Chapter 11 As they walked through the hotel, the night air had cooled their passion slightly, and an unspoken agreement of sorts

formed between them. Despite the fire that had coursed through their bodies,

Grissom and Sara knew that tonight wouldn't be the night. Tonight

would be a night for talking, and for falling asleep in each other's

arms, getting to know one another better in this new way, enjoying

it.

They entered Grissom's room. Sara sat on the bed, leaning back,

stretching and yawning loudly. Grissom smiled. "Did I put you to

sleep? I didn't think my company was THAT bad," he teased, flipping

on the TV and turning to the digital radio stations the hotel

featured. He settled on the `modern soft rock' channel and Sade's

soothing voice filled the room. `Think I'd leave your side, baby.you

know me better than that.' Sara grinned, her eyes closed, settling

into Grissom's pillow. "I love this song.Your company isn't that bad,

Grissom. Your bug lecture this afternoon, on the other hand; that put

me RIGHT to sleep." She tried to keep a straight face as she lay

innocently on the bed, eyes still closed. Before she knew it, Grissom

was beside her on the bed, his fingertips tickling the skin of her

belly exposed when she stretched her arms up. She giggled, trying to

pull her shirt down, yelling, "Stop! I take it back! Stop!" Grissom

relented, pinning her arms at her sides. Sara opened her eyes, taking

in the sight of Grissom above her, his shirt rumpled from their play,

a curl of hair falling out of place, his legs straddling her hips on

the bed. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at his eyes.

The blue irises she never tired of looking in were sparkling and full

of life, shining with happiness. A huge grin spread across Grissom's

handsome face, and he looked as if he didn't have a care in the

world. "What?" he asked, his voice soft as she stared at

him. "Nothing.I just didn't picture us like this.I never thought of

you as the type to tickle and wrestle. It was so normal.so much fun."

She tried to shrug, a difficult task while lying flat with her arms

pinned at her sides, and hoped he understood what she was saying. He

did. Releasing one of her arms, he stroked her face with one hand,

then cradled her cheek. "What can I say. You bring out the best of

me, Sara Sidle. You bring out things I never knew I had." His face

closed in on hers, taking her in.

