Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: No snow day today, but the responses was so immediate and overwhelming that it inspired me to hurry up and post again.

To my lovely readers and reviewers: Enjoy! :)

He rose out of his chair, pulling mine out for me as I stood, and his hand found the small of my back. It was the first time he had overtly touched me since picking me up and my whole body reacted to it—goose bumps down my arms, butterflies in my stomach, a warm, swooping feeling through my chest. I leaned closer, without even thinking about it, and he slid his arm around my waist to hold me close to him. He was warm, and solid, and distinctly masculine. I breathed in the scent of his cologne deeply, letting it fill me up.

He guided me out of the restaurant and when I shivered as the cool air of the evening hit me, he moved his arm my shoulders instead, instantly filling me with warmth.

"I… I was going to suggest a walk on the beach… but if you're cold…"

"No!" I said immediately, wanting very much to walk on the beach with him. "It was just the contrast from the restaurant… I'm getting used to it."

He looked down at me skeptically, and then smiled softly, pulling me over to his rental car, unlocking it, and pulling out a gray suit jacket from the back seat. He'd obviously intended to wear it tonight and changed his mind at the last minute… which made me smile, considering how many times I'd changed clothes. He wrapped it over my shoulders and took my hand instead, giving it a gentle squeeze when I smiled at him.

"Better?"

I hunched my shoulders to bring the collar of the jacket closer to my face, breathing in the scent of him in the fabric. "Much…"

He grinned. "Good." He tugged my hand gently and guided me down past the cement and the tourists to the beach and the paused, guiding me to sit on the steps which had led us down here. I narrowed my eyes in the question, but he didn't answer… he simply crouched before me, taking my legs on at a time and sliding his palm from the underside of my knees down to my ankles to slip off the heels I would have been stumbling in if I'd tried to walk across the sand.

I tried to restrain myself—hold back my reactions—because it was a first date with a man whom I had told needed to earn my trust back, and if I'd let myself go, my eyes would have been rolling back in my head. His fingers were smooth, his palm soft, the pad on his thumb just slightly calloused, and they made the gesture all the more intimate as they slid over my calves with a reverence I knew and yet did not.

I was breathless when he offered me a hand and helped to me stand again. He kept my hand pressed against his, reminding me constantly of his caress, and led me down to the water's edge. There was a bonfire and some rather loud teenagers sitting around it to the left, so he took me to the right, squeezing my hand again.

"I, uh… I know you said that… that we should just start fresh but… Sara, I… I want you to know how sorry I am and… how… grateful I am that… that you would give me a second chance."

I smiled, but I could feel it on my face and I knew it betrayed some amount of sadness too. I squeezed his hand. "I know, Gil… I do. I… I think that… you leaving… Once I realized the way our relationship had been, I… I knew you'd only done it because…" I hesitate—it's been six years and the words don't feel fluid anymore. They stick in my throat.

He finishes my sentence for me. "Because I loved you."

I draw in a deep breath, letting my eyes close for just a moment. Because I'm not ready to hear him tell me that he loves me, and I'm eternally grateful that he'd used the past tense, and desperately seeking a subject change now. It was just… too soon. I nodded, slowly, and let my face and body indicate that I was thinking… transitioning into a new conversation.

"How long are you in town for?"

I felt like maybe this should have been a more pressing question, but it hadn't been. We'd come together again after six years with the realization that very little had changed in our feelings for each other—if time couldn't pose a significant barrier, distance seemed trivial. Still, it was worth asking.

He inhaled at my question, giving himself a minute. "It was supposed to be a week but, well, I've already been here four days. But, ah… I was thinking about using some of the vacation time I've stored up. …If… if that's not too presumptuous?"

I smiled and leaned into him again, prompting him to move his arm back around my waist. "It's a little presumptuous, but… I would really like to… spend some time with you… see where this goes." He gave me a surprised smile and our walk slowed, our eyes meeting. I breathed in deeply, uncertain if I logically wanted to kiss him yet. Physically, emotionally, I was longing for it… but logically, I hesitated.

