Author's Note - This one's been bouncing around in my head for a while, so I finally decided to do myself a favor and get it out of there and onto paper, so to speak. It's written as a one shot, but I have an idea for a story to go around it if you guys like it and I can make it work.

Thanks to Calypso for pushing me to publish and for the beta work.

Spoilers- Nothing specific, it takes place early season 6. It resembles the original spoilers for Gum Drops.

Disclaimer- I don't own CSI or its characters, unless owning DVDs and a T-shirts gives me some sort of say in the fate of the characters, which I doubt. Too bad.

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At first glance, it seemed as if Grissom was watching the television. He sat at the edge of his hotel room bed with his hands on his knees staring intently ahead. A television sat within his line of sight in a standard issue entertainment center, but the screen showed only black. This lack of visual stimulation didn't fit with the rapt attention which Grissom was paying to the wall. There was, however, audio stimulation seemingly coming from the wall. A radio played a woman's twangy voice, but careful listening exposed another woman singing along.

On the other side of the wall, Sara sang along to one of her favorite songs absentmindedly as she thumbed through the case files one last time before going to bed. She was completely unaware of the captive audience that she held on the other side of the wall. She sang without thinking about it, it was simply a way for her to decompress before she slept.

A small smile played at the corner of Grissom's mouth. As the song picked up its pace, he could hear Sara more clearly. Another noise coming from behind him caused him to turn his head towards the other wall. The wall he was looking at now separated his room from Greg's room. Greg apparently didn't need to decompress before sleeping, as he was already snoring loudly. Grissom smiled fully now. When he was honest with himself, he knew that he cared about the people on his team. Nick's recent close call had forced him to realize that under less than ideal circumstances.

Grissom sighed as he looked back at Sara's wall. Again, when he was honest with himself, he knew that Sara wasn't just another member of his team. Who was he kidding? Even when he was completely delusional and deceiving himself there was no denying that Sara made him feel almost human in his emotions. Her effect on him had been such that it had threatened to destroy his carefully constructed world founded on logic. He had no place for strong personal emotions in his life. He had often considered himself to be a kindred spirit to Sherlock Holmes who famously told Watson, "Love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment."

Grissom surely valued reason and logic and he knew that allowing emotions into his life would bias his views of the world. Still, he thought that he could flirt with Sara as he had with other women without upsetting his cool and rational existence, but he'd been wrong. Every moment he spent with Sara he could feel his reason slipping as his passion grew. Although he knew that Sara was his match, being confronted with such pure emotion frightened him in a way he could not bear.

He thought that denying his feelings and distancing himself from Sara would allow him to resume his emotionally aloof life. This new plan had failed even more miserably than the first. Watching Sara from afar as she flirted with Nick and Warrick and even Greg caused Grissom to be unceremoniously introduced to an even scarier emotion: jealousy. His jealousy had built into an unchecked and immature rage and vengefulness when Sara began dating Hank.

Jealousy, rage, and immaturity were even more unacceptable to Grissom than love so he decided that, although Sara upset his world, he didn't want a world without her in it. He had since put his energies into rebuilding a stable relationship with her. In doing so, he'd rediscovered what an amazing woman she was. He'd watched her grow as a CSI and face her own personal demons with strength, determination, and grace. He had been awestruck by how good and strong she was.

Grissom sighed as he realized that thinking of Sara was his new favorite past time. How pathetic was he to be staring at a wall as if it could be the object of his affection? He needed to figure out some way to restore balance in his delicate universe. Ever the scientist, Grissom looked at his experiences and came to a fairly simple conclusion. It was blaringly clear that this unique and beautiful woman stirred emotions in him no matter what he did about it. That's when it came to him, "Why not do something about it?"

He knew that he was probably too late in this simple conclusion. God, it was so simple. Why had it taken him so long? He suddenly felt that everyone had given him too much credit for intelligence when he had missed something so obvious right in front of him. Somehow he didn't care that Sara was probably long over him. He had to take a chance and tell her what he'd always felt. Even in the worst case scenario, if Sara rejected him he would be grieving instead of pining. Grieving was something he could do.

With sudden energy and passion, Gil Grissom stood and walked to the door, flexing and extending his fingers as he went. He took the four steps to place himself in front of Sara's door. Once in front of her door, Grissom took a deep breath and knocked three times. He heard as Sara stopped singing and the radio was turned off. After a few seconds, the door opened and she stood in the doorway wearing flannel pajama bottoms with smiley faces on them and a long sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, allowing Grissom to fully take in her sculpted face without distraction.

