Chapter Seven

Grissom pulled his Tahoe up behind Sara's and put it into park. She was sitting on the steps of his townhouse with her head in her hands.

"Yeah, honey," he said to himself, "I know how you feel."

He got out of the car and walked over to her. God, she's beautiful, he thought. Sara didn't look up as he sat beside her. He picked up her left hand and wrapped his fingers with hers, long and slender. He rubbed his thumb along her wrist, pressing gently on her heartbeat as it pulsed there.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asked, his voice barely audible in her ear.

Sara surprisingly stood up, taking Grissom's hand with her and tugged him to his feet. She didn't say anything. She simply gestured toward the door and smiled when he fumbled with his key.

"Are you nervous?" she whispered.

Grissom didn't look up at her. He unlocked the door and pushed it open for her. Sara stepped in first, taking in her surroundings. Even shrouded in darkness, his apartment felt familiar. She slipped off her shoes while Grissom stood in the doorway, his eyes on her back. She dropped her jacket on the floor. The door closed.

Grissom woke up to the shrill ring of his cell phone. He rolled over and grabbed it off of the nightstand before it woke the sleeping woman beside him.

"Grissom."

"Gil, it's Jim, we've got your warrant," Brass told him.

Grissom pulled himself up in his bed and rubbed his eyes.

"Gil, you there?" Brass asked.

"Yeah, sorry. Um, I'll call Sara, we'll be right there."

Grissom disconnected the call. He dropped the phone in his lap and rubbed his eyes again, this time checking the clock. It was nearly eleven a.m. Shift was over and he and Sara hadn't been around for most of it. He glanced over his shoulder at her. Hair fanned out over his pillow, she was sound asleep. She was perfect that way and something in the pit of his stomach tightened. He could get used to waking up beside her every evening. Having breakfast, driving to work, it wasn't an unreal idea.

Work was calling now and he hated to wake her. They'd really only been asleep for a couple of hours and he knew that she'd be exhausted. He was exhausted and his muscles were sore, muscles he'd nearly forgotten about. She would be too, he knew, and he reached out to rub her back, wanting to comfort her already.

Sara moaned a little in her sleep and Grissom smiled to himself.

"Sara, honey, you need to get up," he whispered, leaning in close to her face.

She was smiling and he wondered if she was dreaming about him, or them.

"Sara."

"Hmm, you know I hate it when you say my name like that," she mumbled into her pillow, "What time is it?"

"Eleven, and we've got to head back to the lab."

Sara sat upright then and looked past him at the clock.

"Oh god," she muttered.

"Don't worry about the time, Sara, just get up and get dressed and we'll head in, if need be, we'll think of an excuse for where we've been."

Sara didn't seem convinced. She looked at him curiously, trying to figure out who was sitting in front of her and where the real Grissom had gone. Cool, collected and serious equaled the real Grissom. This Grissom was telling her he'd think of a plan later when the need arose instead of thinking of one now and being prepared. Sara shook her head absently.

"What?" Grissom asked, still smiling for her.

"Nothing, I was just wondering if the real Grissom ran out on me last night because I don't think I know you," Sara told him seriously.

He knew she was kidding and he knew what she meant. He felt like a different person. He had expected that, how could a night with Sara not change him?

"Let's go, Sara," he snapped, playfully grabbing her by the arms and hauling her up, "We're going to be late."

"I think the opportunity to be late has past," Sara said, "Shift ended a few hours ago."

Grissom laughed a little, "Of course, but we still have Brass."

"I don't know," Sara said, "I like making him wait."

Dressing had immediately become a problem because every time Sara looked over and caught a glimpse of Grissom, her imagination went in circles. Eventually, she'd had to force herself to head into the bathroom. When they'd finished dressing in their respective areas, they joined together in the living room.

"Do you want something to eat before we go?" Grissom asked, buttoning the last couple of buttons of his polo shirt.

"No, I think I'll be all right," Sara said, "Besides, I know I said I liked making Brass wait, but I think we're pushing our luck."

They made it out the door and Sara waited on the bottom step as Grissom locked up. He turned to face her and she smiled. Only in her wildest dreams had she ever thought she'd wake up in Grissom's arms. He had so adamantly turned her down once and now that seemed like forever ago. They'd spent the night together. Not really of course because it had been early morning by the time they'd actually made it to his house. But he'd made love to her. He'd held her and touched her and loved her and everything was different now.

