Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: This started out as a plan to write smut. But the story told me otherwise. I hope you enjoy it. A very special thanks to LiT for helping with and putting up with me.

It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy; it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.

Jane Austen

Sense and Sensibility

With her heart in her throat and casual interest in her eyes, Sara rode with Greg to the warehouse. Nick had been missing for hours and they were no closer to finding him than they were in the first few minutes. But it wasn't because of Nick that Sara was clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking. It wasn't because of Nick her eyes and throat were burning with suppressed tears. Those honors belonged to Grissom.

Greg was silent. An unusual occurrence to be sure, but one Sara was thankful for. She wanted nothing to interfere with the words running through her brain. "Grissom is fine. Grissom is fine. Grissom is fine."

Of course, she wouldn't believe it until she saw him for herself.

She could see the smoke from miles away. And as they drew closer the acrid smell filled the car. The odor only served to reinforce her anxiety and she could feel her stomach churning with fear.

Greg made the turn into the parking lot and Sara began scanning the busy area for any sign of him. There were dozens of emergency vehicles in the lot; police and detective cars, fire trucks, crime scene vehicles, ambulances. Men and women were running around, each of them busy with their own tasks. Voices were barking orders, each straining to be heard over the cacophony. But Grissom was nowhere to be seen.

Sara, kit in hand, moved through the crowd. She ignored Greg calling her name and just kept moving. Grissom was there somewhere and she was determined to find him. And then she saw him, sitting in the back of an ambulance while a paramedic washed the blood off his face. He was dirty and he looked exhausted, but he was alive.

Suddenly, he looked up and saw her. He gave the barest shake of his head and Sara stopped, her kit thumping against her leg, her hair swinging in her eyes. Quickly, she glanced around to make sure no one had seen her misstep. Then with a dip of her head and a slight wave, she turned and entered the warehouse. Grissom was fine and things were status quo.

For several months Sara and Grissom had been spending more time together. Neither of them called it dating. The reluctance to use that word seemed ridiculous; especially after everything they had been through. But being with him, getting to know the man outside the lab, talking and laughing with him without prying eyes all around, only served to convince Sara she had been right all along. She was in love with him. Absolutely head over heels in love.

Right now, though, Nick was missing and she had a job to do.

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Nick didn't die in that hole. It wasn't his day. And, after working for close to thirty hours, the team had turned the scene over to day shift and gone home to sleep.

Exhaustion and fear and elation, in a toxic combination, kept Sara from thinking too much about Grissom being first man on the rope that saved Nick's life. It stopped her from considering how close he had been to death for the second time in twenty-four hours. The need for sleep overcame the fear and anger. So, after a quick shower, Sara slipped between the sheets and slept.

When she awoke it was Saturday evening. And for a moment, she forgot to remember about Nick. For a moment, she forgot to remember about Grissom and the fear. For a moment, she forgot to remember what it was like to think she would never see him or hear his voice again. Then it all came flooding back and with it came the tears.

Hot and hard. The sobs tore through Sara with vicious claws. She ached from the force of her weeping. Huddled in her bed, a pillow clutched to her chest, she let the horror of what might have been wash over her.

When her tears subsided, Sara was completely wrung out. She wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and hide from the world. But Nick was hurt and he deserved better from her. So, with heavy feet and a heavy heart, she took a shower, got dressed, and headed for the hospital.

It was late, almost too late for visitors, when Sara finally got to the hospital to check on Nick. The quiet rush of people moving around her coupled with the harsh bite of antiseptics and the base odors of the sick always made her want to be anywhere else. But this was Nick. So, with a forced grin on her face, she pushed open the door to his room and stopped in her tracks.

With all the confusion of the night before, it had been hard to see the extent of his injuries. But here, in the harsh fluorescent lighting, the truth was all too obvious. Nick's entire body was swollen. His hands were in mitts to limit his ability to scratch at the hundreds of angry pustules. He was sleeping, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath, and her shock went unseen.

"Oh, Nicky," she breathed. A trembling hand came up to cover her lips, and she drew in a shuddering breath before straightening her shoulders and entering the room.

For a long while, Sara simply sat and watched him sleep. She found herself mesmerized by the quiet beeps of the equipment in his room. And soon she was lost in thought, her mind continuing to play over the events for the last forty-eight hours.