"Oh, Grissom, hey."

"Hey."

He was momentarily silenced by how she managed to look beautiful in her lounging clothes. The strange look on Sara's face reminded Grissom that he'd just knocked on her door and it was therefore up to him to give a reason for their meeting.

"It sounded like you were awake," he began slowly. At this, Sara blushed a little, realizing that he had heard her singing.

"And I couldn't sleep." He continued, nodding in the direction of Greg's room.

Sara smiled as she looked down the hall in the direction of noises that could probably only be classified by people who worked with rockets or race cars. She hadn't told Grissom, in order to avoid awkward questions, but she had known of Greg's nasal noisiness. He had a tendency to fall asleep on car rides longer than fifteen minutes and she had more than once been privileged to have front row seats to Greg's symphony of sound. She looked back at her visitor and saw that his face was very serious and her thoughts turned to the reason they were all in this sad excuse for a hotel with paper-thin walls.

"Did you want to go over the case?"

He winced a little as he realized that Sara could only fathom him talking to her in a professional way. Then again, he had made sure she felt that way, so it was up to him to remedy that.

"No, actually, I just wanted to talk. . ." he looked past her into her room and saw the case files on her table, "Can I come in?"

The request sounded awkward and strained, yet, sincere. It struck her as odd. What could he possibly want to talk about, aside from the case? He had no reason to be worried about her personal life right now. She knew that their relationship had become more friendly in the past year or so, so she decided to keep it playful. She couldn't resist the easy opportunity for flirtation so she put on her coy, yet seductive face and asked,

"Grissom, did you just proposition me? We haven't even been on a date."

Grissom's eyes opened wide and he took a breath as if to speak. He stopped short and pursed his lips, not sure how to respond. Sara felt bad for derailing him so swiftly, but she couldn't help but feel smug that she'd left him speechless. She wasn't sure what he wanted to talk about, but he didn't seem close to bringing it up right then. She couldn't stand the awkward silence and desperately wanted to avoid saying anything stupid in trying to fill it. It was probably best to end this conversation before it went south and sent Grissom back into his womb that Simon and Garfunkel would envy.

"Actually, I was just going to turn in. It was a long day and we need fresh eyes on the case tomorrow. If it's not about the case, I'm sure it can wait until later," she said as she started to close the door and turn into her room.

Her evasion shocked Grissom out of his cowardice-induced silence and into action. He stepped forward and placed his right hand on the door frame and his left hand on the door. Surprised, Sara turned back and was struck by the urgency on her supervisor's face. He met her gaze earnestly and she knew. Suddenly she just knew, as women so often do, why he was at her door acting like a man without a voice. He was going to try to finally tell her how he felt about her. From the looks of it, he wasn't going to say that they were destined to be friends and nothing more.

"Listen, Sara, I. . ." he felt his courage wane as he looked into her piercing brown eyes and saw that they were challenging him, rather than encouraging him.

She didn't want to watch him ping-pong back and forth, and, most certainly, she didn't want to be talked into doting on Grissom again. She'd appreciated his friendship lately and was fully aware that she would always be attracted to him, but she had put her heart on the line for him before, only to be disappointed. She was in a good place emotionally and didn't want to let him mess with that. She quickly made the decision to stop him in the interest of self-preservation.

"Grissom, don't."

"No, Sara, you're not cutting me off this time," he blurted as his heart won out over his head. He looked into her eyes again and the intensity of his gaze both excited and frightened her.

"I know I'm probably too late. I'm probably, definitely too late. Maybe I'm just being a selfish coward, but, Sara, I'm ready to do something about this. It's all I think about. I know I don't deserve you, God that's why this scares me so much. I just keep thinking that some day, you would realize how much more you deserve and you would move on and I could grieve and get on with my life. I used to think I would prefer that you make that realization before I ever knew what it was like to have you. I was wrong, Sara, dead wrong. I want to take a chance. I'm willing to risk everything to be with you, even if only for one moment."

He stopped to gather his thoughts, but his confession had taken his well-ordered mind and turned it into something unrecognizable. He couldn't find a single coherent thought in his giant brain. Instead, he stood there watching her, slightly out of breath from the fear and anticipation of the moment.

