Leslie's A/N: Talking to Mark, Holly's drunken husband, was possibly one of the funniest moments of my weeks. Especially when I had to defend Grissom's sexuality. Snow. Is. Great. Class got cancelled today! That NEVER happens at Suffolk. I'm stoked. Yes SMK Legacy, a combination of the snow and the Pats victory has me in SUCH a fabby mood.

This was the single funniest that was said today, talking to CSINut214: No prob. Maybe they get back to the B&B and Sara realizes she's gay! That way I don't have to write a sex scene. Brilliant!

Holly's A/N: This is in response to GraveDigger Resurrection's question in her most recent review. She noticed that there might be a little...ah, dissent, between Leslie and myself on the subject of the beard, since I just had Grissom shave the damn thing off in Facades. And with that, I guess you know where I stand. I absolutely hate the thing. It makes him look incredibly old, it hides that adorable cleft in his chin, and on top of it all, well, his face is just way too handsome to be hiding behind all that nasty hair.

I will say this: Leslie loves the beard, and even my husband, who is quite probably the most macho man in the world (and therefore loathe to say anything that might be REMOTELY misconstrued as being flattering about another man) thinks that WP looks tons better with the beard than without. And apparently the vast majority of CSI fans feel that way, too. All I can say is that I hate the damn thing. And I'm not even going to get into the discussions of a, ah, sexual nature that Les and I have had about the beard. So there. I've said my piece. ::steps down off of soapbox::

---

This, children, is what we call a 'filler chapter'. Can you say it with me?

---

Sara went home alone for what would be the first time in weeks. The piqued feeling of dread had subsided, but only after Catherine had talked her off of her 'calling-it-off' ledge. Everyone got frightened, she'd said. If she hadn't been nervous about it, now that would have been worrisome.

Still, Sara couldn't help but feel thrown off kilter, the events of the past weeks flashing behind her eyelids. Surely this turn of fortune, of good nature... would have to end sometime. In a world of infinite possibilities, the good had to be counter weighted by the bad.

This, this is exactly what she didn't need happening. Not now. Gil Grissom was everything she wanted. He was, quite literally, everything she needed in a world full of other possibilities. She knew that to be an absolute fact. Before, she'd had her wants, her needs down to a precise science, the outcome of one elaborate experiment. Knew exactly where he fit and why she needed him. Now, it felt as if someone had changed a variable on her, skewed the data so the findings were off.

'Oh god,' she thought. 'Why does my circular reasoning always come back to science?' She would have laughed at herself if she didn't feel so damn lost.

But maybe that was how she was supposed to feel? Maybe...

Sara sighed in the confines of her vehicle. 'I don't even care anymore. Just... bring it on.' She thought tiredly. Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she looked up and realized that she was driving herself to Grissom's, not to her own apartment. She groaned. 'This is not good, you're too caught up in this... this...'

But she should be caught up in the situation, after all...

"You're getting married to the man!" She shouted to herself as the light turned green. Making an illegal u-turn she sped off back in the direction of her own apartment. Glancing in the rearview mirror to check for cops, she caught sight of her wedding dress, gripping onto the garment latch for dear life.

And she smiled.

"You're getting married to the man."

---

Sara practiced her juggling skills, grabbing bags out of her Denali and making her way haphazardly up her from steps to her apartment. Her wedding gown was slung over her shoulder, the safest place for it to balance. Making it to her door with minimal cursing, she shoved the key into the lock and toppled in, splaying the contents of her arms all over the sofa. Glad with her progress, she sighed and smiled... and whipped her head around when she head someone speak behind her.

"You don't even call?" Gil was seated at the breakfast bar, coat still on, crooked smile on his face. He looked adorable in the half-light and Sara felt every inkling of nerves slide from her just as quickly as it had settled within her. "I got all worried and you-"

"Shut up." She threw sarcastically over her shoulder as she moved into her bedroom to change out of her work clothes. IT was then that she remembered her purchases that lay on the couch and her fiancées newfound penchant for snooping. Rushing back to the living room just in time, she saw him standing over her things.

