This was not the greatest move on his part. He had many different options, yet what he had chosen was definitely not the right one. For someone who always spends a fair amount of time analyzing all methods and turns, he made a lot of stupid mistakes.

It was a pity that he spent so much time trying to figure things out, for it had proven useless. This was not what he had concluded but it was what he did. Now if only he could face it.

Gil Grissom's biggest fear was opening his eyes, he did not want to see the product of his actions but eventually pretending to be asleep wore thin. He cracked open his right eye first. With it, he scanned the room, and when there was no sign of her, he allowed the rest of his body to awaken. Sadly, waking up meant having the pervious night's wine and nightcaps pain arise. It hit him instantly and hard, but the nausea was nothing compared to the striking strain of her voice.

"Gil? Good Morning." He looked up at Sophia's half-naked body – his stare was blank.

"… Or not. Are you ill?" He nodded in agreement. The shake of his head stirred his stomach. He promised himself that he would hold it down until he was at the comfort/privacy of his own toilet.

"Here," she handed to him, almost robotically, a glass of cool water and what appeared to be Midol. He accepted, his thank you was spoken via a smile. They took the pills almost in sync. He glanced over his water glass at the woman that sat at the edge of the bed. She wore his dress shirt and that only. Her blonde tresses pulled back into a rough low ponytail; the hair boxed her face and without a doubt proved how pallid her skin was. She too felt last night in her blood system.

"… Is it that you are sick that you are not saying anything? You know, if I speak I'll puke?" She smiled nervously. Honestly, she had half expected this morning to pan out the way it had so far. Her other half imagined it to be much worse, with his silence she concluded that there was a chance that Gil did not regret their night.

"I'll get you the waste basket."

---

Sophia only told one person. Of course, she did not lie to herself, she told Hodges so that everyone would eventually eat up the gossip. Her plan would work perfectly for if approached she would only have to say that see saw Hodges as her confidant. That is why she told that one specific individual how she spent her Thanksgiving.

She had felt mild remorse when she over heard Archie telling Sara Sidle about how her mentor spent his holiday "He ate turkey and he ate Sophia. He enjoyed stuffing and he enjoyed stuffing Sophia… Bobby's words not mine."

Sidle responded with a gentle, no, more like a weak "oh."

Sophia did feel mildly bad, but mildly was not enough to make a New Year's Resolution about it. For all she knew the pain came from the way Archie and Bobby spoke of her. That was probably it for she could care less about Sara Sidle. Her Thanksgiving was fucking perfect.

---

It had surprised Grissom when Catherine asked him if he would be spending Christmas with Sophia too. He had expected that Sophia would keep the affair private when she told him "not to worry Gil." He miss read it as a sign that the entire mess would blow over.

After considering the possible ways of answering Catherine's invasive questioning he said as casually as possible "I plan to work the Christmas shifts since some of my criminalists have deserving daughters."

His answer did not work on Cath as he had planned it would, she continued to pry. Luckily, like any fanatic of punctuality his pager gave three loud quick beeps. The moment of awkward dodging was put on hold due to a new case. The DB, to which Grissom was grateful for, he promised to put its case to justice.

Another thing that was always around at the most opportune time was Sara Sidle. The thought came to him when he exited his office to find her standing before him, field kit and car keys ready. He immediately felt guilty for considering her a 'thing' but it was a victimless crime; just as long as he saw her as a blessing and not an object.

His blessing was relatively quite in the car. As they drove to their new crime scene she passed down the vague details she gotten from Capitan Brass. There were no personal conversations, and for this, again, Gil was thankful.

They worked together so uniformly, very aware of one another and still use to their perfectly matched routine. It was a relief, it even felt almost Zen. That peacefulness did not numb the strain of crouching though, luckily, Sara ripped apart the crime scene with an acute ability to see every inch of the scene, and it allowed Grissom to relax. Energy evaded him, like a sixth sense Sara saw this and insisted that she would continue. He joined Brass with interviews thinking that she had correctly read his fatigue. He was, again, appreciative…

It seemed that hours of processing a scene was Sara's way of resting. She was much livelier on the ride back to the lab.

"I'm really confident about this case. It's a douse. We got it, don't we?" He nodded ready to tell her that she was being far too optimistic, they had only collected, nothing was processed, and she was ahead of not only the evidence but also the case itself. Yet the smile, that had not made an appearance on their way to the scene, was too brilliant to be beaten down.

"We collected a lot of incriminating evidence and are building a strong case. We might be on the right track." Speech died but the smile lived vibrantly on Sara's face, he did not even have to look at her to see it, he felt it was present.

"This is pleasant." She stated breaking the silence that had not lasted more than a minute. The car was passing the strip and slowing down for a red light Grissom parted his eyes from the road. He had imagined Sara to be taking in the bold lights of Vegas, but no, she was concentrated on him.

"… I'm referring to working together. Not the drunken tourists, or the energy consuming lights, or the most world's beautiful monuments mocked up as casinos." She won over one of those lovely honest smiles, of that she was proud for it had been awhile.

