Disclaimer: I knew I forgot to add something to my Christmas list ...

Summary: Just some GS fluff. Christmas fic, naturally, cuz, well, it's Christmas.

A/N: Probably a one-shot. Might continue, if ya'll think I left it hanging ... Let me know. Also, this is taking place after Mea Culpa, so the split has indeed happened already :) Though ... it won't matter much because it has absolutely nothing to do with anything in this fic XP

And to all of you who have also been reading my other fic "Intrigue", yes, I know, I'm a lazy bum ;; I haven't even started chapter ... the next one. I can't even remember which chapter I'm on! I swear I'll start soon. I've been thinking about it. Really. Actually, this is kind of an off-chapter, like an interlude sorta thing, to that last chapter I wrote :) Rejoice, for that is where this idea came up!

Another day of tossing and turning uncomfortably on his couch had deprived Grissom of his sleep. Really, he hadn't thought about it. He'd had his mind on other things. Important things. Other important things like Sara Sidle.

Christmas was fast approaching. He'd meant to ask Catherine that day at work for advice on what to get her. She probably would have suggested flowers, Grissom thought. Not that flowers were a bad thing. It just seemed as though a bouquet of flowers wouldn't be enough to satisfy even him, let alone Sara.

Grissom sighed and dramatically threw his hand over his head, staring up at the white ceiling. The sun that still streamed through his windows was dulled only by his white curtains. He turned over to try to relieve himself of the light but found he'd be uncomfortable no matter which way he turned.

The coffee maker seemed to take forever to brew a single pot, and by the time it had finished he'd nearly fallen asleep at his kitchen table. It was barely noon, and Grissom doubted the coffee would tide him over until shift began.

He didn't really notice much that he had dialed Catherine's cell phone number until she answered the phone with a cheerful, "Willows."

"Hey, Cath, it's me. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not a bit. Just got done with a little Christmas shopping. You?"

"Thinking about it. But that's what I called for. Listen, um ... I wanted to get Sara something for Christmas ..." Grissom knew Catherine was grinning from ear to ear.

"Griss, I thought you'd never ask."

The mixing fragrances of flowers was making Grissom a little dizzy, but he knew he needed to find the right flowers. He was running out of time; the shop closed in half an hour.

Catherine had suggested some kind of rose, but Grissom expected that. She wanted him to give Sara a huge romantic notion like two dozen or a three karat diamond ring or bracelet or something, but he felt gut-less at the moment. And the few guts he did have remaining burst into tiny little pieces when he saw her at the next table.

"Hey there," he said, walking up to her. He felt a lot more nervous than he looked. Sara turned to him and smiled.

"Hey," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Just, um, buying flowers ..." Sara's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she turned back to look at the flowers. He thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

"Oh. Yeah, me too. Friend of mine is in town for Christmas. She's hard to buy for, so I figured a bouquet of her favorites would be good enough. So, who are you-"

"I kinda need your advice," he said, looking at the table next to him. Way to go, Grissom. Sara looked confused, but followed him anyway. "I don't really know what she likes so could you give me some pointers?"

It took Sara a while to answer, but when he looked at her, her gaze was roaming around the store. Finally, she said, "Well, my personal favorites are white roses." Grissom chuckled to himself. Is she dropping a hint? "But I don't know what your girl is like so ... If this is supposed to be a romantic sort of gift-" There goes that disappointed, and slightly disgusted, look again. Now she's jealous? "-I suggest some type of roses, maybe if pink, red, yellow, or white's her favorite color ... But then there are flowers that go with people's personality. But be careful, because if she's a nature person she might know flower meanings, and some can be insulting."

Grissom wasn't really listening. He was too busy looking at the display of white roses. He smiled.

Sara moved two tables past to examine the pink roses. When she picked up half a dozen, Grissom came back to her.

"Would you recommend a small number, half a dozen, or a dozen?" he said casually. She looked up at him.

"Depends on your girl, I guess. To me, large numbers are kind of overdoing it, but if she likes that kind of thing, go for it. If she's a little off the green thumb, don't waste your money on a lot because they'd die within two days. I suggest half a dozen or less, though." She held up her flowers. "Gotta go. Her party's in an hour. I will be at work. Alcohol free."

Sara smiled and walked away. As she finished paying and began to make her way out the door, Grissom grabbed half a dozen white roses.

Grissom walked cheerfully to his car, whistling a Christmas tune. When he climbed into his Denali, he called Catherine.

"Willows," she answered.