Unconsciously, Sara reached out for his hand.

Together, they turned toward their vehicles parked on the street.

"Hey, you got your car back!"

"Ecklie handed me the keys this morning. They didn't find anything, of course, and Carvello wasn't very happy about that," Grissom told her, "Your kit's in the back but it'll have to be restocked."

"That's all right," Sara said, "I'm just glad this shit is over."

To that Grissom didn't reply. There was no doubt in his mind that Ecklie and Carvello would hold this over their heads for a long time. But he didn't tell Sara that, he didn't need to upset her.

"Why don't you swing by your place and change," Grissom suggested, "I'll head to the lab, pick up our warrant and pick you up on my way out."

"You remember where I live?" Sara asked playfully.

"It's only been a few hours, Sara. I know how to get there," he told her. And I've only driven by a hundred times wondering if I should stop, he thought.

"All right. I'll go home and shower and change."

Sara leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"I'll see you soon."

Grissom watched her get in her truck first and she waved as she pulled away from the curb. He smiled at her and climbed into his own truck, heading in the opposite direction.

Nick and Warrick arrived in the morgue less than five minutes after David had paged them.

"Why, you guys have got quick response time," David told them when the entered, "Maybe you should give Grissom and Sara a lesson in professional courtesy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked.

"Well, earlier, when Doc Robbins paged Gil, they didn't show for nearly an hour," David explained.

At his statement, Nick glanced over at Warrick who only shrugged.

"Anyway, I pulled some spinal fluid from the remains you two dug up and sent them to trace. A match to the blood you found in the trash can and the dentals match a one 'James, Erin'," David said. "Definitely your girl. The neck's broken. Cause of death."

"Could a fall have caused the fracture?" Warrick asked.

"Definitely."

"Great, David, thanks," Nick said as they turned to go. They reached the doors and he called over his shoulder, "I'll talk to Gris about that courtesy thing for you."

Grissom dropped Allison Conners' file on his desk and switched on the lamp there. He sat in his chair and closed his eyes, yawning heavily. He was exhausted from his round with Sara and, if he knew her the way he thought he did, he wouldn't sleep at all before his next shift.

"You look half asleep," Catherine announced as she placed herself in a chair across from his desk.

He yawned again, "Thank you for pointing that out, Catherine."

"Sorry, Gil, but I'm an investigator, I'm supposed to notice these things," she said smiling, "How's Sara? Did you leave her at home in bed?"

Grissom shot her a warning look, "Watch what you say, Catherine. No one else in the lab knows about this and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Relax, Gil I won't say anything else," Catherine told him, laughing. "I just had to ask seeing that she isn't here with you right now."

Grissom rolled his eyes, "If you must know, she went home to change her clothes and restock her field kit. We're searching a suspect's house in an hour. Brass just supplied our warrant."

Catherine smiled, "Was that the first time?"

"Catherine," Grissom snapped, "Out."

She laughed again, getting up from her chair.

"Okay, okay," she moved toward the door, "But I never want to catch the two of in the office!"

"Out!"

Grissom pulled up in front of Sara's apartment building and parked his car. He didn't get out. He had enough sense to know that, it he went in after Sara, he wouldn't be able to restrain himself. He looked up to the window he knew belonged to her bedroom and noticed that it was open and the curtains were blowing. He picked up his cell phone and dialed Sara's home number.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he said, "I'm outside."

"Well come on up," she said, "I'm almost ready."

"I don't think that's a good idea, honey," he told her, "I'll just wait for you out here."

Sara laughed, "What happened to the stubborn, self-controlled man I fell in love with?"

"He died this morning in his bedroom."

Sara laughed again and he could almost hear her smile.

"Just hurry, all right? I told Brass we'd meet him there in half an hour."

"I'll be down in a minute," Sara told him.

They hung up and Grissom couldn't help watching Sara's window, hoping to get a glimpse of her there. He saw her shadow pass by the blowing curtains just before she shut the window. She hadn't noticed his car in the lot so she hadn't seen him smile.

It took ten minutes after his call for Sara to actually get into the car with him. She put her kit on the backseat, leaning into him for a quick kiss before putting on her seatbelt.