"Hey, hey, hey... mind your own business." She said leaping in between him and the couch, distorting his line of vision. "And that key was only for emergencies... or so you told me supervisor Grissom." She poked him in the ribs and he slithered his arms around her shoulder.

"It was, it is an emergency." Gil promised.

"Oh really?" Skeptically, she titled her head to the side, waiting to hear her excuse. "How so?"

"I... hadn't kissed you in... hours." He said, plainly enough, face blank, as if he'd just told her something as banal as her overtime ration. Truth be told, it was a big statement for him to make; for him to come all the way to her apartment and be desperate enough to use the spare key she'd given him, as was required, when she moved to Vegas.

Sara huffed out an exaggerated sigh. "Then do it!"

His lips were on hers in a matter of seconds and she was elated by the passion that he poured into it. A small 'Mmm' was her only response, followed by her tongue lovingly stroking his. That was when it all snapped into place for Sara Sidle. Sure, she was nervous, cold feet even. But kissing him made her very happy, almost as happy as loving made her. That was probably all she had to worry about then.

She'd taken a pretty big chance on him before, after all. Moving to Vegas, not knowing what was going to happen? Loving him silently for years? Oh, she was prepared to take another risk and this, in comparison to the others, looked rather like smooth sailing.

Grissom jumped in her arms when her palms slid down to grab his ass, rather firmly. If he wasn't such a "man" he would have yelped, but all he could think to do was stop kissing her. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden? A moment ago you were picking on my ability to gain access to your-"

Cutting him off with her lips, he moaned, rather happy at her turn of heart, so to speak. Hands grasping her head suddenly, he led her to the couch and then onto it, careful to avoid her purchases, yet still, she felt the need to yelp and disengage. "Watch the dress!" Sara grabbed the bag and held it to her, finding it quite odd, her reaction.

"That's the dress?" He pondered, pulling on the plastic of the garment bag in interest. "Reallllly..." He drew out, wondering just how to gain access to the bag without incurring maximum wrath. Sara got on and hugged the bag tighter to herself.

"No way! This is the one thing I want to do right. No seeing the dress." Sara said adamantly and shoved him off of her, retreating once more to her bedroom, to hide the gown. Spinning to leave her room, she was blocked by Grissom's frame, hanging languidly in the doorway.

"I bet you look gorgeous in it." He whispered to her, his own cheeks flushing more than hers did. Head bowed, she moved forward and he enveloped her in his arms. She did think she looked rather striking, but far be it for her to actually admit that.

"S'okay." She whispered into his chest, reveling in his scent, knowing that soon, she'd be waking up next to it... every day for the rest of her life. As the notion settled into her skull, Sara realized that the marriage might be hasty... it was completely random enough to be, well, right.

Gil smiled and dropped a kiss into her hair. She'd looked stunning and she knew it, and now he knew it. Nearly salivating at the thought of seeing Sara in a wedding gown, he pulled away and looked into her eyes. "Three weeks. I can't wait." He admitted and her heart began a marathon beat in her chest.

"Show me." Came her harsh whisper as she dropped a sweet, open-mouthed kiss onto his neck. "I wanna feel you Gil." Tugging on his lapels, they both waddled into the room. She bounced herself down on the bed and he made quick work of divesting her of her shirt.

The smooth skin of her collarbone never failed to incite him and he fell to his knees, as if at worship, just to kiss her there. It was impossible for her to hold back, and her hands landed on his shoulders, kneading the muscles there.

And then she remembered. He'd just pulled a double, and had gone nearly two days without sleep. As much fun as they were about to have, he needed his rest. So, reluctantly, she let go of his shoulders and nudged his side with her knee.

