DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

The last bag was brought in the car by Roberta, as Vera had showed her to be careful due to some fragile objects in it.

Sara had been seated next to Vera who insisted to it, and the older woman had only asked her a couple of questions, all having to do with work. She revealed to Sara that the main reason why Roberta had been picked as her aid was that she was the only one that could translate Vera's jokes the best way.

When breakfast was done, Very had requested a few minutes alone with Sara, and to Grissom's confusion asked for Roberta to remain instead of him. He felt suspicious but complied to his mother's wish nevertheless. She said nothing of her private and short conversation with Sara to Grissom.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Vera signed and turned to Roberta asking something of her. Roberta nodded and took out a small digital camera out of her bag. Vera took it. "Could you two move closer together please?" she asked Grissom and Sara through Roberta.

"Why?" Grissom asked.

"Well… I have space for two more pictures here so why not?"

Grissom sighed. He moved to his right where Sara was.

"Okay… Could you put your arm over her shoulders, Gil?" Vera asked.

Grissom raised an eyebrow.

Vera sighed. She knew he wouldn't comply. "Please, don't make me come all the way there with my leg!" she made an excuse.

"Very well…" Grissom mumbled and quickly put his arm over Sara's shoulder.

"Nice, and Sara dear, could you please put your arm on Grissom's waist?"

"Uh…" she glanced at her boss. Nervously she did as she was asked. Grissom's grip on her shoulder had been so faint that she barely felt his hand. But the warmth and weight of his arm on her back was not something to be easily dismissed.

"A little smile please? Thank you…And now…" Vera set the focus and pressed the button.

The moment the picture was taken, Grissom and Sara moved casually away from each other.

Grissom walked up to the car. He kissed Vera's cheek. "Have a safe trip and call me when you get back."

"Gil, you know I never do that," Vera joked and chuckled before getting in the car.

"She's a lovely person," Sara told him.

"Thank you."

"She is different than you though."

Grissom smirked. "I'll take that as a good thing."

"It is." Sara turned to him. "She smiles more," she said and smiled at him.

"Sara? Would you like to see the horses?" Cynthia called her.

"I'd love to," Sara responded and glanced at Grissom before she left him on porch alone.

His lips stretched for a smile but it made it more difficult for him as he sighed heavily.

Sara walked past through the glass doors and stepped out on the back porch. Used to the friendly warmth of the interior, she was icily met by the cold autumn wind. The cold caused her to stutter and immediately put the scarf around her neck. Buttoning up her coat, she then crossed her arms and pressed them strongly against her chest. She exhaled and watched as the hot breath from her mouth was slowly made invisible but it's colder cousin.

The strong light from the lamp above the doors made it possible for her to see the two wooden benches further out. She slowly walked over to them and touched the sitting surface of the right one, making sure it hadn't been dusty. She smiled tamely and sat down. The wood was cold but that was barely registered by her mind as the numerous fallen leaves scattered across the ground with their rich and pale colors caught her eye. She thought of them as pretty. This ranch was close to nature, away from the chaotic city lights, the madness of "civilization". She held her breath and realized something.

It was quiet here. Not even the wind dared to disturb this. She let out that breath. A bird was brave enough to fly somewhere to some trees. Sara heard that at least. Her left lip curled up; she sunk deeper on the wooden bench, toes of her feet touching each other, her mouth nearly covered by the colorful scarf. "Wow…" she whispered and chuckled softly. Sara could make out the shape of the trees, the two mountains and she could see the moon watching all this behind the night clouds.

The grainy ground gave out the approach of another human being out here. Her eyes looked up and saw him, with his hands in his pockets, the collar of his jacket straighten, and behind that small opening she noticed of what looked like a scarf. Funny, she had never seen him wearing one like that before

"Am I interrupting?" he asked her politely.

"Uh," Sara quickly sat up again and rubbed her hands. "No… it was getting a bit lonely here," she responded and smiled at him.

Grissom smiled back at her. He sat down next to Sara. "I didn't see you leave," he told her.

"Then how did you know I would be here?"

"I didn't," he responded.

"Ah," she smiled into her scarf. "Dinner was great."

"Cynthia's a great cook," he said.

"Couldn't agree more." Sara nodded. "You didn't tell me they had horses."

"I didn't know you liked horses."

Sara smiled briefly. "I love animals, Griss."

Grissom glanced at her. "So, you saw the horses then?"

"Yeah. Sammy, his sister Claire and the soon mother-to-be Peperutka, who I was told had the honor of being named by you," she looked at him with a curled lip.

"They insisted."

"Really…."

"Yeah."

"So, you're her godfather, huh?"

"Something like that."

"How intriguing."

"Yeah, it doesn't happen every day that one gets to be a godfather to a horse."

"It is indeed an honor."

"Most definitely."

"Jack loves dancing," Sara said and chuckled.

"Yes, he does. He said once that if he didn't have such love for insects, he would've probably been a dancer."

"Well, he is pretty good at it."

Grissom shrugged and slowly shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"They're really happy together."

"They are." Grissom swallowed.

"Two weeks…" she said. It had been the amount of time that Jack and Cynthia knew one another before deciding to get married.

"I guess, they saw their chance and just grabbed it."

"They didn't wait too long."