"Hey, pretty girl." Nick's scratchy whisper drew her away from her thoughts.

"Hey, yourself." Sara stood and took his hand in hers. "How're you feeling?"

His lips twitched into what Sara thought was a smile. "Like the ants won."

Sara laughed, even as her eyes filled with tears. "So, where is everybody? I expected a full house."

"Mom and Dad went to get some sleep. Damn, these things itch." He rubbed ineffectually at his face with his mittened hands. "What time is it?"

She glanced at her watch. "Ten o'clock."

"So why are you here?" Nick paused for a moment and cleared his throat. "Why aren't you on a date or something?"

"We can't all have your social life." Sara fell silent, her eyes darting around the room. "Has…uh…was…"

"Grissom was here."

Sara blushed. Furiously. "I wasn't asking about Grissom."

"Yeah. You were." Nick squeezed her hand. In a voice thick with tears, he said, "Life is short, sweetie. Quit wasting it, and just tell him."

Sara bit her lip and gave a slight shake of her head. "I-… You're tired. I should…I should go.

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Sara was parked in front of her building. She had been sitting there for at least ten minutes, unable to get out of the car. Nick's words were running through her mind. Finally, with a quiet curse, she started the car again and backed out of the space.

Lights were glowing from the living room windows at Grissom's place when Sara pulled into the driveway. Before she could talk herself out of it, she was out of the car and knocking on his door.

Turning, she stared out at the quiet street. With her arms wrapped around her waist, she bounced on the balls of her feet. When the door opened, she jumped.

"Sara?" Grissom stood the in open doorway with a confused expression on his handsome face. His hair was mussed and he was wearing pajamas and a baggy t-shirt. To her, he had never looked better.

"Hi." She pasted on a big smile. "I know it's late. But I…I didn't get a chance to talk to you. After…well, you know. I just wanted to make sure you…"

"Sara." Grissom gave her an affectionate smile. "Come inside."

Blushing, she shook her head as she brushed past him. "Sorry."

With a quiet chuckle he closed the door. "Have you seen Nick?"

When he turned, Sara was standing in the middle of the living room, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Yeah. I just left there."

"Would you like to sit down?" He waved her in the direction of the couch.

Sara sank down on the firm leather cushions and tucked her hands beneath her thighs. She smiled stiffly at Grissom when he sat beside her. Too nervous to meet his gaze she looked around the room; a room she'd been in several times over the past few months.

She could feel him watching her, waiting for her to tell him why she was there. Sara drew a deep, shuddering breath and pushed a trembling hand through her hair.

"Gris, I need to tell you something." She kept her eyes locked on the television which was tuned to a western. "When I was talking to Nick, he said some things…things that made me think. And I…"

"Sara," Grissom interrupted her. He reached out and put a hand on her knee. "Please…"

With a quick, decisive shake of her head, Sara stood. "No. You don't get to make this decision." She walked a few steps away. "You've made all the decisions so far and your track record isn't so great."

She turned around, nailing him with her gaze. "You could've died today. Not once but twice." Sara choked back a sob. "Twice, Grissom."

Grissom pushed to his feet and moved to stand in front of her. His hands landed on her shoulders and he looked into her eyes. "I'm here, Sara. And I'm fine."

"Don't! Just don't." Her hands came up to settle on his wrists, holding him in place. The warm male scent of him filled her with a sense of security, a sense of calm. Her voice was stronger when she continued. "Nick told me…he told me that life is short." Tears shimmered in her eyes, trembling on her lashes and blurring her vision. "I love you. I know you don't feel the same way but I want you to know…"

Her words trailed off as he tugged her against him. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers found their way around his waist. And they held each other. Sara's tears soaked into his shirt while his lips brushed over her hair.

Finally, reluctantly, Grissom pulled back. Cradling her face in his hands, he brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "Oh, Sara. I wish I had the words to tell you how I feel about you."

She could see him struggling for the words. But the truth was written in his eyes, in the touch of his hands, in the way his body trembled against hers.

With a watery smile, Sara shook her head. Her eyes sparkled with the quiet joy that was washing over her. "It's okay. I know."

Slowly, Grissom lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft, gentle, almost chaste. Years of frustration and longing, anger and pain, began to fade away.

It was a Sunday. Just an ordinary day. A city teeming with life. And two hearts finding their way home.