"Where does this kid live?"

"Take a guess."

Sara cocked her head at him and smiled, "Bellview?"

Nick and Warrick pulled up in front of Camille James' home.

"Think she'll come quietly?" Nick asked.

Warrick shrugged as he knocked on the woman's door.

"Oh," Mrs. James said as she opened the door for them, "Is there something I can help you with Mr. Brown?"

"Mrs. James, we have a warrant to search your home as well as your car," Nick said, handing the paper to the woman, "And, if you could step outside, Lieutenant McLaughlin would like a word with you."

"What's this about?" Mrs. James asked.

"Lieutenant McLaughlin will tell you all about it," Warrick said, watching the woman as she was escorted from the house.

"I'll take the upstairs."

Warrick nodded and entered the living room that had been their original crime scene.

"Do you know where I can find Frederick Evans?" Sara asked.

A young man, half asleep and half dressed stood in the doorway to apartment 3B of the Bellview Townhouses. He cocked a smile at Sara and looked her up and down.

"Depends. Who's asking?"

Sara smiled, holding up her id. for him, "Sara Sidle, Las Vegas Crime Lab."

The smile disappeared. The boy pulled the door open a little farther and let Sara in. She took a look around the apartment. It was small, and extremely clean for a college student. Books were stacked neatly on the table to her right next to a telephone. There wasn't much clutter in the living room and she noticed that even the entertainment center was well organized.

"I'm Mark Henderson, Rick's my roommate," the boy said quickly, "He's not here right now. Actually, I haven't seen him for a few days."

"Mr. Henderson, what kind of car does Mark drive?" Sara asked, looking out a window that overlooked the parking lot. She smiled at Grissom as he leaned against him truck, cellphone to his ear.

"A, uh, an 01' Mustang," Mark told her, "A graduation present from his parents."

"High school?"

"Yeah."

"Huh, wealthy parents," Sara said, picking up a framed photo off of the end table. "Is that Rick's girlfriend?"

She showed Mark the picture of Rick and Allison Conners.

"Alli? No, Alli's my girlfriend," Mark said, taking the picture from Sara. "I thought she was why you were here. Look, Alli and I sort of, well, we broke up right before she was killed. I hadn't been with her for two weeks or so when she died. And I was visiting my parents in Oklahoma that week. Call them, they'll tell you I was there."

Sara took in everything Mark had told her. Damn, she thought, This girl was two-timing a lot of people.

"Mark, I'm sorry about Allison and I believe that you were in Oklahoma, but I need you to give me a sample of your DNA," Sara told him, "It will help me clear you."

Mark shrugged, "Whatever you need."

Sara pulled a swab from the pocket of her vest, "Just open your mouth for a sec."

He did and she collected what she needed.

"Thanks, now, what color is Rick's car?"

"Green," Mark told her, going to the window, "It's that one right there."

Sara pulled out her cell phone and called Grissom.

"Green mustang to your right."

Ten minutes later, Sara stood beside Grissom in the parking lot. A flashlight in her right hand, she leaned over the passenger seat of the car.

"Is it just me, or does this car smell like it's just been cleaned?"

Grissom glanced up at her as she pulled a bottle of luminal from her kit. Sara sprayed the luminal on the back of the passenger seat and attached a UV shield to the end of her flashlight.

"No blood," she told him, "But there is vaginal fluid."

Grissom was still staring at her when she looked back up.

"No semen?" he asked.

"Not that I can tell," she said, "Guy could've been wearing a condom."

Sara moved on to the driver's side of the car while Grissom remained looming over the passenger seat. They worked silently beside each other for a few minutes and the tension between them was making Sara crazy. She nearly missed their most important piece of evidence.

"I've got a condom wrapper," she announced, holding it up with her tweezers.

"I've got a hair with the folicle still in tact."

"Let's hope this kid gave us something good to go on," Sara said, bagging the little foil wrapper.

"Nick!"

Nick bounded up the stairs toward the sound of Warrick's voice.

"Where are you man?"

"First door on your left."

Warrick entered the room behind Nick. He scanned the room quickly and raised his flashlight to Nick's face.

"How the hell did we miss this, man?" he asked.

