Disclaimer: EVERYTHING IS MINE! Mwahahaha! Okay – that was the Tortuga Vanilla Rum and ginger ale speaking – CSI and the lines aren't mine.

Rating, Beta Props, etc. – See Chapter 1. I wuv Cybrokat and Jennie to death!

A/N: Thank you to all you wonderful reviewers and those who recommend me on YTDAW. And angst is so much fun. I really am having fun writing this. (Unlike icky Equilibrium.)

First and last lines of the YTDAW Improv challenge were provided, and are italicized. Microsoft Word says, uh, well, more than 2000 words. Way more.

A loud cracking noise caught everyone's attention. Nick looked up at the ceiling, as a small bit of dust floated down from between two of the wooden beams. "Let's get the hell outta here," he murmured urgently to Warrick and Catherine. The trio stepped back slowly, cautiously but quickly, each making their way to the front door of the abandoned warehouse at the same time. Another loud groan echoed overhead, and the three of them couldn't make it out of there fast enough.

Five minutes later, the building crumbled onto itself, burying their DB and all of the correlating evidence surrounding his obvious murder. The CSIs, Brass, and some other uniforms all retreated as the dust and debris blew out from the rubble when the roof caved in.

"This is going to be a long night," Catherine spat, brushing bits of warehouse off her tank top.

Warrick and Nick glanced at one another, and Nick flipped open his cell phone. They needed a little help.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom lifted his head slowly. Kissing Sara was exactly as he'd expected it would be, and he smirked a little at her cute, surprised expression when he'd kissed her. Plus, he'd needed air. And if he didn't stop kissing her now, they'd be doing a lot more right there in the pavilion. Grissom didn't think that would be very comfortable, and it certainly wasn't legal.

The rain continued to beat steadily on the overhang above them. The cool wind off the bay had ceased, and the air was heavy and warm. Sara was staring at him with a curious expression, but it was morphing into a frown of disdain. He began to grow concerned.

She sighed harshly, her shoulders jerking with the effort. "Dammit."

He looked at her, the question obvious in his eyes.

She met his with her own, and suddenly he found himself with a very different Sara. A non-angry, non-defensive, but very serious Sara. "Gil," she said, making him raise an eyebrow in surprise, "I don't know."

"What don't you know?"

"This. I don't know."

"What's the question you can't seem to answer?" he asked hesitantly.

She replied in return with, "What's the reason you've waited this long?"

He paused, scanning his mind for why he hadn't done this sooner. He was honest in his reply. "Cowardice."

"And that's why I don't know. You've known forever how I felt, and you did nothing. Our jobs are a mess because of this… this thing between us. I don't know if I can handle it getting any worse than it was before I left."

"What makes you think it'll get worse?"

"What makes you think it'll get better?" she countered.

"I went too far… with what I said. I can barely speak with Catherine, and she's the only one in both buildings who will speak with me at all. I, I need to fix this."

Sara sighed a little. "So now it's important. Now it involves your own discomfort as well as my own. That's why you're here."

Grissom shifted a little before placing his hand lightly on hers as it rested on her lap. "Not true. I have never been comfortable with… with this."

She scoffed, "Clearly."

"I can't expect you to understand, but I did what I thought was best for both of us at the time."

Her tone was harsh as she jerked her hand away from him. "See? You made the decision, for both of us. Don't you see how warped that is? I swear - it's all about control with you, isn't it?"

"I can't control you, Sara," he said with a hint of humor.

"Yet you wish you could."

"Not exactly. Reverse your mindset."

"Huh?"

"Reverse it."

"'Reverse it.' Okay, if you don't want to control me, then what? I want to control you?"

"Yes. Well, partially."

"I beg your pardon?" she barked at him. "When have I ever tried to control you?"

Grissom started on a small tirade, an extreme for him. He lifted his hand and counted off the items on his fingers as he spoke. "You demand my attention at work, where I cannot give it without putting both of our careers in jeopardy, particularly yours. You threaten to quit if I don't acknowledge what's between us, automatically assuming that I should treat you differently because of how I feel. You date another man, and potentially jeopardize a case because of your relationship with him. Later you insinuate that I'm the one that forced you into his arms. When you tire of him, you focus your attention back on me, at a time when I was truly unable to handle any kind of relationship. You then point out that you are quite confident about this decision, and threaten me to 'figure it out' before it is 'too late'."