They kissed for some time. Wanting to savor the evening, Grissom

forced himself to stop before they reached the point of no return. He

moved his lips to Sara's cheek, then pulled her to him in a fierce

embrace. Trusting him, Sara was content to lay her head on his chest

as they pulled out of their embrace. She listened to the rise and

fall of his chest, enjoyed the feel of him as a pillow. She tucked her head

under his chin, and Grissom once again breathed in the scent of her,

thinking he'd like to personally thank the makers of whatever shampoo

she used, and willed his anatomy to relax. Sara wasn't helping

matters any by tracing lazy circles on his stomach with her index

finger, sending shivers down his body, so he took her hand and laced

her fingers with his. They lay in silence for awhile, listening to

the music and enjoying the warmth of being together. Sara almost

startled Grissom by interrupting the moment. "Grissom, can I ask you

something?" "Mmmm." She rubbed his hand with her thumb. "Have you

really made peace with losing your hearing? Are you frightened, at

all, by the prospects?..." She felt him swallow, his Adam's apple

right next to her ear. It was a strangely erotic sensation, but she

concentrated on his answer, turning her face towards his to watch him

speak. "I don't know, Sara. I mean, I feel at peace with it; this is

what my body has decided to do. My ears are simply obeying what

they've been told to do, what's been determined by genetics. I think

I'd be an idiot if I wasn't scared a little, but...at least now, I'm

not going through it alone." She smiled. "Were you planning on not

telling anyone?" He looked at their entwine fingers, studying

them. "I thought I wanted to go through it alone. I've been alone my

whole life, Sara. I don't know any other way. I've always lived in

silence, lived in my head." Her forehead crinkled in sympathy and she

caressed his neck with the hand resting behind his head. "But I'm

glad I had to tell you. I wouldn't want anyone else to know, right

now. It just...feels right." She rewarded him with her gap-toothed

grin, then her face turned serious again. "So...are you going to have

the surgery?" He swallowed, again. "More than likely. I'm just

waiting for the word from my doctor." She wrapped her arm across his

chest and hugged him, as if she was trying to fuse some of her own

strength to his soul. He smiled, touched, and kissed the top of her

head. "You're so wonderful, Sara." She scooted up slightly, so her

head was next to his. "It's so...crazy." "What?" he circled his arms

around her, nuzzling her cheek. "This...life. The unfairness of your

disease, of life, the things that happen to the human body..." He

watched her eyes intently as she tried to explain what she wanted to

say. "I mean...we've seen so much, Grissom. Been through so much

together. We've seen just about every kind of pain that human beings

can inflict on each other, and then there are things like your

hearing, pain that the body inflicts on itself. And then, there's

us...here, together, right now." She looked him in the eye,

searching. "How does this all...connect? How can I make any sense of

this?" He gave a half smile. "You mean...how do you relate you and I

to something scientific?" "Yes! Because...I understand human

behavioral science. I understand genetics. But this...this is so new.

And it seems, all of a sudden, like everything is so random. You

know?" He grinned. "'What does it all mean'?" "Yeah." She laughed at her own question. "Well...I'm not

a philosopher, Sara, I'm a scientist, just like you. And one of the

things science has taught me is that, no matter how much I'd like to

believe that everything is controlled by order, that everything

really is, just...random. We role with the punches, and try to be

prepared. And maybe, this is all that matters." "This....?" "This.

Finding someone to share...to share the journey with, to hold your

hand through genetics and violence. Maybe...being alone and living in

your own head isn't the answer." Sara felt tears stinging her eyes as

she touched him. "And we said we weren't going to think anymore

tonight." He laughed. "Sorry-I forgot." "It's OK. I'm guilty too. I

should have known; thinking is like breathing for you and I." He

kissed her, gently, a kiss reminiscent of promises, one that soothed

her and warmed her soul. Barely moving his face away, he

whispered, "Sara-will you do me a favor?" "You know I will." "If-when-

I have the procedure...will you be there when I wake up?" She closed

the short distance between their lips before answering. "I don't

know, I'll have to make sure it's OK with my boss. But if it's OK

with him, there's no where else I'd rather be on that day." Grissom

chuckled into her mouth. "Is your boss a real slave driver?" "Oh,

yeah. But I like him anyway." She teased.

They held each other, and Sara fell asleep in Grissom's arms. He

watched her sleep for awhile, held rapt by the fact that she was

there, with him. He watched her until he couldn't hold his own eyes

open, and reluctantly succumbed to sleep, which he was sure couldn't

hold any dreams better than this moment.

The next morning, the phone woke them. Half asleep and not

thinking whose room she was in, Sara crawled from under Grissom's

arm, mumbling "I'll get it," and answered the phone. "Must be my damn

wake up call," Grissom yawned next to her. "Hello?" she said

groggily. Silence on the other end, then "Sara?" In a moment, Sara

was fully awake. She looked at Grissom, her eyes wide as

saucers. "Uh...Catherine!...Hi!...." Grissom's jaw dropped open. "Oh,

no..." he groaned. Sara could hear the smirk in Catherine's voice on

the other line. "Hey, Sara! How's the conference?" "Um...really good.

How's everything there?" Her cheeks were bright red. Catherine was

trying not to laugh, she could tell. "Fine...hey, let me talk to

Grissom-if he's available, that is..." "Yes! Um, yeah-here he is."

Grissom ran a hand over his face and took the phone. Sara shrugged

helplessly, and Grissom made a gesture with his hand to assure her

that it was fine. "Hello, Catherine." He could hear her smile as

well, and blushed, knowing what she was thinking had gone on, but

kept his cool. "How can I help you?" he asked, business-

like. "Yeah...Hey, I'm sorry to call you on this line, but I tried

your cell, and I think something's wrong with your voice mail. You

might want to check it out. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know

that the casino case is moving fast. We'll probably have the guy in

for questioning by the time you guys get back. We've almost got

him." "Good. And...?" "Well, you said to keep you posted." "Yeah.

Anything else?" She chuckled. "I guess not. Have fun on your last

day, and I'll see you tomorrow night." "OK." He was impatient,

flippant. It amused Catherine to no end. "Well, I can understand

you've got...'things' you want to get back to, so..." "Is that all,

Catherine?" "Yep! Oh, and Gil?" "What?" "Nice work." She hung up,

leaving Grissom flustered. In Vegas, Catherine had a cat-that-

swallowed-the-canary grin on her face. Warrick was driving his Tahoe

and they where on their way to the casino to double-check a

surveillance tape. "What's up at the conference?" he asked casually.