"You can be a joy when you are not on a rampage."

Her husky throaty voice retorted with a small giggle. "I am always on the rampage. It's just not against you. Today it is against the asshole how killed Joey Liwosk… umm our DB."

"Wow," he chuckled, it was nice to hear his own laugh, "that was worse than Brass's interpretation. I'll write you out a pronunciation key later."

"Thank you Doctor." Their laughs together were what made the night Zen.

That was pleasant Grissom thought as he dropped his subordinate off at her car. "I'll log the evidence in now. It'll be up and rolling by the time your next shift starts."

"I won't be able to fall asleep," she was still slightly arguing his decision to send her home.

"Day shift won't have the time to process our stuff right now. You wouldn't get much done anyways." He reasoned as he held the door open to her Denali.

"Alright, alright." She had already given in by buckling into her seat belt but, from the drive to now, she could not seem to stop talking.

"You really love your job, don't you?" She nodded still with that smile. "Dead people seem light you up, don't they?"

"No, you do… Good morning Grissom. Have a good sleep… And don't start anything without me." The ignition of her car gave a frightening scream. As if, she read his mind "not to worry it still gets me around fine."

He closed her door after he whispered to be careful, that was all he could say when really there was so much more. He had one more second to decide if he would say any numbers of things to her. At that second as she put her Denali into first he tapped on the glass.

"Yes Doctor?" Her eyes played, bouncing around in the wonder he held her in.

"Umm… I just… you light me up too." His voice came out strong but not bold, just as he wanted it to. Never did he want her to think it was challenge for him to be grateful. After all that is what he really was. Grateful.

---

He did as promised and only logged the evidence, never once did he let the habit of the job allow him to take away the excitement that Sara sat awake at home for. Being that it was his only task he was going home quite early, which was already two hours later than everyone else.

He thought maybe because he was thinking about Sara that she was not actually at his front steps, sitting on his steps using her field kit as a pillow, with her eyes twitching in a dream. It was something his mind would create, a vision of Sara vulnerable and powerless needing Gilbert Grissom and seeking out his help.

Yet this was not a figment of his imagination, she was actually sleeping… SHIVERING! ON HIS DOOR STEP! He ran to her sorry that he wasted so much time staring and not acting.

"Oh My God! Sara! Are you alright? Sara! Wake up! What happened? Are you alright? Sara dear! Wake up." He shook her violently suddenly feeling the worst of all pains. He had seen that she was breathing when he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but now he could not be certain until she woke up. He noticed that her eyes were wide open and scared. Her magnificent brown eyes looked up into his aware but frightened. His hands were crushing into her shoulders to insure that she would never leave his possession.

"Sara… Are you alright?" His voice was calm now, but not gentle. It was urgent in the need to know that she had not been damaged. Before she could answer, he pulled her into himself.

She would have pulled away a lot sooner if he had let her. The situation was not as bad as she had let on. Not that she meant to, somehow she had just fallen asleep waiting for him. And now she had made it seem that the most grotesque things had happened when really she had looked her apartment keys in her car and with no other resolve had taken a cab to his home. She gave into his hold and let herself be victimized. His touch was too much to pull away from, to top that off he was not letting her go.

Finally, she had to say something. "Grissom I'm fine. Nothing is the matter. I was just a little forgetful. I'm sorry I scared you."

With that said he let go but did invite her in. This was a personal first.

---

"My couch is not good for sleeping. Trust me Sara I don't mind if you sleep in my bed." Of course, she stubbornly put his comfort before hers. She silently took the comforter from his hands and laid it across what Grissom always thought of as the worst couch ever created. Yet she insisted and if Sara insisted, there was no way around it. He tucked her in, and with all the nerves he had in his body, he reached over her to land a small kiss on her forehead.

"Don't scare me like that… I'm an old man, you have to watch my heart." Her body was shutting down on her. She damned it, this was an amazing night and she could not keep her self-awake for it.

"I would never want to jeopardize your heart. I promise to take care of it whenever it needs babysitting." She spoke lightly and almost incoherently, her eyes were closed and her mind was no longer fully conscience. Gil was reminded of the gentleness that lived inside her the first time they met. The gentleness lost it self with each new dead body but gained itself on moments like these. He had a couple of them logged in his memory; this would join in as one of his favorites.

"Sweet dreams dear." Again, he musked out the ability to kiss her face. His lips landed softly and briefly on her lips. She was long gone in rest, the kiss was something just for him.

It was the second time during this morning that Sara Sidle had appeared to him as a figment and then magically came to life. When she finished explaining about her keys he realized that he had made a fool of himself. He had thought to soon. This time he did not make that assumption.

"Are you leaving?" he asked when he felt her enter his bedroom. She did not respond. She lifted his covers and shifted her body onto the empty portion of the bed.

"No." she said flatly. "Do you mind? The couch is dreadful… But don't leave." She told still in the state of sleep. "That couch will do no good to an old guy like you."

Gil listened to her plea and spent the night trying not to touch her. But she did not make that easy for him. She let her body find his arms, so he held her much like he had outside.