A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait between chapters, but the Harry Potter book just came out, and I'm trying to relearn all of the Spanish that I should have learned in school last year before I fail next year. You know the deal. I'll have the next ones up faster. Keep reviewing. Oh, and I need a new editor. E-mail me if you want the job.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own CSI or anything to do with it. And Daniel Bedingfield's lyrics to his hit "Gotta Get Through This" so not belong to me anymore than William Petersen does.

Chapter Seven: Give Me Chills

"What the hell was that," questioned Nick. Greg moved to join Nick and Warrick at the metal doorway looking flustered from the heated embrace. Warrick appeared lost in thought. "Amazing. You don't think…"

"No," stated Greg. "There's no way."

The guys looked at each other pondering the single question. Did Grissom kiss Sara? The question racked their minds and the thought seemed impossible. Someone would have known if that had happened, but then again, we were talking about the closed-off-to-the-world Gil Grissom. And if he didn't want anyone to find out, then Sara wouldn't even think about betraying that trust.

"It would explain all of this. The arguments, the cold shoulders, the tension. I guess we'll just have to get them to say it," said Warrick, and with that they went their separate ways.

Sara raced down the hallways gathering her stuff as she ran. Her heart was beating out of her chest, but she couldn't stop running. Grissom is just behind me…or he should be

Suddenly Catherine intercepted her in the hallway, and brought Sara to a halt.

"Whoa there! In a hurry," questioned Catherine. She couldn't wipe the smile from her face as Sara tried to catch her breath.

"Grissom saw. He's pissed," rasped Sara. Her words escaped her lips in huffs.

"Good. Another step down," replied Catherine, and she helped Sara back upright. "You better get outside to the Tahoe. Oh, and Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"Forget your jacket. It's going to be a cold night."

Sara merely nodded and smiled at Catherine's instructions, and continued her steady pace towards the Tahoe.

Grissom clawed at the air as he sped through the tiled hallways. Sara has to be close. I can't believe I just stood there. How does she keep doing this to me? With his metal kit in hand, he continued to think as he moved swiftly down the darkened corridors.

The red head came out of an unlit office, and brought Grissom to a stop. Her hand stretched out to prevent him from moving any further, and he attempted to catch his breath.

"Sara just went out to the Tahoe," said Catherine, and she motioned towards a jacket across the hall. "She forgot her jacket."

Grissom started for it, but Catherine blocked him. "No. Just bring yours. It's rather chilly tonight."

He nodded as if absorbing the meaning behind her subtlety.

"She loves laughing and playing so do I, but that's another subject. Grissom, just play it cool, and flirt with her."

Grissom nodded due to his inability to speak from lack of breath, and started down the hall.

"Oh, and Gil?"

She brought him once again to a screeching halt, and he turned to face her.

"Don't screw this up."

Catherine turned and walked away before he could respond.

Sara reached the car first and shivered in the wind. Catherine had better be right about this. It's freezing out here. She walked around to the passenger side of the car, and opened the door to take a seat. Turning to scan the interior of the vehicle, she noticed her grey Berkeley sweater balled in the back seat. It couldn't hurt to wear it. Sara brought he sweater over her head, and put it on. He can still see my legs, so all is well. With the thought of a job well done, she allowed the cotton to warm her arms.

"Ready," questioned a breathless Grissom as he took his seat in the Tahoe.

"What have you been doing," questioned Sara as she laughed at the wheezing Grissom.

He tried his best to think of a response that would keep the feeling light and friendly. "Playing tag with your buddy Greg," stated Grissom, and he started the car.

The car ride was silent, and Sara couldn't tell if that was a good thing, but decided that she would have to work with it. She reached for the radio, and sought out the perfect song. Jackpot! Daniel Bedingfield. Perfect. Sara knew that the lyrics were perfect for them, and started to sing the words underneath her breath.

Give me just a second and I'll be all right

Surely one more moment couldn't break my heart

Give me 'til tomorrow then I'll be okay

Just another day and then I'll hold you tight

Sara could feel Grissom taking quick glances at her, and loved it. Is he listening to the words? Does he understand what I'm trying to say? She sang a little louder as another verse began.

When your love is pouring like the rain

I close my eyes and it's gone again

When will I get the chance to say I love you?

She looked at him as she mouthed the words, but knew that he wouldn't pick up on it.

