A/N: Background on this story: This little…thing…was hatched as I was sitting in the middle of Destin Commons last weekend, enjoying a FOUR DOLLAR scoop of ice cream. I was thinking that the last time I was in Destin Commons, it was in my mind, as that was one of the places I took Griss and Sara in my behemoth, Facades. My thoughts quickly descended into what a giant horse's ass Grissom is, and from there, I started thinking about the only other person I could ever see Sara being with. I started writing this story in my head right then and there, but I had to wait three days until I got home to actually write it down. I'm quite certain it's a piece of crap, and it's obviously not the usual GSR sap-fest that you've all come to expect from me. I just wanted you to know. Forewarned is forearmed, right?

Standing there at the reception desk, he was engaging in a polite bit of small talk with a blonde, gum-cracking secretary, when he saw her. Sara Sidle. She was walking down the hall toward Reception, laughing at something she was reading in a file. At the sight of her now-rare, heart-stopping grin, he felt his own grin begin to form. Even after almost two years, it felt liberating to be able to admit to himself—if no one else—that he was in love with her. He wasn't sure that he would ever be able to admit it to anyone else; there were, after all, some delicate issues to be overcome, not the least of which was her complicated relationship with another of her co-workers, the inimitable Gil Grissom. But for now, he was content to work with her, admire her, and when she wasn't looking, watch over her.

His thoughts wound themselves to a close and he wrapped up his exchange of pleasantries with the ditzy secretary just as Sara reached him. "Hey," she said amiably. "You staying busy tonight?"

He rolled his eyes and offered her a sarcastic snort. "Ever known me to be anything but?"

She smiled and started to reply, but Gil Grissom chose that exact moment to come striding through the front doors, hands full of evidence.

Brass watched carefully.

"Hey, Grissom," Sara smiled.

"Hmm? Oh, hey, Sara," Grissom said distractedly, barely gracing her with a look before heading off toward his office. Brass registered the barest flicker of hurt cross Sara's eyes before she replaced it with her normal expressionless façade. Inwardly, he was alternating between beating his head against an imaginary wall at his friend's stupidity and nursing a heartache for Sara and the pain that she surely nursed where that oblivious jackass was concerned.

He thought back to when he had fallen in love with her. It hadn't been an instant epiphany, with fireworks and a bevy of sopranos from the Met singing Handel in the background. No, it had been gradual—gradual and so subtle he hadn't even realized it was happening until it was done. Sara had worked her way into his heart, slowly, easily—as if she had every right to be there. And it was only when he woke up for the fifth day in a row and thought of her before he even opened his eyes that he realized—he was completely and inexplicably in love with Sara Sidle.

That was the day the lab exploded.

It wasn't enough that she was injured. No, she had to scare the bejesus out of him twice in one day—first by nearly getting herself killed in the explosion, then by being reckless at a crime scene. He recalled the hard edge in his voice as he practically yelled, "Holster your weapon!" He doubted Sara would ever guess that it was fueled by pure terror for her safety. He had yelled at her, but that was only because he couldn't do what he wanted, nay, needed, to do—drop everything and take her in his arms to make sure she was really okay. He had wanted to wrap his arms around her tightly and cradle her against him. The thought of what could have happened at that crime scene still gave him occasional nightmares.

He was unceremoniously dragged back to the present as he realized Sara was talking to him. "He-lllooo…Brass…" she sing-songed, playfully waving a hand over his eyes.

Brass shook his head and smiled. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

Sara grinned. "Nothing important. Just small talk, but I couldn't resist the urge to tease you when I realized you weren't even in the same universe." She flashed him another grin and shrugged. "I'll see you later." She turned to go, and in a completely unexpected moment of pure insanity, Brass reached out and grabbed her arm.

She turned back toward him and before he was even quite aware of what he was doing, he tilted his head and asked, "You're off tomorrow night, aren't you?"

She mirrored his head-tilt and wrinkled her eyebrows. "Yeah…" she drawled, wondering where he was going.

With no nervousness or hesitation whatsoever, Jim Brass threw all his chips in. "So am I. Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Sara froze in disbelief. She couldn't possibly have been more taken aback if Nicky had suddenly popped out of the woodwork and proceeded to sweep her into a passionate kiss. Up until this point, Jim Brass and romantic notions didn't even belong in the same universe as far as she was concerned; yet, here she was, seriously considering his proposal. And to her surprise, the idea appealed to her. Slowly, she nodded. A faint smile began to spread across her lips as she replied, "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

Brass nodded calmly. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven. Dress casually."

"Okay. See you then." And with another smile and a light touch to his elbow, she was gone.

Where the hell did that come from? Brass wondered to himself. Rolling his eyes, he groaned inwardly at what he had to do next.

TBC…