Disclaimer: These CSI characters do not belong to me. 'nough said!

Rating: T.

A/N: First of all, I want to thank those of you who whipped my derriere back to focus on this story with your comments! There is so much going on since the premiere that makes it impossible to concentrate on a story such as this one. I take full responsibility for not updating in a timely manner but please blame TPTB for my muse's lack of focus. ;) Once again, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed. Your comments meant a lot to me (and thoroughly loved!). If you didn't have time to review, thanks for spending the time reading also. Peace…


Chapter 04

"How do I get out of this?"

"You came straight here from class just to talk about the bet?" Josie eyed Sara for a moment before bursting out laughing.

"Hey, stop it!" Sara retorted, looking indignant. "You try being cornered in the ladies' room by Amie Harris!"

"Ok, I am sorry." Josie paused momentarily as her black almond eyes grinned at Sara before turning serious. "Sara, Amie is pit bull. She will not stop until she gets what she wants. Do you know why she holds the best solve rate over at PD?"

Sara just shook her head.

"It's because she's relentless, she doesn't take 'no' for an answer and she defines police brutality by kicking the crap out any schmuck who crosses path with her."

"So I should be grateful that she's a bully?" Sara gave Josie a lopsided smirk.

"No, what I am saying is to survive her games, you need to be tougher than her and not to give up too easily."

"But I don't want to play her games."

Josie gave her friend a sympathetic smile then continued, "Look, you don't have to join the bet if you don't want to. But since Amie has already thought of you as competition, she won't back down until you're off the playing field."

Sara laughed, "How can I get off the playing field when I was never on it in the first place!"


Sara blamed insomnia for her desire to wake up the next morning and arrived an hour early for class. As she strolled toward the lecture hall, the morning sun beckoned her and made her realized that it had been a long time since she actually enjoyed basking in the early morning rays. Sara quickly scanned her surrounding and found a patch of grass on the side of the building where she could just sit and quietly meditate. She situated herself along with her book bag atop the dew-encased blades of grass and faced the sun. She was sure her black jeans would get grass stains after this but she didn't care, no one would see them since the jeans were black after all. Once comfortably cross-legged, she closed her eyes and just relaxed into the serenity of the moment.

Sara felt his presence even before he had a chance to say a word to her. He was standing in front of her now, blocking the source of her relaxation. Sara cracked one eye open and looked up at a grinning Dr. Grissom. "I'm not stalking you again, am I?"

His smile turned mischievous as she opened the other eye, "No, but I am thrilled at your barely contained enthusiasm as you wait for me this early in the morning."

"Wow, from stalking to harassment in less than twenty four hours, you may as well throw the book at me and cuff me now." Sara held out her hands, wrists face up in playfulness.

"Please don't tempt me... I may have to cuff you for purposes other than putting you in jail." His grin grew wider as he winked at her.

Sara shook her head in laughter as she briefly glanced down at her lap, then back up at his intense blue eyes. "You are just incorrigible!"

"Have coffee with me. Class won't start for another hour." It wasn't a question but a demand, a gentle demand... "Please..." One that Sara couldn't turn down even if she wanted to.

Grissom extended his hand to help her up from her sitting position while she stared hesitantly at him before accepting his offer. The warmth of his hand made her blood accelerated under her pale skin, causing her to blush under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Uh-hmm..." Sara cleared her throat, signaling to the man in front of her that he was still holding her hand captive, a bit longer than necessary, though she wasn't really complaining.

Looking down at their entwined hands, Grissom reluctantly let his drop away from Sara's as one corner of his mouth curved up into an apologetic grin. "Um... sorry..."

"I know a coffee shop a five-minute walk from here," Sara quickly turned his attention away from the momentarily awkwardness of their first touch, "Would you like to go there or stay on campus?"

"When in Rome..." He cocked his head to the general direction opposite the lecture hall. "You lead."

The quick walk to the coffee shop was filled with weather conversations and notes comparisons between living in the middle of the desert and having the Pacific Ocean right in your backyard. Once they bought their coffee and, at his insistence, huge homemade bran muffins, they settled on a two-seat corner table and enjoyed their impromptu breakfast. Between bites of deliciously warm muffins, bits and pieces of their backgrounds were shared, though all of which were career related and none of personal nature. When the last drop of coffee was consumed, they quietly stared at their empty cups and agreed it was time to head to class. Their walk back to the lecture hall was shrouded in silence, each contemplating on what had just happened during the last hour.

Once back in the safe environment of academia, he was once again the teacher and she, the student. He lectured and she took notes. And asked questions, a lot of questions. Whether it was conscious or unconscious on her part, Sara had begun to feel the need to have her knowledge validated by this man. His commanding personality demanded perfection and nothing less. In the beginning, her questions were answered adequately, just enough to lead to the next one. By the end of the fourth day, her questions were met with long discussions between her and Grissom, sometimes other members of the class would joined in, but mostly, it seemed to the rest of the world that they were lost in their own little bubble of awareness.