The two CSIs surveyed the mess around them. The bedroom in which they stood once belonged to Erin James, obvious by the large wooden letters hanging above the queen size bed against the opposite wall. Clothes where strewn about and there was blood on the bedspread. Nick moved to the bed to take a swab and Warrick shook his head.

"What happened here?"

Sara walked down the hall with Allison Conners' casefile open in her hands. She glanced down at the photo of the interior of Frederick Evan's car, hoping maybe she'd find something that she and Grissom had initially missed. She had photos of the vaginal fluid stain on the passenger seat, and of the condom wrapper that had been stuck between the seat and the floor, but nothing seemed to stand out to her.

When she reached the trace lab, she found Greg with his head down on his desk in the corner. She stood in front of him, closing the file and staring at him intently. The steady rythme of his breath told her that he had actually fallen asleep.

"Greg," she said, shaking him softly, "Hey, Greg."

He started and nearly fell off of his chair when it rolled away from the desk. He glanced up at Sara and smiled for a second, a sleep induced grin.

"I've had dreams about this," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Sara shook her head, scowling at him, "You know, Greg, I really could report you to Grissom for this. Sleeping on the job. Sexually harassing me."

At that, Greg did fall out of his chair, scrambling to get back onto his feet.

"Hey, I wasn't sleeping, just restin' my eyes," he said quickly, "Besides, I have test results for you."

"I can run a simple DNA test, Greg," Sara told him, "I just make you do it cause it's more convinient. What've you got?"

Greg smiled sadly, "Glad to see I'm appreciated."

He handed her a printout and Sara read it over quickly, muttering, "Thanks, Greg", as she left the lab.

"Oh, and Greg?" she turned back to him, "If you ever make one of those 'sexual' comments to me again, I will report you to Grissom. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Grissom sat at his desk. He didn't notice her standing there and Sara took the opportunity to watch him work. He was bent over a file that lay open on his desk, his glasses propped up on the end of his nose. She smiled. It was nice to seem him like this, calm and unguarded. It took her back to that morning in his bedroom and she knew that she was blushing.

"Hey."

She said it so softly that Grissom barely heard her. He glanced up, seeing her leaning against his doorframe, her posture completely relaxed. He made a mental note of the shy smile on her face and he smiled back.

"Hi."

For a moment, neither of them moved, both of them smiling and feeling slighlty giddy just staring at each other. Grissom gestured to the chair sitting opposite his desk and Sara's smile widened as she moved further into the office.

"Got our results," she told him, showing him Greg's printout as she sat down, "The vaginal fluid on the passenger's seat is a match to Allison Conners. They had sex in his car."

Grissom nodded, handing her a close up photo of the condom wrapper, "That, my dear, is Frederick Evans' finger print."

"All right, so we know they had sex in his car, he told us that much. But if Allison bled out, where's all the blood?"

Sara and Grissom both sat silently for a moment, trying to find an answer to her question. When she didn't come up with one, Sara shook her head.

"This case is making me crazy," she muttered, "I wish it was over."

He nodded, giving her a thoughtful look.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.

Sara shook her head, "Maybe later, in private. Right now, I just want to finish this case and take a long, well-deserved nap."

Grissom gave her a look as she stood up to leave his office.

"Sara?"

She stopped, turning back to smile at him.

"I'm here if you need to talk," he told her, "Whenever, honey."

She nodded once and turned down the hall.

Catherine found Sara curled up on the couch in the break room yet again. Only this time she knew why the younger woman was so exhausted. Gil had probably worked her over for hours. She choked on her coffee at the thought.

"That girl's sleeping again?" Warrick asked, stalking toward the coffee pot.

Catherine nodded, hiding her smirk behind her coffee cup.

"Someone really out to buy her a cot to keep in here," Warrick suggested, "It would be more comfortable than that couch."

"What couch?"

Grissom's voice caught their attention and Catherine jerked her thumb in Sara's direction. He noted her even breathing and realized that she was sound asleep. He shook his head.

"I've really got to make her cut back on her overtime," he said serious, moving to join Warrick at the coffee pot.

"Sure," Catherine muttered, "That really has something to do with it."

She turned around to catch Grissom glaring at her and smirked.

"You gonna wake her up?" Warrick asked.

Grissom looked at Sara again. She was smiling and looked slightly comfortable. She hadn't gotten much sleep that morning before he'd had to wake her and they weren't doing anything at the moment.

