A/N Just a little bit of G/S fluff that got stuck in my head and needed to be let out. Hope you all enjoy!

It was the end of a long shift, and it looked as if they would need to pull another double. Las Vegas may be nicknamed the 'City of Sin,' but lately to the CSI's of the city, it seemed like the city of murder. Having just wrapped up their case, Catherine and Nick were heading out again, to a 419 in an SUV out by Lake Mead. Warrick was still out processing his own scene, looking for new leads, and Sara was trying to decide if driving home for what could potentially be either a half hour nap, or a 4 hour one, was worthwhile.

She and Grissom had been working a particularly difficult case, involving a triple murder in one of the green rooms of a very popular Vegas hot-spot. Ordinarily, they'd have had more help on the case, but with the seeming rush on crime that had been going on for nearly a week, it was just the two of them. The elusive manager/owner of the nightclub had finally granted the two of them an interview--for 'sometime' that morning. He'd brusquely informed them that he would let them know when he had the time to meet with them. It hadn't mattered to the man that his high-handedness would require the CSI's working his case to work a double shift, and chances are, he didn't care.

Sara cared, though, and she finally admitted to herself that if she let herself sleep in her own bed, she would at worst blow off the meeting, and at best be anything but at her sharpest. That having been decided, Sara next had to figure out where she could manage to sleep at CSI during the day. The day shift CSI's were in the break room, and the benches in the locker room were anything but comfortable. It looked like she wasn't going to be able to get any sleep. Sara winced as the noise level rose in the break room, and decided she would go find Grissom and see if he could give her something to work on to keep herself awake.

Grissom was at his desk as usual, file folder open before him, a look of concentration on his face. She stood there and studied him for a minute, before he noticed her at the doorway. Attuned as she was to his every mood, she noticed that he seemed particularly on edge this morning, and she noted with a wry smile that he hadn't gotten any more sleep than she had this past week. Sara lifted her hand to smooth her hair, wondering if her exhaustion was as obvious to him as his was to her. She doubted it.

Grissom was fighting off a headache, and the strain made it difficult for him to grasp what he was reading. As he re-read the same paragraph in the coroner's report for the third time, he noticed a movement at his doorway. Sara stood there, brushing her hair down nervously with one hand. She looked pretty tired, but he still thought she was beautiful. He watched her surreptitiously; her attention was elsewhere. He let his eyes travel over her face for a long minute, up to her eyes, which were fixed on a spot to his left. He followed her gaze, and saw that she was staring at the couch he kept in his office. Her gaze was almost hungry, and he realized that with the day shift going about their work, and normal business hours causing more activity in the headquarters than was typical for the night shift, she was probably wishing for a quiet place to catch up on her sleep. Grissom, too, had decided to stick around his office and try to get something done before the meeting they needed to be at. Sara was all caught up, though. He looked back down at the file he was perusing, and made a decision. He could find something to do for a few hours (if it took that long), and he would rather have an awake and alert Sara Sidle than a exhausted, burned out one.

"Sara, why don't you take a nap on my couch," he began, startling her. Sara blushed. She was ashamed to admit she had been daydreaming about doing just that. Of course, in her version, she wasn't the only one on the couch...

"No, no that's ok Griss," she said quickly, to stop herself from jumping at the suggestion. She doubted she could sleep with him in the room anyway.

"Don't argue with me--you're clearly exhausted." Grissom went over to her and led her gently to the comfortable piece of furniture. It was a testament to just how tired she was that she didn't argue further.

Sara realized that she was sitting on the couch, and was surprised that she'd allowed him to lead her over without protest. She had been worrying, irrationally, that she looked horrible when she was tired. As soon as she collected her thoughts, she stood up, quickly.

He had been expecting some kind of protest, but was pleasantly surprised when Sara had simply sat down without a word. He was about to offer her the blanket he kept in one of his cupboards when she stood up abruptly. He had been standing quite close to the couch, and her sudden movement brought them to within six inches of each other. Sara was so close to him that all he would have had to do to kiss her would be to move his head slightly. He wondered if she could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Sara had instantly realized her mistake. She was standing so close to him that she could feel his warmth through her thin shirt. She was frozen in place, unable to move even if she had wanted to. Their proximity was wreaking havoc on her senses--his breath fanning her face, his scent making her woozy, his heat warming her very core. Sara was afraid even to breathe, convinced that this moment was just a dream, and if she changed the conditions in the room even slightly, she would wake up. She closed her eyes to savor the moment, and then looked up, into his eyes.

The electricity in the room was palpable, and they both felt it instantly. For Grissom, it was as if the whole office around them melted away. The look in her lovely brown eyes could almost have been desire--mixed with...love? True to form, as soon as his brain registered the thought, he broke the gaze and moved away. He was glad of the task of locating that blanket, because he wasn't sure what his own eyes had been reflecting during that special moment. When he turned around, Sara was at the doorway again.

"Sara, really--I think you should sleep. I'm not even going to be in here," Grissom's heart stung a little as Sara's eyes lit up at his comment. "And I even found a blanket for you." he finished, lamely, holding up the object in his hand. She still didn't look quite convinced, so he said, "Come on, I know for a fact this is the quietest, most comfortable place to sleep."

Sara was out of reasons to object, and the blanket he held in his hand looked very soft. She offered him a slight smile, and took the blanket. It was soft, and she smiled widely at the thought of an actual restful nap for once. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the couch, her supervisor all but forgotten.

