Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of its characters.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews to remoob1513 and Emmithar.

Here's the last chapter. I wrote it all over new last night, as I didn't like the first version, so I hope you like this one.

Thanks for reading.

Merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Chapter 8: Last

It was actually already afternoon again when Sara arrived at home, as Grissom had assigned her and Warrick to a new case in the early morning. It had included wading and sifting through cold water for several hours and the fact that winter had finally come to Las Vegas as well, had not really improved the whole situation. Until she and Warrick had gathered everything from the scene, Sara had felt like frozen, cursing the desert climate that made it awfully cold in a winter's night.

Sara thought that she had not been freezing so much for a long time and felt still clammy when she walked towards her apartment. She realized grumpily that she would probably have to sleep alone again, without any opportunity to make Greg wince by touching him with her hands that were still ice-cold, as he had not come back to her place yet.

She had seen Greg only briefly during their shift and again they had not brought up the subject that was on both their minds. Or at least on Sara's mind – she did not know what Greg was thinking. But the way he had looked at her… if she interpreted it right he felt the same like her.

And there were not really any problems. Two nights ago they had already made this kind of silent agreement that they were fine. Sara wondered what Greg was waiting for.

She felt blank when she entered her apartment and let the door fall shut listless. In the past she had often been relieved when she had arrived home, when she had time alone, for herself, without the intrusion of any other people, but now she wanted Greg there, often loud Greg, seldom quiet Greg, jumpy, teasing, loving Greg.

She made her way to the couch, planning to just drop down there and was about to do so when she noticed a soft cushion and a blanket on the couch that had not been there before.

She looked at these items blankly, then wondered if Greg had actually come back but preferred sleeping on the couch, though he was obviously not doing so now. But where was he? He most certainly would not come over to her place, sleep there and then vanish again, would he?

Sara walked to the bedroom and was just about to open the door when Greg came out of it and stopped next to her. He was standing only a few inches away from her and Sara twitched shortly, tempted to just hug him but stopped before she had really started to move towards him.

She breathed out slowly.

"You didn't get the rest of your stuff, did you?" she asked half-jokingly, hiding her uneasiness, telling herself to pull herself together.

Greg smirked. "You didn't want me to, did you?"

"No," Sara replied plainly, although she would have liked to shout that of course not. But she remained staying there apparently calm, looking at him.

Greg leaned against the door frame, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers, as if to keep them under control, smiling at her sheepishly.

Suddenly a fizzling was coming out of the kitchen and Greg's eyes widened, Sara turning her head into the direction of the kitchen, and then following Greg with her eyes who hurried exactly there. He disappeared from her sight and she heard him calling, "I made something to warm you up."

Sara grinned to herself and called wondering, "How'd you know I was cold?" and then heard Greg crying out.

She rushed to him and saw that he had opened the oven door and had apparently tried to take out the baking dish with bare hands as he was now sucking his reddened fingers.

Sara took his hand rather resolutely and turned on the cold water in the sink, holding Greg's hand under the running water. After a little while she turned it off, letting go off his hand, though rather reluctantly.

"Better?" she asked, smiling pitifully.

Greg nodded, waving his hand shortly, and Sara pointed to the dish inside the oven. "What's this by the way?" It definitely smelled good and she wondered on what Greg had tested his cookeries – as he called it ironically.

He grinned. "Broccoli soufflé, hope you like that."

Sara laughed. "Yeah, that's good." She was amused that Greg had finally remembered what he could cook for her. During the first weeks that they had been living together he had often claimed that he had no idea what she actually ate as a vegetarian.

Greg looked at his hand and then at her again. "As for your other question: I saw you and Warrick when you came back from the scene, wet and freezing, so I guessed you'd like something warm," he told her, eyeing the dish in the oven now.

Sara smiled and finally accomplished the task to take out the baking dish.

"So, there was cold water at the scene?" Greg guessed while bringing out the dishes and Sara grimaced, nodding.

After they had finished their lunch, Greg sat down on Sara's couch and she seated herself next to him, drawing her knees to her chest.

"I thought we could have a snugly afternoon, what do you think?" Greg looked at her smiling hopefully.

"I'd be glad to," Sara answered truthfully.

Greg jumped up again, Sara smiling weakly at his bounciness that was back now that he could use his leg normally again, and he searched for his bag. After he had found it, he finally pulled out a DVD. "I brought a movie," he said grinning.

Sara looked at the cover. "Star Wars episode two?" she called out unbelieving, lifting her eyebrows.

Greg flashed a smile. "Yeah."

"I haven't seen the first part," Sara objected.

Greg screwed his eyes at Sara's sheer ignorance. "Doesn't matter," he decided and put in the DVD, pressed the start button and hurried back to the couch.

He dropped down next to Sara again, took the blanket that was still lying on the couch and wrapped it around the both of them. "Nice and warm?" he asked.

Sara snuggled closer to him. "Yeah," she said happily.

Two hours later the credits rolled and Sara sat up. "Wow. That was crappy," she smirked, looking at Greg next to her.

"Uh. Maybe. Partly," he quibbled. "But the younger guy gets the older girl."

Sara raised her eyebrows. "Don't tell me that is what you like about it," she remarked smirking. "I know you guys are all about the action."

Greg shrugged.

"There's a third part, isn't it?" Sara asked, leaning against him again.

"Yeah." He stroked her hair.

"It doesn't end well, does it?"

"No," Greg replied and added, "You worried?"

"No."

"Well, you really don't have to be. I won't go over to the dark side," he joked, emphasizing the last words dramatically, the grimacing. "I don't like Ecklie too much, you know," he grinned mischievously.

Sara chuckled quietly, answering nothing, just enjoying his company. She kissed him and ruffled his hair gently.

Finally she drew back an inch and narrowed her eyes. "Just don't dare to move out again," she warned him.

He wrapped his arms around her back. "I didn't move out."

On Sara's raised eyebrows he added, "I don't officially live here, so I can't exactly move out…"

Sara thought that she would make sure that he lived there officially. And she would start with this making-sure like tomorrow. No, better already that night. And if Greg thought he knew her determined side, he would have to realize that he had not really gotten to know it so far.

She rolled her eyes at his quirkiness. "Do you ever take anything serious?"

"Yep," he answered simply, rubbing her back, and she felt definitely warm again.

The End