Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: I think we all need a hug right now. Consider this mine;) Thank you for taking the time to let me give it to you.

Just a Little Bit Longer

by Kristen Elizabeth

Her kisses left something to be desired—the rest of her.

- Unknown

With her backpack slung over her shoulder, Sara took one last look around the loft. She was just about to slide her sunglasses on when something bumped her thigh. Frowning, she glanced down and saw the saddest boxer in the world looking up at her.

"Hank." She sighed. "Please don't look at me like that. I have to go."

Hank's only answer was to press his side against her legs as if he could keep her there just by blocking her path.

Powerless against the love of the dog she and Grissom had picked out from the animal shelter together, Sara let the backpack slide off her shoulder and her overnight back land on the floor as she crouched down to pat his head.

"I'm sorry, boy," she murmured. Hank rested his chin on her knee. "I would stay if I could. I wish you could understand…"

The sound of a key sliding into the front door lock had Hank's ears perking up and Sara's heart leaping into her throat. When the door began to open, the dog took off running to greet Grissom.

Sara, however, remained frozen in place.

"Hey, boy." Grissom greeted the dog with a friendly scratch behind his ears. "Do you need to go…" Lifting his eyes as he came further into the house, Grissom caught sight of Sara…and the luggage on the floor next to her. "…out?" he quietly finished.

"Gil." Sara slowly stood up. "I was going to stop by the lab to say goodbye."

Grissom closed the door behind him and hung his keys on the hook next to it. With Hank on his heels, he started down the steps, passing Sara without a word on his way into the kitchen.

It was only after he'd pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and taken a long sip that he finally looked at her. "Is this how it's going to be from now on? You drop in for a few days when someone dies or gets married…have a little fun between the sheets…and then leave as soon as you can?"

Sara stepped back, like she'd been slapped. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

"Why bother responding when you can just walk away?"

She narrowed her eyes before tears could spring up. "I thought you wanted me to walk away. Needed me to leave."

Grissom set his bottle down on the kitchen island with more force than necessary. "Sara, you're too smart to play dumb. It's beneath you." He whistled for Hank who came to him with his tail tucked between his legs. "I'm taking Hank out to pee. If you have to go, then go. Call me when you get wherever it is you're going."

"I took him out a little while ago." Sara walked to the steps, stopping at the landing. "Why are you being like this? I already told you I can't stay."

He shook his head. "Hope springs eternal." A moment passed. "Is there anything I could say that would make you not walk out that door?"

Sara slowly descended the short flight of stairs. "Tell me…if I stayed, I'd never have to see another murdered child or comatose rape victim ever again."

"Leaving the job and leaving town are two very different things, Sara."

She approached the island, stopping on the other side from him. "I'd still see them in your eyes. They'd always be there." She swallowed. "Ghosts, Gil. I can't live with anymore ghosts."

Grissom glanced away. "Maybe it's not the ghosts. Maybe it's just me."

"Now who's playing dumb?"

When he looked back at her, his eyes were cold as glass. "Do you want a summary of my life when you're gone, Sara? I get up. I take Hank to the sitter. I go to work. I pick Hank up. I come home. I go to sleep. And every day, I think to myself…maybe today will be the day she comes home." He paused. "I had to lose someone I loved before that happened."

"Gil, do you really think my life is much better? There are nights that I cry myself to sleep because you're not lying next to me." She pressed a hand to her chest. "And I don't have anyone to blame for that but myself, I know. Still…" Sara's chin trembled. "Please don't think you're the only one suffering."

Running a hand down his beard, Grissom looked up at the ceiling. "What am I supposed to do? Do you want me to beg you to stay?"

"I would never ask you to beg for anything."

"I might do it." Lowering his chin, Grissom locked stares with her. "I don't know what I'd do for you, Sara. And that scares the hell out of me."

Sara reached across the island to touch his hand. "Gil…"

He jerked it away. "Go if you have to. I obviously can't stop you." Turning his back on her, he added, "Can I?"

She stood at the island for a few seconds, waiting for him do something, anything. When it became clear that he wasn't going to turn around until she was gone, Sara blinked back the beginnings of a tear and headed for the stairs.

Grissom reached her just after she'd taken the first step. He grabbed her hand from behind and jerked on it until she turned around. Standing over him, Sara looked down at his anguished expression.

"Can I?" he asked her, his voice no louder than a whisper. "Can I, Sara?"

She had so missed the scratchy feel of his beard on her palms as she held his face lovingly between her hands. Her gaze moved back and forth between his bottomless blue eyes. "Stop me." It was both a question and a request.

He stepped up, putting them on the same level as his lips found hers. Nothing ever seemed to matter when he was kissing her. Worlds could end, but Grissom was loving her without words and all she could do was love him back.

The kiss grew deeper, harder. Grissom grabbed her with unfamiliar hands, greedy and driven, not only by the need to feel her, but the need to keep her close. If she walked away with bruises, she wouldn't be at all surprised.

The bedroom was too far away; the couch on the upper level would have to do. It wouldn't be the first time they'd gotten carried away in the living room. But those times had been playful and tender, full of laughter and love.

This was different. Desperation fueled them as they hastily stripped off just the essential items of clothing and tumbled onto the leather cushions. She expected him to slam into her without finesse, but Grissom was still Grissom. Unable to hurt her, he held back long enough to make sure she was ready for him.

"Damnit, Sara," he groaned when he was fully seated inside of her. "Why does it have to be like this?" He gripped the edge of the cushion beneath her head hard enough to leave marks on the leather with his nails. "Perfect," he said between his teeth. "Every time…like the first time."

Sara closed her eyes, savoring each thrust of his hips. Perfect didn't begin to describe the feeling of being joined with Grissom. But as wonderful as it felt, and as close as it brought them together, it wasn't going to be enough to keep her in Vegas.

Grissom seemed to realize this from the way he looked down at her. He was memorizing her face, she realized when she opened her eyes and caught sight of him. When she'd left before, neither of them had realized that the last time they made love would be the last time for a long time. Now, knowing the lonely nights that were ahead, they were both frantic to make a memory that would last.

Until they met again.

Sara gently grasped his arms, marveling, as always, at the muscles he hid from the world. "Gil." His name came out on a gasp as he swiveled his hips just right. She blinked to focus. "Are you going to hate me?"

His breathing was heavy as he shook his head. "Never, Sara." Their chests touched as he lowered his lips until they were barely brushing hers. "But…the next time you come home…it needs to be for good." He kissed her, their tongues finding the same rhythm as their bodies. "Yes?"

Even if she hadn't been on the brink of release, she would have nodded. "Yes. Yes…yes…Gil!" Pleasure struck her like a hot wave, washing over her whole body, leaving her quivering beneath the only man she'd ever loved. As he jerked within her, his own ecstasy hitting him hard and fast, Sara wrapped her arms around his beloved body. He was sweaty and sated and all she wanted to do was hold him forever.

But half an hour later, her hair wet from a quick shower, Sara found herself back in the living room with her backpack over her shoulder and her overnight bag in her hand.

Now in his bathrobe, Grissom was feeding Hank. Upon her entrance, he stopped spooning food into the dog's bowl and stood still, watching her.

"I'll call you when my plane lands," she promised.

He lowered his chin. "I want you to know…I'm not sorry you came. I couldn't have gotten through…" Grissom shook his head. "I needed you."

Sara swallowed back a lump in her throat. "Past tense?"

Grissom looked up. "Present tense, honey." He smiled sadly. "Future tense."

Pressing the tips of her fingers to her lips, Sara blew him a parting kiss. It wasn't until she was safely on the other side of the door that she stopped fighting her tears.

Fin