Note: It's Chapter Two! I wasn't originally intending to make this a WIP, but I've had so many reviews asking for more that I figured I was obliged to do just that :) so here it is! Breakfast. chapter two. Thanks to everyone for your super support!

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"How can you see into my eyes, like open doors,

Leading you down into my core

Where I've become so numb...

Without a soul, my spirit sleeping somewhere cold

Until you find it there and lead it back home..."

Sara looked over at Grissom from across the grease-coated table. He seemed to be particularly absorbed with his omelette - examining it like he would a film container full of pupae. She could tell he was lost in thought, unaware of her piercing stare, absorbed in his own mind like he so often was. She frequently desired to know exactly what it was that he was thinking, but she supposed that she would have to settle for his less-than- frequent surface emotions.

Sara had barely touched her own vegetarian omelette. They both sat in silence, awkward and unsure of what to do or say, yet still wearing nervous smiles. The brunette desperately wanted to cut through the stillness that hung over them like a cloud. Surprisingly, though, it was Grissom who first spoke.

"Sara... um," he said, anxiety emanating from his voice, "I'm sorry about Hank."

Sara grinned. So he did know about it. That must have been what Catherine told him.

"I'm sorry too," Sara replied simply, jabbing at her mutilated omelette, imagining Hank's piggy face - those green pepper eyes, that pineapple grin... that bastard.

"He had no right to treat you that way," Grissom offered, attempting empathy.

Sara found it near impossible to conceal her gap-toothed grin. From any other man, that line would have been clichéd and unemotional, but she knew Grissom was not just any man. She was so used to the Gil Grissom that had the emotional capacity to play a "dead corpse on slab" that this was a surprising and extremely amusing change.

Looking up to meet his gaze, Sara allowed herself a small smile.

"No, he didn't," she responded, gazing into his eyes. He smiled caringly, catching her off guard. She tried embarrassedly to blink away the miniscule droplets forming in the corners of her eyes.

"That bastard," she muttered to herself nervously, not sure whether her insult was directed to the inexcusable actions of her ex, or the unforgivable weakness that Grissom's affection had exposed in her.

That was when she felt his hand on her knee, consoling her gently. Sara started, causing his hand to retreat and his eyes to look away from hers. She immediately cursed herself for her jumpiness.

"Sara, we don't have to be here if you're... not comfortable," Grissom said slowly, carefully choosing his words. He didn't want her to leave, god no. He wanted to be touching her again, absorbing her incredible warmth through his eager fingertips, run his hands through her long, chocolate hair, and -

She brought him out of his trance by placing her own hand on his knee underneath the table. He looked up at her, bug-eyed and excited simultaneously.

"Grissom, it's taken us three years to go out for breakfast," Sara stated, making him shift uncomfortably but not break eye contact, "there's... no way in hell I'm leaving now."

The last of her truthful statement was uttered so flatly that Grissom was unsure what reaction to make. That was when Sara broke into a wide grin. Grissom stared disbelievingly at her for a moment before he smiled as well, making them both laugh. Sara smiled because these brilliant bouts of laughter were always interrupted by piercing stares from both sides of the table. Grissom laughed because he hadn't in so long that it was quite difficult to stop. When the two of them slowed, and then finally halted, they were left with the expected gaze.

Sara placed her hand on top of his, squeezing his fingers lightly, grinning from ear to ear.

Grissom bit his lip to stop from smiling, rubbing her knee tenderly.

"I'm glad you invited me," Sara said softly.

"I'm glad I did, too," he replied.

That was when Grissom's pager went off, interrupting the moment entirely. Sara smiled awkwardly, pulling her hand away from her supervisor's. Grissom swore violently under his breath, remembering the night he had invited Teri Miller out to dinner and the exact same thing had happened. Teri had been a brilliant, beautiful, clever woman, so naturally her and Grissom couldn't have lasted, because he was married to his job. Now he sat across from the most beautiful, most wonderful female in the entire galaxy, and prayed that she wouldn't walk out on him.

"Excuse me," Grissom said angrily, though his anger wasn't directed towards her. Sara nodded quizzically and he turned away from her to flip open his cell.

"Hello?" Grissom nearly demanded, inwardly furious at the invading call. After all, he was off - work was over for the night. There was no reason for him to be contacted unless hundreds of Marilyn Manson wannabes had committed mass genocide at the MGM grand.

"Grissom, it's Catherine," the disembodied voice on the other end replied, "why are you so ticked?"

Grissom's shoulders unclenched and he relaxed slightly. There was no point in getting mad at the blonde - she won every argument she'd even been a part of.

"I'm... having breakfast," he responded, and upon hearing the expectant pause at the other end, continued, "with Sara."

Grissom turned up to look at Sara and saw her eyes pop out almost completely. He smiled and reassured her by mouthing the word 'Catherine' in her direction. Sara got it and relaxed, grinning apprehensively.

"Huh," Cat replied, apparently thinking over the situation, "good job, Griss. It's about time."

