Soft music wafted through the air as Warrick's fingers glided deftly over the ivory keys of the baby grand piano. It was 3:10 am, and tried as he might, he just couldn't sleep. He had been tossing and turning in bed for a good 20 minutes before finally giving up and seeking solace in the piano. He figured it must be stress from working another high-profile case with Grissom, with Eckly breathing down their necks, no less. And playing music had always been one of his ways he's coped with stress or tension from work. So there he was, playing something soothing, while the rain outside beat against the windowpanes. He always did use to say that crime scene investigation might be his work, but that music was his passion.

So immersed was he in playing that he didn't hear the footsteps come up behind him. Suddenly, he felt her soft hands rest gently on his bare shoulders.

Warrick smiled, his eyes closed.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

He shook his head, his fingers still working the keys - not missing a beat.

"I couldn't get this melody out of my head," he told her. "I thought I'd play it a while, get it out of my system."

"It's beautiful," she said softly, stepping much closer to him until she was pressed against his back. She smoothed her hands across her shoulder blades and felt his muscles ripple in time to the movement of his arms.

"Aren't you cold," she asked, when she remembered it was raining quite hard outside. "Wait, I'll get you a shirt."

Warrick abruptly stopped playing.

"No," he said, looking up at her. "Stay. You can keep me warm."

Sara smiled and sat herself close next to him on the piano bench. Warrick resumed playing, letting the song fill the room once again. Sara leaned her head against his shoulder as her hand rubbed lazy circles on his back.

They sat like that for a few minutes, enjoying the music and the steady rhythm of the rain against glass, until Warrick felt Sara press her lips against his shoulder.

He hummed to himself, clearly enjoying the sensation. He felt her lips curve into a smile against his bare skin. She then craned her head forward and kissed a moist path from his shoulder to his neck, the arm that had been stroking his back now encircling his trim waist. It was around that point that Warrick started to lose his concentration. He only hoped she didn't notice that the song he was so expertly playing just a while ago was now starting to sound out of tune. But knowing Sara, he guessed that was exactly what she set out to accomplish.

"Come back to bed," she whispered against his ear, before placing more kisses along his jaw.

Just like that, and only because she asked him, Warrick stopped playing. He pulled down the cover over the piano keys and stood up, extending a hand to Sara - the melody in his head apparently already forgotten.

She smiled up at him, an amused glint in her eye, before taking his hand and allowing him to lead her back to their bedroom.

Warrick still loved to play the piano whenever he could, that was for sure. But certain things have changed over the years. Now, Warrick isn't so sure he'd still call music his passion. Because somehow, somewhere along the way, Sara had become that and so much more. She had become his everything.

THE END

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