The last dregs of sleep wearing off, Sara Sidle went to stretch when she found her right arm immobilized by something. She looked down to see her left hand entwined with Grissom's right and sighed. She didn't know how he'd react when he awakened, so, placing the uncompleted file back on his desk with her right hand, she settled back down into her original position.

The shuffling and slight noise interrupted Grissom from his light slumber, and as he turned his head, he was bombarded with the amazing smell of Sara's shampoo, unconsciously taking a large breath to ingrain the smell into his memory.

Meanwhile, Sara sat there wide-eyed, wondering if he was really awake, part of her praying that he wasn't, most of her praying that he was. She knew the truth, though, when he spoke.

"Good morning."

She sighed in relief, relief for the fact that he wasn't angry at their current position, and relief for the fact that he actually sounded happy. "Good morning," she repeated, turning around as she spoke, both immediately missing the warm contact. "We overslept," she joked, coming closer, resting her head once again on his shoulder.

"That we did," he agreed as he put his own unfinished file back on his desk. She yawned, immediately placing the back of her right hand over her mouth. Grissom laughed, before being overcome as he himself instinctually yawned. This brought about a laugh from Sara, a sight and sound Grissom knew he would treasure forever. "Oh, you think that's funny?" And with that he poked her side, between her ribs and her waist. This elicited a round of childish giggles from Sara, causing Grissom to laugh in response.

"You'll pay for that one," she playfully told him as she looked up, their noses nearly touching.

"Oh, will I?"

"Oh yeah," she stated confidently.

"Well, you're going to have to catch me first." Before Sara could even process his words, he was out of his chair headed to the door.

"Wha… Grissom!" Finding the door locked, she almost caught up with him as he struggled to unlock it, but he opened the door just in time and scrambled out. She stopped just outside the door and yelled after him, he being halfway down the hall. "Grissom, this is insane!" She laughed as he turned around stuck his tongue out at her before resuming his swift jog down the corridors of the lab. Oh, she thought, now it's war.

She sprinted after him, nearly knocking down Judy, the secretary, in her mad dash to the front door. Once outside, a quick scan of the surrounding area proved fruitful when she found him panting next to the driver's side door of his government-issued Denali. "Caught 'ya," she said, smiling.

"That… you… did," he told her, still panting. "You're not… even… breathing hard. Why?"

"Ten mile jog when I have the time, which usually means whenever you kick me out of the lab." It was sad but true, she realized, that she really did have no life outside of the lab. That is, until now, she thought. I think.

"Well," Grissom said, finally able to catch his breathe. "I'm not as young as I once was."

"Not as bright, either," Sara countered. "I told you I'd get you back."

"Bring it on," he answered.

Sara shrugged. "Maybe later," she told him nonchalantly. "So, what are we doing?"

"What do you mean, 'what are we doing'?"

"You told me to meet you at the end of shift. It's the end of shift. Actually," she glanced at her watch. "It's two and a half hours past the end of shift. That certainly fits into your time span of telling me."

"Okay. Meet me at the diner in about a half hour, I'll explain everything."

"Sure. See you then."

"Bye." With that, they parted ways, as Grissom got into his Denali and Sara headed over to her Tahoe.