime scene the night before, Grissom and his team, which along with Greg, comprised of Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown and Sara Sidle, had worked tirelessly throughout the day gathering evidence. That is, until he received a call from Conrad Ecklie, the lab administrator, who had put an end to their progress about a couple hours earlier by withdrawing their overtime. So, the team split into three motel rooms: Nick and Warrick in one, himself and Greg in one, and Sara the sole occupant of the third due to lab policies dealing with overnight stays.

Grissom let out another deep breath and turned his head to look across to where Greg was sleeping. Grissom heard a particularly loud snore followed by the sounds of sheets rustling and then only the quiet, rhythmic snoring from before.

He lifted his head slightly of his pillow but was unable to get a better view of Greg and let his head fall heavily back to the pillow. He returned his gaze to the ceiling.

Sara Sidle awoke abruptly to the sound of soft thumping on her motel door. Sleepily, she brushed some of her dark brown hair off of her face and turned to the small, wooden table on which sat an alarm clock.

10:38.

Again, she heard the thumping and turned her attention to the door.

Pulling the covers away from the bed, she moved one leg then the other over the side of the bed, revealing her tank top and shorts which qualified as pajamas. She walked over to the door and stopped, peering through the peephole.

Confused, Sara opened her door to find Grissom standing there in loose-fitting pajama pants and a white t-shirt. The look in his eyes exposed something uncertain, the rest of his demeanor blatantly determined.

Sara stood just inside her room, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"Greg snores," Grissom said, as if this was a sufficient answer to her unasked questions.

Sara looked when he spoke, searching him for some other hidden reason, but unable to guess. Without hesitation, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter her room and there eyes locked.

Upon closing the door, Sara turned around to face Grissom. By this time, Grissom had walked over and sat at the foot of the bed closest to the door, the one Sara had been sleeping in. She watched him as he sat there, as he moved his elbows to rest on his knees, holding his head in his hands.

"Gris, you feeling okay?" she asked sympathetically, approaching him slowly.

He gave no reply but to continue as before, holding his head in his hands like some heavy weight.

She reached out to him, gently touching him on the shoulder. She felt him jump slightly, saw him glance first at her hand on his shoulder, and then finally daring to look into her eyes, trying to decipher the look of meaning he no doubt saw masked by those deep brown orbs.

Sara sat down slowly on the bed beside him, never removing her hand from his shoulder. She watched as he turned away, still holding his head in one hand, looking down at the floor.

"I feel," he began, "tired." He breathed out.

Sara looked at him for a moment, considering.

"I'm tired of this."

"This?"

"This." He mad a gesture with his hand that indicated he was talking about the two of them.

Sara took a deep breath. "Grissom, I—I…"

He held his hand up to stop her.

"It's not about anything you did, or said." At this point, Grissom stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of her, his breathing quickening. "I – or, you – I mean—"

Sara stood up in his path, causing him to pause abruptly.

"Breathe," she soothed; the trace of a smile playing on her lips.

She watched him inhale deeply and breathe out. When he looked up at her again, he made as if to speak but was cut off when Sara raised her hand to his mouth. He looked at her with such fear in his eyes.

Sara took a deep, unsteady breath and stepped away from him. With her back toward him, she turned her head slightly to one side to address him.

"Grissom, I'm done. It's – it's just too painful," she broke off. She spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper: "I don't want to hurt anymore."

"Neither do I."

He had spoken so softly, she spun around to face him, wondering if she had heard him correctly.

Their eyes met only briefly before he turned and resumed his earlier position on the end of the bed, holding his face in one hand.

"I – I just want you to know, I never meant to hurt you. I never mean to cause you any pain."

Sara came around the end of the bed, stopping in front of Grissom. Quietly, she knelt before him, looking up into his face while she gently removed his arm from its perch on his knee, forcing him to look into her face.

"I know," was all she said.

He lost himself in her eyes, mesmerized by them. Staring into them, the rest of the world dissolved. He felt his throat constrict. He swallowed.

"I'm old," he said softly. "I'm old and I'm alone. I feel alone, feel lonely."

Grissom felt pulled, drawing closer to her. He glanced at her lips feeling taunted, teased; he was tempted.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," he whispered.

Their lips met gently, barely touching and moved away slightly. Grissom closed his eyes. He could feel her warm breath tickle his lips, could smell her sweet scent. He licked his lips, the taste of her, the way she felt lingered.

Beautiful.

"I disagree," Sara said softly. Stunned, Grissom's eyes shot open, searching for her.

She smiled back at him gently, her eyes glittered. "You're not that old."

Grissom grinned and stood, pulling her up with him. They stood very close, their breathing relaxed, and they stared into each other's eyes.

He brought his right hand up to caress her face, smoothly, tenderly, resting his thumb on her lips. Eventually he glided his thumb across her cheek, slowly caressing. He watched her eyes close.

"Please, don't let this be the end."

"Promise."

As Sara leaned into him, Grissom tilted his head slightly capturing her lips in a slow, sensual movement.

Epilogue

Their breathing slowly returned to normal, Sara watching Grissom through the dark as he quietly drifted off to sleep, contented. And for a while more, she watched him sleep.

So alone, he had said.

She glanced around at the alarm clock.

1:00.

Sara smiled to herself, only one. She rested her head on his chest. As she drifted off to sleep, she whispered to him.

"You were never alone."