Well, this is it, finally. Thank you for your kind reviews and for sticking to the end!

Sorry it took me so long, but I really agonized over each line that went into the story.

Prologue

Sara glanced at Grissom's message. It was brief and cautious, just as hers had been. Since she had not acknowledged his other two messages - the one he sent by accident and the one with the apology – he too, was pretending they didn't exist.

"As for what 'El gringo que juega…' means: Some kids call me 'the gringo who plays with spiders'." He wrote, "It all started one day at the park - I was sitting there waiting for a tour guide, and suddenly this spider fell on me. I was bored, so I just let it walk all over me. By the time the guide came, the kids –and some adults- were making questions about spiders, and suddenly I became the new attraction in town."

He had gone back to the formal tone of his first messages; he told her of second-hand bookstores and of a charity ball he had to attend, but little else. He had sent a picture of himself, but there was something missing in it. His smile.

"Oh, Grissom." She sighed. "You're closing up again."

After a moment, she logged off. She unplugged her lap top and everything else in her home – standard precautions since she was leaving for more than a week.

The thought really gave her some shivers.

She took a last look around, telling herself that she was ready for this. She had booked flights and had already paid most of her expenses: the package deal at a spa was a bit expensive, but she it would be a nice surprise for Tina and Tina's mother.

As for the rest of her plans…

She was ready to face anything…

THURSDAY (again)

Sara was strolling down the beach; she smiled, enjoying the feel of the golden sand under her feet and the kiss of the sun on her face. She glanced around now and then, but without concern; she knew Grissom was there and it was only a matter of time before she found him.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was so pure she felt lightheaded. Or was it the feeling of anticipation? She smiled to herself. Grissom was going to be so thrilled when he saw her-

That thought compelled her to look over at the next pier. There were people fishing and taking pictures there, but she didn't recognize Grissom. It was so hard to be sure though; the sun was shining so brightly… and it was getting hot…so hot-

And the water looked enticing.

Sara daintily walked into the water. It was cool… it felt delicious… She closed her eyes and sighed. She felt so free, all of a sudden; she couldn't help it, she slowly unbuttoned her sundress and let the tide take it off her.

"Oh, my God!" a woman screamed, "Sara, how could you?"

Sara blinked, as if waking up from a dream. She turned and saw Catherine standing a few feet away. The older woman was pointing at something on Sara's chest.

"A mustard colored bikini, Sara? Are you crazy?"

And Sara was utterly puzzled as she looked down at herself. How come? She didn't have any mustard bikinis! She didn't have any bikinis, for that matter. The only swimsuit she owned was blue and it was a one-piece that she had bought when she moved to San Francisco-

"Sara?"

Sara turned. Grissom was standing there; he was staring at her bikini too.

"I prefer black leather-" he mumbled

"Gringapana!" screamed Catherine, poking her on the shoulder, "Ya llegamos!"

"Don't poke me!" Sara mumbled, trying to protect her shoulder, "Stop it!"

"Ya llegamos!" someone said clearly; only this time it wasn't Catherine; it was a man. "Gringapana!"

"What-" Sara mumbled, and this time the sound of her own voice woke her up. Someone was still poking at her shoulder and frankly, it was pissing her off. Indignantly, she opened her eyes and blinked. A young Latino man was looking at her with a big smile.

"Ya llegamos a Pana!" He said.

With a sinking feeling, Sara realized she had fallen asleep.

She couldn't believe it! She had been warned of the dangers of traveling solo in Guatemala; she had been told to be alert all the time, to keep an eye on her luggage, and mostly, to never, never, ever fall asleep while traveling -unless she wanted to wake up anywhere but at the village she was going to. And here she was, sleeping like a baby in this smelly bus-

"Pana?" She asked.

"Si, ya llegamos!" he said, beckoning at her to follow him. Sara noticed that everybody else in the bus was looking at her, waiting. She suddenly recalled that the fastest one got off the bus, the fastest it continued its trip; she hurriedly followed the guy out. It wasn't easy; her limbs were cramped after being squeezed in that bus for ours.

Outside the sun was blinding.

The young man brought her backpack down and put it in front of her.