He wasn't surprised - she'd been the one who had entered his office just a few hours earlier and laid out the Sara situation in such a simple way that even an antisocial chimpanzee would understand it. He realized he must have looked like a fool, staring wide-eyed at the demanding woman as she ordered Grissom to take control and seek out Sara.

"I know," he retorted kindly, "I know."

Grissom could almost hear Catherine smile victoriously on the other end of the phone.

"Don't you grin like that," he spoke into the receiver, causing the listener to break into laughter.

"I just called to tell you that Sara has got tonight off work, and... so do you," Catherine said clearly.

Grissom thought for a moment before replying, "Catherine, I don't have tonight off. I don't work tomorrow night."

Catherine rolled her eyes, though he couldn't see it through his phone.

"Now you do. Greg's covering for you, and I suspect it's going to be a slow night. If we need you two, we'll call you. Our resident spiky-haired DNA expert wasn't too pleased about the scenario, but I told him if he wasn't satisfied, I could always have him transferred to day shift completely. Interesting trivia - Greg Sanders fears Conrad Ecklie nearly as much as you despise him."

Grissom smiled, "Goodbye Catherine. Thank you."

He heard her laugh playfully and then the phone went dead. He hadn't stopped staring into Sara's eyes through practically the entire phone call, and when he hung it up, she was still there, her hand now entwined with his.

"Thanks for not leaving," Grissom said honestly, grinning.

Sara smiled, and her breathing became heavier. She gazed into his eyes, trying to memorize their sheer intensity. She felt like they pierced her soul, like he could read every one of her thoughts. These stares made her feel naked and exposed, but only to him, and it didn't bother her as much as it had before.

Holding his hand in that moment, Sara forgot about Hank. Her mind temporarily erased the growing mound of self-doubt inside of her, and she felt beautiful and appreciated. She could feel his gentle fingers caressing hers, reassuring her. They were both quite nervous and inexperienced for adults with previous relationships. This, to Sara, felt like her first date. She was giddy and self-conscious and... in love?

She was awoken from her dreamy stupor by Grissom's unsure voice.

"Do you want... a ride home?" He asked, both to Sara and to himself.

She thought about it for a very brief moment before replying.

"Only if you... stay with me," she said quietly, inwardly proud that she'd finally been able to push the words out.

Grissom looked surprised, probably because he was. He scanned the brunette's face for sarcasm, and there wasn't a trace. Apprehensiveness? Sure. Confusion? Most definitely. Should he go for it? Hell yes.

"Stay with you?" He asked, aiming to control his excitement.

"There's a special on the mating habits of moths today on Discovery," she smiled, "you know, they're a species dependant on symmetry as a form of attraction."

Grissom blinked, remembering that night under the overpass nearly a year ago.

"I've got widescreen," she offered, grinning.

"Alright," Grissom responded in a deadpan voice, "but only for educational purposes."

"Education is important," Sara smiled, squeezing his hand under the table.

They gazed at each other for another long moment before they were interrupted by the casino waiter asking if they wanted one check or two. Grissom naturally offered to pay, and Sara graciously accepted, hiding her smile. The waiter soon returned, and upon paying, the two scientists stood up and walked to the car, standing eagerly close to one another. Halfway there, Grissom spoke.

"Do you have an extra bed?" He asked, still unsure of the rules of her overnight request.

"No," she replied honestly.

"I suppose we'll have to share, then," Grissom responded, putting on his sunglasses as they stepped out of the back door and into the light.

Entering the car, Sara finally gave up trying to suppress her happiness. She felt the warm sun on her face, and momentarily was unbothered by the prospect of harmful ultraviolet rays. The sun was up in Las Vegas, which usually meant it was time for her regulatory four hours of sleep. Then she would rise and try to break into the lab for some overtime.

Maybe today she wouldn't go back to the lab. Maybe she'd spend today with Grissom. Her heart pounded again as she reached the car, and remembered how she'd felt approaching the Tahoe a few hours ago. Nervous, panicky, eager; all of the above. Sara had invited her boss to spend the day with her, and she couldn't be more worried. Did he want this? Was this right?

Grissom noticed Sara's edgy behaviour and wondered if this was something she wasn't ready for. He wasn't sure how to comfort her or meet her needs, so he pressed his knee against hers, feeling the heat emanating from her slender leg. Sara smiled at his gesture and relaxed slightly. Now her panic had turned to excitement.

She'd have to thank Hank. After all, if it wasn't for his sorry ass, Sara Sidle would not be in a car with Gil Grissom en route to her apartment, with the intention of spending the day there with him.

Hank had done one thing right by her - he'd given Grissom a perfect reason to console her and finally pursue their relationship. Sara didn't feel slutty bringing him back to her apartment. They'd known each other for so long that it felt like they'd been waiting an eternity to explore each other. It had all built up into this one day.

'Thanks, Hank,' Sara thought to herself, 'I owe you one.'

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End, chapter two. Want more? Leave a review, and tell me what you think! :)