Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. I really wish I did, but sadly it is a wish unfulfilled.

A/n: First this a fic to wish you all a Merry Christmas, but it is also in response to Cincoflex's challenge at YTDAW, to write about Grissom building a gingerbread house. I hope I did it justice. Please enjoy. No beta, all mistakes are mine.

Who Needs Gingerbread?

"How's that?" Grissom turned to look at the brown eyes watching him. "Yeah, it's a bit crooked isn't it?" He reached up and adjusted the red and white candy. "Do you think I should put one on the other side?" His answer was a nudge on the arm. "I know, I know, it only makes sense." Grissom added another candy cane on the other side of the door and backed away, surveying his work. "You don't think that roof might be a little heavy?" He reached up and adjusted a gumdrop so that it lined up with the others. "Maybe I should've used a lighter candy up there." Grissom stood and circled the table, taking in his work from all sides. "I just don't know. It just doesn't have the same…" He trailed off and sat down with a plop. "I don't think I have the same artistic touch as your mom." A soft whine assured him that he was correct. Grissom sighed and got up, heading for the fridge. "Maybe I just need a little break." He grabbed a beer, and headed back towards the table. His eyes fell on Hank, who was sitting in a chair with his paws on the table, his head resting on them. "Well I'm open to suggestions." Hank shifted his head, sniffing the bag of black licorice. "You think? Yeah, I could see that…" He was interrupted by the doorbell. His heart skipped a beat as it did every time there was someone at the door, or the phone rang. The hope that it would be her never failed him. He quickly calmed himself, put his beer down, and headed for the door.

"Hey Gil, can I come in?" Catherine didn't wait for an answer, sweeping right past him into the apartment. She stopped dead at the sight in front of her. "When did you get a dog?" She stared at Hank who had followed his master to the door.

Grissom cleared his throat. "We got him a little over a year ago." Grissom moved past her, leading her into the living room. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Well Gil, I don't think you should be alone. I know you're being made to take a couple of days off and you'll spend the whole time cooped up in the house. I want you to come over to my house tonight. We're having a little get together, nothing fancy, and I think it would be good for you to get out."

Grissom shook his head and headed into the dining room to pick up his beer. "I'm fine, really. Hank and I are keeping each other company, and Sara and I have this little tradition." He pointed with his beer to the table. "Every year we make a gingerbread house. Now, this one isn't as pretty as the other's, but…" He broke off and sighed. "Sara always makes them… I don't know, come alive somehow." He looked at the sad structure in front him and grunted. The house was lopsided, and the roof was drooping from the weight of the gumdrops. As he watched, the candy canes he'd placed around the door toppled over. "Um, I guess I should have used a little more icing on those." He turned to Catherine. "Well anyway, I want to do this so that when Sara comes home, I'll at least have a picture to entertain her with."

Catherine shook her head, studying him with concern, but she could see that she wouldn't be getting him out of the house tonight. She had to give it one more try though. "Are you sure you won't come? You haven't seen Lindsey in a while, she'd like to see her uncle Gil. And mom is making her famous punch. One glass and you'll be feeling no pain." She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. "C'mon, say yes."

Grissom was shaking his head before she finished talking. "Sorry Catherine, but all I want to do is stay home, have my beer, build my house, and wait for Sara to call."

"Oh, so she's going to call? Well, I didn't know that. Of course you'd want to be here for that." Catherine watched him, seeing his eyes shift to the side. "She did say she'd call, didn't she?" She watched as he shook his head. "Grissom! What if she doesn't call? You're just going to sit around here, alone and wait by the phone for a call that might never come?"

