Title: Just a Look

Author: Spike Speigel

Rating: PG-13

Classification: Grissom/Sara

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me. Just taking them for a joyride.

Spoilers: Takes place after Way to Go.

Summary: Grissom's curiosity gets him more than he bargained for. Thanks to Anais for the beta.

Status: Finished.

"That's it. Any questions?"

Greg was about to open his mouth to ask Grissom a question that did not pertain to the assignments Grissom only just handed out. However, Grissom knowing his team, and Greg in particular, all too well, squashed the notion before it came to fruition.

"And, no, Greg. I don't know why Oprah's putting out a diet book. It seems rather obtuse on her part."

He could see Greg's smirk fall off his face, turning into a lopsided frown as he spoke. "Damn. That's just freaky, Grissom. Other than the obtuse crack, that was my question verbatim."

This time Grissom smirked, somewhat pleased that he ascertained Greg's retort. He chalked it up to coincidence, because anything more would indeed be 'freaky'. "What can I say, Greg? You're becoming rather…what's the word I'm looking for?"

Nick, Warrick, Catherine and Sara chimed in with their guesses.

"Pedantic?"

"Banal?"

"Superfluous?"

"Hackneyed?"

Grissom snapped his fingers at Sara before turning to Warrick. "I like the use of 'banal', Warrick, but 'hackneyed' works a lot better in this case." His gaze turned toward Greg, the smirk widening every second. "Wouldn't you agree, Greg?"

"Whatever." Greg pushed his chair away from the table with an exaggerated sigh before turning his attention back to Grissom. "I am the definition of the word capricious. How else would you explain this jacket with these slacks?"

Catherine just couldn't believe the gift that had been placed in her lap. Nevertheless, she ran with it. "Colorblindness?"

"Et tu, Catherine?" Et tu?" The others at the table followed Greg's lead as they rose to their feet, chuckles strewn about the room's occupants. Nick clapped Greg on the shoulder, grabbing him at the same time as he began to walk out of the conference room.

"C'mon, Ozzy. There's a body out there with our name on it."

Warrick shook his head moving into step with Catherine as they followed Nick and Greg out of the room. Sara smirked at Grissom before gathering up the papers scattered in front of her into a manila folder. However, before she got a chance to finish, Grissom's voice filled the room.

"Why do you do that?"

She didn't look up as she responded, continuing to gather her papers. "Do what?"

She could feel Grissom standing next to her, her body now familiar with his proximity. "Every once in a while when you look at me, you do…that thing with your lips."

Sara didn't mean to chuckle, but hearing Grissom at a loss for words was a rarity for her. "'That thing', huh? Care to extrapolate?"

Now she was looking at him, and she could see the effect she was having on him as he struggled for the words. "Uh, well. It's like…" He looked positively endearing when he acted like this. She couldn't help but smile at him. "That! Right there."

Sara stepped back slightly, somewhat startled by Grissom's excitement. "What?"

"Just now, you did it again. It's like you're about to pucker your lips but then it morphs into a subtle smile. Like you decided against it. And it's only with me. I've been paying attention."

"You've been paying attention? What? You've been watching me with other people, watching how my lips respond to them?" Grissom's lackadaisical shrug was all the answer she was going to get from him. "Okay, Doctor Grissom. Now that you've brought it to my attention, what do you think it means?"

"Well, I'm not really sure. That's why I'm asking you. I mean, we haven't been…you know…"

"The word you're looking for is 'intimate'."

"Yeah. That thing." Sara rolled her eyes, Grissom ignoring the gesture completely as he continued. "But since we've been together, I've started to notice little mannerisms that I never noticed before."

"Like my almost pucker?"

"Yes. And since you seem to only do it when you're looking at me, I was hoping you could enlighten me."

God, could he really be this thickheaded? Judging on the questioning glance he was throwing her way, Sara had to concede that he really was. She was going to have to draw him a picture. Possibly with pastel crayons.

"Do you really want to know what it means?"

"Yes, Sara. I really want to know what it means."

"This is killing you, isn't it?"

His answer was blunt. "You have no idea."

Sara chuckled softly, moving her hand under the table to gently grasp his, out of view of everyone in the nearby vicinity of the conference room. "Well, you've probably noticed that I smile a lot more since we've been together. Yes?" Grissom nodded, focusing part of his attention to Sara, the other reserved to the ministrations of Sara's thumb against the inside of his palm. "Well, a lot of that is because of you. I've had dreams wherein we're a so-called couple, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would ever happen. And now that it has, I can't help but smile. Especially when I look at you."

"Sara…"

She didn't allow him to interrupt him. She was on a roll and she didn't want to lose her train of thought now. "As for the lip thing, it's just an extension of how I feel when I look at you."

"An extension?"

"That's right."

She could see the cogs turning frantically in his head, still unsure as to what it all meant. "What do you mean when you say 'extension' exactly?"

She was right. Forget the pastel crayons. This was going to take day-glo markers. Permanent day-glo markers.

"I mean that whenever I do that, I'm thinking about pushing you down against the nearest desk and having my way with you, damn the consequences. That clear enough?"

Grissom swallowed. Hard. "Uh, yeah. Yes. I…really? That's what you're thinking?"

Sara responded with a failed pucker of the lips that morphed into a smile. "What can I say? I really, really like the way you make me feel. Both mentally and physically."

This time, Grissom chuckled softly, his fingers finding their way between hers under the table. "And here I am thinking I was the only one that had thoughts like that."

"Really?" Sara's voice dropped to a hushed whisper as she leaned closer toward him. "You have impure thoughts about me as well? You've got a hell of a poker face. Because I thought I was the only one that felt that way outside the bedroom."

"Well, I did become well-versed in its many intricacies during my collegiate years."

"I believe it."

A shared silence between the two as they gazed at each other. After a moment, Grissom spoke.

"Sara, the maintenance elevator's out of order, yes?"

Her look was one of curiosity, wondering how the conversation had moved from her innermost thoughts about him to a broken elevator that was rarely used in the first place. "Um, yeah. Why do you ask?"

He smirked at her, a tinge of mischievousness evident in his voice. "Because I'm having impure thoughts."

The meaning of his words was not lost on Sara. "You're not serious? You're serious?"

"Meet me in ten minutes and I'll show you just how serious I am."

Sara rolled her eyes once more, this time being noticed by Grissom. "The girls all said I was crazy for falling in love with an entomologist."

"Indeed. You could have had a wanna-be punk rocker instead if you played your cards right."

Sara smirked at Grissom, the pucker more evident than ever. "Ten minutes. Show me that I made the right choice."

Grissom threw a quick glance at Sara before reluctantly pulling away from her grasp. "I'll show you that you made the right choice, even if it takes me every day for the rest of my life. What do you say about that?"

Sara blushed as they walked out of the conference room, her gaze never wavering from his.

"I'd say that's a good start."

Fin