Catherine just grinned at him, like a kid unable to keep a secret for

much longer, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, Warrick, wouldn't you like

to know." "Hey! C'mon, Cath, don't be like that!..." "Sorry, buddy,

my lips are sealed. But trust me, it's good." "Aww, man..." They

pulled into the casino parking lot.

In Colorado, Grissom replaced the phone in the cradle. Sara sat

next to him, biting her lip. "I'm so sorry, Grissom, I wasn't even

thinking..." He smiled, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "It's OK.

I've never cared what others thought of me, why should I start now?"

He cocked his head, smiling at her. "What?...Oh, god, I bet I look

like crap, sleeping in my clothes and make-up..." She got up and went

to the mirror, groaning at the site of one strand of hair that seemed

to be determined to stand on its own accord. Grissom joined her,

standing back and watching as she primped in the mirror, his hands in

his pockets. "Actually, I was thinking how beautiful you are." She

smiled, looking down. "That's sweet, but I don't feel beautiful. I'm

going to go get ready. Meet you in the hall in thirty minutes?" He

nodded, and watched her walk out his door. She looked over her

shoulder and smiled flirtatiously at him before she closed it, making

his heart skip like a child's. He went over the evening in his head.

It had all been so...unlike him, yet it felt like how he was always

meant to be.

Feeling something in his pocket, he pulled it out. It was Sara's

butterfly necklace. Grissom placed it on the dresser, then went to

the shower, an irremovable smile on his face.

Grissom and Sara enjoyed the last day of the conference

together. They attended many of the same presentations, wandered the

vendor hall-hand-in-hand-and enjoyed seeing the tools of their trade

together. The day passed by quickly, and soon they where leaving

the `farewell' reception together. They'd said goodbye to Kami, Dr.

Fuller, and Dr. Wordsworth, in his mismatched bow-tie and suspenders,

who had stopped Grissom to ask another question, and had watched the

couple proudly as they walked holding hands, not afraid to show their

relationship to their peers.

As they walked to the elevators, Grissom placed a hand

tentatively near Sara's butt. She grinned, enjoying it. There had

been an unspoken sexual tension building between them all day, and

Sara couldn't deny that her every spare moment had been filled with

thoughts of her final night with Grissom in the hotel room--and they

didn't involve just sleeping. She wanted him, badly. But doubts

filled her head. What if, she worried, he wasn't ready to take that

step tonight? Should they wait? What if this whole weekend was still

just a dream?... Sara slowed her pace slightly so his hand rested

nicely on her buttocks, and felt her doubts begin to melt away,

overcome with the need of being with him.

Grissom thrilled at the sensation. He'd been able to think of

little but making love to Sara all day, of their last night in

Colorado. But, worry filled his head. He wanted Sara to know how much

he cared for her, and didn't want to pressure her into something she

wasn't ready to do. Then he relaxed and gave into the pleasure of

wanting her as she allowed him to touch her. He smiled down at her,

and was reminded that no one would force someone as strong as Sara

into doing something she wasn't ready for. He quickened his pace to

the elevators.

As the floors passed swiftly by, Sara took it as her turn to

make a move. She faced Gil and placed one hand on his chest, pulling

his head towards hers with the other, and kissed him sensuously. He

took over quickly, surprising and exciting her with his

passion. "Gil..." she moaned as he leaned her against the elevator

wall."Are you fine with this?" he gasped, sliding his fingers under

her shirt, enjoying the coolness of her skin. She nodded. "Oh, yeah."

He smiled and slid his hand toward her bra, kissing her hard.

The elevator gave it's `ping' as it came to a stop, and they couple

hurried toward Grissom's room.

They eased onto the bed. Clumsily, they tried to unbutton each

other's shirts without breaking their lips contact. Somehow, they managed,

and Grissom felt dizzy at the site of her, the realization that the

moment was real. Sara went for the buckle of his pants, and moaned as

he unbuckled her bra. "Sara..." he gasped, "if you want me to quit,

just say the word, and I will. I want you, so much, but I...I...oh,

GOD..." She had removed his pants.he was in love with her hands and what they were doing. "Gil," she whispered, her voice

hoarse with passion as he helped her take of her own slacks, "don't

ever quit. Please." With a groan, he kissed her hungrily, letting his

hands take free will, reveling in her sounds of pleasure.