A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback. Real life is very involved right now. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Chapter 49

Sara stood motionless in her bathroom for a full ten minutes. Grissom had gone to the patio, presumably to clean up her mess, and while he swept broken glass, she reeled from his admission.

He wanted her.

That he wanted her was not so much of a shock. She was a reasonably attractive women, she knew, and could clean up quite nicely when she tried. That he admitted it out loud -- to her and to himself -- was what left Sara stunned, still as a statue. Their whole relationship was built on the denial of his attraction and the divulgence of hers. She pursued and he retreated.

Sara had to wonder if his confession meant Grissom was switching gears, beginning to actively pursue for himself. She had no intention of retreating, however.

Still clad in her bathrobe, Sara strode with purpose down the stairs. She slipped on a pair of flip flops and slid the patio door open. Grissom was on his knees, meticulously sweeping up the glass shards off the terracotta tile. He looked up at her when he heard the latch of the door click, his gaze meeting her eyes before traveling down to her feet to make sure they were protected.

"Do you need help?"

"No, I'm fine," he told her before getting back to work.

Sara took a seat on a nearby lounger and watched him. He gave the task the same degree of attention he would a crime scene. "Don't let Brenda out here without shoes," he told her as he slowly pushed himself up off of his knees and retrieved the dustpan from the floor. Grissom emptied it into a nearby heavy-duty black garbage bag and then turned to her awkwardly, as if he wasn't sure what to do around her now that the mess was gone.

She crossed her legs and narrowed her eyes. "I've got a conference in Houston in two and a half weeks. Come with me."

Grissom's mouth formed a small 'O' but no sound came out.

"I was going to think of some way to get out of it," Sara continued, "maybe get someone else on dayshift to go in my place…but…I think you should go with me."

"Sara, I-I'm not working for the lab right now, I-"

"I don't mean come to the conference. I mean come to Houston. This has nothing to do with work."

Everything she was implying seemed hit him at once and all awkwardness in his demeanor disappeared, replaced by a calm that made her nervous. "You'll fax me the information so I can buy a plane ticket?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly feeling chilled.

"You should go inside. It's getting cold and you're still wet."

They walked back into the house, Grissom stopping in the kitchen to dispose of the garbage bag full of glass. "Goodnight, Sara," he said, getting his car keys out of his pocket as he approached the front door. Grissom was halfway over the threshold when he turned around, knocking into her. "Sorry," he mumbled, cupped her jaw with a hand and gave her a small kiss -- a peck -- on the lips before continuing out the door.

Sara didn't sleep. She should've, but she couldn't. Her mind wouldn't shut down. A second wind luckily kicked in an hour into her shift so she was able to get through the day without making any egregious errors. By the time she picked up Brenda from school, however, Sara was running on fumes.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hey, B," Sara said, taking the schoolbag from her daughter and helping her into the SUV. "Did you have fun on your trip."

"On the way to the museum our bus ran over a opossum. It was so gross."

Sara chuckled. "I'm glad the museum had a lasting effect on you."

Brenda was silent for a while, a long while -- long enough to have her mother look up at the review mirror curiously. "What's on your mind?"

"Is Gil your boyfriend?"

Sara coughed. "Excuse me?"

"Is Gil your boyfriend?"

"W-why would you ask that?"

In the mirror, she could see Brenda shrug. "Martin asked me last night if you and Gil were boyfriend and girlfriend."

"And…what did you tell him?"

"I told him you were friends," the girl answered.

"Okay."

"But then Norah said she overheard her mom tell her dad that you were too pretty not to have a boyfriend."

Sara swallowed hard. "Okay."

"So…I mean, you said he was your friend and that he's only over every night because you're helping him out."

"Uh-huh."

"So, is he your boyfriend?"

Eyes wide, Sara shifted in her seat and gripped the steering wheel. The tone in Brenda's voice made evident the fact that an answer in the affirmative would only arouse indignation on the part of the little girl. And was the truthful answer yes anyway? Sara wasn't so sure. The night before, they had planned an affair to take place in a fortnight and some change. It was scheduled sex and though Sara could not be sure if it changed the label on their relationship, Grissom's small kiss goodbye certainly thrust them out of the realm of the pseudofriendship that had been taking place for over a decade.

"No."

She felt ashamed for more than one reason. It wasn't an outright lie, but it was close enough. Brenda's question didn't revolve around the typical definition of boyfriend. Grissom didn't take Sara out on dates or buy her flowers and candy. He hadn't even slept with her. But that wasn't the point -- or it wasn't Brenda's point, anyway. Grissom was the man in Sara's life and so, in every way that mattered, he was her boyfriend. To say he wasn't insulted the three of them.

But Sara knew there was nothing she could do. To go into detail about her feelings for him, besides being confusing and inappropriate, would only hinder future interaction between Brenda and Grissom. And then Grissom would no doubt sense Brenda's discomfort and retreat. She'd be left with an angry daughter and no…boyfriend. No Grissom.

Still, a lie was a lie.

Sara pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Brenda, Gil is…Gil is very important to me. Remember when you were asking about the Olympics last week and how the medals go in order from Gold to Silver to Bronze?"

"Yeah," she answered, a bit leery of the direction of the conversation.

"Well," Sara continued, turning in her seat so she could look at Brenda, "if I had to give out medals to the most important people in my life, you'd get the Gold. And the Silver. And the Bronze. Okay?"

"Okay."

"But in fourth place would be Gil. And even though he doesn't get a medal, he's still up there. He's still…important."

"But I'm the most important?"

"Right. You get all the medals. And even though I was helping him out for a little while because he was having a hard time, he's helped me out through a lot too. Remember when I was sick and he helped take care of me?" she reminded Brenda, who nodded. "And now he's helping you with your science project and you two are already planning your next diorama to go with your book report. He's…he's good to have around, isn't he?"

"I guess. I mean, I like him."

"So do I. Now, can you see why he's an important person in my life?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Sara ended it at that. She couldn't go into depth about her relationship with Grissom because, first of all, she wasn't sure what her relationship with Grissom was, and even if she did have any idea how to describe it, it wasn't something a mother discusses with her daughter. She yawned and got out of the car, feeling the lack of sleep catch up to her. By the time Grissom came and the takeout was ordered, Sara was on her last legs. She nodded off as Brenda began to divvy up the Monopoly money for their game only to be awoken a couple of hours later by a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Hey."

Sara blinked and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light. "Hey."

"Brenda went to bed a little while ago," Grissom explained as he finished putting away the game. "She beat me soundly. I mortgaged all my properties, sold my railroads….she's a killer."

Smiling sleepily, Sara stretched. "Yeah, I haven't won a game yet. Sorry, I fell asleep. I was more tired than I thought."

"Don't worry about it. We had a good time."

Because she thinks your not my boyfriend, Sara thought to herself.

"I guess I'll get going. It's getting late."

"Okay."

"Okay," he repeated and she got up to walk him to the front door. "Goodnight, Sara."

He kissed her again, another small peck. It tasted of peanuts and the burrito he ate at dinner, and Grissom pulled back suddenly, as if he had just realized his breath was less than savory. "Sorry, I--"

She shook her head and gave him another small kiss to ease his mind. "Did you get my fax?"

"What? Oh, yes. I did. Thank you."

"So you ordered your ticket?" she asked, eyebrows raised slightly.

"Yes, I did."

"Good. Good."

"Yeah. Uh, goodnight."

Sara smiled and watched him walk to his car, watched him drive away, and thought it was high time the Olympics came up with a fourth place medal.

TBC…