His shoulders drooped in defeat as he continued. "Christ Sara, it's like you want me to be something that I'm not."

Sara opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it and considered what he'd said. It took a while. She raised a finger and waved it near his nose, and she was oh-so adorable to him as she did it. "Don't you dare play this out like it is my fault," she said sharply.

"I never said it was."

"Sure sounds like it," she grumbled.

He reached out and took her shoulders in his hands, and squared them so that they faced each other directly. "Sara, I was wrong. I've been denying this for a very long time, and denial is not the solution. I regret this, I regret it all." He turned away for a moment, a tremor of apprehension and past rejections shaking through his mind. He gave a soft sigh before meeting her gaze. "We should have discussed this a long time ago. Now everything is a mess, and I want very much to fix it. Can you forgive me?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "Damn you, Grissom. I don't know."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nick and Warrick, with the help of Greg and a few extra interns from the police station, had cleared away enough of the debris to get to their DB while still preserving some of the evidence surrounding him. Nothing else had been accomplished, and Catherine groaned as she considered the additional paperwork she'd have to fill out for this case. There were also the cases that had come in over the evening that hadn't been worked due to their time being spent out there. Paperwork surrounded her. UGH!

She stood from behind Grissom's desk and left his office. She needed a break. Catherine wandered through the hallways, checking first the kitchen and then the main assignment room. She checked the locker room last, and found all three of the boys inside, already changed into their spare sets of clothing.

"Hey guys," she said from the doorway, "I think we all deserve a little reward for our work tonight. How about breakfast at the buffet in the Tangiers? My treat?"

"Sure, sounds good," Nick said as Warrick just smiled softly at her in approval. Greg seemed to agree as well, although he wasn't nearly as jubilant as usual. The loss of Sara, if only for a few more days, must be bothering the junior CSI.

Once they'd finally settled themselves in the large booth, the guys' plates overflowing with every breakfast item imaginable, the inevitable conversation about Grissom and Sara began. Catherine was pleased, because discussing their two missing teammates was one of the reasons why she'd brought them all here.

"So," Greg mumbled through his pancake-filled mouth, "where is Grissom anyways?"

Nick swallowed before answering, "Could be off riding rollercoasters to blank his mind out. Or he could be racing those roaches of his. De-stress and all."

Catherine looked at Warrick cautiously before saying, "I think he's with Sara."

Warrick's eyes burned dark at the mention of this. "He'd better not be."

Catherine and Warrick had talked before Grissom's unexpected departure this week. Warrick had told Catherine about both requests for Grissom's signature on the forms. He told her how he'd let Grissom assume that he and Sara were an item out of spite. He also told her about Sara's insecurities about singing, her reactions to compliments, and how he suspected there were many demons that haunted her past.

Catherine had told Warrick about the plant, and about Grissom's reaction to the victim that resembled Sara. Catherine told him what she knew about Grissom's past, and the importance he placed on his career. Catherine also told him about Grissom's mother, and the hereditary deafness that also plagued Grissom. She told him about the surgery, and how he had handled it bravely despite his fear. She suspected that Grissom was also haunted by demons from his past.

What became clear to both of them was that they truly cared for their friends – Warrick for Sara and Catherine for Grissom. What wasn't clear was how they felt about each other, and they had both pretty much freaked out and bailed before their conversation headed into that territory.

Catherine had known Warrick would not be pleased when he heard her suspicions; his concern for Sara had deepened since they'd started performing together. Nick was already at that point, and Greg would most likely move mountains for her. In a way, it made Catherine jealous, yet she suspected that if something were to happen to her personally, they all would move mountains to help her as well. She considered herself independent in a way that Sara was not, and the lack of devotion on the guys' part was the price she paid for her self-reliance.

"If he's gone to find her, it's a big thing for him. It'll mean he's serious about her, about them as a couple." She spoke directly to Warrick, but the other two men were listening intently as well.

"I'm against it," Warrick spat. "She deserves better."

"She does," Nick added bitterly. "He's nuts."

"Wait," Catherine said defensively, "before this turns into a 'Bash Grissom' session due to your undying devotion for Sara, you should realize that she's most likely in love with him."

"She is," Greg chimed in. "I asked her point blank about it, and she got all defensive and denied it, but I knew." He smiled a little, slightly surprising everyone else at the table. "I think it's romantic."

