3. In Which Mr. Sanders is Romantic

Greg identified the blearing, obnoxious noise of the alarm clock on the side of the bed. He reached over Sara, and slapped the snooze button. Even through the offensive noise and the sunset outside, Greg turned his attentions to the sleeping woman next to him, and pressed slow, sensual kisses to her neck and down her shoulders.

"Mmmpht." Sara moaned. "Greg, I don't want to get up yet."

"Sorry, love." He grinned. "We have time enough for a shower before shift." He started pressing childish kisses to her skin, and she groaned.

"Gerroff me, Sanders." He dropped one last kiss on her shoulder and rolled over to his side of the bed, making his way to the door. When he turned back, Greg witnessed Sara climbing out of the covers and felt around on his side of the bed. "Wait, where did you go?" She squinted, and reached for her glasses beside the alarm clock. "Greg, come back to bed."

"Better get a move on Sar, today is going to be a beautiful, beautiful day." He tossed his tee shirt off his frame and dropped it in the hallway as he shut the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

Sara already had a bagel toasted and lathered in cream cheese, and had a steaming hot cup of coffee ready for him when he entered the tiny kitchen, now dressed in jeans and a dark long sleeve shirt. She handed him the mug and slid the bagel towards him.

"Thanks."

"You didn't eat anything last night, I felt bad." She sat across from him, her own mug raised to her lips. Greg began to sweat. He could do it now. Just ask her. All they were doing was drinking coffee. He quickly took a bite of the bagel. "What?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Nothing, I was just thinking. We never sit like this. It's kind of nice. You know, just to sit." Greg glanced nervously at Sara, but she seemed not to notice how uncomfortable he had made himself, obsessing about the ring in the other room, and the question that wouldn't leave his head.

"You sure you're ok?" Sara drained the rest of her coffee and set the mug in the sink, turning to rest her hips against the countertop. "You seem quiet." He took one last sip of the orgasmic blue Hawaiian.

"Just tired." She nodded, not really believing him, and kissed the top of his head as she made her way to the bedroom to get dressed for work. Greg sighed heavily. This was going to be a long shift. He better work on his poker face fast or she was going to ruin her own surprise.

The drive to work was relatively quiet, Greg left the radio on the station that she had it on the previous day, he grumbled half heartedly about having to be in the lab for the next three weeks, she grumbled about having to be in the field without him in return.

They were still a few minutes out from the lab when Sara reached over into his lap and entwined her fingers in his. He squeezed them and raised them to his lips as they stopped at a red light. He could do it. Just ask her. Ask her now. She won't say no, Greg, she loves you. Just as he decided to reach into his pocket to retrieve the box, the light turned green. He released her hand to pull out and take the left, and Sara's fingers settled on his upper thigh.

"What's bothering you, Greg?" He flashed her a wide grin, and shook his head.

"Just the prospects of spending the whole of my shift at that wretched lab with Bobby instead of out and about with you." The smile that he received settled his nerves a bit, and he bent over the console to capture her lips with his own just as he tossed the Denali into park outside the lab. "Sara?" Greg's voice sounded suddenly like a little boy's. She turned back to him from the door, hand still on the handle.

"Yes."

"Do you love me?" Sara let go of the handle, and sat back in the seat. She cast her gaze down, and took several breaths. "Sara?" Greg panicked. "I knew it, this is all so stupid. I mean I actually thought that we had something that was lasting, you know, but if you don't want to take this seriously, then its ok with me, I mean, whatever you want, I love you, and I will love you forever, and if you don't feel the same, then I guess my wasted heart will love you till the day I die, but it's ok, really, I mean, we haven't been together all that long, really. I just thought-"

"Greg." He looked at her, his heart literally on his sleeve, love and defeat written all over his face.

"I just want to be sure you are happy." He whispered. "That's more important to me than anything." Sara reached across the console and dug her fingers into his hair, and pulled his lips to her own.

"I am happy, Greg, and I am happy because of you. Of course I love you. I can't believe that you thought you had to ask." She returned his grin, finding his smile infectious, and climbed out of the Denali. Greg pulled the keys out of the ignition, ready to start a new shift. Today, he thought, today was going to be a really, really good day.

Unfortunately, Nick and Catherine had a case hotter than Hades, and he was delayed at the lab. Even after he suggested Sara get a lift to her apartment with Warrick, he wasn't able to get away from the lab for another few hours. There was bad timing, then there was the bad timing of lab work. Damn Grissom for sending him back to the lab rat stint for these few weeks. However, soon was the hour of putting the plan into action.

Once home, Sara Sidle dropped her purse on the coffee table as she entered her apartment. She shed her jacket with ease, dropping it over the arm of the couch. She sighed heavily as she glanced at the answering machine, and smiled when she saw the red light blink, indicating one message. She hit the play button, and instantly Greg's voice filled the room.

