Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: GSRCSILVR, your wish is my command. :)

csiKathy, I promise, you can have this Grissom if Sara decides she doesn't want him. Although... you might want to watch out. In my experience, Sara has had this vulture problem where Grissom is concerned... :P

Hope everyone enjoys! Thanks for the reviews!! They make my day!

Chapter Ten:

I woke up with a pounding headache, and when I didn't recognize the ceiling above me or the bed and blankets around me… I panicked.

In an instant I was flinging myself out of bed, sheets wrapped around my legs making me hit the wall I was apparently right next to with a loud SMACK before I crumpled to the floor. I gave myself a minute to get my bearings, this time, taking in the barely-there light around the edges of the thick, hotel curtains and the soft snoring coming from off to my right. I sat up slowly this time, disentangling my legs and pulling myself up to stand more slowly, gritting my teeth against the pounding in my skull.

Dr. Gr—Vegas… was not in the bed I'd just flown out of, despite my first assumptions… he was in the spare one… completely innocent-looking in sleep, and apparently quite the gentleman. I didn't remember much from the night before after we left the bar… but I remembered saying something about putting my tongue in his mouth.

I moved toward the bathroom as quietly as I could, tripping over my boots at the end of the bed and sprawling forward again. God, with this kind of coordination I was inclined to believe I was still a little drunk. I pulled myself to my feet again, the heels of my palms stinging, and glanced over at his sleeping form again—he was still snoring, and he hadn't moved. I breathed a sigh of relief and moved into the bathroom more slowly this time, closing the door behind me before turning the lights on.

I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes squinted against the light and my hair up and crazy around my head. I glanced at the door, and then hesitantly dug through the small bag he had on the counter—first and foremost, I found Tylenol and took three, hoping they would kick in fast. Then I found a comb and ran it through my hair until it looked presentable, considering using his toothpaste on my finger and deciding it didn't matter—I needed to get out of here.

I mean, it wasn't that I didn't appreciate that he'd clearly been a gentleman… and knowing that, I could only assume that he had brought me here for innocent reasons. After all, I'd had quite a bit to drink if the pounding in my head could tell me anything… So I was grateful. I was.

But the idea of waking him up to tell him I was leaving, or waiting for him to wake up… I didn't know what I would say or… what it would mean. I didn't know how to talk to him, in this intimate and awkward and uncertain setting, and that sped up my actions. I went to the bathroom, straightened my clothes, and then turned off the light to slip back into the room silently.

I found my jacket and slid it over my shoulder and then sat on the edge of the bed, lifting one of my boots to slide it back onto my feet. It was half on my foot when his alarm went off. I froze, and then frantically hurried, tugging desperately at it and then grabbing the second boot. He turned it off and I froze again, turning to look—he wasn't moving. Maybe he'd just hit snooze… I stood up, thinking I'd slip out and put the other boot on in the hallways, but then his voice came through the darkness.

"…I didn't mean for… the night to end that way."

I let my eyes close. Damn it, why did this guy have to be so coherent seconds after waking? Jace usually took an hour and ridiculous amounts of caffeine to be half this lucid. I swallowed, half-turning to face him, uncertainly holding my boot in hand. "…I know. I… Thank you, for…" I trailed off, not sure what to say.

He sat up in bed, running a hand over his face and fixing me with a direct look. "…For not sleeping with you while you couldn't say no? Yeah, no problem." There was a brief pause and he sighed. "If you want to sneak out, I can lay back down and pretend to go back to sleep… although I don't know why you'd pay for a cab when I can give you a ride. …Unless you're worried about Jace seeing me drop you off."

I frowned. I had intentionally not told him Jace's name… it felt… like I would be doing something wrong, if I talked to Vegas about Jace. I must have let it slip last night. I watched him for a long moment and then shook my head, sitting back on the end of the bed. "No—he won't be home 'til… later. It's fine."

He ran a hand through his curls, serving only to fluff them out more. I kept waiting for him to reach over and turn the lights on, but he didn't, so we sat in the dark. "…I assumed that he worked nights, when you said he wouldn't be home at two a.m. but… if he won't be home until 'later'… That's a long time to be working."

I swallowed again, my throat so very dry. "…I'm not talking about him with you."

He nodded, slowly, and retrieved his glasses from the nightstand. "When's your first lecture, this morning? I'm sure you didn't get enough sleep."

