A/N: This is my very late post Way To Go fic…While I've been assuming Griss and Sara were in relationship this past season, I've spent many a night trying to figure out when it began—I ended up realizing that it wasn't the when that mattered, just the moment. I hope you enjoy.

Thanks again to Elle for being such a great beta through many drafts!

Rated M for Smut

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, Grissom, Sara, Catherine or Nicky.

Between

"Surprise…You're dead." Sara stood in front of the bathroom mirror, steam still feathering its edges, as Grissom's voice drifted in from the bedroom. Listening to him was about so much more than just hearing the words he was saying; time had taught her to read between the lines. "I'd prefer to know in advance that I was gonna die…"

When she heard him sigh and mention Moby Dick, she put down her hair brush, and turned the corner into the bedroom. Her eyes found his almost immediately, and she understood he was doing so much more than contemplating his own mortality; he was making a promise to her. "…at least have time to say goodbye to the people I love."

She knelt at the edge of the bed, sliding her hands across the smooth surface to meet his. "I'm not ready to say goodbye." Her voice was soft and sure. He loved the certainty that he heard as she spoke. He'd kept her at an arm's length for so long; he was still amazed at the strength of her faith in him.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "Come here." Grissom said, rolling onto his back. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she slid across the bed, and into his arms. This was his Sara; the one he'd discovered hidden beneath the woman he thought he knew.

Burying his head in the curve of her neck, he inhaled deeply and whispered. "You smell good." The lingering heat from her shower mixed with the nutty scent of the lotion on her skin drove him to distraction; it left him wanting and utterly at her mercy.

"Really…" Sara said lazily, sensing her advantage as she unbuttoned his shirt; she slipped her hand inside, allowing it to wander freely across the warmth of his chest. He looked up at her, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Shouldn't you be getting dressed for dinner?" He fingered the thin silk of her robe between his thumb and forefinger. "Not that I'm complaining about this."

"Hmm..." Sara sighed softly, as she felt his hand slide around to the back of her neck. Suddenly, getting dressed for dinner was the last thing on her mind. "What I want isn't on the menu at any restaurant." Her hands moved down to finish unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it aside so she could lay kisses across his chest.

He rolled her onto her back and she closed her eyes, moaning softly as his mouth found hers. Loving Sara was a whole new way of life for him; a life that had almost slipped through his fingers. He kissed her as if he had all the time in the world, wondering how, in a life outlined by crime scene tape, Sara had ended up in his arms.

He was sitting at his desk behind a mountain of paperwork, when a flash of pale blue caught his eye. He looked up and saw Sara disappearing down the hall. Lately she'd been stopping by at the end of shift to inquire about a case or bring him breakfast if he was too busy to leave. It had been so simple to rediscover the easy familiarity that he thought was lost, that it took a moment for him to identify the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as disappointment. Without a second thought, he kicked his chair away from the desk and headed for the door.

"Whoa Boss!" Nick grabbed the door frame to keep from losing his balance as Grissom nearly knocked him over. "Where's the fire?"

Grissom looked up, surprised to find Nicky in his path. "There's somewhere I have to be." He answered, "Hey, throw me that jacket." He pointed to the coat rack in the corner, and Nick crossed the room to grab the jacket and toss it to Grissom.

"Thanks." His mind was already full of Sara, and he turned and left without another word. It had been a long couple of weeks for both of them, and he knew Sara was looking for a little escape from the heavy weight of her case load.

There was only one place she could be; under the stars. Once, a long time ago she'd told him they were the only constant in her youth; no matter where she went, they followed. So, when she occasionally disappeared for a few hours, it didn't take all of his investigative skills to figure out where she'd gone.

Sara was already outside by the time he'd made it to the back of the building. In the dim light of the waning moon, she was almost invisible behind the lone tree in the empty field behind the lab, but he could see the tiniest sliver of pale skin. He thought if he could keep her in his sight, she wasn't really alone out there. He wasn't sure exactly when it stopped being about Sara's loneliness and more about his own.

The sharp sound of high heels on cement echoed behind him and he knew Catherine was fast approaching. "Gil!" Her voice echoed down the length of the hall. "What are you doing over here? Brass is waiting for us. It's a good thing Nicky saw you head this way."

He sighed, watching her approach knowing he had no explanation for what he was doing; at least not one that he was willing to share. It was a sure bet Catherine would see right through him. "I'm sorry Catherine."

