Title: Waking Up With You

Pairing: G/S

Spoilers: Heavy spoilers for Gum Drops, if you don't want to be spoiled, don't read this.

Disclaimer: I own nothing… However, if I did, this whole Gum Drops episode would have to move to late night HBO…

Summary: How we all wish the motel room scenario from episode 6x5 would really play out…

Rating: PG-13, cause I don't plan on being graphic

Waking Up With You

Sara's body was warm and light, her skin smooth under the tips of his fingers. When he'd opened his eyes to the unfamiliar sight of soft brown hair fanned out across his chest, Grissom had had to take a deep breath and close his eyes before he could actually believe the fact that he'd shared a bed with Sara Sidle.

She was still sleeping. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even and slow, and he watched his hand rise and fall where it lay on her back. Why had it taken so long to get here? He'd imagined waking up this way many times since he'd met Sara so long ago, so why had it taken him ten years? He wanted her that was obvious. He wanted her and he wouldn't have brought her to Vegas if that hadn't been true.

Grissom watched her, scanning her body where the sheet had fallen down to her waist, where the sun filtering through the curtains speckled her skin. She was beautiful. More beautiful now than he'd ever seen her before. Her pink tank-top didn't quite reach the top of the boyshorts she wore and he studied the tattoo on her lower back. It was a four leaf clover, outlined in a thick black line and shaded in with a faded green. He knew that he family was at least part Irish, her features gave that much away, but he had a feeling that her heritage had nothing to do with the tattoo. Pushing her top up just a tiny bit more, he traced the outline of the clover with his finger wondering what it meant to her.

"Tickles," Sara muttered suddenly, snuggling deeper into his chest.

Grissom stopped his movement around the tattoo and slid his hand up her back to pull her closer to him.

"Morning."

Sara didn't say anything in return as she pressed her face against his skin. He moved his hand further up and buried it in her hair, running his fingers through it, fulfilling another of his long running fantasies.

"Sara?"

She sighed then, pushing herself up a little off of his chest, looking him in the eye for the moment.

"I'm scared."

He looked at her blankly, taking in her words and her appearance at the same time. Her hair was no longer straight, but in tousled curls, and she had sleep in her eyes.

"Of what?" he asked after a moment.

"You leaving," she explained, "I'm terrified that you're going to regret this and pretend that nothing happened. I'm worried that I just made a huge mistake by letting you back in and now you're just going to break my heart all over again."

"I'm not leaving," he said shortly, "I don't think that I could if I wanted to."

Sara just stared.

"Do you?" she asked.

"Do I what?"

"Want to leave. If I gave you the chance, told you this didn't mean anything to me, and gave you a way out, no harm done… would you go?"

He didn't speak and they both lay there, watching each other, waiting for the tension to break.

"I might," Grissom finally replied, "I might go if you gave me the chance."

Sara's eyes flooded with tears as she pushed herself away from him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She wanted to scream at him, to call him an asshole, to kick him out, but she didn't. She sat with her head in her hands and her shoulders shook as she cried.

For a long moment, Grissom didn't move. He lay on the bed in Sara's motel room and watched her cry. A battle was going on in his head. He could go. He could get up and walk out and do exactly what Sara was afraid of and pretend that coming to her meant nothing to him.

Or he could do the right thing.

He could do the right thing and tell her that he wasn't leaving. He could grow some balls, be a man, and tell her how he felt. His heart was pounding. There was so much that he should be telling her. He needed her, he couldn't deny that, he'd been doing it for far too long. Warrick, it seemed, had the right idea. Life was too damn short. Nick's kidnapping had proved that. They'd been lucky that they had gotten him back alive. He couldn't leave.

"Don't give me a chance, Sara."

The words came out of his mouth so softly that he wasn't sure if she'd actually heard him. She seemed to have stopped crying and he waited for her to speak, for her to say anything to him at all. Sara didn't turn to look at him, but she spoke.

"If you leave now, and pretend this didn't happen," she said quietly, "I'll leave for good. I'll go back to San Francisco, or to Boston, but I will walk away for good. I can't do this anymore, Grissom, I can't keep letting you in only to have you kick me out. It's not fair."

Neither of them spoke for a moment and Grissom wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He couldn't let her leave, he wouldn't. He had messed up too many times where Sara was concerned and all he wanted now was to let himself love her.

He moved without thinking, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her against his chest, kissing her hairline.

"I'm not leaving, honey, because I can't let myself lose you."

And she cried then and he knew that she was happy, and he was happy too, for the first time is so damn long.