A big thanks to WalkerTRngr for beta reading for me!

Thank you all for the reviews

"I have an idea." He told Sara. "Ten letter word for pharmacy."

"Apothecary. What's your idea?" She didn't even look up from the book she was reading on the couch.

"You said you wanted to get away for a few days for us to just be… us." He filled in the word.

"That would be nice, yes."

"I was thinking."

"You like to do that." She teased.

Grissom's mouth twitched. "If we both took off at the same time, it would look suspicious."

"Yes."

"It's only the beginning of May. Do you think you could max out on overtime in about twenty days?"

"You know I can." She looked up from her book and was now investing herself in the conversation.

"If I put in for leave tonight… but you max out on overtime…"

She smiled, "You can tell me you're making me take vacation time… again."

"Yes."

She set her book down and leaned over the arm of the chair. "Any place in particular you think I should take this forced time off?"

He set his crossword down. "I have a couple of ideas. It depends on whether you want isolation or city living?"

"I'm game for either. What were you thinking?"

"Well, Zion National Park is two and half hours away. We could go camping. Or we could go to Mesquite. Both are far enough away we shouldn't run into anyone we know, but close enough that if we need to get back…"

She tilted her head. "Eh… I like the idea of going camping. It's been a while since I've done that and Mesquite feels too much like Vegas."

He smiled, that's what he was thinking too, "I'll make the reservations and we'll just have to figure out where we put the camping gear and make sure we have everything."

Sara smirked, "You know, no one is going to believe I willingly wanted to take off… I'll have to dust off my acting chops from that one semester of theatre I took at Berkley." She winked.

"Mmm…. yes."

Brass was shot. As Grissom drove to the hospital, he tried to figure out how they got here. One minute they were investigating a man, Willie Culter, for the death of his wife and his coworkers. The next Jim was stepping into a hotel room where Cutler held a woman hostage.

It started with a possible domestic dispute gone wrong. Given Sara's history, he thought it was best he brought Warrick with him instead. Given the crime scene, he ruled out domestic violence pretty quickly, so had no qualms bringing in Sara once he left with the body.

When in the preliminary autopsy, Doc Robbins asked him if he'd ever been close to getting married. Not wishing to bring up his College girlfriend, or admit that Sara was the closest he'd ever been, he told him about the girl he proposed to in second grade. She liked bugs too. His seven-year-old brain thought that made her perfect.

When they tracked Cutler to the traveling agency he worked for, they found all his coworkers dead, and him hiding with a bullet graze on his arm, they quickly realized was fake. He'd said his brother Sammy did it, and when he took the girl hostage, he demanded his brother be brought to him.

The situation was bad enough. Brass was in a locked room with a hostage and a man with a gun. But it got ten times worse when Sara rushed into his office, "Griss? You got to see this. I found it on the internet."

Grissom grabbed the paper she handed him. It was an obituary for Samuel Cutler. He looked at her in horror. They were looking for a dead man. He called Brass immediately, "Jim? Sammy Cutler's dead. He died in a car crash in Mexico two months ago. Willie had to know. He's been playing us."

"I got it, yeah. Thanks." He hung up.

Sara was still with him when he received the call a minute later.

Culter shot Jim Brass.

He arrived at the hospital, with his copy of the papers Jim had him sign, minutes after the ambulance, but wasn't allowed back. So he waited, and Undersheriff McKeen joined him shortly before the surgeon came to talk to him. "Captain Brass was shot twice. First bullet lodged in his vest. Second entered through his axilla, hit an artery, and is lodged near his heart. He's has internal hemorrhaging."

"Any neural damage?" He asked.

"We won't know until we stop the bleeding. If we stop it." He paused. "Have next-of-kin been notified?"

"For, uh, medical purposes, I have his power of attorney."

The surgeon nodded. "You may have a decision to make. I'll let you know." He turned and left.

Grissom's phone started ringing, and he answered it without looking. It was Sofia. After he got off the phone, he turned to McKeen, "DB in Henderson on the train tracks."

McKeen understood, "I'll take the first watch. You go to work." Grissom gave him the papers to give the staff when they came pack, knowing they would need proof before he was allowed to make any decisions.

