TITLE: Miracles in Three Times

AUTHOR: dthelittlecat

PAIRING: GSR

I do not own CSI. This is the last of a trilogy that I never expected to write. You should probably read 'Half Sorry' and 'Blessed' first. Thank you to all of the lovlies that made me feel squishy with you reviewy goodness. This is for y'all, love to you.

Rapture (rap-cher): The state of being carried away with deep emotion, esp. joy or love.

That sounded about right. Grissom spent much of his first night back on graveyard trying to figure out the sound of two worlds colliding.

At one point, it sounded a lot like Catherine.

"Gil, seriously, you need to tell me what happened. You've been back for two weeks, I gave you back your job, for crying out loud, I should get a window seat on the detail train!"

Grissom looked up from the dictionary, pushing up the glasses that had slid down his nose. "Good evening to you to Catherine."

"Can it. What's happening with Sara? She's been back for almost a week!"

"You know, your way with words, it's poetry, really."

"Gil…."

"A window seat on the detail train?"

"Quit trying to distract me. You're still in the station, aren't you?"

"Wow. I think this metaphor has out-lived its usefulness. For your information, we are taking things slowly."

"Turtles take things slowly."

Gil sighed, removing his glasses and placing them on the desk. "We are having dinner tomorrow night. We're going to see what happens."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Well, I hear restaurants are nice."

"Gil, don't be an idiot. You know this is your last shot."

He cringed. Leave it to the Goddess of Blunt. "I know."

"How did you even manage to get this far? Have you even kissed her yet?"

This is not happening.

"Catherine. Please. I'm nervous enough."

"You're serious."

"I love her."

Catherine observed her best friend. He was actually a shade paler than he had been. She stood.

"Gil. You can make each other happy. Please, whatever happens tomorrow night, just make sure that you trust that."

As she left his office, closing the door behind her, Grissom sat in awe at the first Catherine pep talk in history that had actually worked.

Sara entered the locker room, the trembling in her body and the adrenaline that accompanied it a companion she had grown used to since her return to the lab. Dear god. He wanted to marry her. The thought alone was enough to make her cry, make her chest feel like it would expand outwards enough to encompass the state of Nevada.

"Sara?"

She jumped about eight feet, spun, and came fact to face with Greg.

"Are you okay?"

She wanted to scream. She was better than she had ever been, with a gunshot to her back that was still raw and hair that was still wet and the heart of the man she had loved for years was hers to break or comfort, she was exhausted and nervous and orgasmic and….

"I'm a basket case Greggo. He can't kiss me. He can't seem to do that. The reason he can't do that is because he wants to marry me, and we can't seem to meet in the middle. No middle ground for us, no sir, it's all or nothing and I'm totally scaring the hell out of you right now aren't I?"

"Yep. Sit down." She did. Greg couldn't hide his grin, his relief that the two broken human beings that he loved and respected were finally, thank God, trying to repair themselves.

"Sara, what do you want?"

Sara looked at her friend and was struck. When had he become the most mature person she knew? When did the spiky-haired, crazy-shirt wearing lab rat become this assured, calm man before her? She took in his patience, his care, and realized that this was probably the first person in her life who had asked her that and completely cared about the answer. And she realized she, for the first time, had an answer.

"I want to be normal."

Greg smiled, reached out and grasped her hand. "Then do it."

She smiled.

He was so nervous by the time the next evening rolled around, he nearly set his townhouse on fire. Lighting candles for the dinner he had prepared – it's nicer, it means more- he was a stumbling, bumbling, wreck of a man.

To top it all off, she was here.

Grissom made his way to the door, opening it to reveal Sara. And it was just Sara, as 'just' as she could ever really be to him. She was a little wrinkled, and still in her work clothes, and looked a little tired, and was perfect.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I almost burnt the house down."

Sara burst out laughing, and the tension snapped like a twig. He ushered her into his home, and sat her down at the breakfast bar while he began to stir a thick sauce on the stove. "My mom sent me this recipie. It's the best veggie pasta sauce in the world."

"That's quite a recommendation."

"See for yourself." He held out the spoon to her, then took it back quickly, blew on the sauce, and extended it to her again.

The man just blew on my pasta sauce.

She leaned forward, meeting his eyes. It was unbelievable, sweet at first then a bit spicy. She grinned.

"She wasn't joking. That's amazing." The spoon was held between them like an olive branch. Grissom cleared his throat, and turned back to the stove as Sara tried to get the kite her stomach had become under control. This is stupid. Fortune favours the bold.

When he turned around again, Sara stood in front of him. He swallowed audibly. How had they gotten here?

"This is stupid."

"I know. I was just thinking that."

"I love you."

"I know that too."

"I want to kiss you."

"I want you to kiss me."

"Sara…."

"I'll say yes."

You could have heard a pin drop if not for the sauce simmering on his stove. He cupped her face in his hands, and remembered having held butterfly specimens with less trepidation, less awe then he felt at that moment. She looked up at him, her brown eyes like glass, a thin layer of tears held in check by lashes that went for miles.

"I……"

"I will. Ask."

"Marry me."

"Yes."

He closed his eyes. He was making a deal with whatever powers were out there that though he belonged to the woman before him in this life, whatever they needed him for in the hereafter was fair game.

He kissed her.

Miraculous.