"Hey. I'm going to be a little bit longer than I thought; Nick and Catherine have an obscene amount of samples to be processed. Eat dinner without me. I'll be there later. I have to stop at my place quick. Je t'aime avec tout mon coeur. I'll see you later." Sara chuckled to herself as Greg lapsed into French, and back into English. He must not have been alone in whatever room he had called her from. She kicked off her shoes.

"I love you too, loser." She told the answering machine. She was looking forward to her night off, and she was starting with the cold veggie pizza in the fridge and one of Greg's mindless movies in the cabinet.

The next thing she knew, she had woken with a start, and it was dark in the apartment. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she climbed off the couch and headed towards the bathroom for a hot shower before Greg returned from work, stripping off one layer of clothing at a time. She twisted the faucet knobs, and was met with a warm spray that became hotter in moments. Sara closed her eyes, and let the water run all over her face, down her shoulders, and over the rest of her body.

Greg turned his key to Sara's apartment, slowly opening the door. He heard her before he saw her, singing behind the closed door of the bathroom, her sultry voice, uninhibited, mixing with the sound of running water. He glanced around the living room, saw the half eaten slice of cold pizza on a plate on the coffee table, and the throw blanket rumpled. She had shed her clothing on the way to the bathroom, leaving it in a trail, which seemed to beckon him to follow it to her. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. He quietly shut the door, and set down his duffle bag. He shrugged off his leather jacket, kicked off his shoes. He pulled the velvet box out of his jeans pocket, and opened it. Grinning at the sight of the tiny sparkling diamond set in the gold band, he plucked it out, and strung it on a simple gold chain, clasping it around his neck.

This was going to be good.

Very good.

He dropped his belt beside her shirt, and tossed his socks near her pants. Greg silently opened the bathroom door.

"Hey."

"Hi, I'll be but a minute. How is Nick and Catherine's case coming?"

"Fine. They are closing it now." He opened the shower door, and walked into the warm spray.

"Greg! You're getting your clothes all wet." He spun her and pressed his lips against hers as she leaned into his embrace seductively. "Or we could just take them off." He laughed against her lips and nodded. He pulled her closer as she swiftly rid him of his tee shirt. He kissed down her jaw line, waiting with the anticipation of a small child at Christmas morning for her to notice the delicate chain and the ring strung through it. He chuckled against her skin as he slipped his hands down her hips, and around her waist. Her fingers were at his jeans' button, already soaking wet, when she froze.

"Greg."

"Mmmm." He smiled to himself and continued to press light kisses up her collarbone, and in the crook of her neck.

"Greg." She pushed him away by a few inches, and he broke out into a full on grin when he saw that her eyes had found the ring, hanging from around his neck. They stood like that; hips pressed together, faces inches apart, water beating down on Sara's back, for what was actually only a few moments, but what seemed like several long, rainy days to Greg.

"I kinda had something on my mind these days-"

"Greg."

"Sara." He grinned at her like a fool, raising a dripping hand to her dripping cheek, turning her face towards him, meeting her eyes with his. "Will you marry me?"

Greg received the answer he had hoped and prayed for months as Sara captured his lips with her own, and pressed him up against the tile wall. He broke away, and held her face in his hands, the water turning cooler.

"Please?"

"Absolutely." She reached up and pushed his scraggly hair out of his face. Mischief sparkled in his eyes, and chestnut irises burned to a deep chocolate with desire. In one swift movement Greg had spun her around in the shower stall, pinned her against the tiles, and lifted her to rest on his hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and buried her hands in his dripping hair.

Greg groaned loudly as the forgotten water shooting from the showerhead turned icy cold as the hot water ran out. He reached behind him and threw open the stall door, as Sara untangled herself and shut off the valve to stop the offending water. He grabbed a towel off the rack and tossed it on the toilet cover, draping another one around Sara's dripping body.

Greg sat on the toilet cover, pulling Sara down onto his lap. She straddled him, dropping a tender kiss on his lips, and ruffled his hair into gentle spikes. She draped her arms around his shoulders, and planted another kiss in his hair.

"Greg." Sara tilted her head to see his eyes. Greg met her gaze, and choked out a laugh. "What's so funny?"

"I, uh, I forgot to, um, well, I forgot the part where I give you the ring." He ducked his head, removing the delicate chain from his neck. His fingers closed over the diamond. He took her left hand, and pressed a kiss in its palm, and slipped the ring onto her finger. When he returned his gaze to her face, he saw tears streaming from her eyes. As she blinked them away, a single tear fell from her cheek to his hands that held both of hers.

"What?" Sara smiled as Greg started to laugh all over again. Her questioning just made him laugh harder.

"Well, I asked you to marry me in the bathroom. Tell me that isn't the funniest thing ever."

And Sara tossed her head back and laughed heartily, and that, to Greg, was the very best part of his day. And it had been a very good day indeed.