Grissom paused at the doorway, smiling at the angelic image Sara presented, curled up with his blanket, already asleep. He shut off the overhead light, having left a small lamp on in the corner so she could see to get up if she had to.

The blanket smelled like Grissom, and Sara clutched it to her in her sleep. In her dreams, she was transported back an hour, to when she and Grissom had been standing, face to face. In her dreams, she could reach out and touch him when he walked away from her, stopping him, and drawing him back to her...

 Two hours had passed since he had left her sleeping contentedly on his couch, and he was running out of things to do. He decided that, if he were quiet enough, he could creep in and grab the files he'd been studying when she had walked in earlier. The door was shut, and he could have sworn he took 10 minutes to open it quietly enough that she wouldn't wake. He needn't have bothered, because when it was finally opened, Sara stood in the middle of his office.

Grissom was glad that his job required a certain amount of restraint, because if it hadn't, he was sure he would have exclaimed something in surprise at the sight of Sara awake and in the middle of his office, instead of asleep like he'd imagined she would be. He was amazed that she hadn't noticed him at the doorway, but then again, he did spend quite a long time trying to open the door silently. He stayed at the door, trying to come up with a way to alert her to his presence without scaring her too badly. He'd run through about 10 different scenarios, all of which ended badly, when she spoke.

"Grissom?" Her voice held a question, but it didn't sound quite right. It was the kind of tone a woman used when she was happy, often used in intimate situations. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why she'd used that tone. He walked into the room slowly, trying to decipher why her voice sounded slightly odd--besides the fact that he'd never heard her speak his name in that way before.

She still hadn't moved, even though he was standing only a foot from her. He moved around her so he could see the expression on her face, and once he did, he understood her strange behavior. Her eyes were open, but they were glazed over, unfocused. She was asleep. Grissom had read somewhere that you should never wake a sleepwalker roughly. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, finding that he'd shut it, and wondering that he'd done so without thinking about it. He guessed it had been a good idea, considering the fact that he had no idea what Sara was like while she was sleepwalking. Grissom took a deep breath, and stepped even closer to her.

"Well, here goes nothing," he said, softly. At the sound of his voice, Sara turned slightly to face the noise, and then she smiled. In a rich, vibrant voice, she spoke again, and stepped so close that they were once again almost touching.

"Grissom."

This time there was no mistaking the desire in her voice, and before he had a chance to react to it, Sara was winding her lovely arms around his neck and lifting her face to his. Her lips were soft, softer than he had imagined or ever dreamt about. Office protocol was forgotten, case files were forgotten, all was forgotten but the beautiful woman he held in his arms. Her hands were in his hair, clinging to him as if he would disappear if she didn't hold him to her. Ordinarily she would have been right, but at this moment, Gil Grissom was drowning in a sea of Sara.

His hands roamed her back as he made love to her mouth with his. All the desire he'd held in check for so many years broke free, and he was powerless to stop himself.

All at once he felt something soft against the back of his legs, and he sat down unexpectedly, pulling Sara onto his lap. Their mouths still hadn't parted, and he once again closed his eyes, savoring the taste of her, the scent of her hair, the way it felt on his face. He felt so powerful as he touched her, as she moaned his name. He was pleasuring her, he was making her happy! With a guttural moan of his own, he laid her down on the couch and covered with caresses. Her nails scraped his back as she held on to him, pressing her body to his. His eyes opened to watch her, and reality struck him with unkind force. What was he doing? She was still sleeping!

He raised himself gently, and moved off and away from her. Her whimper of disappointment pierced his heart, and he tore his gaze from her in search for the discarded blanket. Averting his eyes from Sara's beautiful body laying invitingly on his couch, he covered her with the blanket and walked out of the office.

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That night, all the CSI's were in the break room attacking the four large pizzas Grissom had splurged for. They had cleared up all but one of the cases they'd been working so hard on the past week, the one only waiting for results to come back from Ballistics. Grissom had consciously avoided Sara's eyes, afraid she would remember some of his misconduct that morning. By all appearances, however, she seemed to have completely forgotten the incident entirely. He wasn't quite sure if he was pleased or displeased about that.

"Mmmmmmm." Sara set down her piece of extra cheese, and stretched with satisfaction. "Grissom, I gotta thank you for lending me your couch," she said with a sigh. At the surprised looks of her co-workers, Sara blushed slightly and defended herself. "Hey, he was out working the case, and he offered a nice quiet room and a blanket. I wasn't going to refuse!"

"Well, I'm glad you had a nice nap, Sara. You certainly did need the sleep." Grissom concurred.

"It certainly was," she purred. Sara missed his startled glance, as she got up and helped herself to more coffee. She turned around and, over the backs of their co-workers, raised an eyebrow and stared at him, a challenge in her eye. "I had the most wonderful dream," she said, holding his gaze for a long second. When Nick and Warrick turned around to look at her, intrigued by the tone in her voice, Sara finished her new cup of coffee and cleared away her spot at the table.

"I'm going to go check back with Ballistics--they should be done with their analysis by now. See ya later, Griss." She stopped at the doorway and turned around for a moment, caught his eye again, and winked.

It was Grissom's turn to receive surprised glances from the others at the table, and he distracted them by ordering everyone back to work. As he walked back to his office, his thoughts were all confused. Had she really been asleep? He supposed he'd never know for sure.