I pretend that you're already mine

Then my heart keeps breaking every time

I look into your eyes

Sara turned to look into Grissom's blue eyes, and found him staring back into her brown ones. Maybe he does understand. Grissom broke the connection as the chorus began again, and Sara wasn't sure if she had just imagined it. Maybe.

"I love that song. Greg and I went his concert on the strip a couple of years back."

Grissom couldn't bear the thought of Sara spending more than office time with his soon-to-be demoted CSI. Wonder how long they've been…together. Couldn't have been in the past couple of weeks. Not since we…

"Are you listening to me," inquired Sara. Her testy mood broke his chain of thought, and he was forced to come back down to earth. He could feel her mocha eyes piercing his skin, and couldn't bear to look her in the eyes. "You listened a whole lot better when had me against this seat."

"That was a mistake," stated Grissom. He blushed at the memory of once having Sara against him, and wished he knew what to say, how to have her once more. Then I'd never let go.

"Are you blushing, Grissom," questioned Sara, a smile behind her words.

He decided to ignore the comment, and tried to get around it by any means, then he spotted the crime scene tucked away in the desert sands. Grissom stopped and unloaded the Tahoe, scanning the scene in search of Jim Brass. He'll bail me out. Come on, Jim. Get me away from her.

"So just the two of you tonight. Isn't that cute," laughed Jim while walking to greet the two CSIs. He turned to Grissom and then Sara. Neither one looked amused by his joke, so he proceeded to explain the crime scene. "We've got a rape homicide. The victim's name is unknown. There was no identification, but we're looking into a tattoo on her wrist. 'Tip.' About 5 foot 10 inches, 120 pounds. Evans is checking for a missing persons report."

"Who found her," asked Grissom. His icy blue eyes surveyed the crime scene in search of footprints and other obvious clues.

"David Canaan. Driving down the highway, and saw a girl stumbling in the desert. Thought he should see if something was wrong, but she collapsed before he could reach her."

"Right time. Right place," stated Sara, and she walked away to process the scene, camera in hand. Brass turned to face Grissom who was watching Sara walk away.

"She looks amazing tonight, and still not a lick of makeup. How does she do it," sighed Brass. He knew that he was pushing Grissom's buttons, but it wasn't for the hell of it. Catherine had given detailed instructions.

"I know, Jim. I know," whispered Grissom.

"From that tone of yours, I'm guessing that you have heard about Mr. Sanders," laughed Brass. "Lucky bastard. I always thought I would see you with Sara. You guys have always seemed right for each other. Completing each other's sentences and such."

Grissom stared at Jim Brass with a solemn frown, but Brass just gave him a smirk. "You haven't lost her yet. Steal her back."

"I wish I could be as confident about it as all of you," sighed Grissom, and he walked towards the body to join Sara.

Damn desert is always so freaking cold at night. Sara's body shivered from the icy winds, and suddenly wished she had something warmer than a flimsy sweater. Maybe he'll lend me his. She turned to face Grissom, and stared into his blue eyes. This time the shiver was caused by his heated stare and not the cold wind. He put down his kit never releasing their temporary connection. Slowly, he moved towards her not even blinking. He's so gorgeous. Just looking into those blue eyes is...satisfying.

Before she knew it, he was nearly on top of her, and she was almost burned by the heat he emitted. Grissom leaned forward to whisper in her ear as her eyes closed.

"Hey Sara! What have you found," yelled Grissom. His voice was distant, and Sara shuddered as she awoke from her daydream.

"Umm...seems that there are three sets of footprints. That makes a possible two suspects," replied Sara. That was close. I wonder if he noticed.

"Hey Griss! Can I borrow your jacket?"

"Sure," he replied, and removed his jacket. "I guess you'll think twice before wearing short shorts in this weather."

Sara blushed. "These aren't short shorts. Their normal shorts," said Sara and she took the jacket from Grissom.

"My short shorts should be illegal, and why are you looking at my shorts anyway?"

"Uh..." Grissom was caught. "I'm supposed to report any violations of our dress code, so I keep a look-out."

"Really? I didn't know we had a dress code."

"Well, there should be with the stuff that you're wearing."

The two CSIs continued their playful banter while processing the scene. Both seemed thrilled with how things were back to normal.

"Jim called from the crime scene with Grissom and Sara," reported Catherine to the boys behind her. "He said everything went accordingly, and they're acting very friendly."

"Good. Now the tension is gone," said Warrick. "I was getting tired of having to tiptoe around them."

"What? Afraid you'd end up in the line of fire," laughed Nick as he turned into the parking lot of the convenience store.

TBC

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