A/N: A sweet chapter to enjoy with Valentine's Day tomorrow… This chapter pretty much wrote itself. Although some might say this is just a chapter full of fluff, I feel it provides some cement to their burgeoning relationship that will be important in future chapters. Besides: ) when these two start whispering in your ear, you might as well listen. Next update not for a few more days…As usual, my loyal reviewers keep me going…You are great! – Kathy

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The master bath had been a deciding factor in Grissom's decision to purchase the townhouse. Aside from its imported Italian tile-covered walls and flooring, it housed a magnificent oversized federal blue ceramic tub. The styling was reminiscent of the 1940's claw-footed, curled rim variety, but this tub offered some state-of-the-art amenities.

The ceramic had been effused with a substance that softened the texture and made reclining more pleasurable, reducing the stress on a person's pressure points.

The walls concealed heating elements that not only aided in maintaining the desired water temperature for a longer period, but became an auxiliary heating source when the sanijets were turned on, creating a space age luxury spa.

Grissom's long hours and hectic lifestyle did not leave him with nearly enough time to put this fixture to frequent use, though on a particularly long shift the thought alone of coming home for a long soak in it brought him relief on some level.

Today, he was glad it was here for Sara. He was sure it would comfort her from the aches and pains of her ordeal.

He hoped it would restore some feeling of well-being, serving as a relief from her worries.

He smiled inwardly. But I guess that really is my job now.

Having carried her into the master bedroom, he lay her quiet figure on the king-sized bed and kissed her cheek softly before brushing her errant curls out of her eyes, making her look him in the eye.

"I'll just be a minute to set up the tub, then you can have a nice long soak, ok sweetheart?"

He stood to leave, but Sara grabbed at his wrist to pull him back to her.

Gazes still locked, she looked at him wide-eyed and asked meekly, "Stay with me?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and began to explain more clearly, "Sara, the hot soak will make you feel better. You won't be so…" he was distracted from his speech as his eyes looked for the first time at the fully apparent bruising.

As Sara usually only wore a spaghetti strap camisole and matching bikini to bed, that was what she had donned under the butterfly robe during her visit with Nick and Warrick.

When Grissom had put her to bed, the lights were low and he had hurried her out of the robe and under the comforter.

Now, in the daylight, the investigator was already tracing the bruising in his mind. The apparent hand prints were in various shades of deep purple, indicating the strength and duration of the abuse.

"Griss?" Sara asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Her weary gaze had not followed his, and she was not aware of his divergent train of thought.

"Griss…will you…?" she began.

He took up both her hands in his one, smoothing her hair with the other in a soothing touch.

"Anything, Sara…what do you need?" he smiled lovingly, causing concern when her face did not reflect his demeanor.

She looked at him for what seemed like an eternity. There was no exuberance, no flirtatious tone, just a simple statement of fact.

"You…" she said huskily, her eyes beginning to become filled with emotion. She took in a chest-heaving breath to regain her control.

"I just need you. Will you come with me for a soak? And just hold me?"

The simplicity of her request was his undoing. He reached forward, pulling her into his grasp. She seemed so frail to him at this moment. He was almost afraid to release her, so strong was his need to protect her.

These feelings overshadowed his need to exact revenge for the treatment she had suffered at the hands of that maniac.

There would be time for all that…and he would pay, Grissom swore internally.

Right now, Sara needed him.

And that is how they found themselves a few moments later, standing beside the ceramic vehicle that would provide their momentary getaway from all matters that contributed to their mental and physical stress.

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Having shed their clothing, they placed two of his terrycloth short robes on the clothes hooks inside the door.

Grissom had already turned up the bathroom heat, each room being zoned separately. He had adjusted the speaker volume for the satellite radio installed in the bedroom, and dimmed the overhead lights somewhat.

They stood there before the tub now, Gil shielding Sara's body from the chest height mirrors so as not to alarm her the first time she saw herself after that night.

Instead, he led her softly by the shoulders, kissing one softly as he moved past her to enter the liquid piece of heaven. Then he turned and supported her while she bent her long legs and stood before him, having fully entered the watery arena.

Grissom's gently touched her upper arms, moving them to turn her so that she faced away from him, when he involuntarily gasped.

"Gil!" yelped Sara, worriedly. "Are you alright?"

'Yes, but you aren't!' he wanted to scream, but not wanting to worry her, he kept silent.

He stood horrified at the amount of purplish and sickly-blue imprints across her back.

Blunt force on a wide scale…the bastard must have thrown her against the wall!

It was becoming difficult to control his rage, causing Sara to ask again as she tried to turn against his unwilling hands, "Gil! Tell me what's wrong, baby!"

The scenario kept playing out before him, and with each replay he felt his anger building, causing his grip on Sara's shoulders to become painful.

"Gil! Stop! You're hurting me!" Sara yelled as she tried to put some distance between them.