"So you'd be okay if they were together?" Warrick asked, clearly dumbfounded. He wasn't alone in his confusion. All eyes focused on Greg.

"Sure," he replied cheerily, "Why not? Oh… you all think I'm still lusting after Sara? Wow, that's like so last year. I mean, she's my friend, and she's all kinds of hot, and if she asked me, I'd date her in a heartbeat. But I'm not… in mourning or something." Greg looked a bit surprised at their slack-jawed response. "What? We flirt! It's fun! It isn't like this job is a barrel of laughs or anything."

Catherine spoke first. "Well forgive us; we just assumed that your… calmer attitude was due to her."

Greg returned to his melancholy state of late. "No, it isn't that. It's this… being a CSI. I had no idea how utterly depressing it was." He lifted his head to stare at each of them individually. "I don't know how you all deal with it."

Nick, Catherine and Warrick all exchanged glances. Their job was what it was, a job. They'd distanced themselves from the human aspect, the pain of seeing yet another murder or rape or domestic assault. Greg was a part of their world before he became a CSI, so they'd never realized the difference in perception he might have. The three shared a moment remembering their first cases, their first crying jaunts over the innocent people that were beyond help.

"Hey," Warrick said, "it'll get better. You, well you get used to it."

"I dunno," Greg replied, "I don't think I can get used to this."

"Think of all the good you do," Nick said encouragingly. "You bring bad people to justice."

"I suppose."

"Hey," Catherine said, "enough of this depressing talk. Greg, you're really very good and it'll get easier – I promise. If you want to talk about it later, let me know, and I'll tell you a few of my horror stories, and why I still do this for a living. Now," she stated firmly, planting both hands firmly on the table, "if they are together when they finally come back, what are we going to do about it?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bitterness brewed in Sara's chest as she and Grissom walked in silence across the damp asphalt of the main road. They still had another quarter mile before they would be back at the parking lot of the Sailor's Dock. The air was heavy with the scent of the past storm, and Sara's mind was permanently locked into overdrive.

Okay, so yeah, maybe she was a little pushy and demanding about what she wanted sometimes. But he was still at fault here. He was the one that freaked out when she started singing with Warrick. He was the one that didn't communicate. It wasn't just her, it was him too. And what was she supposed to do, sit around being miserable and wait for him? Dating Hank wasn't her brightest maneuver, but it beat sitting at home scanning mail-order catalogs. Although Hank didn't kiss anything like Grissom did. God, it was like… it was just… Damn Him!

A small sigh escaped her, and she knew Grissom had tensed up at the sound. The fact that she knew without even looking at him aggravated her even more, and she scowled at the realization.

There were no right answers. She saw no easy solutions to this. God, she didn't even know if she could handle being in a relationship with this man. He was intense, to say the least. Yet, she loved him. She loved him more than ever, and her heart was pounding at the thought that he just might love her back.

'Love isn't everything.' her logical side intoned.

"Oh shut up," she muttered to herself.

"Which side are you arguing with, rational or emotional?" Grissom asked her quietly.

Sara shot him a dark look as they continued towards the restaurant. "Both," she replied.

He waited a moment before politely saying, "When you're done with them, would you like to grab some breakfast with me back at the Sterling Inn?"

Sara froze and Grissom strode forward about three paces before stopping himself. He had that cute little smug grin on his face and the urge to smack it right off was overwhelming.

"You're staying in my Inn."

"It was convenient."

"Figures."

She started walking again, and she felt the heat of his eyes on her body.

"Well?" he asked.

"I don't suppose you'd take 'no' for an answer."

He comically pretended to think about that for a few seconds before he unleashed that heated blue gaze onto her again; the one that turned her insides to pudding. "No, I don't think so."

Smug bastard.

They'd reached the parking lot and Sara walked towards her car, noting the only other vehicle around was a black Cadillac Escalade.

"Is that yours?"

"Yup, it's a rental. Would you like to drive it back? I can take your car…" He pulled the key out of his pocket and dangled it in the air.

Damn him again, for renting an awesome car and then offering to let her drive it. Damn herself for being such a sucker for expensive vehicles. Sara grinned as they walked to the SUV.

... continued next chapter ->

A/N: Word limit? What word limit?