SUNDAY

The last months had sent him into a spiral. Gil Grissom was used to death. It didn't really scare him. It hadn't scared him for many years. For his entire adult life he'd felt at peace with his own mortality. And ever since his father had died in his sleep on the sofa when Gil was 9 years old, he had known that it could come at any time, for anyone. But lately he couldn't shake this feeling that death had moved had little too close too him, and what was worse, to the people he cared about. He sat in his office. The shift was over, and he was just trying to finish some paperwork, but couldn't really make his brain focus. His mind had drifted more and more lately. He felt lost, and he knew why.

He thought about Nick. About how if they had found him a few minutes later it would have been too late. And then about Sara. About what would have happened if nurse McKay hadn't turned up to distract Adam Trent, giving Sara a split second to knock him off balance and escape. He could have killed her. The weeks that followed the incident at the psychiatric ward he had been tormented by horrible nightmares. His mind played the same scene over and over again every night. Only in his dreams Adam Trent cut Saras throat instead of his own, and there was nothing he could do about it. Through that window he watched her bleed out every night. He was too late…

In his awake hours he spent more and more of his time daydreaming. He had never let himself go there before, not for too long or too often anyway. He had always been great at distractions. Work had always been his distraction from Sara, and he would throw himself into it with all he had whenever the thoughts of her became too much. Rollercoasters was his distraction from work. He had it all figured out. But lately, it had stopped working. Or rather, he'd stopped trying. He had let himself dream. Of her, of the two of them together, of a life with her. And where he'd stoppet himself throughout all these years, he now allowed himself to think that maybe it was possible after all. That maybe he could do what had seemed impossible only a few months ago. Maybe he could risk it all for a life with her. Maybe that was the only thing he really could do to save not only her, but himself.

He'd had this discussion with himself a million times. He'd told himself it was complicated, impossible even. But over the last months he had started to realize that maybe it was painfully simple. He was scared. He'd been scared since they met in San Francisco all those years ago. She had touched something within him that he hadn't even known existed. He had been pulled to her instantly, the smile, the ponytail, the questions. It hadn't taken him long to understand that he was in trouble with her. They had kept things platonic, and he'd told himself he could be her friend. And when he asked her to come to Vegas, he had told himself that he could be her boss. That it would make it easier even, because then being with her really wouldn't be an option. Because that would go against everything he is. He'd seen enough middle aged men in positions of power hitting on students and sub-ordinates throughout his years to know that was not who he wanted to be. That was never going to be him. The only problem was that his desire for her didn't go away with time like he expectet it too, it only grew stronger. And when she'd finally made it clear that she wanted more from him, his answer had been that he didn't know what to do about it. But that wasn't really true, was it. He had known exactly what to do, what he didn't know was how to do it. How to get around his own fears and insecurities. And prejudices….

He hated to admit it, but he did care what people thought about him. He'd always had the respect of his co-workers, and it pained him to think that they would see him in the same way he looked at those other men. He couldn't bear to be one of them. And then of course there was this fear of what would become of him if he did let her in, and it wasn't enough for her. What if it didn't work out... What would it do to him when she got tired of him and moved on to someone younger and better looking than him. Could he ever recover from that…

These thoughts had occupied too much space in his mind for so many years, and it wasn't until these last months he'd started to understand just how unimportant all of it was. For years he had strung her along, kept her close, then pushed her away when she got too close. Made her feel bad for trying to live her life when he rejected her, kept sending her mixed signals. All because he didn't know how to let her in, and he didn't know how to let her go either. He knew he had made it difficult for her. He had known all along that it wasn't fair, but he just hadn't been able to stop. And he knew that he may just have thrown away the best thing in his life. That now, it really could be too late… He knew he had to talk to her, to apologize, at least tell her that it had never been her fault that their relationship had been so complicated. It was him. It had always been him. She was the brave one, the one who had dared to bare her soul, to take that leap, and get her heart crushed. He was the one that had caused her pain, because that had been easier than risking his own heart.

«Hi…» he was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of her soft voice coming from the door to his office. «I've finished up in the lab, so unless you need me, I'll be heading home…» «Okay, I'm finishing up as well…» he answered. He wanted to ask her if she had time to talk, but nothing came out. His unspoken words hung in the air, and the last part of the sentence never escaped his lips. She said goodnight and before he could collect his thoughts, she was gone.

