A/N: So the tough thing about this arrangement is that there's oftentimes more than just one episode per day that I want to write about. Sometimes it's all four, but I just don't have the time to do all of them, as much as I want to. But I did want to highlight this episode and this moment, so I decided to go ahead and post, even though it's a day late.

And also, Rosalyn Marie asked if I was going to do one for this episode, and she's awesome. So there's that ;)

But I will be doing a story for one of today's (Tuesday's) episodes later, so keep an eye out for that!

Spoilers for episode 2x5, Scuba Doobie-Doo.

It surprised me.

I did it without thinking, acted without forethought, and before I knew it, my hand was touching his cheek in the first deliberately physical contact we'd had in a very long time. It was as if my fingers were electrified, from the look on his face. He didn't jump back, made no bodily sign of being uncomfortable or alarmed by the touch, but under his deep façade, he was startled.

He stared at me as if the contact between my fingers and his cheek was the most intimate touch humanly possible. Something he never expected.

It made me withdraw my fingers.

"Chalk," I offered offhandedly. "From plaster."

I don't really remember much of the rest of the conversation, or, to be honest, much of the rest of the case. I knew he found the body, knew the apartment manager was arrested, but all I found myself thinking about was that touch – the feeling of his skin under mine, how wonderful it felt, and, above all, how I had instigated it.

I hoped I didn't cross a line. I had this… sort-of-kinda thing going on with someone from work, but we were nothing serious. Not yet. And if I were to sit myself down for an honest-to-God talking-to, I would have to admit that I cared for Grissom more than I probably should. I would drop any sort-of-kinda-almost relationship for an opportunity for something, anything, with Grissom.

By the end of the night, I decided that I was glad I did it. It could have been painfully awkward, but somehow, it wasn't. That told me that somewhere within him, Grissom felt something too. Felt the natural simplicity in my skin making contact with his.

If only everything else in our relationship was as effortless.

One touch wouldn't solve things. But it did make one thing starkly clear.

I cared about him.

No matter what.

It shocked me.

Heart pounding, pulse racing, adrenaline flowing, trying to calm myself down, the very last thing I expected was for Sara to reach out and put a delicate, comforting hand on my face. And yet, she did. And it was.

Delicate and comforting, I mean.

I must have looked surprised, because she withdrew immediately. I almost wished she didn't. The moment her fingers reached my cheek, I felt an inexplicable calm spread through me, like the sun calming the waves of a thrashing storm.

Her presence oftentimes acted as an enigmatic sort of tranquility for me. As if just being around her made me step back, slow down, and breathe. But her touch… well, that was… exhilarating.

What almost surprised me more than the actual contact was the fact that Sara had initiated it. Usually, any contact we had was shoulder-to-shoulder from close proximity, a casual hand here or there for guidance, or a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. Always initiated by me. This was different.

This was Sara, reaching out to me, literally, to extend… what, exactly? Friendship Support? Sympathy? I didn't know exactly what she meant by her actions, but the mere idea of Sara reaching out to me with any motive at all was calming. By her touch, I knew she believed in me, knew that I would rise above the frustration and ultimately prevail. She was there for me. She'd help me. In the end, Sara re-instilled my confidence in myself.

And just by resting a few fingers on my face.

Sara confused me, frightened me and challenged me. But whatever would transpire between us, I knew one thing was for certain.

Deep down, regardless, I would always care for her.

No matter what.