A/N: So technically this is kind of AU because it's not canon. It's been in my head for a while now-what if Sara and Grissom had more than that one week to get to know each other and build on their feelings before she came to Vegas? What if there was more than one week of chemistry and tension and frustration, what if they shared more than just conversation?

The good news is, I've already finished the story and will be posting every couple of days. It's about 12 chapters long. As always I appreciate all comments, praise and concrit. Also as always, huge thanks to my beta Vanessa, AKA GSFanatic, who is the most patient person ever.

Thanks for reading!

Paris, February 2010

The snow was coming down pretty hard now; the only thing Sara could see from the window was a cascading sheet of white. She hadn't seen so much snow since Boston, and those days were so far behind her now, they were like a dream. While her days at Harvard consisted of mostly happy memories, her most memorable time in Boston wasn't at Harvard. It was years after she graduated, and it was spent with Gil Grissom.

As if he was drawn to her subconscious thoughts, Grissom came up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her. She smiled and locked fingers with his, enjoying the comfort of his warmth.

"What are you thinking about?" He whispered in her ear.

"I'm thinking about how much I do not want to go back to Vegas tomorrow," she said, which wasn't exactly the truth, but it was, in fact, true. "Tell me why I'm doing that again?"

"Honestly, I'm sure there are reasons but I can't seem to think of any right now," Grissom said. Sara smiled, and let the moment continue without stating the reasons why. That was the difference between their current relationship and their relationship of the past-a few years ago, one of them would have to be logical and point out exactly the reasons why. Now they just let the moments happen, and worried about the consequences later.

There were actually quite a few reasons, and they both knew the list by heart. Sara could make more money back home than in Paris, for one. Grissom interviewing subjects for his book on serial killers was another reason. No matter how much therapy and rationalizing and deep breathing techniques she tried, Sara was still not comfortable with the subject. Two and a half years had passed since the Miniature Killer incident had occurred, but that didn't make it any less raw; any less fresh in her mind. She supported her husband's book and knew he'd write something fascinating and brilliant, but that didn't mean she wanted to be present for it.

But the biggest reason Sara frequently commuted back to Las Vegas was because they weren't sure what else to do. At some point during their stay in Costa Rica, it was decided that it was absolutely necessary they get married. Olivia, one of Sara's old friends from Harvard (and the reason why Sara decided to go to Costa Rica in the first place) was an ordained minister, and 2 hours after Grissom proposed, they were married. The only problem was, they weren't sure how that whole marriage thing was supposed to work. They tried being apart for a long time, that didn't work. They tried the working together/living together routine; that didn't work either. Both of them acknowledged that it may take some getting used to, but they were both committed to seeing it through. So Sara would continue to trek back to the States while Grissom stayed behind in his world of academia. It was working...so far. But they still missed each other when she was gone.

"It's getting heavy out there," Grissom said. "I'm glad we're stuck in here." Sara glanced outside again, and indeed the snow was coming down in heavy sheets of white, making Paris look even more like a fantasy than before, if that was possible.

"Yes, I'm glad we don't have any plans tonight," Sara said. She looked at the roaring fire in the fireplace, the comfortable dog on the sofa, and the beautiful man in front of her. There was absolutely nowhere else she'd rather be. Again, it reminded her of another time in their lives when she had a similar feeling.

"You know what I think about when I see this snow?" She asked, deciding to let him in on her thoughts. Sara wasn't sure why she was hesitant to tell him. Maybe it was because she was feeling sentimental, which Grissom wasn't exactly known to embrace.

"I have a feeling that I do know," Grissom said, a sly grin forming on his face. "But tell me about it anyway."

"You know," she said.

"Boston, 1999," they said together, and shared a chuckle.

"Well, I'm glad you remember," she said. "Because it is one of my fondest memories."

"How could I forget?" He said, looking nostalgic. He held her tighter against him, and she gave into the memories.