He'd always been able to read me like a book and the years had not changed this, apparently… He watched me, even moving in unconsciously, but he caught the look in my eye and gave me a turned up corner of his mouth, pressing his lips to my forehead instead. "I'd really… really like to see where it goes too." He whispered against my hairline, drawing me against his chest in a hug.

I wrapped my arms around his waist to keep the jacket from sliding from my shoulders and pulled him close to me, breathing in against his shoulder. If I was honest with myself, I hadn't really ever gotten over him. I mean, sure, I'd moved on, matured, stopped thinking about him… but to say that my heart forgot him would be a lie. I had described the first time we made love as having been lacking something that I never knew I was missing, but when we were together, I realized that I had never been whole before. Being pressed against his chest evoked a similar emotion. I hadn't known—but I was whole again.

But I was afraid, too. If I tried to say I wasn't, it would be a lie. It had taken me… days to function again. Force myself to go to class, turn in homework, feed myself… It had been weeks before I stopped crying myself to sleep, months before I felt like I was alive again… over a year before I went a day without thinking about him as soon as I woke up and right before I fell asleep. At least two before I could go more than a day without thinking about him at all. And there was always the pain… the hole that was not one I'd been unaware of my whole life, but a new hole, jagged around the edges—absolute emptiness. It made it hurt to breathe, hurt to move.

I had been fine. I had lived through worse than losing Gil Grissom… but to say I was willing to do it again was… dangerous. Certainly, I was willing to take the chance again, if only because the pain had dulled so much in six years… the man was my soul mate, after all. I knew this. …But I also knew that fairy tales weren't real. Just because you had found your one-and-only didn't mean you'd have a happily ever after. So I was cautious, because I was frightened. I had seen the kind of pain losing him could inspire, and I didn't wish to see it again.

He pulled back from me with a deep sigh. "…Maybe I'll have to move to a hotel that allows dogs and have Catherine fly Hank up here…"

I felt my worrisome thoughts melt away to be replaced by a warm smile. I had really missed Hank. "…Would you really do that?"

He grinned at my excitement, leading us further down the beach. "Of course. …Especially if I'm going to be here a while. Catherine really only said she'd take him for a week… and that was because I asked her in front of Lindsey." He gave me a mischievous wink and I giggled, feeling impulsive.

"Take your shoes off!" He raised an eyebrow, but couldn't restrain the smile. He bent over, untying his black dress shoes and slipping out of them and then pulling off his socks, one at a time, to shake sand out of them and tuck them into his shoes. With a smile I dropped to my knees in the sand, carefully rolling up his pant legs to his knees. He looked startled at first, but smiled when he realized what I was doing.

I let my fingernails trace up his calves, hoping it teased him as much as it had me, and when I felt his hands fall into my hair—reminding me inescapably of another time I'd been on my knees before this man with his hands in my hair—I knew that it had. I gasped softly as the memory overtook me and felt the heat rising in my face again. As an eighteen year old, I had never seen a penis outside of an anatomy book and the porn he'd made me watch while eating pizza. SoI had had nothing against which to compare Gil when we became intimate.

This, however, was no longer the case. I had had boyfriends, relationships… I was a little more… educated. And that education provided me with the knowledge that I had been missing out, in the last six years. Though even when he'd been controlling he would have been too modest to say so, Gil was an impressive man, not only in skill, but on a purely physical level. No one had ever filled me up like he had…

I had wondered, years ago, if he hadn't ruined sex for me, starting me out with the expectation that every man would have such natural gifts. …Although, in truth, I'd always been glad he was my first. Even when I was hurting, I had been glad.

I rose slowly to my feet, certain my cheeks were red with the heat of my memory, and his looked a little red as well. He licked his lips, softly, and I had to swallow back the moan that rose in my throat. I slid the suit jacket from my shoulders, laying it on top of both of our shoes, and slid my hand into his, intertwining our fingers and tugging him towards the surf. He chuckled.

"You and that ocean…" He scolded teasingly, realizing my intention. "The only thing you used to love more than me."

There's that L-word again. I smile because his voice tells me he's teasing, even though his eyes tell me he likes saying it, even if it's hidden in the safety of past-tense. My impulse is to tease back… shrug it off… but I like it too, even if I'm not ready for it. "I didn't love anything more than you."

