Fingers were playing with his hair.
"Gil?"
He'd been sleeping in a painful but familiar position.
"Sweetie, come to bed."
"I fell asleep?"
"We both did."
"I hate these chairs."
"You'll change your mind in the morning. You always do." He sat up slowly, wincing at a pinch in his back. Photos and textbooks were spread across the desk. She smiled from her own chair on the other side.
"I don't care how bad it is for insomniacs. We're doing our research in bed from now on."
"Since when are we capable of work in bed? We have a nasty habit of distracting each other."
With a sleepy but playful wink she got him up from the desk. He studied her face, beautiful as always, but a little pale with dark rings under her eyes. He brushed a thumb across her cheek. "You need more sleep."
"Pot. Kettle. Black. Come on, bed."
"Maybe we should get you something for your insomnia."
"Gil, I doubt either of us has insomnia anymore. But between work and each other there isn't much chance to disprove my theory."
He didn't bother arguing. They crawled into bed, she found the familiar spot on his chest, and both were asleep within minutes.
Grissom's eyes opened slowly. Sara. She looked peaceful enough as she slept. His eyes willingly slid shut.
It was Sunday. Days off together were rare for the workaholics and the mornings were his favorite part. Nothing rushed. Hours spent under the covers, touching, talking, memorizing colors and curves he already knew by heart.
Rough cases didn't matter those mornings. Administrative stresses didn't exist. There were no arguments, no messes. No complications. The world was population two and he could think of nothing better.
"Gil?" The dark circles were gone. Her eyes were bright and shiny. She smiled sweetly. "Morning." A hand trailed down to rest at his waist.
"Sleep well?"
She nodded. "I'm gonna get some orange juice. Want some?"
He shook his head. "Just hurry back."
She grinned. "You really love this, don't you?"
"Always will."
She leaned in for a kiss. He let the warmth of her lips flow through his entire body. When she finally pulled away, it felt too soon. It always felt too soon.
She climbed out of bed and he sunk back into the covers. In the kitchen, the phone rang. He groaned when she answered.
"Hey, no work! If I can restrain myself, so can you!" No answer. The chatter of Sara's matter-of-fact voice grew more distinct.
Grissom's eyes opened again, more reluctantly this time.
"I gotta go," Sara rushed. "Bye."
His eyes focused on white squares. The hospital ceiling, he realized. He turned his head to look at Sara, the pang in his back and neck very real this time.
"Hey!" she smiled brightly. A little too brightly, considering. Grissom scanned the bed and noticed how her right hand was positioned awkwardly. He reached out. "Hand over the phone, Sara."
A flawlessly innocent expression. "What phone?"
"Sara," he warned.
With a sigh she handed the slim cellphone. Flipping it open, he checked her call history. Nick Stokes was listed three times.
"Huh. Nick must really want lab grunge duties."
"Give him a break. He's just keeping me updated. Besides, I called him."
"Cellphones aren't even allowed in hospitals, Sara."
"We're two floors away from the ER. There isn't anything important here to interfere with."
"No arguments. No more calls." He held up the cellphone. "I'm hanging on to this."
She frowned. "I—"He held up a hand to stop her argument. The frown deepened. "Fine. We took care of the important points, anyhow."
Important points. Grissom felt the now-familiar clench. "No more work, Sara. I mean it. Concentrate on feeling better."
"I feel fine now."
"No one gets your work habits better than me. I know you want to be in the lab with us but that simply isn't an option." His voice softened. "Knowing that you're here and comfortable and safe will help us concentrate on the case." He let the words sink in for a moment before going with his impulse and admitting, "It'll help me."
She didn't let herself wonder at his words. "You guys will be fine. Nick said there's plenty of evidence."
"Sometimes there's more to a case than just the evidence, Sara." She looked up sharply, then caught herself and stared at her blanket. Talk about your declarations of love. She hated that he still said things like that with no idea what the words were really telling her.
"I'm gonna get back to the lab. Do you need anything?" He was already standing up, shrugging on his jacket. He can't wait to get out of here, Sara thought miserably.
"No." He was circling the bed, small quick glances her way. "Grissom—" He stopped. Looked at her expectantly. "They're releasing me in a few hours. I talked to Dr. Finn while you were asleep."
"I don't want you coming in tonight."
"I figured you'd say that. And it's fair, since my foot's still bandaged anyhow. One klutzy move and we're out $100,000 in equipment." She stared at him steadily to emphasize her next words. "But tomorrow night, I'm back for my normal shift."
"Sara—""Grissom, if you wanna stop me, you're gonna have to fire me."
He sighed, but instead of the argument she fully expected, all he asked was, "Do you need a ride?"
"No, I'm covered. Thanks."
He nodded and made his escape out the door.
- - - - - - - - -
Things could have gone better with Sara, but having drama replaced with their usual work-related bickering calmed Grissom more than he expected.
He entered the lab feeling refreshed, even responding to a lab tech's cautious hello with a smile.
"Grissom!" Greg called out, jogging up to meet him. "How'd it go?"
"What?"
"Catherine said you went to ask Sara some questions." His voice lowered for privacy. "She doing okay?"
"She'll be fine, Greg. You can talk to her yourself tomorrow."
"Back so soon?" Nick interrupted, walking up. "Are you okay with that?"
"I've been told that my opinion doesn't matter." The comment actually made him smile.
"Okay... Brass is lookin' for ya. The suspect is feeling chatty." Greg forgotten, the two started walking toward the interrogation room.
"How's it looking?"
"Golden. Our evidence is solid and Sara filled in the few gaps we had." Grissom frowned. Nick held his hands up in defense. "Hey man, she called me. That girl is impossible to argue with."
"Just give me the basics."
"Well, seems our suspect, Mr. Felman, was using the warehouse to stash stolen goods until he could find buyers. Cars, jewelry, that sort of thing. The company called us in when security reported some loose locks."
"Do we know how long he was operating from there?""Company rep said it could've been as much as seven months. They've been moving their operations up to Reno."
"So what happened yesterday?"
"He heard about the police and freaked. Went to clean up the place. Panicked when he saw Sara."
Grissom impressed himself with his calm exterior. "Why did he keep her?"
"Felman saw that she was collecting evidence. He spent most of the time she was conscious in the storage building, trying to convince her to show him the best way to destroy everything. He finally gave up, knocked her out again and dumped her out back. Lit up the evidence. He was gonna clean up the warehouse too. Probably didn't know the officer was there. Freaked again, hit the cop from behind, and took off."
Grissom's forehead wrinkled in disgust. "Why are the stupid ones always the most dangerous?"
When he reached the room, Brass was already inside with a look of bored impatience. The suspect stared at the table with tightly folded arms, clearly upset.
"I've been informed that you want a deal, Mr. Felman," Grissom stated tiredly. "I just had to hear this for myself. You injured two law enforcement officials, sending one to the hospital. No way are we making a deal."
"No way, uh-uh, I am not talking about this with you. You won't listen to me. You guys are all gonna take this personally."
Brass snorted. "Personal? Personal would be making a jab about a woman half a foot shorter than you managing to give some very nasty injuries." Felman absentmindedly scratched at the gauze under his sleeve.
Grissom stared at him studiously through his glasses. "We don't need to get personal, Mr. Felman. You did this to yourself. We have enough evidence to put you away for every one of the numerous charges we'll be filing. You picked the wrong team to screw up with. "