Once upon a time.
Sara brought the razor half way up her leg before she realized what she was doing. Damn! Hairy legs were suppose to stop her from throwing herself all over Gil Grissom. The damage had already been done so she finished the task and threw in a bikini wax for good measure.
She answered the door as the doorbell rang and the smile on her lips died at the sight of him. He was the picture of apologetic as he explained; Vegas called him back early, some bug emergency.
Later she cried herself to sleep and didn't shave for a month.
If at first you don't succeed, try again.
Grissom held her hand as she cried. He'd wanted to know why, "It makes a difference to me", he'd said. So there it was, out in the open and she was a mess, but he was still there.
There was none of the pity she'd feared to see in his eyes. Their fingers stayed interlaced for a long time and he placed the occasional kiss on her knuckles.
He drew her a bath, convinced her she needed to rest.
By the time she was done, he'd left. "I will call you", the note said.
She stroked her freshly shaved legs as she went to bed and didn't shed any tears.
Third time is the charm.
It was a humid Sunday and Sara was a sweaty mess when Grissom showed up unannounced.
"I've been thinking-" is all he got out before she excused herself to freshen up. She grabbed the razor but hesitated before putting the blade to her leg, it hardly had been a good-luck charm.
She found Grissom circling her living room, mumbling to himself, to her. He spoke words of regrets, of promises, of wants and needs.
Not all of it made sense but soon his lips founds hers, kissing her senseless and suddenly she understood.
She was not going to bed alone that night, and she would start shaving regularly.