"Gracias, señor." She mumbled, taking it from him. He turned his back on her to help some local men and women boarding the bus. He took their belongings – huge boxes filled with fruit or vegetables and even live animals – and he easily lifted them and secured them on top of the bus.

"Adiós, Gringapana!" the guy called out as the bus left.

Gringapana. Sara shook her head. It was amazing; in only a few hours she had become so used to being called Gringapana, she had to remind herself she was Sara Sidle.

Grissom would laugh when he heard the story of how she got her nickname.

Of course, first she would have to tell him about Mrs. and Mr Gonzalez.

Sara had to admit she'd been lucky. When she went to the travel agency and mentioned that she didn't speak any Spanish, the woman in charge had arranged for her to travel with a couple that was returning to Guatemala. Mr. and Mrs. González had taken her under their wing from the start, giving her some valuable advice. The downside was that these deeply religious people kept asking her questions about her own religious beliefs, her job, and her goals in life. Sara had been evasive, mostly letting them do the talking. Still, they had artfully got her to confess that she was going to visit a male friend in Pana.

"Are you going to marry this young man?" asked Mrs. González.

Sara had only smiled. She didn't want to disappoint Mrs. González by telling her that Grissom wasn't that young, or that she didn't think she'd ever get married.

"We'll see." She said and that was enough for Mrs. Gonzalez, who insisted on exchanging addresses and phone numbers. She wanted to see pictures of the wedding, she said. She loved it when people did the right thing.

Mr. and Mrs. González did a lot for her after landing too. They had helped her pass through Customs, they had given her some advice for her trip, and finally, they had taken her to the bus station. There, Mrs. Gonzalez had asked the guys in charge to take care of the 'gringa', who didn't speak Spanish, but needed to go to Pana.

And that's how it happened; what had begun as 'la gringa que va para Pana' (the gringa who's going to Pana) was turned into 'gringa va a Pana' and finally into 'Gringapana'.

Sara stretched a little and looked around. She hoped she really was in Panajachel. There was no sign; no "You're entering Panajachel" in big neon letters, and –now that she thought about it- no lake. Where was the lake?

'If you hadn't fallen asleep you would have seen it.' She muttered. She had been told that Panajachel was at the bottom of a mountain and that you could have a breathtaking view of the lake as your bus crept down. Well, she had missed it this time.

She searched in her pockets for the map that Mr. González had drawn for her. He had kindly included the location of a couple of hotels she might like to try.

Sara liked her room. It was clean and airy, and the bedding was white and spotless –well, as spotless as it could be, considering it was a hotel; if she took it upon herself to examine each sheet closely, she might not like it as much-

"Stop it." She muttered.

She looked wistfully at her bed; she really needed some rest. On the other hand, she knew that if she took a nap, she'd simply pass out and wake up tomorrow and lose half a day.

She opened her only window instead and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was lined with flowerpots of different shapes and sizes, all containing carnations in full bloom. She loved it. It was like having her own private garden.

From her window she had a full view of Santander Street. She knew that if she walked a straight line, she would get to the lake. From here she could even see the top of the volcano –the one that appeared on the website and on all the postcards, but little else. Still... she was just a few blocks away from the lake… and from Grissom's hotel.

She had a sudden urge to run down the stairs and go searching for him, but she forced herself to hold back. She wanted to do things calmly and savor every moment. Sara went back to her room and took a last look at herself in the full length mirror. She had changed into an old denim skirt, a white t-shirt, and sandals. She thought she looked ok. … And before she started finding little faults, she grabbed her keys and her shoulder bag with determination. She checked the contents of her bag: her handy phrase book, a picture of Grissom, and - a couple of condoms. Hey, she could only hope-

And then she rushed down the stairs.

Grissom had mentioned this street in his e-mails. Santander Street had the best boutiques in town, plus colorful open stalls on the sidewalks. Grissom loved these. There was a great variety of merchandise sold in those- From black market CDs and DVDs, to second-hand books, handmade clothing, and jewelry. But it was the local merchandise that really caught her attention. She began to wonder whether she should have brought more money. There was some stuff that she might like to buy for the guys back at CSI: t-shirts for Nick and Warrick; a jade necklace that would look great on Catherine…an onyx paperweight for Brass… a wood sculpture for Greg… some gorgeous, colorful clothes that she might like to buy for herself... And tons of things for Grissom.