Grissom sighed. "Look, no, she didn't say she'd call, but if she does I'm damn well going to be here. And if she doesn't, then Hank and I will just finish this house and go to bed, same as every night. I love her Catherine, and when you love someone, you have to let them go. Now that sentiment might be… corny, but it's also true. If I didn't know that she also loved me, then I might be willing to go out and party, but I know she loves me as much as I love her, and there are things in her past that… that you don't know about. But I do know about them, and I understand what she's doing. So if I sit by the phone every second that I'm home, waiting for a call that might not come, then so be it." He finished and put his beer down, heading for the living room.

Catherine digested this, and then went after him. "I'm sorry Gil, of course you…" She stopped when the phone rang.

Grissom hesitated a moment, then answered it. "Grissom." He fell back on his standard greeting.

Catherine blinked back sudden tears as she watched the look that came over his face. His eyes twinkled, and his cheeks flushed like a kid waking up to all his dreams come true on Christmas morning. If a man had ever looked at her like that, well, she'd have handcuffed herself to him and never let him go. She backed out of the room, not wanting to intrude, but she did catch his first words, and her heart just about stopped. Who'd have ever thought it, Gil Grissom was totally, completely in love.

The moment Grissom heard her voice, he forgot Catherine even existed. "Hey Gil. How are you doing?"

"I'm good. They're making me take a couple of days off, something about staying fresh for the job. Hank and I are tying to make the gingerbread house, but it's not going too well." His stomach clinched at the sound of her laugh.

Finally she gained control, and cleared her throat. "What would you say if I said that maybe I could help with that?"

Grissom's legs felt weak, so he quickly sat down on the couch. "What do you mean?"

"Well I was thinking. It's Christmas, and I really miss you. If you don't have to work, and you felt like it, I did a little research and there's this little bed and breakfast in a small town called Bishop just this side of the California border. It's a four hour drive from Vegas, but if you wanted, we could meet there and spend a little time together."

Grissom didn't have to think twice. "How long will it take you to get there?"

Sara heaved a heavy sigh. "Actually, I'm already here. I was hoping you'd want to see me too."

"Oh, you don't know how much I want to see you. I'll be there in four hours or less." Sara chuckled.

"Well I don't want you to get into an accident. You take your time. I'll be here when you get here." She told him how to get there, and what room to go to, and then they said their goodbyes and rang off.

Grissom turned and only then realized that Catherine was still there. He walked into the kitchen and started talking before she could say anything. "Hey, sorry about that. That was Sara, and we uh… we're going to get together for a couple of days." She looked up from where she was petting Hank. This is when a thought occurred to him. What was he going to do with Hank? He watched as Hank licked Catherine's hand, and had an idea. "Hey Cath, Lindsey still likes dogs, right?"

Catherine nodded. "Yeah, she keeps asking for one, but I know there's no way she'd be the one taking care of it, and I just don't have the time." She looked up at him, and saw the look in his eyes. "Oh no!" She shook her head. "I'm not taking your dog."

Grissom smiled. "C'mon Cath, it'll only be for a couple of days, and Hank is really no trouble." As he talked he hurried down the hall. In the bedroom he took out his overnight case and began packing the essentials. Catherine had followed him, and she stopped in the doorway. She took in the room. It was a subtle mix of Grissom and Sara. The dusky color on the wall, and the vibrant print were Sara, but the heavy mahogany furniture was all Grissom. Focusing her mind , she turned back to him. "Grissom, I can't do this. It's not that I don't want to help, but this is impossible.

Grissom looked up from his packing. "What, exactly, WOULD make it possible?"

Grissom stretched as he climbed out of his SUV, and surveyed the view before him. The Inn was surrounded by tall oaks and though a lot of the bushes were bare of flowers, some flora did flourish around the patio. Grissom glanced at his watch as he opened the back of the SUV and took out his bag, and a box containing the half finished gingerbread house. He'd made the trip in a little over three hours, and he congratulated himself on making good time, and not getting pulled over. Following the directions that Sara had given him, he made his way around the main building to a bungalow in the back. The plaque on the door read, The Gold Room, so he knew he had the right place. He started to knock, but hesitated.
Sara paced back and forth in the room, glancing at the clock every few minutes. She had the TV on and every now and then she'd stop a watch of few seconds of the animated 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas', but then she'd start thinking that she'd be seeing Grissom again very soon, and she'd start pacing again.

