Note: This is kind of a companion piece to my story "A Nightmareless Slumber." It's how I got the idea, anyway. Do you need to read that? No, silly rabbit. However, I would... because. Because I want you to. Yes this is a work in progress, but have no fear. I won't leave you hanging. I don't do evil things like that.

Chapter One: The Last Time

Things were looking rather bleak, she had to admit. She was trapped underneath a… car? Oh God. Yes, her lower body was trapped underneath a car, sufficiently restraining her to the desert floor.

At least it was muddy instead of dusty. She wasn't altogether sure why that was a good thing.

Letting out an obligatory moan, Sara gripped weakly at the muddy dirt beneath her fingers. Her mind was becoming clearer, but it seemed bittersweet because now she was becoming more and more aware of how much pain she was in.

She pulled her hand back and wiped the saturated strands of hair from her eyes. She lifted her head to look around the best she could. It was dark, wet, and she felt more than a little cold. More than a little alone. More than a little scared.

She pulled at the lower half of her body, though she knew it would prove useless. The pressure became more pronounced and she winced in pain. There was no way in hell that she could withdraw herself from this situation. No way. She would have to wait until they could find her. Did they even know she was missing? She had no clue how long she had been missing and Grissom probably assumed she was at home resting. Grissom. Oh, no. He would be so worried. He would remain level-headed though. He had to. He had to find her.

God, she loved him. So much. She thought about the last conversation they had and she couldn't help but smile. So, there was that.

- - -

"Remember why you came
And while you're alive
Experience the warmth before you grow old"

"The Warmth" (Incubus)

- - -

"Hey," she said softly, leaning on the door frame of his office. He looked up from his laptop and pulled his eyeglasses off. He looked over the field kit and jacket in her hands and his eyebrows rose.

"Hey." He smiled and used one of his softer, more intimate tones to add, "Where are you off to?"

She inhaled a deep breath. "I'm going home for a little while. Get something to eat. Change."

"Sleep?"

She grinned. He probably knew how hard it was for her to sleep without him. He had the same problem and had told her as such. "Doubt it."

After a moment, he said, "Come in here a minute." She pushed herself from the doorframe and he added, "Close the door."

She pursed her lips and gave him a crooked grin. "Uh oh. What did I do?"

His only response was to smile slightly and stand up from his chair. He walked over to her and the smile grew.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"I'm thinking about kissing you," he replied in a low, seductive tone, his face serious.

"You better not," warned Sara, but it was impossible to keep the grin from spreading on her face.

"Just one?" he asked while running a hand through the strands of hair by her face.

She sighed dramatically and shook her head. Usually when the miniature killer resurfaced, Grissom was a hard guy to deal with. He was irritable, he barely spoke to anyone, he didn't eat, and sleep was pretty much out of the question. But this time it was different. They were closing in on him and Grissom's spirits were lifting in light of new evidence.

He dipped his head down and his hand moved to her arm, stroking lightly as his lips brushed hers. He placed a slow, gentle kiss on her lips. He began to deepen the kiss and Sara laughed, pushing him back with her hand.

"Hey, cut it out. You're going to get me in trouble."

"I cleared it with your supervisor. It's fine," he replied in his best business tone.

She backed towards the door, shaking her head. "I'll see you in a few hours. And I'll bring you back something to eat."

He smiled and plopped back in his chair. "Thank you, honey." When she reached for the doorknob, he added, "Love you."

She smiled and raised an eyebrow. Turning her head back around, she found his eyes already glued to the laptop screen. That was a new one. He had never said that at work before. He only just started saying it regularly in the past few months.

"Love you too," she said and opened the door, not bothering to look back.

- - -

In hindsight, their last conversation had been rather foreboding. Completely out of the ordinary. If she had been superstitious she would have thought that at the time.

A kiss at work. An "I love you" at work. Terms of endearment at work (um. twice in one day).

They had been together for a few years and some change and Grissom had kissed Sara at work maybe three times. She had been just as shocked those times too. It didn't bother her that he wasn't affectionate at work. Quite the contrary. It had been an unspoken agreement, common sense really, that they wouldn't be affectionate at work. But he had served her a triple scoop of affection in the dark confines of his office. It was so ironic. He was the one to break the rules. Always.

At least her last words to him would be of love. Whoa! Last words? Where had that come from? Sure, those had been her last words to him but they wouldn't be her last words. She was not going to die. Was she?

No. Grissom would find her. No use in thinking like that. But it was too late. The seed had been planted and was being nurtured by the ever increasing pressure on her body and mind. Memories of their last moments together started flooding her thoughts. Last dinner, last movie, last time they made love, last time they went grocery shopping.

They had disputed about whether or not buying organic produce really mattered. He wasn't sure it did. She was.

Was this really it? Thoughts of "last times" did nothing but send her into despair when optimism was essential.

With another futile tug on her lower body, she decided that thinking about the last time she did, saw, or said anything would be a horrible idea and should be avoided at any cost. Since Grissom would inevitably monopolize her thoughts, she decided to think about their first times. All of them. Any time really. Any time but the last time.

To be continued…