Despite what her brain adamantly denied, her heart drew her to him like a moth to a flame. As cliché as it sounded, she found herself anticipating each day of lecture with the very charming but disturbingly handsome Dr. Grissom. There was no denying that the man knew his subject inside out and very well respected in his field of study. The flip side of the coin was, after three consecutive breakfast 'dates', she still knew nothing about his personal life and it didn't seem like he was about to divulge any information anytime soon.

As much as she enjoyed her time with Grissom, Sara was also aware that Detective Amie Harris had been observing her and Grissom's dynamics closely for the past week and it made her feel a little unsettled. She did not want anymore confrontation with Amie but a part of her knew that it was inevitable that the subject of the bet would eventually come back to haunt her.


Gil Grissom had never really cared about dressing up just to impress a woman but when he woke up the morning of the fifth day of his lecture, the urge to make a certain brunette turn her head was so overwhelming that he practically jumped out of bed and into the bathroom. Staring at his face in the mirror above the sink, Grissom wondered if she would find his stubbles sexy or would she think of him as lazy for not shaving. Like the ever-changing seasons, Grissom's beard would make an appearance every few years. He would go through his beard phase until he'd wake up one morning and decide he wanted his face back and welcomed the straight razor with open arms. It had been awhile since his last beard phase and he wasn't planning on having one in the near future so in the end, he played it safe and shaved himself clean.

After his shower, he was determined to dress to kill with butt hugging blue jeans (Catherine once mentioned that women would drool over men who wore these), a beige shirt and a dark brown Western styled blazer. He finished off the outfit with ankle length boots. The only things missing were a genuine Stetson and a six-shooter (though his Smith & Wesson 9mm semi-automatic would more than qualified but he had left it back in Vegas) or he would have been an image Roy Rogers would be proud of.

As he marched his way toward the coffee shop to meet with Sara that morning, he felt like he could conquer the world and ready to ooze the cowboy charms. When he finally saw her sitting at their usual table, her profile buried deep in one of his textbooks, his thoughts had diminished to the Neanderthal-ish You me... discover fire.

Sara looked up from her reading when he approached the table and gave him one of her mega-watt smiles. "I guess the sheriff is back in town. Wow... you look... wow..."

Her words made his heart pumped faster, pushing all coherent thoughts out of his brain and circulating them elsewhere. "Thanks?" So much for oozing cowboy charms...

"I would like to think that you had dressed up just to impress me."

He gave her a perplexed look before shaking his head at her. "Ooh... touché!"

She gave him a hearty laugh, one that was so contagious that it had him laughing and mesmerized at the same time.

"I see you have been reading my recommended books." Grissom nodded his head at the reading materials residing on the table in front of her.

She just shrugged, "Just something to pass the time..." Then she quietly added, "...and your class."

"Trying to be my star pupil, are you?" He teased her but only received a shy dip of her head in return. His heart just did a backflip then. The more time he spent with her, the more fascinated he became. He was attracted not only to her natural beauty but at her thirst for knowledge also. Her rate of absorption of everything he said startled him and made him feel... proud. And if he wasn't too far off base, he could conclude that the attraction was mutual. And it was starting to scare him.

When she finally lifted her head to face him, she was ready to discuss whatever was in that book and they were back in the safe zone. Five minutes before they were scheduled to head to class, she fidgeted in her chair and blurted out something that made him did a double take.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Her invitation caught him totally off guard and he had to bite down his tongue to prevent the escape of the reflexed 'no'. He stared at her for a moment just to confirm the accuracy of his hearing. And if she did ask him out, what would be the consequences of the date? As if reading his mind, she looked down at her coffee and said softly, "It's just dinner. No need for rationalization of the meanings behind it."

"Sara..." His answer stopped at those two syllables. He was grasping wildly for something to say but only came up empty handed.

"Look Grissom, I am a big girl, I can handle a 'no' if you're so inclined." She put on brave smile for his benefit but he could see the vulnerability hiding deep in her eyes. And it unhinged him.

"Yes..."

"Yes, you're inclined or..." Her brown eyes shot up at him in surprise...

"No..."

... then settled back down in disappointment at the table after his latest reply. "That's ok... some other time..."

"No... I mean 'yes'..." Grissom's hand reached across the table and lifted her chin so their eyes would meet. "Let's have dinner."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The rest of that Friday was lost in the euphoria of the impending date. Sara told him that she needed to swing by the lab to collect some personal stuff after class and could meet him at the restaurant. But being a traditionalist in some ways, he had insisted that he would come by and pick her up at her apartment and so she had handed him her address.


As Sara drove away from the Berkeley campus after class, a sudden thought occurred to her that Grissom might need her phone number just in case he couldn't find her home. She u-turned quickly and headed back toward the university.

Whatever rational that had led Sara to go find Grissom this afternoon suddenly dissipated to be replaced by uttered mortification when she stood outside his temporary office, overhearing the muffled words permeated through the closed office door while watching two familiar silhouettes moved against one another through the opaque glass panel of the office wall.

"Gil... please..." Sara clearly recognized the owner of that feminine purr...

And the masculine reply that followed. "Amie... " was the last thing Sara heard before she quickly backed away from Grissom's office and practically sprinted down the hallway and out of the building.


TBC