"No," he shrugged, "Let her sleep. I'll wake her when we get a lead."

He continued out the door to his office and Warrick just stared at him. His jaw was slightly slack, he turned his attention to Catherine.

"What's that about?" he asked, indicating there boss as he walked away.

Catherine shrugged, "Maybe he's starting to see Sara for Sara. Or... maybe he knows why she's so damn exhausted."

Warrick looked at her, cocking an eyebrow in confusion, "Care to elaborate?"

"Can't," Catherine said as her pager went off, "That's Brass with my new case. Find me later, we'll talk."

Sara woke with a start. Sweat was running down her spine and she could feel her shirt sticking to her back. She looked around quickly, brushing the hair from her face, and realized that she's fallen asleep in the break room again. Thankfully she was alone. She let out a ragged breath and tears formed in her eyes. Her chest hurt.

Stumbling slightly as she tried to stand, Sara grabbed the back of a chair at the table.

"Shit," she mumbled, bracing against the chair for more support. Her knees hurt and she looked back at the tiny leather couch she'd been scrunched up on. "I've really got to stop sleeping here."

"I'll attempt to help you with that."

She jumped at the sound of Grissom's voice in the door behind her and spun around to fast. Suddenly light headed, Sara reached for the chair again but missed it. She stumbled again and would've hit the floor if it hadn't been for Grissom's arms around her waist, holding her up.

"Hey, hey," he said softly, pulling her up against him, "Are you all right?"

Sara nodded, not sure she trusted her voice at the moment.

"Come on, come sit down," he led her over to the couch she had recently vacated. They sat together and Sara didn't say anything. She leaned into Grissom and closed her eyes, not wanting to lose the feel of his body against her's.

"I had a nightmare," she finally whispered, "About Debbie Marlin again."

Sara felt Grissom tense immediately and she regretted telling him. She tried to pull away, hoping he would just let her go and she could go find a dark corner to hide in, but he wouldn't let her up. Instead, he held her closer.

"Sara," he said softly, willing her to stay with him, "Those nightmares will go away, honey, I promise."

Sara shrugged, "I'm kind of used to them not going away. I always have nightmares, Griss, it's why I don't like to sleep, because I know that trying to sleep will only make me more tired."

They both sat in silence for a few moments and Sara didn't want the moment to end, even though she knew that it had to eventually. They were at work. In the break room. Sitting too close on the couch. It would look slightly out of place if someone walked in and found them that way. Sara turned and pushed at his chest, laughing lightly.

"If someone sees us here, they're gonna get the wrong idea, Griss," she said.

"Are they?"

Sara knew she was blushing, "Well... no, I guess not, but we don't really want them to know that it's the right idea... do we?"

He took a moment to think about that and then moved away from her a little on the couch, "You're right. I don't think now would be the time to bring up our..."

"Relationship?" Sara offered.

He nodded and they each to a moment to survey the other's reactions. Sara was more relaxed and smiling. Grissom was slightly nervous but smiling all the same.

"So," Sara said, standing and moving toward the coffee pot, "Do we have a lead?"

"I think we may," he told her, "I pulled a hair from the victims clothing, follicle still in tact."

"But she was in the pond."

"It was attached to her sock," Grissom told her, grinning slightly, "Inside her shoe."

Sara's jaw dropped a little but she quickly snapped her mouth shut. Grissom shook his head, moving from the couch and heading down the hall, "Head to Trace. Greg should be able to prep you by now."

"Hey Greg."

"Hey there Sleeping Beauty," Greg said, grinning at her.

Sara scowled, "My results, Greg."

"Right, um, skin tag on the hair provided enough DNA to make a match and I'll give you three guesses to who it belonged to," Greg said, waving the printout in her face.

"Greg, I just slept curled up on a couch that is a foot to short for me and I'm still pretty damn tired, give me my damn report," Sara snapped.

Greg handed her the report and turned back to his microscope.

"Thanks, Greg," Sara muttered, turning to go find Grissom.

"Oh, Sara?"

She turned back to him.

"You might want to take a look in the mirror," he told her, pointing to his own hair, "You're sticking up everywhere."

Sara's hand immediately went to her hair and she turned away quickly and practically ran to the locker room.