Sara walked into the lab that night with a bounce in her step. She hated to admit it to herself, because it was so un-Sara, but she was dizzy with excitement. She absolutely could not wait to open her locker and see what was inside. She was, of course, curious as to how her admirer had gained access to her locker, but it wouldn't be that hard to do. It would be easy enough if her admirer were a co-worker (which she was fairly certain it was; after all, she didn't really know anyone outside of work...)—it's not like locker combinations were closely guarded federal secrets or anything. They were all on file somewhere, and it would be an easy enough to task to dig the information up.

She desperately hoped that there would be no one in the locker room, because she didn't want to have to explain anything. She had a feeling she would never live it down. Finding herself as a target of good-natured teasing was nothing new to Sara Sidle, but still, it got old from time to time, even though she knew it was the result of great affection on the part of her co-workers. Walking into the locker room, she breathed a sigh of relief when she was no one around. She practically skipped to her locker and spun the combination eagerly. Opening the door, she looked inside and blinked in disbelief. That could not be what she thought it was. She would recognize that label anywhere, but it simply could not be. She bent down and looked closer. It was. Reaching in, she pulled the item out and inspected it closely to make sure her eyes were not playing tricks on her. She read the label carefully. Champagne Cuvée Dom Perignon Vintage. Sitting back on the bench behind her, her cheeks puffed out as she blew out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Whoa. A bottle of Dom Perignon...unbelievable. The stuff ran nearly $200 a bottle. She had never tasted it before. Coming to her senses, she looked back into her locker to see if there was any accompanying explanation. There, lying on the floor of her locker was the card. She opened it, and read the message carefully.

My dearest Sara,

Just another small token of my affection.

Take this home with you and tuck it away.

We'll open it together—soon.

More to come tomorrow. Have a wonderful evening. I'll be thinking of you.

All my love.

Sara smiled a quiet smile as she imagined who her admirer might be, but it quickly faded when she realized that it didn't matter. It would never be the one person she wanted it to be. Would it? Sara dismissed the thought. This was too unlike Grissom. They barely even spoke these days; going from 0 to 60 in no time flat wasn't his style. If he had finally figured out what to do about "this," she knew that his advances would be a lot more subtle. Her shoulders slumped in dejection. 'Still,' she thought to herself. 'What a fantastic, romantic gift. Might as well enjoy this while it lasts.' She placed the bottle of champagne back in her locker, along with the card, and headed to the break room for assignments.

----------

As Sara walked into the break room, Grissom noticed that she seemed totally normal. She didn't seem distracted at all, and for a moment, he wondered if she had seen his gift, but he had watched her enter the locker room. He knew she was probably mulling the whole thing over in her mind. She was showing that tough exterior again. She was unwilling to wear her emotions on her sleeve. He used to appreciate that quality in her, but now...he wanted her to know that she could let her guard down from time to time. He wanted to hold her and protect her. He felt his heart swell and had to remind himself to be patient. He would reveal himself to her soon enough, but he had to do this in truly grand fashion, to assuage all her doubts about whether or not he was serious.

He cleared his throat and started handing out assignments. He had purposely paired himself with Sara tonight so he could gauge her attitude about this whole thing. If he suspected it was going wrong in any way, shape, or form, he would immediately drop the act and tell her everything. He couldn't risk losing her just for the sake of trying to sweep her off her feet. He wanted to sweep her off her feet to prove to her how serious he was, but not at the risk of her emotional well-being.

"Warrick, Catherine, you've got a home invasion in Desert Shores. Nick, smash-and-grab out in Henderson. Sara, you're with me—we've got 2 DBs at the Bellagio." At this, Sara's head snapped up in shock. He was actually pairing them together? Hell had indeed frozen over, she thought mildly.

----------

Grissom stole a glance at Sara as she sat in the floor of the hotel suite, bagging evidence. It was your garden variety murder-suicide scenario, but Sara was diligently preserving evidence, nonetheless. God, he loved watching her work. He loved watching her do anything. They had spoken very little that evening, but had worked in a fairly comfortable silence, sensing each other's moves and thoughts, and responding in kind. It seemed like old times. Except now that he had admitted his feelings to himself, he found it painfully hard to be near her and not act on it. Well, ok, it had always been hard to be near her and not act on it, but now it was just...unbearable. Two more nights, he told himself. Just hang on for two more nights. With a barely suppressed sigh, he got back to work.

Later, on the drive back to the lab, he decided to attempt a conversation. Taking a deep breath, he prayed he wouldn't regret this. Every time he opened his mouth around her, he seemed to screw up. Steeling himself, he forced his voice to sound casual. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry that we haven't been...right...lately. I know that it's entirely my fault, and I'd like to work on it. Is that okay with you?" He gripped the steering wheel and glanced over at her as he waited for her answer. To his surprise, her eyes were filled with quiet surprise. She hadn't expected this.

"Wow, Grissom. I, uh, I don't know what to say. Yeah, I'd like that." She drew in a deep breath and took a chance. "I've missed you."

Grissom sagged with relief. "I've missed you, too," he admitted with a little smile. Sara thought to herself at that moment that she could see exactly what he must have looked like as a small boy. The rest of the drive was spent in pleasant silence.

When Grissom and Sara arrived back at the lab, he headed into his office to tackle some paperwork. As he absentmindedly signed forms, he considered the evidence he had before him as it pertained to Sara. First of all, he deduced that she was enjoying his little gifts. She was playing along with everything. If she had been irritated or freaked out by the whole thing, she could have easily figured out who her admirer was. There were any number of clues to lead her back to him, not the least of which was the fingerprints he had left all over everything. If she had any doubts, all she would have to do was dust the champagne bottle or the cards, run the prints through AFIS, and boom, Gil Grissom would pop up. She had obviously not done this, so she must be enjoying the game. Second, she had not given him any indications, positive or negative, during their case that night that would clue him into anything out of the ordinary. So he judged that her emotional state was rather stable. He knew from his visit to the Center for Sports Medicine that morning that she had indeed taken advantage of the massage, so he knew she'd been getting the cards. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands. Yes, everything seemed to be going as planned. He could proceed with his next step. But for that, he would need Catherine...