"Hey, Cath, it's me. Listen, I ran into Sara in the florist's." Catherine hesitated.

"What'd she say?"

"Well, I asked her advice. I think she thinks I'm getting the flowers for someone else."

"Was her advice helpful?"

Grissom grinned. "Yes, it was very helpful. But when should I give them to her?"

"I dunno. I'm more worried about your card at the moment." Grissom picked the card from the middle of the bouquet and opened it. It was blank. "What are you gonna write? Please make it more than 'From G.'"

"Well ... what should I write?"

Catherine laughed. She was going to enjoy this.

After what Catherine made him write, Grissom decided that this Christmas present would have to double as a casual invitation to his place for dinner. As much as this unnerved him, he had already written the card and had it sitting in the break room at the lab. He was sitting nervously in his office, knowing already that Sara was at work. It was all just a matter of her seeing the flowers.

"Whoa, hey now!" he heard Nick say suddenly outside the door. Grissom stood and looked around the corner to find Greg fumbling around, trying to pick up some papers that he dropped. When he saw Grissom, he gasped.

"I need to talk to you," he said excitedly. Grissom suddenly felt nervous. He cleared his throat.

"In my office then," he said, turning and walking to his desk to sit down. Greg was grinning from ear to ear as he shut the door behind him and held out a piece of paper to Grissom. Grissom opened it and read it, then laid it down on his desk and look at Greg. When neither said anything, Grissom asked, "Well?"

Greg's excitement seemed to have faded somewhat. "Well, what?"

"Is that all you have?" Greg nodded slowly, his brow creased in confusion.

"What'd it say-?"

"Out," Grissom stated in agitation. Greg nodded nervously and hurried from the room, nearly dropping his papers on the way out. As he left, Catherine arrived. She sat across from Grissom in his guest chair and crossed her legs, her hands on the arms. She smiled at him.

"What'd it say, Gil?" She said it calmly and slowly, as if she knew already what it said. Grissom sighed and gave a half smile as he prepared to read the one word of response.

Sara stood back and smiled at the vase of flowers in the middle of her coffee table. Alight with the glow from the Christmas tree, they looked positively beautiful. Apparently, Grissom had used her advice to buy her the flowers. And to top it off, she had dinner with Grissom at his place at six that night.

Her smiled broadened as she picked the card once more from the bunch of flowers and read it again.

To Sara,

Would dinner at my place suffice as a Christmas gift this year?

With love, Grissom

Although it sounded a bit weird coming from him, she enjoyed the fact that it wasn't just 'To Sara, from G.' It was a sweet gesture of friendship. And a free meal. So she had responded just as he normally would. Or close to it. Sure. Sara.

It wasn't glamorous, but really, she was almost speechless. She hadn't even been able to accept it in person. Instead, she had sent Greg as she messenger. She half believed that she'd be surprised if Grissom had been able to read her chicken scratch from the severe shaking of her hand as she wrote it. It was amazing that she'd had very little contact with Grissom other than for him to report that they should enjoy the crime-less day as Christmas would be full of it. He'd also said as she left for home that six would be a great time to "drop by."

As Sara thought about it, she looked toward her tree, where five presents were set neatly side-by-side. One, a rectangular box wrapped in silver wrapping, was labeled 'Grissom.' It was a physics book. (wink, wink)

Grissom looked around nervously. His apartment was spotless, and the dinner was ready. It was 6:05. Sara wasn't around.

He was about to reach for the telephone when his doorbell rang. He jumped slightly and looked through the peep hole, Seeing Sara's casually dressed form standing nervously, looking from side to side and finally toward the peep hole.

Grissom opened the door and returned a smile as she flashed him hers. She held out a neatly wrapped box and walked in, removing her scarf and mittens.

"Mmm, smells great," she said, eyeing the kitchen before turning to Grissom.

"A gift. You shouldn't have," he said.

"Open it." He looked at her and nervously began to take off the wrapping. With how eager she looked, he figured it was some sort of time bomb. When he finished, he looked at it in mild surprised. When he realized what it was about, a smile tugging at his lips made its way across his face.

"Physics. Really, you shouldn't have." He was teasing.

Sara threw her scarf across the arm of his couch, setting the mittens beside them. As she made her way to the kitchen, she said, "I have your book of entomology. You have my book of physics. We're even."

Grissom's smile broadened as he set the book and wrapping down, following her to the kitchen. She stood at the table, her gaze following the counter on which the toast and pasta were set.

