A/N: I don't own them, but in a perfect world, I would. Plot and subordinate characters are mine, the rest belong to Anthony Zuicker and company. Special thanks to my husband and my beta readers, Ash and Anne. Without those three, I would never have the courage to continue writing.

Chapter 12

William was behind the counter at the reception desk when Grissom and Sara got back from a full day of sightseeing. They had walked and talked and gotten to know each other all over again. And seeing the sights of London was just what the doctor had ordered.

"Ah, Dr. Grissom, how was your day? Enjoying the city, I hope."

"We had an excellent day, William, thank you for asking. Any messages for us?"

"I'm afraid not, but I did want to tell you that Mr. McAllister is having tea right now in the dining area if you still wanted to see him. I took the liberty of making reservations in your name. They're required."

Here was their chance to wrap up the case. Grissom didn't know if he actually wanted this case to end. He wanted just a little more time with Sara away from Vegas, away from the worries and politics of the office. But, he was Grissom after all and he would always do what was right. "Thank you, William. Could you see that our bags are taken up to our room? Sara, honey, would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That would be nice," Sara responded, handing over her bags to the bellhop and following Grissom into the Ritz's dining area. It was a good thing that both of them had dressed nicely but comfortably for the day. A diningroom that required reservations for teatime was not somewhere you wore jeans and a tanktop.

Grissom saw McAllister immediately, spotting the short, rather plump balding man in the crowd of the dining room. "Devon McAllister?"

Devon McAllister held the piece of Eccles cake at his mouth, "Yes that's me. What can I do for you?"

"I'm Gil Grissom of the Las Vegas crime lab and this is Ms. Sidle. We just wanted to ask you a couple of questions. You don't mind, do you?"

"Las Vegas? Why are you all the way over here? Do you even have jurisdiction here? Doesn't matter," he shook his head, "ask away if you must."

Sara couldn't get over the fake British accent the man was using. She had to fight hard not to laugh as she asked her questions. "Are you aquatinted with a Charles Sneville?"

"Charlie? Yes, as a matter of fact, he and his wife are good friends of mine. Why?"

"Mr. Sneville reported a priceless Henry Moore sculpture as missing from his home. Says that you were one of the last people there. Do you remember where you were on June 2nd of this year?"

"Yes, I do, Ms. Snidle was it? I was at a party that Charles and Mary were giving. I left early and went to another one across town. I believe that Webster Kensington and his partner David were hosting it at the Tangiers. I'm sure that you can get the guest list from Webster. Now, if you will excuse me, I'd like to finish my tea before I head back to the tennis tournament." And with that, McAllister stuffed the piece of cake in his mouth and turned away from the duo.

Sara was getting angry. She hated it when someone got her name wrong and it sounded like McAllister had done it on purpose, just to be condescending. "Actually, its Ms. Sidle and we could get the guest list, but we like chasing pompous bald men down to question them," she spit out as she turned on her heels and left the dining area.

"Well, I never," McAllister said, indignant. "Mr. Grissom, you really should speak with you subordinate about her manners."

"You should really take your own advice, Mr. McAllister. Sorry to inconvenience you, have a lovely time in London," Grissom replied and turned and left the dining area, walking fast to catch up to Sara.

He caught her just as the elevator doors were opening. "Sara, don't let a little man like him get you angry. He's just compensating. You know, for the baldness and everything," Grissom smiled at her.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. You look like you could use a hug."

"Never say that I was one to pass up a free feel," Sara quipped as she wrapped her arms around Grissom. A funny feeling came over her as she placed her head on his chest. She thought her heart was beating a million miles a minute until she realized that Grissom's cellphone was ringing. "Is that a cellphone in your pocket or are you just happy to be holding me?"

"My cellphone and I am happy to be holding you. Grissom," he said as he opened his cellphone to take the call. "Hello, Catherine. Yes, we actually just finished speaking with Mr. McAllister. They did? I see. Okay, we'll be on the flight tomorrow evening. Everything okay out there? Greg hasn't burned the lab down yet, has he? Good, we'll see you then, oh, and tell Lindsey that I have a great gift for her. I'll talk to you later, Bye."

"Let me guess, that was Catherine."

"Yup. Seems our friendly," he said with sarcasm, "Mr. McAllister was telling the truth. Las Vegas PD just found the missing items in a storage locker belonging to Mary Sneville. She was stealing things from under her husband's nose and friends to support an illicit affair and a nasty drug habit."

"I guess that means that it's back the grind for us."

"Afraid so. Sara," Grissom turned serious, "promise me something. When we get back to Vegas, we don't go back to the way things were. We go forward."

"Forward, as in see what develops? I'm willing if you are."

"I am. I've wasted enough time fighting my feelings for you. It's time to start living."

"Okay. Now, aren't agreements like this one usually sealed with a handshake or something?"

"Or something," he whispered as his head slowly approached hers. His eyes were locked on hers.

"So, do you want to shake hands?" she whispered, her eyes looking into his crystal blue ones.

"Nope," he said as his lips captured hers in a kiss that was whisper soft to begin with. His feelings soon made their way to the surface as he deepened the kiss.

Sara tilted her head so that she could deepen the kiss as well.

Nothing existed for them except each other as their bottled passions quickly rose to the surface.

And suddenly were extinguished when the elevator doors opened to reveal the same elderly couple that had seen them nights before.

"Oh my," the tiny silver haired woman exclaimed, "Don't you two have a room?" She and her husband laughed. "Well, go on, we can wait, again."

The elevator doors slowly slide to a close as Grissom and Sara looked at each other and laughed.

THE END

A/N: Please read and review. I appreciate any and all reviewers, even flames. I could use something to warm up the townhouse.