A/N: Thanks to inlya, this idea is partly hers. I hope you all like this, it's a short piece... Little OOC probably, let me know in that case.
Thanks to Hazelmom for the feedback and a huge thanks to the wonderful beta of this piece: csishewolf (THANKS!)
And thanks to everybody else: Lynnfox, Cybrokat, and everybody else who is reading my fics.
Please leave a review if you can find the time.

The flowers.

When Warrick entered the break room during a quiet shift he saw a vase of white roses in the middle of the table. At first, he didn't see a card with it, so he looked closer... but there was no card that he could see. He had no idea where they came from, or who they were for. Why would someone leave flowers here without a note? How do we know who they are for? Maybe they're for me. At that thought he smiled to himself. Nah...

Warrick removed a pile of old papers from the table and put them on one of the chairs. He placed his lunch in front of him on the table and started to eat. Every now and then, he looked up at the flowers and wondered who had placed them there. It was a big bouquet of flowers; white roses. Whoever sent them had a good taste. Warrick hated red roses, they were cliché. If he ever sent flowers to a woman, they wouldn't be red roses.

Warrick pondered that for a moment. Sending flowers sounded very nice, but would she appreciate it? He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head with a sigh. He didn't know if she even knew how he felt about her. Catherine had a lot of men who liked her. I will never know if she feels the same way about me, but I can do something to pass the time. These flowers are here... they aren't for anyone specific… eh, why not?

Warrick slowly took one of the flowers and started to remove the flower petals one by one. It was a game he remembered from his youth. The girls from his class always played it, pretending they were in love. He knew that what he was doing was pretty immature, but he took his task very seriously. "She loves me... she loves me not... she loves me... she loves me not..."

Just when he was almost finished, Catherine walked in. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow and sat down in front of him. His tongue was darting out of his mouth and he was very intent on his task. Somehow, she found this really adorable; how he could be so serious and childlike at the same time?

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked.

Shit... Warrick almost jumped a few feet in the air and looked at her with big eyes. Speak of the devil... Not that she's a devil, but why does she have to barge in just at the moment I'm thinking about her? His mouth opened slightly and he tried to hide the flower behind his back, but realized she had already noticed it. He placed the flower in front of him on the table and crossed his arms.

"Somebody brought flowers here, but there's no name, no sentiment. And... I was bored."

Catherine grinned; he was playing that old school game. I'm sure this isn't about me, 'cause I think he knows how I feel about him. She took one of the flowers herself and started the same game. Warrick took his flower again and continued, meanwhile he heard Catherine say: "He loves me... he loves me not... he loves me... he loves me not..."

Sara was walking past the break room when she saw Warrick and Catherine. Both pulling petals from beautiful white roses. Okay, where am I? She felt like she was at the playground again, watching children playing a childhood game. She remembered that the girls from her class always tried to convince her to play it too, but she felt she was too old for that, even as a child. But now that she saw Warrick and Catherine, she felt like participating as well.

"Hey guys, what are you doing?"

Catherine felt a blush rising on her cheeks, and Warrick just pretended that he hadn't heard her. He continued pulling the white petals out of his rose. Sara walked in and sat down at the end of the table.

"Those are beautiful roses", she commented, looking at the bouquet. Who are they for, and who bought them? She took a paper from the chair next to her and started reading.

Warrick pulled out the last petal and said out loud: "She loves me."

Catherine's blush became even bigger as she stared down at her flower. She still had a few petals to go, but she could see what answer she was going to get. "He loves me... he loves me not... he loves me." She turned to Warrick and smiled.

Sara was just sitting there, watching their new relationship bloom. She closed the paper again and smiled. They finally did it. Now she and the rest of her colleagues wouldn't be bothered with their lovelorn glances anymore. Every time they were in the same room you could feel the heat, and they all saw the glances and innocent touches. Finally they would be liberated from all that.

She knew it was just a stupid game, but a small part of her wanted to try. Maybe it was helpful, although she knew deep in her mind that nothing big was going to happen. So she took a flower and started to remove the petals. "He loves me... he loves me not... he loves me... he loves me not..."