"What have we here?" she said. She looked calmer than she felt.

"I remembered you were vegetarian," Grissom said. He felt proud. "I made pasta. I have salad in the fridge if you want." Sara closed her eyes and took a long whiff of the room.

"It really does smell great, Griss," she said, looking up at him. He was beaming with pride.

Dinner was full of the usual chatter- mostly about work, people, and for some reason past Christmas stories. Oddly enough, it took only forty-five minutes to finish up and start washing dishes. By the time they were finished, they had fallen into a content silence. Sara finished drying the last plate and had just placed it in the cabinet when she heard Grissom walk away. He returned a moment later, fingering something in his pocket. It was evident he wanted to say something, but it appeared he'd lost the nerve to say it.

"Yes?" Sara said, eyeing him nervously.

"Umm ..." he began, but he never finished. Instead, he leaned down slowly to press his lips to hers. It was a few seconds before he pulled away, and he watched her, anxious for some kind of response. She averted her eyes to just over his left shoulder. The heat was rising furiously in her cheeks, and she could feel them turning red. Though his beard hid most of his embarrassment, it had risen to his ears. When she looked back up, he seemed disappointed.

"Sorry," he murmured. Sara shook her head lightly and quickly kissed him again, only this time they leaned in voluntarily.

Grissom's hand left his pocket and his arms wound their way around Sara, her own arms coming to a rest at his shoulders. Their kiss deepened and it lasted much longer, until they were forced to pull away from lack of air. Although Grissom knew he had next to no confidence in him at this point, he led Sara by the hand from the kitchen. They fumbled through the darkened living room and finally found his bedroom door, where he had trouble finding the knob while their mouths were still linked. Lucky for him, she followed his lead, and they were soon on the other side of the door.

When Grissom awoke, Sara was buckling her belt, preparing to leave. It hadn't been long since shift ended, and they were both going to be late.

"You're leaving?" Grissom said, watching her intently. She looked at him and smiled.

"Uh, yeah, I'm gonna go home and get a shower, change, then I'll go to work." Grissom had already pulled his pants up and pulled his shirt on, leaving the buttons forgotten. He stood and watched her pulling her shoes on. His hand had found its way back to his pocket, and his fingers were wrapped around whatever was in there. Sara stood again and hugged him tightly. He put his hand on her back, pulling her to him, while his other took the contents from his pants pocket and dropped it into her coat pocket in one fluid motion. She kissed him again before walking to the living room to retrieve her scarf and mittens.

Sara turned to him when she opened the door, giving him one last hug and a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for last night," she said shyly. "And the flowers. See you at work."

And she was gone.

Sara stood in her living room, quickly trying to dry her hair with a towel and listen to the news at the same time. Quickly taking a brush to her tangled mess of hair, she threw it back and turned off the TV, reaching for her coat and keys. Standing at the door, she surveyed her house quickly, her hands in her pocket, as she checked for anything she may have missed. Feeling an out of place object resting under her hand, she pulled it out.

The blue, velveteen box looked suspiciously like one from the movies- the ones the heroes have when they get down on one knee and propose to the love of their life. But Sara knew this wasn't for her. Who would have-?

"Grissom," she sighed with a smile. Setting her keys on the table beside her, she reached for the lid with her other shaking hand and opened the lid.

The silver band was set with a single diamond, circular cut, just the way she liked it. She was never one for big, fancy, million-dollar rings. But as she left her apartment and started for her car, she knew exactly what was going one.

"It must have been Catherine's idea."

A/N: I doubt I'll continue it, with this new ending (this wasn't how it originally was going to end). I like this ending better, but it didn't turn out as long as I wanted it to :( Anyway, here are a few explanations: I used a lot of my own preferences for Sara. I chose white roses as her faves because they're my personal favorites, and I was talking about them with my best friend whose guts I hate (see my blog for more info) when I was writing that scene. The food: I hate salad, so I didn't wanna write about it :P And pasta seemed to be popular lately. The ring: I HATE big rings. I hate gold, too, so the silver band was definitely all me. I also hate diamonds, but they are THE engagement stone, so ... if you gotta have one, make it small :P I'm a freak, I know. Oh,BTW, the 5 presents under Sara's tree were for Grissom, Warrick, Cath, Nick, and Greg. Sophia wasn't anywhere near being on her mind when she went shopping :)Anyway, reviews much welcome, wanted, and sadly, badly needed :P Don't go and let that review button collect so much dust!! You know they're allergic to that stuff.