Disclaimer: All right everyone, sing along… "I don't own CSI, its characters, or anything associated with the show. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is the sole property of CBS and Alliance Atlantis." This document was written purely based on the fact that my muse will not stop nagging me. For the entertainment of you folks only.

Spoiler: Nesting Dolls, etc.

A/N: OK - I wanted to report a tragedy and why there has been a 3 day delay in the updating of this fic. On Thursday night, at 9:56 p.m. EST, my heart shattered into a million pieces, injuring my muse during the explosion. She has been recovering for the past 3 days, and she now feels we are ready to continue. We both apologize for the delay, and we thank YTDAW and those here that are writing post-Unbearable fics. They have helped my muse recover. I, personally, am inconsolable.

Also, thank you very much for the reviews. I love you, reviewers!

Sara recovered first.

"Griss… Grissom. Wait."

She pushed gently against his chest, backing away from him to stare into his eyes. They shone with a blue fire she had only seen a flicker of before. Seeing it now, at full intensity, ate away at her resolve. She almost submitted when he bent to kiss her again, but she stepped back slowly instead.

"Grissom, " she said again, more firmly.

He blinked and she could see the fire fade. Confusion, awkwardness and the typical male frustration replaced it. He stepped back and sighed.

"I see."

"No, wait. Okay, look, we both know that was probably long overdue. But now is not the time or place to … pursue that. It wouldn't be right and you know it. Why don't we just… sit for a bit, okay?"

Sara gestured to the bench behind them. She never expected that she'd be putting the brakes on Grissom, but then again, she never really expected to be in that situation with Grissom, and now that it had occurred, she wasn't really sure what to do about it. Sure, she dreamed about it, but dreams and reality are two different things, and reality was screaming through her brain, loud and clear. She sat down, her legs feeling rather wobbly.

I just made out with my supervisor. I just made out with GRISSOM. Oh God, now what?

Grissom sat down, defensive walls returning, ardor cooling. He wasn't looking at her. Sara became a little annoyed.

What does he expect? We cross the line and I'm going to just spread my legs for him?

"I'm sorry," Grissom said quietly.

"No, wait. It isn't like that. God… Grissom, you know how I feel about you, okay? Let's not go there. Let's just sit here, and … regroup for a second. We are supposed to be at work, you know."

A sudden thought hit Sara like a freight train.

"Greg! He's back at the lab! He's probably going nuts looking for me and for you. Crap. Now everyone is going to know we left and put two and two together and get God-Knows-What."

"No they aren't. I handled it."

"What do you mean… you handled it?"

"I told Greg before shift that I would be speaking with you and that it might take some time. He was to keep himself occupied until I would call him with further instructions."

"Always one step ahead of me, aren't you?"

Sara smiled at him and reached out to touch his hand. She gave it a soft squeeze and he raised his head to look at her.

She had never seen him look more awkward, and a wave of guilt splashed over her. He probably isn't used to this. God knows the last time he's been with a woman.

She decided to take control. She'd done it before, she could do it again.

"So. Let's talk about my 'disciplinary action'. You say you want me to come and report to you for a half-hour after each shift. Without pay. What about you? Are you getting paid OT for that?"

"No."

"Okay. And no solo or Sophia. I suppose those are acceptable terms for me."

"Well I am glad you concur." There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Boy he doesn't like it when he doesn't get his way, does he?

Sara was sure once her head stopped spinning and her heart stopped pounding, she would think about this again and wonder whether it really had happened. And what it meant. She would analyze it for hours. But for right now, her primary thought was to get them out of here, and back to work, and away from one another.

And she knew how to make it happen.

"Look. We should probably discuss this later, because right now, I really don't know what to think. I'm sure you probably agree. And we need to get back to the lab."

Grissom shifted away from her, his eyes cool. He was uncomfortable yes, but he was also a little annoyed.

Oh yeah, he isn't liking this. Too bad.

"If that's what you want, Sara."

"Yes, it is."

Sara felt a familiar feeling of disappointment with herself, wondering if she ruined something before it began. But something deep inside told her that it wasn't right this way, that it wasn't the right time. God, what a time to go all moralistic.

They walked back to the Denali in silence.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Grissom called Greg's cell when they returned to the car.

"Greg, I want you to leave to go to the Lincolnside Auto Dealership now. Sara will be meeting you there."

"Okay, boss. Hey, where are you?"

"Not with you. Now get to the scene."

"Okay, bye."

Grissom hung up his cellphone and placed it in the front dash cup holder. He needed to return to his senses. His mind was reeling out of control, and his body was on fire, some parts much more than others. He tried to think of unrelated things, like bugs and plants and paperwork.

He glanced over at Sara, sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the passenger window like before. The fire he'd felt before returned, engulfing him.

She's beautiful. I have to have her.

Thoughts of ravishing her in the Denali exploded into his brain. He grimaced with frustration. This was not good. Perhaps she was wise to stop them when she did.

But boy, did it sting at his pride. He didn't know what he expected, but once he started kissing her, he did not want to stop. Logic prevailed.

What do you think? You're going to just have her, right there in the park? That's illegal, pal.

His grimace deepened. This was why it was a bad idea to cross this line. Logic, logic, logic. Now what happened? Did she expect something from him? What did he expect from her? Images bombarded his brain, images of Sara in his arms, in his bed, in his apartment smiling at him as he made her coffee.

Jesus. He shook his head slightly, his rational side trying to maintain control.

It was a long drive to the auto dealership.