Okay, Okay, there IS a third chapter! Possibly more. How does it start? You'll just have to read on. I'd like to ALSO reiterate that I'm using these Evanescence lyrics without permission, but please don't sue me. They just fit with the story. :)

***

"I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems,

Got to open my eyes to everything..."

Sara Sidle suffered from morning amnesia. More accurately, it came as a great relief to her. Every morning she went through a similar routine, which began with a blissful nothingness - where she was aware of nothing, thought of nothing, felt nothing. That was quickly replaced with a wave of demanding questions that her overused brain had trouble answering in time, such as 'Where am I?', 'How did I get here?', and on this particular morning...

"Where are my pants?"

Grissom turned over to see the now awakened woman lying beside him. He, unlike his female companion, did not have morning amnesia, and was well aware of the situation. He smiled gently at Sara's shocked expression, her eyes subtly darting back and forth to try and decipher the current scenario.

She was in bed. In bed. With Grissom.

Suddenly it came rushing back, as it always did - the stale omelette, the excruciatingly long car ride to her apartment, the brief but awkward silence that had quickly been filled with passionate kisses. She remembered the frantic grasping for buttons and zippers, the nervous laughter and the incredible stares, the moment, when it came, where Sara's swollen lips hovered millimetres from Grissom's as they seemed to share a single breath between them...

"Oh," Sara blurted, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Yes it was," Grissom replied, smiling and reaching up to stroke back a rogue strand of her chocolate-coloured hair.

"Did we?" She asked, though she truthfully did not need confirmation.

"We did," he answered, his smile fading slightly, "Are you alright?"

Sara thought for a moment. She thought about all of the reasons this was wrong. The obvious ones first - He was her boss, the wide age difference, they worked together - and then the less obvious - We only had breakfast together, he can't possibly understand what this means to me emotionally, I just broke up with a lying scumbag so I was possibly just in need of any form of love and he was the first person I found - and came to a conclusion.

"Oh yes," Sara replied, causing Grissom's adoring smile to return. She returned the grin, and he leaned forward and pressed his warm lips against her forehead. Feeling the static charge that came when his lips soon grazed across hers, a shiver spread down her bare back, causing her to giggle embarrassedly. Grissom had never heard Sara giggle.

The brunette leaned back against the pillow and surveyed the room. She hadn't seen much of it the night before, as she'd been buried in Grissom's face and chest and - well, suffice it to say, she'd been otherwise occupied. It was a very nice room, with neatly painted white walls and glass jars full of peculiar things everyplace. Sara smiled, because this was exactly how she'd always pictured his dwelling place. It was surprisingly neat, in comparison to his office, which was strewn with books and bottles and blood samples, but still she shuddered when she saw a large mason jar filled with cockroaches.

Sara felt Grissom's arm behind her head, supporting her and filling her with calm reassurance. She looked over at him again, and found him to be gazing at her back and shoulders with a keen interest. She smiled knowingly at him.

"It was good," Grissom offered, sensing Sara's obvious confusion.

Sara chuckled and playfully nudged him in the ribs, but he blocked her elbow and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, entranced by her melodious laughter. Sara looked downward and then up into his eyes. She noticed his dishevelled curls and her heart skipped a beat. It had been good.

"Yes, Grissom, I remember that much," she breathed, inches from his glowing face. A cool breeze wafted in through an open window, soothing her dry skin. Sara needed a moisturizer badly, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You don't have work tonight," Gil said, grinning.

"Neither do you, or so I'm told," Sara smiled, running a finger through his curly greying hair.

"What would you like for dinner?" He asked, privately smiling at the strangeness of the sentence. Most people had breakfast afterwards, but Grissom? No, he had dinner. For him, and Sara, it was the evening after, rather than the morning.

"I don't care, as long as... I don't have to cook," Sara replied, wincing slightly as she tried in vain to sit up. This action made Grissom smile with macho pride, a smile that only played across his face on a very few occasions.

"I can make stir fry," he offered again, and on Sara's raised eyebrow, continued, "vegetarian stir-fry. With vegetables."

Sara grinned mischievously.

"It helps if you put vegetables in vegetarian food. Sort of fulfils the objective of it being vegetarian," she retorted, grinning.

Grissom's face reddened slightly. He always lost his words around her, but this situation was entirely different. Today he'd gotten to touch her in ways that only a privileged few ever had. He'd earned the opportunity of giving her (hopefully) bliss, and once that was accomplished, he was rewarded by being able to bask in her radiant afterglow. Grissom never wanted to stop holding her, but that was, in truth, his punishment - he'd soon have to stop holding her, but that wasn't to say it would be the last time...

He leaned over and kissed her, pressing his nervous lips against hers. She kissed him back, savouring the feel of his intense burning heat.

Grissom pulled away from her unwillingly and stood up, grabbing a green bathrobe adorned with tiny spiders. Sara emitted that peculiar giggle again; she was quite amused that such a serious and intelligent man would own such a comical item of clothing. Of course, Greg was a forensic genius and he still had that obscure hairstyle.

Sara searched for her clothes and found them scattered across the floor and hanging from various chairs and hooks. After locating her pants, finally, she asked Grissom where his washroom was located. He smiled and pointed down the short hall and to the left. Standing up, the breeze hit Sara at full strength and caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end and she shivered. Grissom chortled with amusement and she glared at him, scurrying down the hall and into the washroom, locking the door behind her.

"You can't hide in there forever, Sara," Grissom laughed light-heartedly.

"I can try!" She replied, emitting a small laugh herself.

Sara heard his voice trail as he headed into the kitchen to procure nourishment. Her laughter died slightly as she viewed herself in the mirror. A thousand thoughts bounced off each other in her head. She felt like throwing up and holding a grand parade at the same time. Sara felt nervous, confused, overjoyed, dazed and excited in unison. Breathing deeply, she tried to settle her racing pulse and assess the situation. Her scientific mind was doing battle with her love-filled heart.

Eventually, she came to a certain conclusion. This was not at all helpful, of course, because she was naked and being served dinner in her boss' house. Sara cringed. That didn't sound like the stuff of romance novels - not that she'd ever had the patience to read an entire one. They were so full of fluff and scientific impossibilities that Sara thought them irrelevant and pointless.

She heard Grissom's voice drift in through the bathroom door and realized she still hadn't dressed.

"Stir fry! With vegetables!" He called to her.

Sara dressed herself quickly and looked deep into the mirror, thinking hard about what would be the appropriate scientific reaction to this situation. She could easily thank him for an entertaining day and be on her way, but that would not at all have the satisfying result she was looking for. On the other hand, she could stay here and spend the night (for once, actually at night) with the man she was quickly falling in love, not to mention in lust with.

She decided on the latter.

After all - who was Sara Sidle to resist vegetarian stir-fry?

***

End, Chapter the Third! More? Sure! Encouragement is always welcome, though. :)