Her shrieks caused him to snap back to the present, reaching for her, and frantically calling to her frightened form, "Sara…honey…I'm so sorry…so sorry…Sara…"

He refused to let her turn to see him. She was a top-notched investigator who would have deduced the reason for his emotional outburst immediately. He needed to calm down. This was not about him, it needed to be about what she needed now.

"Sara…will you trust me?...please, honey…let me get settled and then I'll help you sit and relax, ok?...Sara?"

Hanging her head for a moment to regain her composure, Sara just nodded her head.

Grissom sat quickly, the warmth of the almost shoulder-high deep water causing a sigh to be released from his own depths.

"Sara…" he reached out with both hands, leaning forward to help deposit her in his lap, her long legs almost extending the full length of the tub.

"Oh," she whimpered softly as the warmth encircling the paper-cut style openings stung sharply with the initial contact to the areas that had bled slightly.

"Ah," she sighed softly as she leaned against his warmth.

Having her seated almost on his lap, surrounded by the warm water, with the strains of a piano concerto lilting through the low lighting of the room caused his body to instantly react.

He shifted nervously, hoping she would not feel the strength of his male reaction, making her wonder if he had an ulterior motive for insisting on a warm bath.

He was worried that she would not understand the depth of his true feelings for her.

He was so much older, and she was young and beautiful.

He was certainly not looking for just a roll in the hay.

He saw the act of making love as an almost spiritual thing, uniting two people in the most intimate form of sharing. Since they had met all those years ago, he had always desired to fully communicate his most intimate side with Sara.

But sitting here, he worried she was going to get the wrong message.

Sara leaned against him and soon understood the reason for his sudden attempts at repositioning.

She smirked softly, wondering how to put him out of his misery.

She had known Gil Grissom long enough to understand that he must be filled with self-doubt right about now.

Poor baby. This is all so new to him. She coughed lightly, attempting to disguise her amusement.

He is so damned introspective. He holds the bar high for everyone, and impossibly higher for himself.

But…that is just one of the many reasons I have always loved this wonderful man.

Today, however, she did not want him to suffer any self-recriminations. She just wanted to be with him. And if that meant he unconsciously wanted to be with her….

Sara leaned back fully into his chest, turned her head, and breathed into his ear, "Is that a bar of soap you have there, or are you just glad to see me?"

He was glad she could not see him face on. His blushing was a source of consternation to him. When he was in this proximity to her, he felt as out of control as a teenager on a Friday night date.

Gil leaned back against the rim of the tub, sliding them both slightly forward. His positioning placed her more comfortably over his problem area, and that made Sara sigh happily.

He smiled. She knew him…he was totally bare before her…and she loved him despite all his imperfections. He spoke softly:

"But love is blind and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy."

Sara turned her head towards him, but continued to look out to the tiles at the prismatic reflections of the dimmed lights off the bathroom mirrors.

"I love when you quote Shakespeare to me."

He leaned and whispered into her ear, "And I love you."

Soon, the tub's timer kicked on the jets, creating a soothing motion which allowed both of them to relax fully.

He noticed she was melted against him, quiet and still, her breathing contented.

I wonder if she…if now would be a good time to…

He cleared his throat and without opening her eyes she declared forcefully, "The answer is yes, to anything, if I just don't have to get out of this heaven right now."

Her smile would have dimmed if she could have seen the regret in his eyes.

"Sara?...please tell me the rest of the story about last night."

Immediately, he could feel her react although she would not seem to a casual observer to have moved an inch. Her continued silence made him uneasy. He reached tentatively for her hand and was encouraged when she did not pull away.

The silence continued. Finally,

"What more is there to tell? What is it you need to know?"

"Honey, your back is so bruised…"

----------------------------------------"I told you I bumped into him in the hallway and he was angry and led me…."

"Sara…" he was keeping his voice calm while his insides were churning, "He threw you against a wall."

---------------------------------------Her silence affirmed his belief. "He…it wasn't exactly…"

He interrupted. "Sara, what happened when you got to his office?"

Again there was silence. This time he could feel the wheels in her head turning, looking for a way to escape. Unwittingly, he closed his arms around her in a loving, supportive embrace.

"Sara," he whispered into the silence, "please…let me help you…please, honey…"

A tear now escaped from her closed eyelids.

How can I tell one piece of a very complicated puzzle without bringing the entire picture into the spotlight?

"Gil…" she tried a different approach. "I can handle Ecklie. I don't want to blow this little incident out of proportion. He lost his temper. I lost mine. He said things. I said things. I…I am just going to put it where it belongs…in the past. I can do that, and move on."

"Little incident?...Sara!" he groaned, exasperated. "HOW can you just let someone continue to hurt you, and not want to make him pay bitterly for it?"

Perhaps she did not think about her response before she mouthed it.

Perhaps she did think about her words, in an effort to drive her point home.

"Because….if I didn't do that…I wouldn't have you…."