The next block on the street was darker, due to the trees that lined it side by side. She was too distracted to really notice that, until she walked past it and found herself under the glare of the sun. She was also hit by her first view of the lake. She was speechless. For the first time she understood what Grissom meant when he wrote that he spent hours just looking at the lake.

"Oh, wow." She muttered reverently.

It was more beautiful than in the pictures, because she had a wide view of it, and she could appreciate the different blues and greens in the water and the mountains. She liked the fact that there were just a few canoes floating here and there, while the bigger boats were tied to the piers. It looked peaceful; just what she needed.

But when she started walking towards the nearest pier, she got a big, nasty surprise: Instead of sand, she stepped on gravel. She winced. Any fantasies she might have had about running on golden sand to meet Grissom went down the drain. She'd have trouble walking with open sandals, let alone running…But on the other hand, her combat boots would come in handy.

She looked around. Grissom's hotel was hard to miss; it was the biggest building on the beach. She started walking towards it, but before she reached it, she noticed someone familiar sitting under an open umbrella. It was the lady who, according to Grissom, had seven kids. Sara smiled when she noticed that the lady sold tiny wood sculptures of insects. Surely Grissom had spent some time talking to her.

"Perdone." Sara said, showing her Grissom's picture, "Conoce este hombre?" ("Excuse me, do you know this man?")

The woman squinted at the picture and smiled.

"Dr. Grissom."

"Si." Sara nodded, "Sabe dónde está?" ("Do you know where he is?")

"Se está bañando." the woman, said pointing to the far end of the beach, "Allá."

"Bañando?" Sara repeated, while frantically looking up the word in her book. She smiled widely, as she understood what the woman meant. "Oh, he's swimming!"

The woman nodded and Sara waved goodbye.

Sara walked, filled with determination.

"I'm coming, Grissom." She said aloud.

Sara didn't recognize him at first. She had been searching for him among the few swimmers than were close to the shore; she hadn't expect him to be so far into the lake. It wasn't until he was wading out of the water that Sara realized it was him. She impulsively waved but he didn't notice it; he seemed to be deep in thought. Or maybe he was simply intrigued by something in the water; he kept picking up things and putting them in his pockets. Sara smiled widely. His clothes - khaki cut off pants and a white t-shirt –were wet and clinging to his skin. She cursed herself for not bringing her camera! Nobody would believe Grissom had stripped down like this.

Sara decided to enjoy the view while it lasted. She took off her sandals and carefully waded into the water until it reached her hips. She felt something brushing against her leg and she looked down: little fish were darting around her legs.

"Oh, great." she muttered. She cringed. She didn't want him to notice her just yet. He didn't hear, though. He was distracted. He soon turned his attention towards the landscape in front of him. She wondered what it was that had got his full attention- whether it was the lake, or the volcano or the mountains, or the cloudless sky-

"What is it, Grissom?" she whispered.

She opened her mouth, only to realize that she didn't know what to say. Her mind was a blank; of all the speeches that she had prepared, not a single word remained.

The only thing she knew for certain was that he'd be mortified when he realized she had been staring at his-

"Nice tushy!" She called out impulsively.

Grissom didn't stir. Sara couldn't know this, but he was simply enjoying the sun. He usually closed his eyes and took a few minutes to meditate.

Sara took another couple of steps towards him. She was smiling again- her face would hurt tomorrow if she kept this up– she was so happy. They were so close, finally- If she stretched her arm, and if he turned and stretched his own arm back, they might touch-

"Hey." She said aloud.

Grissom frowned. He usually didn't pay much attention to people swimming around, but that voice sounded like - but no, it couldn't be; he missed her so much he was starting to imagine things. Still, he was curious enough to glance over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw her.

"Sara?" he exclaimed, and he turned around so abruptly that he lost his balance and landed hard on his butt.

"Oh, my God." She cried, "Are you ok?"

"No." he glared, and Sara burst out laughing.

Grissom stared at her in disbelief. First she ambushed him and now she laughed at him? He had the vague feeling that he should be angry, but he was too busy looking at every inch of her face and every inch of her body –hungrily, as if he hadn't seen a woman in a very long time. For a brief moment he wondered if he was simply dreaming- Hell, no; he wasn't. The sting of gravel digging into his butt was proof enough that he was awake.