Sara wanted to tell him he was late, but not too late, but she couldn't. His eager words were sincere, but she knew Grissom, and she knew that this was a rare emotional moment for him. It was inevitable that his logic would take over again and his brain would overrule his heart, in the process discarding her heart. She wasn't willing to expose herself anymore. She had to convince him that she was serious, when all she wanted to do was fall into his arms. She took a deep breath to focus her thoughts and steadily returned his gaze. If she wanted to pull this off, she had to keep it succinct.

"You're right, Grissom, it's too late."

Her gaze was strong, but not strong enough. Even as the words left her mouth, she could feel his eyes penetrate through hers and see right into her mind. The thought of him seeing what she really felt frightened her and she dropped her gaze in order to avoid his all-knowing eyes.

Her words hit him like a wave of cold water and his heart fell. But there was something in her eyes that flashed for just an instant before she had looked down. Typically, the entomologist was not great at reading people, but somehow he knew that Sara's eyes were saying something different. He knew he wasn't really too late, that Sara didn't really want to walk away from him. He also knew that she was afraid to allow him entrance into her heart. He looked at her there in front of him, carefully examining his shoes, and saw her in a way he had never seen her before. She looked scared and vulnerable and Grissom knew he was partially responsible. He had done nothing to deserve her trust. However, at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to earn it.

They stood there in that posture for several interminable minutes: Sara reading the carpet and Grissom reading her intently. Sara fought the urge to look up, knowing that Grissom was still studying her. She opened her mouth to end the conversation and go back behind her emotional walls but was stopped short when she felt a soft pressure against her chin.

Grissom had seen Sara make the decision to end their tryst. He was half-tempted to let her do just that, as this was proving to be one of the most difficult things he had ever done. Perhaps that was because Sara Sidle was the only person he had ever known who made him feel nervous or self-conscious. Looking at her, he knew that dropping this was not an option. He had made his decision that he needed her, and he was never going to change his mind.

He stepped forward and moved his right hand from the door frame and placed his index finger on her chin. His tender touch electrified her into paralysis and she couldn't help but obey the gentle pull of his finger on her chin as he brought her head up to meet his gaze. She didn't want to look into his eyes and expose herself, but she found her eyes automatically seeking his, without the permission of her consciousness. When her eyes met his piercing blue ones, her heart started jumping in her chest and she couldn't breathe. In his eyes, she saw something she never thought she would see. Sara looked at Grissom and saw in the way he looked at her – complete adoration. No, not just adoration, but protectiveness and, and could it be, love?

She felt his finger trace along her jaw to the back of her neck, where he snaked all of his fingers beneath her hair, leaving his thumb on her cheek. He pulled slightly with his fingertips and she felt her head tilt to the left. Grissom slowly leaned in, tilting his head to the left. He gently stroked her cheek with his thumb as he moved his gaze to her lips. He wanted to move his left hand from the door and place it on the small of her back in order to draw her to him in a grand romantic gesture, like Clark Gable might do. Unfortunately, it was taking all of the courage and romance in his body to move in to kiss the beautiful woman before him.

Sara wanted to stop him, to protest before he kissed her and she lost herself to him forever. She instead found herself looking at his looming lips and then closing her eyes in preparation for a kiss. He closed the small gap between their lips and gently pressed his against hers. As soon as their lips touched, Grissom felt every sensation in his body for what seemed like the first time, and he knew. He knew that he could lose himself in her forever. He could never look back.

Sara was taken aback by the pure feeling in Grissom's kiss. For a man defined by logic and reasoning, Gil Grissom certainly kissed with great emotion. Sara lost herself in the kiss and quietly hoped that it would never end for fear that, when it ended, Grissom would regret it. And yet, deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, she felt in that kiss that Grissom would never regret this moment. Just as she was beginning to feel secure in their forbidden kiss, he pulled back and let out his breath.

He could taste her on his lips, and the smell of her shampoo swirled around in his head, making him dizzy with desire.

She was afraid to open her eyes and end the moment, but she felt Grissom's hand move from its position behind her neck and begin moving across her shoulder and down her left arm. She opened her eyes and saw a slight smile take over Grissom's whole face as he realized how he had surprised her. He looked down as his hand finished its descent down her arm and reached her hand. He absent-mindedly traced her fingers with his as he looked back up at her. His face had resumed its serious and intent conformation and Grissom spoke with a renewed sincerity.

"Sara, can I come in?"

Somehow, Sara knew that he wasn't propositioning her. She also knew that she wanted him to come in. She wanted to spend every moment with him. She didn't say anything, but stepped back to allow him entry into her room.