"Hey, you." She whispered, touching the side of his face for effect. He started at her touch and brought heavy lidded blue eyes up to meet hers. For a moment, Sara was struck with how reverent he looked on his knees. "Maybe you should get some sleep." She continued, her thumbs stroking over the lines of his cheekbone.

Gil sat back and looked at her, confused. "You've been up for awhile, don't want your sleeping schedule to be off." Biting her lip, Sara watched on as he smiled almost thankfully as he got up and straightened his clothes. Gil walked over to her and kissed the top of her head before turned towards the door. "Wh-where are you going?" She asked, startled by his near-exit.

"Home... to sleep..." He drew out, treading lightly, though to him it was the only acceptable answer.

Sara frowned and settled back on her hands on the bed. "Oh, I just thought..."

It dawned on him suddenly what she wanted him to do and he felt like a complete and utter moron. "Oh! Oh, stay here. Yeah, I mean, yes. I can do that. If you want me to... do... that." Again, he treaded lightly not quite sure she wouldn't snap out of whatever spell she was under.

Sara's face broke out into an atomic grin, and he shifted from foot to foot. "Of course I do. We, you know, uh maybe in the morning we can discuss some things... thoroughly. Like the fact that yeah we're getting married but... we have yet to even discuss living situations."

Awfully sharp, that Sara Sidle. It was true, the two of them needed to discuss inevitable topics before it became so colloquial and they were married but each clinging to their old abodes. That would make no sense, to either of them. "We should, and we will. Tomorrow." He added adamantly before moving to take off his windbreaker. Sara's grin subsided into a soft smile.

They both undressed and laid in the bed, his hand on her hips, her head somewhere up in the clouds. "Griss, I uh, are you nervous I mean..."

"Of course I am." He answered immediately, stroking her warm skin with his thumb.

Sara leaned back into his warmth and relished the feeling of the man enveloping her. "Good, me too."

They drifted to sleep, nerves set to bed for the evening.

---

Sara found it increasingly difficult to wake up in the morning if she was solitary, but only if she'd gone to bed with someone the night before. She felt devoid of warmth, and the relaxation in her bones wasn't something that she wanted to revel in. In fact, she set about vaulting herself from the bed, off to investigate as to her bedfellow's whereabouts.

Thankfully, she found him in her kitchen, sipping coffee and thumbing through an old forensic journal. She knew the issue well, so well, that it was dog-eared. But he, he appeared to be invested in the article he was reading, his face a mask of concentration. Sara held back and watched him for a moment, soaked up the comfortable silence, the warmth he exuded.

She found it odd that such an outwardly awkward and belligerent man could inspire her to think such things, and she smiled at the random wonderment of it all. Walking forward slowly, quietly, she touched his arm, startling him into a laugh.

"Didn't see you there." He replied, pushing out a stool for her, standing to retrieve a mug of coffee.

"That was the point." Sara replied, rolling the sleep from her tongue with a yawn. Grissom smiled at the innocence that remained glued to her form, sleep did that to some people. In fact, it made her look angelic, as if he should live in fear to touch her, for he might mar her skin. But he was waxing far too poetic to handle at such an early hour. Coffee poured, he set it down in front of her with a flourish and sat back down.

It was comfortable, the two of them being domestic. That helped to abate the last vestiges of nervousness from her body and she visibly relaxed. "You know," She began, voice bordering on teasing, "You got a full eight hours of sleep. Feeling re-reenergized." She hid her grin behind her coffee mug and watched as he slowly brought his head out of the article.

"Tell me that was rhetorical." he mumbled before tossing the journal aside, standing, and kissing her neck.

Sara groaned happily, the endorphins rushing directly to her head. "'S whatever you want it to be, keep with the kissy." It was said on a mumble and Grissom willed himself not to laugh. 'The kissy?' But he did, lips on her skin, until she pleaded with him for more, just a little bit.

They somehow tumbled to the bedroom, to forget the insanity that they were abreast of.