Since she'd left they'd talked a few times on the phone, but the conversation always seemed stilted. So unlike the easy conversations that they used to share, that she was worried that they may never get back to that time. She wanted to blame Natalie for this. For instilling this need in her to close the past, but she knew that it had always been there. She'd just pushed it back, always ignoring that little voice that said that she would never be completely happy until she'd confronted those nasty little demons from her past.

Being with Gil had always felt right. The minute she'd walked into that conference nine years ago and seen the quiet entomologist sitting at the front of the conference hall she'd felt a tug, drawing her inexorably towards him. Of course things hadn't gone as she would have liked in those early days. She'd flirted and teased, and asked every question about anthropology she could think of, but he'd resisted all her subtle charms. They had become friends though, meeting up after each session and enjoying coffee, and some very interesting conversation. When the seminar was over they'd gone they're separate ways, though they had kept in touch via letters. Sara had tried to talk him into just e-mailing, but he had been adamant that letter writing was a dying art form, and as long as he was able, he'd communicate with the hand written word, rather than a simple missive typed up quickly before you rushed out of the door.

Then one day she'd gotten that call, the call that would change her life forever. She hadn't thought twice before putting in her notice and flying out to Vegas. Though the ensuing years had been filled with uncertainty, and sometimes downright hurt, she didn't regret a second of it. Okay, maybe that little episode with 'The Skunk, but he had seemed nice enough, and she had been doing all she could to put those feelings for Grissom behind her; after all, he'd seemed content with their work relationship. She'd remember the day she discovered just how wrong she had been until the day she died. It had been like Christmas and her best birthdays, all rolled into one. The moment his lips had touched hers, well she'd been lost. She'd been surprised to find that he was quite adventures in bed. Who was it that said it was always the quiet ones that were the hottest in bed? Well, maybe that's not how the saying went, but it fit Gilbert Grissom to a T. The stamina alone had been enough to overwhelm, but his adventuresome spirit had been a very welcome surprise. It hadn't even been two months and her body ached with the memory of his touch. She missed his solid presence behind her as she slept, and his hand wandering across her body, waking her bit by bit. She stilled, and dropped down onto the bed, her body trembling at the memories rushing through her. She had just about calmed herself when she was startled by a knock at the door. She checked her watch and was surprised that he'd made it this quickly. Standing, she walked slowly towards the door.

Grissom's heart pounded as he knocked on the door. He gripped the box tighter and told himself to relax, but the minute she swung open the door, he knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. A white hot bolt sizzled through him as he stared in to her dark eyes. He stepped forward, his eyes locked on hers, one thought running through his mind. 'MINE!'

She backed up as he advanced, and the door swung shut behind him. He dropped the bag and the box, not caring what happened to them. As soon as his hands were empty she gave a sigh and launched herself at him. Their lips met, their teeth nipping, their tongues joined in a feverish dance, their hands racing over each other. Grissom gripped her waist and pulled her to him. She speared her fingers into his hair and gripped his head. Soon their lips parted, but only to explore other tempting areas. She nibbled her way down his neck, biting into the taunt tendons where his shoulder and neck met. He reacted instinctively ripped open the blouse she was wearing, exposing her naked flesh. His head dipped, his lips fastening around her aching nipple. She growled and returned the favor with his shirt, raking her fingers though his chest hair, throwing her head back as he drew her nipple deeper into his mouth, then raking it over with his teeth. With each pull of his mouth she grew damper. She clutched him mumbling incoherently.