Still secure in past tense, but… His breath catches in his throat and his hand tightens on mine. His bright blue eyes catch mine and I feel heat in my face again. Our toes hit the chilly water, however, cooling the moment… putting it on hold, and when I sigh I don't know whether it's in disappointment or relief. We stay on the edge, so that when the waves roll in they hit us mid-calf, but when they roll out our toes are squishing in newly exposed sand.

He brings me around to hug him again, laying a kiss in my hair above my ear. "…I never thought I'd see you again. When I saw you… when I realized it was you, Sara… it felt like something out of a fairy tale."

I feel my body melt into his words, fluid against his strong frame, my arms winding tightly around him. I wouldn't admit it… not really… but it had felt that way for me too. A modern fairy tale, where the princess buys the prince a sub and asks him why he wouldn't ask her out just because they had once been lovers while he was her teacher…

There's a loud BANG! that makes me jump in his arms, and laughing we both turn back to look at the shore line and the row of restaurants just off the beach and up the wooden stairs. A teenager in an apron has slammed open the back door to what must be a bar rather than a restaurant, probably to let in a cool breeze from the ocean. The music from within floats out serendipitously, and though it's almost too faint to hear, it's enough to inspire the entomologist in my arms to step back, move a hand to my waist, and hold my other one out, the way I used to think only old people danced.

I smile as he attempts to move us in the waves and the sticky sand and laugh when I end up stepping on his feet, trying to maneuver without splashing his nice pants. He frowns a little—his eyes still laughing at my laughter, but disappointed that such a romantic gesture had obviously failed. I smothered my giggles and stepped closer to him, trying to free my hand to wrap both arms around his neck. He keeps it though, pressing both our hands to his chest between us, but keeping me close still.

He doesn't try to turn us anymore, but we sway slowly, and eventually I lay my head on his shoulder, wondering at the level of comfort I find with him. Certainly, I had known him very well, once upon a time… I had trusted him more than anyone. …But to still have that comfort, after knowing he'd betrayed me… it seemed foolish, yet I couldn't bring myself to lift my head.

It was like something out of a dream and being in his arms felt like home.

The next song was not another slow one, but fast and loud… and without discussion we moved back as one to our shoes and his jacket, each carrying the pair in our outside hands and holding the others' inside hands. When we reached the steps again, he sat me down, brushing the dry sand that had stuck to my wet feet away, and replacing my shoes so I wouldn't have to walk barefoot on cement. He left his off, and I found myself sneaking glances at his toes.

I had never appreciated them, back when I had been able to see them each and every day if I wanted. They were really rather endearing, as far as toes go.

By the time we made it back to his car, it was after ten o'clock, and though it wasn't so late that the date had to end, it was later than really made sense to start a new activity. He brushed off his own feet and replaced his shoes before driving me home, and he walked me to my door, hand on the small of my back again, smiles on both of our faces.

I leaned back against my door, not unlocking it yet. "…Did you… want to come in for coffee?"

His lips twitched—halfway between a smile and an uncertainty. "…Maybe I'd better not…" He blushed a little, and when I raised an eyebrow, he blushed more, coughing a little. "Temperance," he reminded himself as much as me, and for the briefest moment I cursed the azaleas and their prudish secret meanings. …But he was probably right.

No, he was definitely right. I nodded, smiling, and turned and unlocked my door before turning back to him. "Well I… I really had a nice time, Gil. …I'm glad we did this."

He smiled too, tucking a stray curl behind my ear and leaning in to plant the softest of kisses on my cheek. I felt a delicious, warm tingling seep through my body at the contact, and when he pulled away I'm certain my eyelashes were still fluttering. His smile turned into a grin. "I'm really glad too. …Can I call you tomorrow?"

I nodded. "I'd really like that." He took my hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it as well.

"Until tomorrow, then. …Sweet Dreams, Sara."

"Goodnight…"

I moved into my home, closing my door slowly behind myself as he slowly walked away, before letting myself fall lightly against the door and quietly squeal under my breath.

...What a perfect, perfect night!