For a good 30 minutes he just sat there staring at his papers, without getting anything done. Then he threw the file in a drawer, grabbed his jacket and walked out into the daylight. The sun was already up, but the air actually felt crisp and refreshing for a change. He jumped in his Denali and swirved out of the parking lot. As he took a left instead of a right at the first intersection, he realized that there was no turning back now. No more excuses. He forced himself not to think about all the things that could go wrong, and focus on the one thing in his life he knew was right… Sara. He knew in his heart he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't do this. And if it was too late, it was too late. At least she'd know how he really feels, how he's always felt.

20 minutes later he parked in front of her apartment building. He could see his own hands shaking on the steering wheel. Afraid of what his mind would trick him into if he waited too long, he jumped out of the car and walked into the building, up the stairs, and stopped in front of her door. It struck him that he hadn't been there many times. The last time he was there was when Ecklie had told him to fire her. He had went there to talk to her. Not because he was considering doing what Ecklie wanted, but because he was genuinely concerned. Something wasn't right with her, and he'd ignored it for too long. He was her supervisor, and he should have dealt with it long ago. But whenever he asked how she was, she said she was fine, and he let it go. Even though he knew she wasn't. That was the first time he had pushed her for a real answer. He had refused to let her get away with rationalizations. He wanted to know why she was so angry. Not because he felt like he deserved an explanation, but because it scared him to see her like that. Sara had finally told him about how her mother killed her father. He had listened, and held her hand. It wasn't more than a little over 6 months ago, but it seemed longer. So much had happened since then. There had been something so intimate about their conversation that day. For the first time in a long time it had felt like there were no walls between them. They were just Sara and Gil, and for a few minutes the world around them didn't really exist. There was just trust and truth between them. Their relationship had turned a new leaf after that. Things had felt lighter and easier in a way. And it had given him an even greater sense of understanding and respect for her. She was stronger and braver than he'd ever been, and she inspired him in so many ways. And now, he needed every bit of strengt he could muster standing there, shaking as his saw his fist came up to knock two times on her door.

Sara barely heard the soft knock on the door as she was standing in the kitchen about to make herself a fruit smoothie before jumping into bed. She wasn't even sure if it came from her front door or if it was from one of the neighbours. Then she heard it again, and moved over to the door. When she leaned forward and looked through the peephole she saw him. Gil was standing there. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt and blue jeans. His fists were clenched and he looked uncomfortable, tired. Her first thought was that something had happened. There seemed to be a lot of that going around, and her heart skipped a beat as images of her colleagues ran through her head, hoping desperately nothing had happened to any of them. She opened the door and blurtet out "Gil, what's wrong?"

He had this whole speech prepared in his head, but as the door swung open and she was standing there in front of him, every coherent thought evaporated from his brain. He just stared at her, speechless. She was wearing a white plain t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants that clung to her body. Her hair was damp, and she had a ponytail. She was probably getting ready for bed… Unaware of how much time had passed he suddenly realized that she was talking to him and he was not responding. "Gil, whats wrong?" she repeated for the third time, half screamin at him. "Uhh… I am" he said slowly, not really aware of his own words. "I'm wrong… I've been wrong for a long time Sara…" he continued. He seemed distant at first, but then all of a sudden it was if something changed in him and his eyes met hers. It felt like they pierced right through her. They were dark ocean blue, penetrating, looking straight into her soul. Then he opened his mouth to speak again, but he couldn't find the words. He always did this around her, she had that effect on him. He never knew what to say, and often ended up saying nothing… "Is it too late, Sara?" he heard his own raspy voice as the words left his lips. "Am I too late…?" They stood there in the doorway looking into eachothers eyes and it took a few seconds for her to understand what he was really asking. Her thoughts flashed back to their conversation in his office almost 4 years ago. She had asked him to dinner. His answer had been a simple "no". She hadn't let it go, she had pushed, asked him why not. He had said he didn't know what to do about "this". But she had known, and she had told him that by the time he figures it out it really could be too late. And now he was here, asking her if it was…

Sara just stood there, trying to wrap her brain around what was happening, if he really meant what she thought he meant. Her mouth went dry and in lack of words, she slowly shook her head, to tell him that it wasn't. That it probably never would be. That no matter how many times she had tried to move on and let him go, she never could.

