DISCLAIMER : I don't own CSI nor it's characters. Everything belongs to the brains behind this wonderful show. Props go out to them. :D

AUTHOR'S NOTE : Set Post-Butterflied. Still unsure as to how this story is going to unfold and I like it that way. I could surprise the readers and myself. :D

The title may also change.

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CHAPTER IX

Sara was grateful for that cup of coffee she had with Nick just before shift earlier. Here she was, trudging through the dark and dirt making sure she didn't miss anything. She had been surprised when she found out that tonight she was working with Grissom.

It had been hard, the past days. She had avoided being alone with Grissom, telling herself that if she was to stop feeling the way she was about Grissom, the first thing she needed to do was spend as less time as she could around him. Despite successfully doing so, she couldn't stop herself from constantly thinking about the guy.

The drive to their crime scene, a long stretch of highway away from the busy lights of the city, had been eerily silent. Grissom kept his eyes focused on the road, while Sara stared at the window. Half of her wanted Grissom to say something, the other part was thankful he didn't bring up their last conversation.

She occasionally stole brief looks at Grissom's profile and wondered what he was thinking. "Is he as uncomfortable with this as I am?" Sara asked herself, fidgeting with the zipper of her forensic jacket.

Several questions ran through Sara's mind -- questions that she really shouldn't be thinking about anymore. She pushed them aside and abandoned her jacket zipper and tried to turn the radio on, hoping for some distraction.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" The question was moot because she was already turning it on while she asked.

Sara noticed that Grissom merely shook his head at her. Turning the tuner knob, Sara disappointedly switched from one radio station to another, only to hear depressing songs being played on the different stations.

Irritated, she sighed loudly and switched the damned thing off.

"Changed your mind?" Grissom smiled at her, catching her off-guard for a moment.

"Depressing songs... makes one think of suicide." Sara replied, giving him one of her reserved smiles. "I hate it when they all play the same kind of songs."

"Suicide, huh?" Grissom commented, his voice not really carrying humor anymore.

"Oh my god! He thinks I've been contemplating suicide!" Sara thought to herself and somehow found it funny. "Yeah, that or it makes people stuff themselves silly with chocolates or junk food."

Grissom laughed softly, sounding relieved that Sara was not serious about the whole suicide remark.

After that small lapse in silence, they reverted back to what they were previously doing. He, concentration on the road, hands steady on the steering wheel and she, staring at nothing but darkness from the passenger window.

"Found anything yet?" Grissom's question startled Sara out of her reverie. She hadn't realized that she had been standing in one spot for a long time while she was thinking back to their earlier ride to the scene.

"Umm... not yet ... just a couple of drag marks, but nothing big yet." Sara distractedly said.

"You okay?" he frowned at her apparent disorientation.

"Yeah ... I'm fine." Sara looked at him shortly and as if to prove her point, lifted an eyebrow and asked, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Receiving nothing but a raised eyebrow from her supervisor, she turned around and continued to hunt for more evidence to catch the whack-job that ran over and hid their victim's body.

x x x x x x x x

He admired the view from afar, enjoying the unnoticed moment.

She bent down, her wonderful legs supporting her slim figure. He had spent countless nights dreaming of those legs. In his dreams, they were wrapped tightly, possessively around him, not letting him go for one single second.

He saw Sara flip her hair to one side as she inspected something closer. The action gave him a great view of her elegant neck. He longed to spread his hands on her neck and feel its smoothness. He longed to entangle his fingers through the mass of her hair. Would they feel as silky as they were in his dreams? Would she close her eyes and moan in pleasure if he massaged her scalp lovingly?

He knew that he shouldn't be doing this here and now. Not when there was a chance that he'd get caught. But the picture presented right in front of him wouldn't let him be. So instead, he continued to watch her, hoping that nobody would notice.

His attention was brought to Sara's lips. Sara's wonderful lips. How many nights have those lips tormented him, keeping him awake, wondering how soft they would feel against his own. He had to stop himself from not caring and approach her to find out how they would feel.

Unconsciously, his tongue peeked out of his mouth to moisten his suddenly dry lips.

"Look, but don't touch?" A voice rang from behind him. He turned away from the vision he was watching to find the smiling face of his friend, Jim Brass.

"Hey Jim." Grissom greeted his friend, slightly annoyed at having been caught staring at Sara.

"Have you talked to her yet?" Jim Brass asked, smiling at the thought of catching Gil Grissom in one of his unguarded moments.

"Talked to whom about what?" Grissom played innocent as best as he could.

"Don't give me that crap." Brass laughed. "How long have we been friends? Don't think you can pull that on me."

Grissom sighed and turned away from Brass to land his eyes back at Sara once again.

"I've been meaning to..." Grissom replied, his words buried under his breath. "I ... I don't know how to go about it though."

"I gotta tell you Gil," Brass stepped closer to his friend, "I'm worried about her. She ... I miss the old Sara."

"What do you mean?" Grissom turned, a confused question in his eyes.

"I miss the smile. I miss the smirk and believe it or not, I miss that pout." Brass laughed softly at the last bit.

Jim Brass heard Grissom let out a long and heavy sigh before hearing him say, "Me too, Jim. Me too."

"Look, I don't profess to know much about relationships, seeing as how my own marriage failed miserably, but" Brass gestured towards the crime scene that was in front of them, "This job? We deal with death more times than a person should see ... I'd hate to see somebody so beautiful fall slowly into it."

Grissom's gaze drifted back to Sara's bent figure. Jim was right and he would be lying if he didn't acknowledge that much. He had noticed how Sara was slowly disappearing right before his, and her colleagues eyes. And he knew that he was mostly to blame for that. He missed the old relationship he had with Sara. He missed the smiles Sara would only give him or that tingling feeling he gave her whenever he would accidentally-on-purpose brush against her. He wondered when and how things got so complicated.

As he thought about an answer to his own question, he realized that things were only as complicated as he allowed it to be. Was it time to throw caution to the wind? Was it time to just find out how good loving Sara would be?

As he looked upon Sara, Grissom once again felt, after a very long time, that here was another shot at living a life worth telling your grandchildren about.

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A/N : Sorry this took forever to be updated. Things are rather going 'loca' at the office. :D

It may also be a 'meh' chapter. Sorry folks, forgive me?