"No." Grissom could recognize the meaning of her sentence.

"Mm…."

"When do you think we'll get that chance?" Grissom asked, looking at the leaves on the ground.

Sara looked at him. She saw his face slowly turn to hers, his blue eyes sparkling sadly at her. "I don't think it's up to me to answer that," she replied softly and stood up. "I think… it's getting cold out here…"

"Uh, you are right," Grissom stood up and followed Sara back in the house.

Cynthia opened the door to Sara's room. "This would be your room," she told her and stepped inside along with Sara.

Large bed to the left, four bookshelves and a closet on the right, lime-colored carpet. Sara noticed the curtains next. "Butterflies," she said and smiled. The faint images of the insects spread across the transparent white curtain.

"We found out that when our friends come here they all usually prefer an insect that isn't intimating."

"The butterfly seems to be perfect choice."

"Yes, it is." Cynthia walked over to one of the drawers and opened them. "You have towels here in case you would like to take a shower and…" she then turned to Sara. "You already know where the bathroom is."

"Down the hall, yeah."

"Is the room okay?" Cynthia asked her.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

Cynthia smiled and walked over to the door. "Oh, also, we've been having some trouble with the lights recently between midnight and 4 AM, so, don't be surprised if want to go to the toilet or downstairs to get a bite to eat or something and they're not working properly. It'll get fixed on Tuesday but in the meantime…"

"It's fine."

"Okay, well, pleasant dreams."

"Thanks," Sara smiled.

When the door was closed, Sara turned around and put her bag on the bed. She had to be honest to herself that she did not expect Grissom's mother to be so outgoing and friendly. Having Grissom as a quieter person, she had expected for the woman who raised him to share that characteristic. Instead, Vera was a pleasant, lively creature, even sharing a few jokes, where Sara understood why Roberta had been chosen by Vera; her translation had been excellent, even if Sara barely knew anything about sign language.

Sara stared at the white shirt in her hands. Grissom used to be like that… at least, back in San Francisco. She sighed and took out her pajamas.

His eyes had been closed for a long time. A faint caress of someone's hand against his cheek opened them slowly again. Despite the absence of light, he could tell to whom those dark eyes belonged. They were watching him closely, from that right side. He heard her chuckle softly. "Can't sleep?" she asked him in a loving whisper.

"No," he whispered back at her and sighed.

"You're not tired?" Her voice surfaced.

"I thought I would be after everything that happened today but no."

"Aw…" she exhaled and touched his cheek. "Insomnia is a killer."

Grissom smiled and moved his face deeper into her palm. "Mm…"

"Enjoying that?" she asked him.

"Yeah, it's soft…"

He could have sworn she was smiling to this. Grissom knew what confessions like this meant to her. Those touches were delicate, smooth, something that he was in need of now.

"I could've helped you defeat many of these sleepless nights if you only let me earlier."

Grissom touched that hand with his. "Call me a coward."

She chuckled. "Don't worry." The whisper returned. "I already have."

He smirked and moved his fingers alongside her bare arm. "You know, there are many ways to make a person tired enough to fall asleep in the end."

"But only a few are really effective."

"Yes."

Her other hand touched his chest. It was a cold touch, probably because it had been cold outside. "We could try, but I think it might wake up the others…"

"Not if we're quiet," he dared her and without any effort found her lips with his.

The kiss was immediately deep; neither seemed to possess the patience to begin with something more innocent.

"You know that this might take the entire night, don't you?" Sara managed to speak after tearing her lips away from his for only a few seconds.

"I have no objections there," Grissom responded and brought her body closer to his. She was so warm… close to becoming even hotter. He heard her moan quietly and he smiled to that. Those lips slid down to her neck.

Her right leg wrapped itself around his torso, crushing the last inch of free space between them. The heath between their bodies was slowly approaching dangerous levels. It even forced his body to react so strongly to her presence that a part down low was reaching a wetter level.

He was about to moan to this arrival of pleasure when something sharp poked him in the back. Grissom did not know what that had been, but it was unexpected and disturbing enough to open his eyes and cause him to sit up on the bed.

"Oh, shit!" She quickly jumped out of the bed. "Grissom?" she sounded confused.

"Y-eah…. Sara??" He could not see her but only hear her voice.

"I'm so sorry… I thought…. I… crap. Uh, I thought this was my room." Embarrassment crept up in her voice.

"You laid down here?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry. I had to get to the toilet and the lights are out and…"

Grissom sighed. "It's fine, Sara, don't worry about it."

There was silence. "I'm sorry I woke you," she sounded apologetic.

Sara confirmed the appearance of yet another dream earlier… a more exploring dream, and one of many. "It's fine."

"Good night, Grissom."

"Night, Sara." Her footsteps were becoming quieter and quieter as she opened the door and as silently as she managed, close it behind her.

His head fell. She sounded embarrassed, guilty by her accidental intrusion; if she could tell by his voice, so was he. His dream had not been innocent, and he felt all too relieved that she could not witness the reaction on his face.

Slowly he lay down again, staring at the ceiling. What if the accidental kick of her elbow hadn't awoken him? What if, unintentionally he had her tonight in his bed in his dream and in reality? He turned to the side. Grissom was not sure if he could handle that.