Honestly, he was grateful for the distraction when he arrived on scene. Nick and Sofia were already there. He looked at the body and saw it was missing a head and had an impossibly small waste. As much as he appreciated Nick was already there, it was Sara he wanted… so it was Sara he called after he sent Nick out to scout for the missing head.

When she arrived, his mind seemed to ease. He didn't feel like he had to talk with her if he didn't want to. He knew she wouldn't ask questions or expect him to update her after every phone call. She was just there, doing her job next to him, doing his… and he took great comfort in that.

When he was back at the hospital, the surgeon told him Brass was critical. He also told him they needed a decision on whether to go in and retrieve the bullet. He said either option ran a significant risk of complications. And as he told the doctor to do the surgery, he wondered who would make that decision for him. His mother? She knew little about medical procedures and would make the decision she could live with, not what was best for him or what he wanted. He had no one else, unless he picked someone else… like Brass asked him. Someone he knew would do what he wanted.

He called Ellie, but she didn't answer, so he left a message. Grissom doubted she would show, but he knew Jim would want her there. He ran back to the lab for updates and on a hunch give Heather a call. She didn't answer, which didn't surprise him. He tried reaching out after her arrest, but she didn't return his calls. He'd heard from Brass that they dropped the charges against her. Knowing the best chance of getting a response, he laid out what he saw on the body to her in the voicemail he left and hoped she'd listen.

He found himself back at the hospital with Greg there instead of McKeen. Ellie showed up by making a scene at the front desk, angry that someone else gave consent for the surgery other than her, and then equally mad that he wouldn't give her access to Brass's house. She stormed out of the hospital. He rather got the impression that she didn't care.

He was on the way back to the lab when Heather called him; she kept it professional and answered his questions but hung up before he could ask how she was doing. He was sitting in his office in one of the guest chairs, researching the lead Heather gave him, when Sara walked in. The first time he'd seen her since the crime scene several hours ago.

"How's it going? You okay?" She asked him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her, "I'm okay." And he meant it.

For a moment she looked at him, assessing whether he was telling the truth. Deciding to believe him, she looked down at the book he was reading on male corseting in the Victorian period.

"That's a ... man in a corset."

"Corset-training. A venerable practice." He amended.

"Maybe for Scarlett O'Hara. Since when was it equal opportunity?"

"In Victorian times, it was considered a staple of masculine attire. Students in British boarding schools were encouraged to lose an inch a year from the time they were 14 on."

She took a breath and sat down in the other guest chair. "I guess I should feel comforted that sadistic ideas of beauty aren't restricted to women."

"Mmn." He flipped the page to show her a picture of a man with a tiny waist, "It's called a wasp-waist, which is revealing. A wasp is from the insect group hymenoptera. The notion of hymen indicates virginity. In predacious wasps, the genitalia no longer function as a reproductive organ. It's used as a stinger."

"Go in for sex and get stung. Pretty much every man's fear." She teased lightly.

He nodded, "Mm…" They looked at each other for a moment, and he wondered if she was thinking about how that had been one of his fears with her, for so long. Now… not so much. Grissom reminded himself that they were working on case. "The victim was shot, body dumped, clothes burned."

She handed him a file. "The corset, too. The bone fragments that Nick found at the crime scene were whalebone, which is what they used to make corsets out of… Where did you learn so much about corsets?"

"I have my sources." Grissom answered, figuring she wouldn't appreciate learning he talked to Heather. They never really talked about Heather after she was arrested.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not falling for it. "How is Heather?" She asked, calling him on his attempt at evasion.

He shrugged, "I don't know. She only answered my call because I told her it was case related and hung as soon as she answered my question."

She let out a large breath, "Well… we all process trauma differently. I waited twenty years… blew up at work and had a meltdown in front of my boss….. she's just choosing the much healthier way of shutting everyone out after whipping a man near to death." Her tone was light, but Grissom saw it for what it was. An attempt to distract him.

"Well… one would argue that your way worked out in the end though." His eyes drifted to her lips.

"Mmm… I think it worked out pretty well too." She waited a beat and smiled. "I'll check out corset shops and see if we get an ID."

"Sounds good."

As she walked away, Grissom realized that in the year they've been together, Sara told him she loved him five months ago, and he still hadn't figured out how to say the words in return. She came in here, really for no other reason than to sit with him for a moment, make sure he was okay, and make him feel better. Just another way of her saying, I love you.