I frowned. "I'm not… going back to sleep… here."

He sighed again, slipping out of bed and passing me on his way to the bathroom. "I'll be ready in ten minutes, and then I'll take you home." The door closed and I let my eyelids fall, my stomach churning. I wanted to correct him… to tell him to take me to my car… but the way my head was still spinning, I was fairly sure the alcohol hadn't completely cleared my system. Maybe I should take a cab, while he's in the bathroom…

I just didn't want him to see my home. It felt like I was cheating on Jace, even if I never saw Dr.—Vegas again, if I let him see our home. I would feel too guilty.

I sighed, opening my eyes and putting on the boot I still held in my hand before moving to the bedside and switching on the bedside lamp. I paced the room until he came out, turning to look at him and then quickly away when I realized he was clad only in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. I stared at the bedside table containing all the generic hotel necessities—beige phone, paper and pen with hotel name on them, old, digital alarm clock. I was willing to bet all the money I'd won from him the previous night that there was a Gideon bible and a phone book in the single drawer.

I tried not to listen as he pulled clothes from his suitcase and dressed in the little hallway by the door, but I couldn't help it—and then I was putting sounds in context and conjuring images to connect the two. He was slipping into pants, and they were fitted, by the sound of it… jeans, or fitted slacks. Then a shirt—I heard it slide over his shoulders, and then there was a long period of quiet in which I assumed he was buttoning it up. I heard him rustle in his bag again and then the bed closest to the bathroom—the one I'd slept in—creak as he sat down. I imagined him pulling socks—white sweat socks if he were in jeans, black dress socks if her were in slacks—over his bare feet.

This, of course, spurred a memory from the previous night. A little curly-headed boy in a greenhouse, his toes curling and uncurling in the dirt, while he read a book so large he could hardly hold it in his little hands. I glanced behind myself—black slacks and a light blue shirt with white stripes. I couldn't see his face, but I knew how bright his eyes would be if he turned to look at me.

"…I'm sorry for how I've been… this morning." He glanced at me in surprise and I turned away, disliking that even when I imagined his eyes ahead of time, they still made me catch my breath when he turned. "I just… didn't expect to wake up in this situation. …I didn't know how to act."

He was pulling shoes over his feet, but he still nodded. "I know. …I'm sorry that I made things… uncomfortable. I… was worried about leaving you alone, last night. When you said that Ja—he would be working late, I…"

"I know."

"…If you're ready, I can take you home."

I stood and turned to look at him. "Last night… If I weren't engaged… If I…"

"I know," he said softly, and I swallowed again. Apparently, nothing more needed to be said. I followed him out, into his car, and when we were both seated, gave him directions to get onto the interstate… it was a rather long drive.

"I, uh… I can call a cab, if you have to be somewhere soon. I live in Berkeley, not in San Francisco…"

"All my lectures start late today… I'll probably drop you off and then head back to sleep."

I glanced at him. "…You're pretty dressed up, for someone who wants to sleep."

He shrugged, signaling to turn onto the interstate. "I didn't bring a lot of extra clothing… I expected to be dressing up every day."

I leaned back, watching him out of the side of my eyes. "…Was that your real first kiss story?"

He chuckled. "It was. …What, you don't believe me?"

I shook my head. "It's not that…"

"What then?"

"It's just… a pretty brave thing for a middle school girl to do."

He blinked. "She wasn't in middle school."

I frowned. "You said… you played baseball in middle school and… the girl was a girl in your math class."

He grinned. "I was two years ahead of my grade in math. I took a bus to the high school every day for my math class."

"Oh." I watched him for a moment. "…So a girl… two years older than you… went to your baseball game and pushed you against the bleachers and stuck her tongue in your mouth?"

His ears were red again. "…I guess."

I laughed. "You were irresistible, even then."

He glanced at me out of the side of his eyes, a sly smile slipping over his lips. "You're doing a pretty good job resisting me…"

I smiled, shaking my head. "Does it seem that way to you?"

He laughed. "You told me to call you 'taken' last night, when I said you didn't have a nickname."

I snorted—I had forgotten that. "If I were resisting as much as I ought to… If I was doing nothing that would make me feel guilty… I would have stayed home last night."

"…Alone?"