Catherine looked at Sara with a small smile; she had never expected that Sara would sink to this level. Maybe she will get lucky... She noticed how carefully Sara was pulling on the petals, as if they were the most special thing in her life.

Catherine stood up from her chair to get some coffee, and asked Sara if she wanted some too. Sara was so involved in petal-plucking that she didn't even hear her.

"Hey guys!" Greg greeted them, barging into the break room. When he saw Sara pulling out the rose petals he threw a questioning look at Warrick, who just shrugged.

Greg opened the refrigerator and took out his lunch. He looked around and noticed the only available chair was the one with the pile of old papers. He placed his lunch on the table and turned around to remove the pile from his chair. When he lifted the papers, something fell to the floor. Catherine saw it, and pointed it out to him.

Greg kneeled down and picked up an envelope. He held it up and said: "What's this? Oh, the flowers. I guess this belongs with those."

Warrick took the envelope from Greg's hand. He flipped it over. On top was a name... 'Sara'. The handwriting was familiar, but couldn't quite place it. He turned it around and noticed the envelope was sealed.

"Sara? I guess those roses are for you..."

She looked up with a confused look, who would possibly send her flowers? Deep in her heart she knew who had sent them, but she wasn't ready to admit it. He had sent her a plant once, but flowers?

Catherine smile became bigger as she processed the new information. Good job, Gil. He had finally lifted his head from the microscope and was now ready to take a chance. She hadn't advised him about this, so she was surprised that he had thought about this all by himself.

"Warrick, give me the note, please." Sara was dying to know who had sent her flowers, but she needed a more private place to read it.

Warrick held out the note and Sara stood up and took it gently from his hand. She examined the handwriting on the top. Her name was written down in the middle and she recognized the neat handwriting immediately. Her heart started to beat faster as she left the break room, leaving the remaining trio to stare after her.

She walked quickly through the hallways of the lab, looking for a quiet place to sit down and read the card. When she passed the locker room, she looked inside and was relieved to find it empty. She sat down on the bench in the middle of the room and opened the envelope. She unfolded the paper within and started reading.

Sara,

I know that flowers are not your style, but I hope you like them anyway. I didn't buy you red ones, because I wanted something more unique, like you.

I know this is a little out of the blue, it is for me too. But when I looked through some old photos yesterday, I realized that on this day, 15 years ago, we met.

I remember standing in that lecture hall, watching all students walk in. I noticed the bored looks on their faces, but one of them... One of them was interested.
I started talking like I was only talking to her, and only she was listening. After the first lecture we talked, and we went to some coffee shop not far away.

From that moment I knew she would be special to me, but then I had to leave, I had to go back to Vegas. But deep in my heart I knew that I would see her again...

But what I didn't predict was that I would call her when one of our CSI's was killed. She came, and I know she expected a lot from me. But I was afraid. I thought that back in Berkeley things were different. I hoped that it was a teacher's crush and that I could properly work with her. But I couldn't, I was afraid of letting her close and I've hurt her with that.

I know what to do now, and I hope I'm not too late. I hope she'll forgive me and that we can start over.

Grissom

When she had finished reading, tears were running down her cheeks. She read the note again and again, afraid to miss something. The message was clear to her, he was sorry and he wanted to try.

With the note and the white rose she'd been plucking still in her hand, she began walking to his office. There was only one petal left of the rose and as she looked at it, she remembered that she had ended with 'he loves me not', so this petal was standing for the opposite. She smiled to herself and knocked on the door of his office.

He was sitting behind his desk, reading. He was very absorbed in his work, and she was wondering if he had heard her come in. She sat down in front of him and placed the letter with the rose on his desk.

He looked up at her and noticed the tear stains on her face. He stood up from his chair and walked over to her. He knelt down in front of her and looked deep into her eyes. What he saw there surprised him and he wiped her fresh tears away. Before thinking any longer, he pulled her in his arms and sighed.

She twined her arms around him and sucked in a deep breath. Here she was, in his arms. He finally had been able to admit his feelings, and she knew he would never be too late.

"I love you", she murmured.

"I've always loved you," he replied.

The End

Do I have to write a sequel to this? You tell me... Please leave a review!