She took a step back as to invite him in. Without a word he followed her closing the door behind him, never taking his eyes off her. One more step brought him close enough to feel the heat from her body, close enough to touch her, to feel her breath on his face. He could feel his own heart beating so hard he was sure she could hear it. He carefully reached both his hands up to touch her face, feeling the softness of her skin, and seeing her cheeks flush as his fingers graced her perfect cheekbones. He desperately wanted to kiss her, to taste her, not just her lips, all of her. "Is this okay?" The question escaped his lips as a whisper, so soft and so tender, and yet so full of lust and desire. She didn't have to answer, her body answered for her. She instinctively closed the tiny gap that remained between them and kissed him, gently at first. She felt him harden against her body instantly. The thin fabric of her sweatpants left little to the imagination, and the feeling of his throbbing erection pressing against her had her soaking wet and aching for more in seconds. He deepend the kiss, grabbed her wrists and pushed her up against the wall in the hallway pinning her down with his own body. He'd dreamt of this exact moment so many times. He could still hear the words that had come out of her mouth a couple of years earlier; "Pin me down". They had worked a case together and she had wanted to prove a theory. He had pinned her down like she asked, and it had taken all he had not kiss her, not to rip her clothes off and go down on her. And now he could. So he did. He finally broke the kiss. Their breaths heavy. He looked at her, breathless, flushed and so incredibly beautiful. Without hesitation he grabbed the bottom of her white t-shirt and pulled it over her head. Just like he thought she wasn't wearing anything under it. He started kissing his way down her neck, across her chest and down to her left nipple. He caressed it gently with his tongue, as she moaned and threw her head back against the wall in pleasure. Sara returned the favour and rid him of his shirt. She loved seeing him like this. He was everything she had imagined and so much more. He placed a soft sensual kiss on her lips before he dropped to his knees in front of her dragging her pants and underwear down with him in one swift motion. Sara looked down at the man sitting on his knees in front of her. His curly hair, his scruffy beard, his strong arms holding on to her hips gently stroking her with his fingers. His eyes looked up at her as if they were asking her permission. She shot him a smile and nodded carefully. He startet out slowly, kissing her stomach, working his way down. Driving her crazy with every touch, every kiss, every lick. He started massageing her clit with his tongue, like he knew exactly where to go. It was as if he had studied her body in advance, the way he studies the evidence. And the light rub of his beard felt incridible against her skin. He kept going until she couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want it to end here, she wanted to come together with him, go over the edge with him inside her. "Gil" she moaned. "Bedroom…" He understood. He kissed a trail up to her hips, over her stomach and made a stop at her right breast before working his way slowly up her neck landing deep in her mouth. She could taste herself on his lips, his tongue, and that alone almost sent her over the edge. "I need you". Saras words as they broke the kiss sent a shiver through his entire body. His pants were so tight it physically hurt. Sara urgently grabbed his hand and led him into her bedroom. Seeing his tented jeans she quickly went to work on the buttons, finally releasing him. His pants dropped to the floor, and his boxers followed.

Standing in front of her bed Sara closed her right hand over his erection, slowly stroking it. Feeling the length of him in her hand was so incredibly intimate. He was so hard and so ready for her. She finally pushed him down on the bed, taking charge. She couldn't wait a second longer. She climbed on top of him, straddling him, slowly adjusting herself to take him in. He was big, and hard, but she was ready for him in every way. He let her be in charge for this part. He let go completely and took in the sight of her, naked, on top of him. When she slid down on him, there was no mistaking how incredibly wet she was, how incridibly wet he had made her. He didn't want it to end, but he knew he wouldt be able to last too long. They had both waited for this for what seemed like an eternity, and something was about to blow. So he reached one hand up to caress her breasts gently, and the other went to work at her clit. Trying to rub it with just the right pressure, to help send her over the edge along with him. He watched her riding him, trying to burn the image of her into his memory and lock it away forever. It didn't take very long before she came. He felt her tighten around his shaft as her orgasm ripped through her, and it sent him over the edge along with her.

It took a while before any of them spoke. For a few minutes they just laid there on their backs next to each other on her bed. It was Gil who finally broke the silence. He flipped over to his side, propping himself up on his elbow and looked at her. He ran his other hand down the length of her arm while taking a deep breath. «Are you okay, honey?» he asked, as his fingers reached her hand and locked in with hers. She turned her head to face him, and he knew. Her eyes said all he needed to know, and her smile backed them up. He drew her closer and draped the sheets over them, before they finally drifted off to sleep. No nightmares haunted any of them that night. And even though there would be many obstacles to overcome through the years that followed, none of them would ever regret finally choosing each other.