Not wanting him to be left out, she reached between their bodies and rubbed his aching length just the way he liked it. He growled and pulled her to him more tightly, returning his mouth to hers. For several moments their tongues delved in and out, swirling around the other as their hands were busy re-familiarizing themselves with the bodies they hadn't felt in weeks. Sara tore his belt open, and had his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and down on the floor in seconds. He returned the favor, making quick work of her jeans. Once she was freed of them, he gripped her around her thighs and lifted her, turning and bracing her against the door in one move. She gripped his shoulders and lowered herself down onto his pulsating shaft. They stilled, eyes locked, breath mingling. She grinned. "God I missed you."

Grissom chuckled. "Not as much as I missed you." He leaned forward, his lips caressing hers, his tongue flicking out, tracing the seam of her lips, which opened without hesitance. The kiss went on and on. She tightened her inner muscles around him, milking him. His breath hitched, and she lifted herself up gently, and slid back down. He groaned as she repeated the action. He gripped her hips and held her down, then pressing her firmly against the door; he began maneuvering in and out, his tempo increasing as he went. Watching her eyes, he saw them began to cloud over. She blinked, trying to stay focused, but her body had already begun to tighten. It started slow, tingles spreading up her legs, and along her arms, before a sudden volt of sheer heat exploded from her center, tossing her into space lost in time, where nothing existed but feeling. She heard him growl and felt the warmth of his release deep inside her. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. After a few moments, she released her legs from around his waist, and slid down, her body quivering as he slipped out of her. Smiling she led him over to the bed on weak knees.

They lay down, entwined as they should be, and slept. When they awoke, only a few minutes had passed. He smiled as he looked into her eyes. "So, did you see what good time I made?"

Her chuckle turned into a full out laugh, and it was a few moments before she'd calmed herself. When she had, she couldn't quite look him in the face, so she toyed with the hair on his chest. Her eyes had gone misty. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."

He grunted. "Oh there was never any doubt about that." He smiled when she slapped his chest.

"I meant I wasn't sure if you'd meet me." She said, finally meeting his eyes.

"There was never any doubt of that either." He pulled her closer. "As soon as I got off the phone with you I began packing. I even got Catherine to watch Hank for me."

"Catherine is watching Hank? Exactly what did that cost you?" She snuggled up to him.

Grissom sighed. "I have to take the next four decomps that come in AND she wants me to talk to this boy that Lindsey's been seeing."

Sara chuckled. "And what good is that going to do?" She shifted to prop her head on her hand, looking down at him.

"I don't know. Something about bringing over Aramis and Athos, and telling him that they are the tamest of the bunch." He traced a finger along her collarbone. "I didn't really care what she wanted. I just wanted to see you."

She smiled at that. "So, how is Hank?"

He shook his head. "Like me, he misses you. He was trying to help me build our annual gingerbread house, but we weren't doing a great job of it."

Sara laughed. "So you said."

"Well, I wanted to keep things as normal as possible… for Hank. We just don't have the same mastery of building a beautiful house out of candy that you do." His gaze shifted to the box that lay crumpled on the floor. "I brought it with me, but I don't think it fared too well."

Sara looked over at the box. "Well let's see." She groaned and slipped off the bed, padding over to the box. She bent over and opened it, turning her head to look at him when he cleared his throat.

"If you expect me to care about that damn gingerbread house, you shouldn't bend over like that." She smiled and stood up with the box in her hands. She took it over to the table and looked inside.

"Well the house didn't make it." She lifted up a piece of gingerbread that had once been part of the wall. But don't worry. I think we can salvage some of this." She lifted out the tube of icing and a bag of candies, and turned to him. Holding the items in front of her she asked. "So, what do you think you can make with this?" She tossed the items to on the bed and began to walk back.

He smiled, getting her drift. "With you as my canvas, I can make a masterpiece."

She giggled and jumped onto the bed. "Well let's get cracking, this gingerbread girl feels naked."

He smiled and pulled her to him, pressed his lips to hers and whispered. "As you wish my dear, who needs gingerbread?"

The End