With Brass being in surgery after being shot, it was a hard and fast reminder he might not have tomorrow to tell her how he feels.

She deserved to know he loved her, too.

Thirty minutes later, she called him and told him they had an ID and wanted him to meet them at his house. His name was Caleb Carson. When he arrived, Sofia told him Warrick called her from the hospital. They got the bullet, but he still hadn't regained consciousness. All they could do now, was wait.

Mr. Carson obsessed over the Civil War, and everything about it. His house looked like a museum dedicated to the South. The prints on his second corset led to a man named Gregory Kimble, who was Mr. Carson's driver and dresser. He told them that Carson was into Civil War recreations and had a duel recently. So he, Sara, and Sofia went to the battlefield. They talked to the man whom he dueled; it was meant to be a fake dual, but Carson actually shot the victim and intended to kill the man… for talking on the phone with his wife.

Sofia stayed to talk to him while he and Sara went to the dueling grounds.

"Should I challenge you to dual? I don't think I can find a white glove but I've got a latex one I can smack you with." Sara teased and pulled out her camera.

He raised an eyebrow and lifted his camera up too, "Your challenge is accepted, my dear."

They moved to stand back to back. "Ready?" She asked.

He raised his camera to the ready, "Ready."

They counted off from one to ten together. When they shouted, "Ten!" They whirled around to snap each other's photo. Sara was a moment faster than him. He grinned at her. She returned it. It was slightly foolish, but it made him feel good.

After a moment, they both looked down to see what they found in their areas.

Sara shouted to him, "I got blood drops. Heading away from Mr. Carson. Consistent with the duelist's story."

Grissom looked down at his area to find a large pool of blood. "I got something here, too. This could be the blood that we didn't find at the train tracks… it's a lot of blood." They both kneeled down to take their photos. "Maybe Carson was killed here?" They set to work processing their areas and taking samples.

When they got back to the Denali, Grissom sighed. He reached over the console, grabbed Sara's hand and said, "Thank you." Thank you for being there for me. For a moment, Grissom was reminded how, not to long ago, Sara seemed to be filled with such chaotic energy and knew no rest. And now… she is here, being a source of calm and peace that I need.

She gave him a small smile and her eyes lit up, "That's what I'm here for."

Grissom wished they weren't at risk for being seen right now. He didn't know where Sofia was, but man—he wanted to kiss Sara. To feed off her and show her how much he appreciated her presence right now.

When they were back at the lab, Sofia came to talk to him about Ellie. She was causing problems and was already asking about Jim's pension and wondering how much it was and if she was a beneficiary. She offered to have Ellie run out of town. Grissom told her no, that he would handle it.

Shortly afterword, Sara and Sofia brought Mr. Kimble back in, and he admitted that he accidentally shot Carson. They were fighting over the gun because Carson was going to shoot the man he was dueling, again. The gun went off. He later moved his body to the tracks because Carson spoke of his ancestor dying trying to stop a train coming into a town and considered it an honorable way to die.

While Sofia and Sara were at PD with Kimble, Grissom was at Brass's office where he had Ellie brought to. He wanted her to see her father's office. To see that Brass kept a photo of her on his desk, that Brass thought about her every day. Her response was to ask if he thought it was better for him to never wake up.

"You can't make anything better, if you're dead." He told her. He didn't know if it had the desired effect he wanted, or if he got through to her at all. But when he offered to drive her back to the hospital, she took it.

Just as they arrived, Brass started coding. They all watched as the nurses and doctors worked to bring Brass back. Ellie grabbed onto his sleeve, terrified.

They brought him back and stabilized him. Brass opened his eyes for a moment and stared out at them. Grissom watched as he moved his arm and shakily reached out to Ellie, he suspected. But when Grissom turned to look at her, she was already long down the hallway. All Grissom could do, was frown. He hoped his friend remembered seeing her here, that in the end, she was there for him—at least a little. Before he fell back asleep.

After that, everyone came to the hospital. He remained stable, and when he woke up again, they removed the tub in his throat. They only let Grissom in to talk to him, and only let him stay in for a minute.

Brass greeted him groggily, "Hey."

"Hey. Have some water." Grissom held up a cup with a straw so he could drink.

"Thanks for not pulling the plug."

