Dancing in the Dark by Chibiness87

Genre: Um.. angst/romance/fluff?
Pairing: GSR
Length:1422 words
Spoilers: 1.02, 8.07, 8.08
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: You can't start a fire without a spark.

A/N:Title and summary comes from the awesomeness that is Bruce Springsteen, and totally used without his permission… And the title probably has nothing to do with the fic, but m'eh. So I was sitting in Starbucks and um, this came out… Muchos thanks to butterfliedgsr for being my wonderful beta.

She had been gone for 4 months. He had counted. 92 days had passed since Judy had handed him the letter. The one that had managed something not even Natalie had done all those months ago when she had taken Sara; the letter had shattered him. He had read it so much it was ingrained in his brain along with obscure quotes from Shakespeare. 190 words (he'd counted them too) had made his heart cry out in anguish. He was certain others must have been able to hear it.

Catherine hadn't understood. Not really. He knew as soon as she asked him why he hadn't gone after her. If Sara wanted him with her, he wouldn't have been left in the lab with the taste of her kiss on his breath and her letter in his hand. He took as much comfort in Sara's brief contact as a dying man who had just been given the smallest lifeline. Her voice, chocked with tears, had been the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

Her contact had been sporadic over the last 4 months. He had her number but didn't call. It was her journey she was on. It wouldn't do for her to know how much he wasn't coping with her absence. He wanted her to do this so she would be there to come home to him. As soon as she was back, he would be whole again.

It had been the previous day that had hit him the hardest. Which was stupid, really. Neither of them had been all that big on Valentines Day before. But he had had a sudden sense of loss this year when he had woken to find the warm body sharing the bed was simply Hank. The dog had become almost as depressed as he had, but was not stipulated by emotional shields and had let his feelings known to all.

2 weeks after she had left him, he had caved and stopped pushing the boxer to the floor at 'night'. The added warmth had helped him get an hour more sleep, but ultimately his body was always aware his fairer half was not there.

He had worked last night. Valentines was always a busy shift. Scorned lovers, fights, break-ups, and there was always the cases where violence had broken out over a wrong gift, or a gift from the wrong person. The case he was working on was almost identical to one from 8 years previous.

A heart-broken jumper at the Monaco.

Supposedly.

As he waited for Nick to throw the 3 dummies from the roof, his mind flashed back to the day Sara had walked back into his life. The applauding crowd brought him back to the present. He never understood the fascination of watching people figure out puzzles. It was like watching someone complete a jigsaw puzzle from the sidelines.

As the last dummy landed at the base of the hotel, he walked to the first and took a photo.

"Norman Jumped," he whispered to himself.

A shot of the second, and his voice came again, "Norman Pushed."

He walked over to the last dummy, and voiced, "Norman Fell."

"Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs. Roper?"

Great. His mind was paying tricks on him. Her voice, low and husky, surfaced from his memories, filling in the words she had spoken to announce her arrival into his life once more. This time, he didn't turn around. She wasn't there. Grissom gave a sigh, but before he could do more, his cell phone began to ring.

Sara was displayed on the caller ID, and he felt his heart skip a beat. The scene, the job, Vegas, faded from his thoughts, becoming focused on the small piece of metal and plastic in his hand.

"Grissom."

"This is the part where you turn around," her voice said in stereo.

He wanted to. More than take his next breath he wanted to turn around. But his feet refused to obey. The cell in his hand gave a click as she hung up. Before his heart could give out at the loss of contact with her, her voice came again.

"Come on. You remember what's next. 'I don't even have to turn around…'" Her voice was there. Behind him. Light and teasing, as though the past eight years had never happened. And suddenly he was able to move. With almost slow precision, he turned his body, his feet following as an afterthought.

"Sara." His voice was a whisper and a prayer and a plea all at once. His heart gave an almost painful thud when she graced him with a smile.

An honest to god, jaw breaking, gap showing Sara Sidle smile.

"That's me."

And then she was there in his arms, and he felt his heart explode with happiness. He drew her close to his body, pulling her tight to him, her name his mantra.

Nick found them that way 5 minutes later, having come down from the roof.

"Hey Griss, how'd our guy die?" he asked, before realising his boss's attention was not on the scene. Probably had completely shut down, as he caught sight of what, rather who, he held in his arms. Before Nick could say anything, Grissom pulled back from the desperate embrace he had on the brunette before his lips fell on hers.

The kiss was hard and desperate, and if the way the two were clinging to each other was any indication, nowhere near enough, for either of them. When they paused to draw some much needed air into their lungs, Nick finally approached.

"Guys. Go. Take off. I'll finish the case," he told them, his own vision blurring at the sight of Sara; a happy glowing Sara at that. A small yelp from said brunette and the Texan suddenly found his arms of his boss's girlfriend and his pseudo sister.

"Sar-" his voice cracked. "God Darlin', are you a sight for sore eyes. But we'll catch up later. You go be with your man right now," he told her.

Sara gave a small smile before kissing him on the cheek. A movement behind him caught his attention, and Nick gave a startled gasp.

Sara gave a puzzled look at the Texan before turning to see what had caught his attention.

Grissom.

Pulling a chain from around his neck, it had been the twinkle given off as the sun hit the diamond that had caught the younger man's attention.

Sara's face beamed. There was no other word to describe it.

Reverently, Grissom approached Sara, taking her left hand in his while his right slid the band into place. Drawing her hand up to his lips, he laid a gentle, loving kiss on her hand, before looking up at her.

"Marry me." It wasn't a question, but she answered him anyway.

"Yes."

"Today."

"Ok."

By this time, the crowd had realised this was more than the case solving exercise of minutes ago, and had began to murmur. When Grissom had produced the ring, a startled gasp had been emitted. It was that that had made Brass turn his attention from the crowd to the three criminologists.

His brain suddenly caught up… three?!

He did a double take, but yes, there were three of them. He slowly approached, but his eyes caught the ring before he could speak. Grissom spotted him first.

"Jim. You free for the next hour?"

"Yeah…"

"You want to be my best man?"

"Ok…"

"Good."

Sara meanwhile had turned back to Nick. "Give me away, Nicky?" she asked in a small voice.

"You… are you sure?"

"You're the best brother I've had," she said in a whisper.

"Darlin', I would be honoured."

She smiled at him, before turning her attention to Grissom once more. What she was about to say was lost as she found herself wrapped tightly in the arms of Jim Brass.

She gave a startled squeak. "Jim. Air. Breathe!" she gasped out, pleased when the pressure lessened to allow her to draw breath.

An hour and a Justice of the Peace later, Gilbert and Sara Grissom shared their first kiss as a married couple.

Breaking apart, Sara lent into the embrace of her husband (and wasn't that a mind trip; Gil Grissom was her HUSBAND!) and said, "So. Tell me about your case."

Nick, standing just behind them, couldn't help but laugh at that. Off her questioning look, he explained, "Only you Sara. Only you."

Sara smiled in response. It was good to be home.

End.