His subconscious told him he was being watched.
It also told him there was a body in his arms, pressed warmly and comfortably against his chest and torso.
Grissom opened his eyes, not completely surprised to find a pair of soft brown eyes gazing back at him.
"Good morning," he said softly, almost afraid to speak any louder than a whisper. "Or should I say, good afternoon?"
Sara didn't reply immediately, content as she was to just lay there staring into his blue eyes. She reached a hand up, her fingers tentatively caressing the graying curls at Grissom's temple.
A hint of trepidation and fear of rejection mirrored in her eyes as she eventually responded, "Doesn't really matter which, does it? So long as we both agree that it's good?"
A smile tugged at the corners of Grissom's mouth. He allowed his thumb to lightly trace the soft outline of Sara's bottom lip.
"It's good," he confirmed, his smile brightening his eyes a bit. He linked his fingers with hers, pressing a kiss to her palm.
Her apprehension immediately quelled, Sara matched his smile with one of her own.
"It's great," Grissom continued, moving his lips to the smooth underside of her wrist. "It's wonderful." He kissed the inner portion of her arm, where it bent at the elbow.
Sara fought the urge to laugh as Grissom's manly facial hair tickled her sensitive skin.
"It's fantastic," he finished, capturing her lips in a heavenly kiss.
Sara's bedside alarm clock began chiming at that most inopportune moment.
"And it's time to get up," Grissom added with a loathsome glare for the time-telling device, vexed at its noisy intrusion.
"Stupid clock," Sara grumbled half-heartedly.
Grissom reached across her shoulder to silence the offending contraption.
"I don't want to get up today," Sara mumbled, choosing instead to burrow back under the bed covers. "Maybe tomorrow."
"I don't want to get up either," Grissom answered, tugging the airy comforter away from Sara's face. "But I also don't want Catherine sending out a search party when we don't show up for work."
Sara wrinkled her nose at the mention of their domineering blonde colleague. "Yeah, me either." She rose from the bed, wrapping the topmost blanket firmly around her body. "Well...another day, another D.B.," she remarked sadly.
Grissom rolled onto his side under the remaining bed covers, silently watching Sara shuffle toward her bathroom.
At the doorway, she turned back to face him. "It never really ends, does it?" she asked rhetorically. "Crimes just recycle themselves. We unearth the endings...only to discover that we're right back at the beginning again."
With that, Sara continued on to the bathroom, leaving Grissom to ponder the bitter truth of her insightful statement.
