Secrets of Faith Pt II –

"I never believed you would wait for me." GSR.

Disclaimer – Not mine, not at all, Nada.

Spoilers – Up to Butterflied.

A/N –Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It means more to me than you realize. I never really pictured Grissom as the type to get dead drunk either. But I will do anything in the name of GSR. I think I'm going to be able to have some fun with this… Many, many thanks to Phoenix who took on the arduous task of beta-ing this for me.

and -- just in case I don't have time to update again before Christmas. --

A very, very Merry Christmas to everyone reading… have a great one! (eat plenty of mince pies and brandy butter while you can justify it!)

It was only once Sara had started to drive that she actually got round to considering why Grissom might have come to be sat in a bar, drinking away oblivion that night. It was not, as far as she knew, indicative of his normal behavior. Although what he did away from work she really didn't know. Maybe she had just never been called before, although she genuinely doubted that as a scenario. Grissom was not the closet drunk type.

The thought that he might be finding the day's events as difficult to process as she was, was really relatively comforting. If the body of a woman who just looked like her could affect him like this… She ground her line of thought to an abrupt halt. It probably wasn't anything to do with that she reasoned. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her that this was probably untrue, but this fleeting thought was quickly quashed. He was probably just tired, having a bad day, just like her it seemed.

Sara risked a quick glance over her shoulder at the next set of traffic lights to check on the state of her lone passenger. He still had yet to speak although his eyes were open, and met hers when she turned around. She turned abruptly back to the road swallowing convulsively. For some unknown reason whenever she was around him, despite the fact he was totally inebriated, he seemed to exude something that drew her to him. There was almost a hypnotic quality to it. It was all she could do to stop herself from reaching out to him. She had done it before after all. There was at least one time she had not stopped herself and It had backfired on her, she could think of quite a few more, things rarely seemed to go as planned. It had never really done her any good had it? Much as she would have loved to let her heart rule her mind it would not be the practical solution. Nor would it be particularly prudent. She would simply end up either humiliating herself more than she already had, or get herself fired. Neither of these was a viable option in her opinion.

The silence in the car was beginning to get to her, and roughly jabbing at the radio she drowned out the silence with an unknown song, humming along absentmindedly.

If his relentless stare was anything to go by, he was far more sober than he was letting on. She could all but feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. It's said you can tell when someone is watching you, and in this case Sara would agree with that statement wholeheartedly. She wasn't sure whether to classify the feeling as creepy or strangely comforting. She shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to rid herself of the shivers up her spine, and dragged her stubborn eyes back to the road, instead of her rearview mirror.

It seemed like a lifetime before Sara pulled up outside his townhouse. Grumbling quietly at his state of mind she jumped out of the car and pulled open the rear door forcefully. Leaning over his body slightly she prodded him experimentally with a finger, almost as if touching him might infect her with some horrible ailment. She soon found that this did not work as planned, so placing a tentative hand on his shoulder she shook him gently. When this too appeared to have no effect, Sara decided that it was about time for some serious action. She reached around his body and attempted to hoist him into an upright position. This was one task that was easier said than done and took several moments worth of struggling with his un-cooperative form until he was in a more useful position.

"Ok, this is ridiculous." She declared leaning against the roof of the car.

A faintly slurred voice replied. "Not really." Sara almost jumped a mile. It took several seconds for her to recover enough to reply.

"Yeah, it is. But it would be a lot less ridiculous if you would actually try and help me a little." He turned to look at her blinking silently, before dragging himself out of the car and leaning against a nearby wall. Sara locked the Tahoe and producing his key-ring from her pocket she held them out to him. "I hope you remember which key you need to get into your house, 'cause I sure don't know."

He cocked his head to the side slightly. "Of course I do." He mumbled. "I have a PhD… I should hope I would remember something basic like that." was added as an afterthought.

Sara pursed her lips in a half smile at his self-depreciative tone. "Well, lead on then." She hooked an arm around his back supporting him a little as he walked.

He looked around the apartment, rather disorientated but at least he could support himself without falling over, which had been Sara's main worry when they had left the bar earlier that evening. He had evidently recovered sufficiently since then, for which she was eternally grateful. He waved her in vaguely and wandered over to the sofa dropping onto it heavily. Sara decided the best course of action would be to simply make herself at home, considering he really didn't seem to care much one way or the other. She walked to the kitchen snagging a couple of glasses from the draining board and filling them with water.

She returned to the living room to find Grissom sitting on the sofa staring at the floor intently.

"I wonder, where do you think they got this floor from." Sara gave him an odd look. "It has to have come from somewhere, right? Things don't just appear you know. Molecular Impossibility." Sara bit back a wide grin, who knew Grissom was a philosophical drunk. Thinking about it, it was probably a fairly logical step. He was normally choc full of quotes and philosophical jargon; this was simply the downgraded version. She put the glass down on the coffee table in the centre of the room.

"It probably came from a quarry somewhere. I got you some water."

"Are you sure?"

"About the quarry or the water. I honestly don't think there is any doubt about either." Grissom flopped his head down onto the back of the sofa as if perhaps these two thoughts were too many to fit in his head at the moment. "Are you going to drink that water or not."

"Maybe." Sara sat down on the coffee table opposite him leaning her elbows on her knees and interlacing her fingers. He didn't make any move from his position and after several minutes of this she was beginning to lose patience so she picked up the glass again.

"You know what, if you don't drink some water you will feel like hell in the morning." She paused. "You'll thank me for this later." Or not, she added mentally. Grissom groaned quietly.

"You're still here." He stated blandly. Sara rolled her eyes and shoved the glass into his hands. He lifted it up in front of his face tapping it with his finger and watching the ripples appear on the surface.

"Yup, and I'm not going anywhere for a while. Now, drink it." Grissom lowered the glass and looked blankly at Sara. He thought for a moment with his mouth slightly open before deeming it sensible to say something.

"I think… this must be like what it feels like to be married."

Sara's jaw dropped. That was definitely an uncharacteristic statement. She was stranded somewhere between stunned by the remark and mildly irritated by the fact he had just implied that she nagged. Sara closed her mouth quickly and frowned, she was still trying to think of an intelligent answer to the previous comment when he spoke again.

"Do you want to get married?"

A/N - Next Part should be up in the next couple of days after a few tweaks.