"Your, uh, fan club is here." He moved out of the way so Brass could see the team, and Doc Robbins staring back at them. Everyone of them, happy to see that he survived. Grissom thought, Let this be the family that matters. But he didn't say a thing.

He walked out a moment later, and the doctor came over and talked to him. Everyone crowded around. "Now that he is awake and off the ventilator, we have every hope of recovery. We will keep him in ICU until we're sure he is doing well, but we should be able to move to med-surg in about a day or two."

Grissom nodded, "Thank you."

As the doctor walked off, he looked at everyone, but his eyes sought Sara. Once his gaze landed on her, he let out a sigh of relief. After everything, all he wanted was to be home with her right now.

"I think we should let Brass get some sleep. We can come back and see him tomorrow." He told them.

On his way out of the hospital, his phone chimed. He pulled it out. My apartment is closer.

He nodded to the phone and typed, Yes. Grissom drove there on autopilot, having done it so many times in the past year. He told himself he would tell Sara he loved her when he saw her. That he shouldn't waste another minute not telling her how he feels, but when he got there, neither of them spoke. The exhaustion of the past few days hit him like a ton of bricks.

Without so much as a word, Sara took his hand and led him to her bedroom. His eyes never left hers as she helped him strip out of his clothes one layer at a time. She guided him down on the bed and kissed him as she pulled the blankets around him. Grissom barely registered her arm coming around his waist from behind before he drifted off to sleep.

The next evening, he woke up and Sara had set of clothes out for him. Grissom jumped in the shower and tried to focus his thoughts while the water hit him. He told himself, this is the day, he was going to tell her when he got out of the shower. He would do it. He might not have tomorrow.

He opened the bathroom door and found Sara in the bedroom, sitting on the bed in her cream robe and her travel makeup bag in her hands. "Are you done?"

"Yeah."

Grissom watched her as she walked past him, but didn't shut the door. There was something about her in a robe that did things to him. The knowledge that only one little silk knot stood between him and being able to touch her soft, bare skin. It wasn't always about sex either. The more he touched her, the more he wanted to touch her. To hold her in his arms, to lay with her, to run his hands over her. There were days where his place was too hot with the rising heat of the desert sun and they went to bed naked, and he held her—naked skin to naked skin. In those moments his heart ached wonderfully.

She set about doing her makeup and hair while he dressed. When he was done, he laid on the bed, sort of facing the bathroom. He looked around her bedroom and realized they still hadn't packed up anything in this room. Her photos and knick knacks still cluttered her space. When he looked at her dresser, he frowned, knowing that a lot of her clothes were in boxes at his place while they were house hunting.

He told himself he needed to tell her, but when he opened his mouth to speak, something else came out. "I don't know. Most people want to die in their sleep, I suppose. Never know that it's happening. Like a crime scene. Surprise, you're dead. I'd prefer to know in advance that I was going to die. I'd like to be diagnosed with cancer, actually. Have some time to prepare….Go back to the rain forest one more time. Re-read 'Moby Dick.' Possibly enter an international chess tournament."

Sara walked out of the bathroom, and towards him.

"At least have enough time to say goodbye to the people I love." He told her.

She kneeled down next to the bed and reached out to him as she gave him that smirk he loved, "I'm not ready to say goodbye."

Grissom smiled, Tell her now. Now! He opened his mouth and said, "I want you to have a medical power of attorney for me."

She pulled back in surprise, but relaxed. "Okay, but if you get shot. I'll make you pay for it."

He grinned at her, "I'd expect nothing less." Tell her now.

"We'll both sign papers. If anything happened to me, you're the only one I'd trust to decide."

He nodded, "Yes." Tell her!

She stood up and moved onto the bed. He rolled onto his back as she moved on top of him. His hands eagerly found their way to the tie on her robe. After he pulled it loose, she stilled his hands with her own.

She leaned over him and met his gaze, her eyes sober. "I love you, Gil."

He didn't break her gaze. His hands moved to frame her face, and brought her down to him. He gave her a tender kiss.

When he pulled away, he opened his mouth. "I… I love you."

Sara gasped, and her eyes glistened with fresh tears as she smiled.

He pulled her down on him and kissed her again. When she opened her mouth to let him, he rolled them over and settled in between her thighs. He set about showing her with his body, what he found it so hard to say with words.