She pinned him with a glare, "What are you do—" She stopped mid sentence when it became clear that whatever he was doing had Sara written all over it. "You know, one of these days you're going to run out of chances."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. "Save it." She touched him on the arm. "I'm not the one you need to be talking to."

He listened as her footsteps faded, the door slammed and he was alone again. He felt like a fool; wasted years stretching out behind him. He could think of a hundred reasons to go back to his office and bury himself in work, but only one reason to open the door.

Sara felt his presence before she ever saw him. "Usually you just watch from the window." Her voice was soft and low. The very sound of it resonated so deeply inside of him; he almost took her into his arms right then.

Grissom glanced over his shoulder, toward the lab, "I didn't think you could see me." Twigs snapped under his feet as he approached her. He unfolded his jacket and put it around her shoulders, the night was cool and she was only wearing a thin tank top.

A small laugh escaped her lips. "I always see you. Even when you don't want me to." There was a slight pause as she slipped her arms into the jacket, "Don't you know that by now?"

"There are a lot of things I don't know." His eyes found hers in the dark, startled by the nakedness he saw there. He'd witnessed her fierceness, felt her pain, been rendered speechless by her beauty, and seen her compassion, but nothing prepared him for her vulnerability. He suddenly realized how blind he had been to miss the unconditional love in her eyes; all he wanted to do was lay down his doubt and call her home.

"What are you doing out here?" She wasn't really surprised to see him standing beside her, for all her trying, she had never really managed to give up on him; it would have been easier to give up breathing.

"Seeing if it works." He answered.

She accepted that with a nod of her head, allowing silence to fall over them. Eventually he sat down beside her, and when he took her hand in his, it was like a revelation; with a simple touch, he told her everything had changed. She turned to look at him, when their eyes met, her heart skipped a beat. "It's about time." She said softly.

He brought a hand up to brush the hair away from her face. "There are things…" He knew he owed her some honesty after all she had given him, but he had no idea where or how to start.

"I just want something real." She said softly, her hand touched his cheek and she ran her thumb over his bottom lip. "Show me something real."

He kissed her then, with his hands tracing the shape of her face. "I can't do this any more." His voice was rough and trembling, as his hands slid under the hem of her shirt in search of warm skin.

"Do what?" She sucked in a breath as his beard grazed her cheek; she almost wondered why they had taken the long road to this moment, but thinking about anything except his mouth on her skin was next to impossible.

"Pretend that I don't love you." He knew this was no secret to her, but saying it felled the last doubt in his mind that Sara belonged anywhere but in his arms.


He tugged at the pale pink sash, Sara's robe slipped from her body like water, and his hands washed across her bare skin as he sought to touch every inch of her. Moments like this always seemed a little unreal to him; he had spent so many years stumbling around in the dark and now there was all this light. Sometimes, he would forget to open his eyes. It was her hands that brought him back whenever he drifted away; she drew them across his face, her thumb grazing his cheek. "Griss." She said quietly, pushing his shirt off of his arms.

Her eyes were dark and smoky when he looked up at her, and a smile touched her lips. She watched as he tugged his shirt the rest of the way off to toss it on the floor, his khaki pants quickly followed. He crawled back on the bed and covered her body with his. When his skin touched hers she released a breath that she didn't even realize she was holding; the feeling of his skin on hers healed her like no words ever could.

He slipped a thigh between hers and she rocked against him, her hands pushing against his shoulders. She moaned softly. He pressed his mouth to hers; she kissed him hungrily, her tongue tangling with his, drawing him deeper into her embrace.

He caught her eyes with his and devoured the honesty he found there. She shifted away from him for a moment, slipping a hand between them. He lost his breath as she arched against him, and he was inside of her. He cried out; Sara's body was practically vibrating under his hands as they moved together. The synergy of their bodies was something he never expected to find, but Sara's touch freed him from what he thought he was supposed to be, and in her hands he had nothing to hide.

She came with his name on her lips, and he quickly followed, collapsing on the bed beside her. He pulled her into his arms, listening to the sound of her breathing as he brushed the hair from her face.

Her hand drifted over his chest and down his arm, and she curled her fingers with his. "You," she said huskily, "you are all I ever wanted."

He watched her eyes drift close, as her head rested on his shoulder. He couldn't help but smile as he closed his own eyes; goodbye was the furthest thing from his mind. He was too busy thinking about tomorrow.