I glanced at him. "He's working on his Masters, during the day… works at night. We have a honeymoon to pay for…"

He looked like he didn't like the news, but after a moment a polite expression crossed his face. "Oh? Where to?"

I looked at my knees. "We haven't decided yet. …I'd love to see Paris or go someplace exotic like… I don't know, Costa Rica. Go on the Sea Shepherd and… see the Galapagos… see what Darwin saw, you know? See the rainforest… But Jace has his heart set on Hawaii. We haven't really decided which yet…"

He glanced at me again—a strange, side-of-the-eye, meditative kind of look. "…How do you… not know… where you're going? I mean, if the wedding's this Saturday?"

"We're not going right after… He's got to finish his thesis and I haven't been at the lab long… I don't have much vacation time built up… two weeks, maybe, if I combined my sick leave and my vacation time. So, we're waiting… saving up…"

He nodded. "Well… The rainforest is beautiful. You'll love it. … I mean, if you go there. It… It's something every… scientist… should see, once in their lives."

My eyes lit up. "You've been to the rainforest?"

He grinned, turning off on an exit even though I hadn't directed him to do so. "I went in college. …Do you want some coffee?" I just looked at him in surprise, but without waiting for a response he steered us into drive-through. He rolled his window down as a tinny voice welcomed us and asked us what we would like.

"Can I get two large coffees… one black and one…" He turned to look at me.

"Sugar."

"And one with sugar please. And then…" He perused their menu, briefly. "Two peach muffins, please."

I frowned as he drove us forward, digging his wallet out of his back pocket with some difficulty. "…What if I don't like peach muffins?"

He did his side-of-the-eye glance again. "You told me last night that you loved Peach Muffins. Especially if they came with the sugar on top. …I happen to know for a fact that they make them like that, here."

He passed the young girl money while I narrowed my eyes, trying to remember telling him any such thing. I couldn't. He chuckled. "You told me a lot of things last night, Sara."

I blushed at that. I remembered telling him a lot, but something about his tone implied that I'd given more away than I wanted to. Within minutes we were driving again and Vegas was talking around bites of his muffin and drinks of his coffee, telling me about all the butterfly specimens he'd collected when he'd been in the rainforest, detailing specifically those which had not been endangered at the time he collected them, but were now—commenting both on how lucky he felt that he'd gotten the specimen at the time and on how he was torn, because he felt partly responsible for said endangerment.

I grinned, knowing full well that the massive deforestation of the rainforests were having a far greater impact that he could even if he spent his whole life down there trying to collect as many rare specimens as he could, but liking his concern all the same. …When I talked to Jace about animal rights and environmentalism and vegetarianism—I hadn't converted yet, but I'd been seriously considering it for months—he mostly got irritated that I was bringing it up again.

When he pulled up outside our apartment, I had the strangest urge to invite him up for a more substantial breakfast and more coffee, simply because I didn't want the conversation to end. …This was exactly the opposite of how I'd felt this morning. I swallowed, shaking my head, trying to get ahold of myself. I was acting so… out of character, and I didn't know what to do with it.

"Thanks… for the ride and… the coffee and the muffin and… and all the drinks last night and… for taking care of me."

He smiled softly. "I… I don't know if this is pushing things, but… Can I have your phone number or… an email… something to keep in contact with you? I mean… even if you marry this guy…" At my raised eyebrow, he smirked. "Okay… when you marry this guy… It still couldn't hurt to have a professional reference, right? A friend who knows the business… who knows someone in all the major labs in the country…"

And I couldn't help it—I grinned. "…Sure. You got a pen and paper?"

He looked around his car, suddenly desperate, and came up with a pen but no paper. I chuckled and fished in my bra, pulling out the stack of bills I'd won from him the night before and choosing a hundred dollar bill. "If I give this to you… you can't ever give it away, you know. I don't want just anyone having this information."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you're worth more than a hundred dollars I didn't think I'd ever see again…"

I chuckled, scrawling both my telephone number and email on the bill and passing it to him. "Thanks again… Vegas."

"Gil." He corrected me. "Call me Gil."

I got a strange sense of déjà vu at his words, but still smiled. "…Okay. Thanks again… Gil."

I slid out of the car and hurried up to our apartment, glancing back just once, right before I slid in the door, to see him still watching me from his rental car. I waved, uncertainly, and moved inside, closing the door behind me and sinking to the floor.

...What on earth was I doing?