Sara was really here, just a few feet away. And she was smiling.

"I'd never seen you laugh so hard." he said dryly

"I'd never been so happy." She replied.

He smiled faintly at her. He noticed that she wasn't wearing any make up, and that her freckles stood out in her pale skin, as did the natural rose of her lips. She looked pretty and healthy and happy; the exact opposite of what she had looked like a week ago in Las Vegas.

"You came." he said softly. He was happy to see her, yet he didn't know how to tell her so. He was scared of saying the wrong thing. "I never expected to see you so soon." He added.

That's not what she had hoped to hear, but she bravely kept her smile frozen on her face.

"I'm glad you're here-" He added, and he started to get up… until he remembered what he was wearing. He discreetly settled back, acting as if sitting on gravel was something he did all the time. "You look great." He said instead.

"Thank you," She said, and she waded closer to him–not as seductively as she wanted, she was in the water, after all- and she softly added, "You too."

Grissom winced.

"I'm not in good shape." He said, but he wasn't apologizing; he was merely stating a fact.

"Oh, I don't think so, Grissom. Your arms look pretty strong." She said deliberately, "They look like the kind I'd love to have around me."

Sara loved seeing the effect that her words had on him. His face was so expressive, it was like reading an open book: He was shocked… moved… skeptical. He didn't believe she liked him this much. Plus, he was embarrassed about his clothes, just as she had thought he would be.

She took pity on him; she silently offered him a hand. Grissom took it after a pause. He toyed with the idea of pulling her into the water, and he even tugged on her hand, as if testing the possibility. In the end, he got up. He was still searching for words, when he noticed something.

"What happened to your nails?" he frowned.

"I had a manicure," She said brightly, barely containing her laughter when she saw his expression of disbelief, "and a pedicure, too. I had to look nice for a party." She added playfully, watching for his reaction.

Grissom kept his expression completely blank.

"A party?" he asked.

"Greg asked me to be his date and I said yes." She explained matter-of-factly. That didn't get any reaction from him, so she added, looking closely at him. "And that's not all I did in your absence, Grissom. I kissed Nick on the cheek," she said. Grissom merely stared at her, without letting his feelings show. "And I told Warrick my darkest secret." She finished.

To her utter surprise, it was this bit of information that got a reaction from him: he was hurt. Not that he said anything; he didn't have to. The look in his eyes was enough. He was sad because she had trusted someone else, not him. Brass was right. For Grissom, love by itself wasn't enough.

"You were right, Grissom." She said softly, "Things changed while you were away."

He looked serenely at her, but inwardly he felt as if he were facing a firing squad. In his mind, he was refusing a blindfold, willing to face 'death' courageously.

"What things?" he asked calmly.

"I grew up, for one." She said simply.

"Is that why you came?"

"I came here because…" she gulped, "Because some things can only be said face to face, Grissom. I wanted to tell you that… you were right when you said that we needed to spend some time apart. It was a shock to me." She admitted, "I felt so lonely- But it forced me look around and become aware of what other people mean to me-" she paused, feeling terribly frustrated. She had so many things to say she didn't know where to begin. She slowly lifted her free hand and touched his cheek, "Griss, before I say anything else, there's something important you should know: no matter what happens- there'll always be a place for you my heart."

He realized what she was telling him; she had read those two messages. He looked away.

"I loved your message." She said tenderly. "You were so honest-"

"I was going to delete it-" he began, "But you already know that, right?" he looked at her. "Look, I'm glad you read it. You had a right to know. It's just-" he took a deep breath, "I feel as if... you know-" he shrugged.

"As if you were standing naked in the middle of the lab," she said teasingly, "while Catherine points out every little flaw in your body?" she said teasingly.

"Yes." He chuckled shyly, " That's exactly what if feels like."

"I understand the feeling." She said, "I feel naked right now, Grissom. I mean… here we are, holding hands and… I have so many things to confess, and-" she suddenly opened her eyes wide. "Grissom?" she cried, jumping away, "There are some fish are trying to get into my underwear-"

Lucky fish, Grissom thought, although he kept that to himself.

"Let's get out of the water," he said, chuckling.

They reached the shore and shook the excess water. Grissom took something out of his pockets and threw it in the trashcans.

"Trash?" she asked, "You were picking up trash?"

"I like to cooperate with the locals."

Sara sat on a little patch of grass.

"You like it here, don't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted sheepishly, "I do. It's really easy to become part of the community." Grissom sat by her side and stretched his legs. He looked at her, "How did you manage this, Sara?" he was concerned, all of a sudden, "You didn't quit, did you?"

"Nope." She smiled, "I simply let Catherine give me one of her 'you-need-to-get-a-life' speeches and followed her advice."

He smiled, genuinely amused. He was going to make a comment, but someone shouted his name. He turned and waved at an old man walking towards Santander. Sara took the chance to really look at Grissom. He hadn't trimmed his beard; and he was very tan. The golden tone of his skin made his hair look a bit grayer, but on the other hand, it made his eyes shine like-

She reddened when she realized he was aware of her scrutiny.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing." She looked away, "I'm just…getting all mushy headed over you." She confessed. "I'm beginning to compare your eyes to jewels"

"Really?" he asked, getting very interested, "Well, don't stop. Go on."

"Nah, hah." She said, deeply embarrassed, "It's your turn to say something nice."

"I like your legs." He said casually.

She opened her mouth and didn't say anything. He chuckled.

"See?" he said smugly, "I can surprise you too."

They smiled at each other for a moment, until a couple of kids walking by waved at Grissom.

"You've become very popular," she observed.

"I ate a cockroach in front of them; what do you expect?"

"Oh, Grissom, yuck!"

He chuckled. Then he took her hand.

"I'm glad you're here." He said.

"Me, too." she said softly. She caressed his hand with her thumb, "did you really figure it out, Grissom?

"Yes." He said simply. "Look, Sara," he said earnestly, "I want this. I do. It's just… I'd rather not do anything that might endanger our friendship."

"Neither do I," she replied, "Friendship is important to me too. We haven't even had that lately and I miss it."

"We'll work on it." He said, "How long are you staying?"

"I was planning to return with you."

He smiled. He liked the idea of spending a whole week with her in this place.

It was somehow terrifying, too.

"Can you believe we're here, together?" Sara asked suddenly and he knew what she meant. There they were, a couple of clueless nerds, holding hands and preparing for a huge change in their lives. Friendship… romance…

"Do you know what I like about this?" he asked, looking at her, "What I like about you and me?"

"What?"

"That everything is so new." He said, and his smile was hopeful and,"Do you realize how new the world is, Sara? All those first times, waiting for us." He added, "For instance, this is the first time we sit together, holding hands- " his voice trailing off.

"First time looking at each other's legs-" she added softly.

"First time falling over backwards for you." He chuckled self-consciously.

"First time fleeing from the fish." She joked. "That won't happen again. I'll wear my swimsuit. Which reminds me," she brazenly eyed him, "This is the first time I've really seen you."

"Ah, yes," he said, embarrassedly, "You won't let me forget that. There's another first for us, Sara: First time dancing together-"

"Dancing?" she did a double take, "You dance?"

"Uh. Not exactly. But I paid for ballroom dance classes-"

"What? Why?"

"Hey, they were auctioning services," he shrugged, "Remember the charity ball? It was to benefit the butterfly reserve, so-"

"Oh. Well, as long as it's for a good cause…" her voice trailed off, "Oh, there's another first-" she added, "First time stepping on your toes as we try to dance."

"First time looking on as the sun comes up…" he said softly, thinking of another first that seemed less like a dream and more like reality now: first time waking up side by side –or better, first time waking up in each other's arms –

Sara was daydreaming too.

'First time holding you in my arms.' She thought. And then she smiled in anticipation, as her mind came up with a devilish thought, 'First time asking you about Lady Heather-'

She didn't notice that he had shifted in his seat until he whispered the words in his ear… and he was so close that it felt as if he was kissing her. His breath, warm and fresh tickled her and sent shivers down her spine as he said,

"First time telling you that I love you."

THE END

I think there'll be a sequel with a higher rating, to deal with some of those first times…