A/N: I know. It's been awhile. Life, oh well… Anyway, here's the end of Part 1, the next part should be up soon (as in shorter than it took me to post this chapter). Well, here you go. Enjoy!

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

"You ready to go?" Grissom asked, although he could plainly see that Sara had placed her now packed suitcase right next to the door and was just searching for her shoes.

"I know I threw them over here somewhere," she told no one in particular.

"If you would just place them neatly by the door, you wouldn't have this problem," Grissom playfully harassed her.

"Well, if I remember correctly," she picked up her shoes from underneath her coffee table, "it was you who was the one being yelled at by Mike to put away your shoes neatly."

"And I've done so ever since," he smiled as he replied, happily remembering a time when there was no such thing as reservation or timidity in his and Sara's relationship.

Harvard, Massachusetts; Fall 1991

"Mike! Mike, get back here!" a twenty-year-old Sara Sidle yelled as she chased her equal aged and equally intelligent roommate around their apartment.

"I don't think so. You'll get your paper back when you admit that you actually said that two plus two was two!"

"No!" she playfully screamed. Sara paused at the doorway. Chasing Mike while screaming at the top of her lungs quickly drained her oxygen, but her smile was still plastered to her face. "Michael Adam Wilcox, give me back my twenty-three page paper right now! It took me days!"

"Then admit it!"

"I don't think my psych teacher will understand when I say my roommate ate my paper!" She was cracking up at her own joke when she heard the doorbell ring. Better be important, she thought, ready to kill whoever was ruining her fun. Her anger quickly dissipated, though, when she saw who was standing at the door.

"Ms. Sidle." Gil Grissom chivalrously announced.

"Grissom!" she practically shrieked. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing a seminar in a few days and decided to take some time to visit my star pupil," he jokingly told her, knowing that she was always telling him that she was trying to be just that.

"Hey, Sar, who's at the door?" Mike asked, coming out of his hiding spot in the bathroom.

"It's Dr. Grissom," she softly yelled to him, still staring into the older man's eyes.

"Ah, Dr. Grissom," Mike said knowingly.

"Just Grissom, please, the doctor title makes me feel old."

"Sure, Grissom." He gave him an approving once over, noticing every inch of his broad shouldered, evenly muscled build. "Well, I can tell why Sara can't stop talking about you," Mike told Grissom as he approached the doorway.

"Hey!" Sara playfully hit him.

"Really?" Grissom questioned, cocking an eyebrow; a gesture Sara would grow to love. The men began to laugh at the obvious agitation they were causing, and laughed even harder when they saw a blush creep up the back of her neck.

"Can we, get on with our lives… please." Sara suggested, inching slowly back into the apartment.

"Sure," Mike calmly told her, effectively masking his obvious enjoyment of finally out-witting Sara Sidle. The three went inside, Sara quickly snatching her paper back from Mike's unsuspecting hands.

"Ha!" she proudly exuded, quickly recoiling her gesticulations when she remembered her company. The only reaction she got was another hysterical round of laughter from Mike and a smug smirk from Grissom, from which she just smiled at. She was glad someone was not taking as much enjoyment from her embarrassment as Mike was.

The three eventually made it to the small living room, Mike choosing to sit in the arm chair watching the two science geeks squirm trying to stay as far away from each other as they could on the two cushioned love seat.

"Oh, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself. Michael Wilcox," he said, and stuck out his hand.

"Grissom," he said, taking the hand extended to him. "So," Grissom clumsily began. "What are doing at Harvard, Mike?"

"Studying law," he told him indifferently with a slow shrug of his shoulders. At Grissom raised eyebrow, which they would both learn was his personalized sign to elaborate, Mike did so. "My dad's choice, not mind." Grissom nodded his head in understanding. "It was either this or no college, and I decided at least this would be a decent life," compared to being shunned from my family, he thought to himself. Grissom sensed there was more to the story, but decided to stay quite, determining that he barely knew the man.

After hours of easy conversation, Sara noticed the time. "Well, I'm going go to go hit the sack. Hey, Grissom, where are you staying?"

Grissom contemplated her question, quickly realizing that that was the thing he forgot to do before leaving for the seminar he would be speaking at. I knew I forgot something, he scolded himself. "Uh, actually, no. You know those times you walk out the door and know that you forgot something?" Mike and Sara both nodded. "This is one of those times."

"You could stay here," Sara said, a tad too enthusiastically. The men stared at her. "You… you could stay in Mike's room and he could sleep with me for the night. Trust me, that is not a couch you would want to sleep on."

"Oh, you and Mike aren't…?" Grissom trailed off, quite confused.

"Together?" Sara asked, waving a hand between her and Mike. Both look at each other, and simultaneously burst into laughter.

"He thought-" Mike began before being consumed by laughter.

"That we were-" Sara tried to finish but failed when another bout of laughter hit her.

Once both were composed once more, Mike explained. "Sorry, but there is no way that I would ever think that Sara would be a good partner for me." Grissom was about to interrupt when he was silenced with an apologetic face and a wave of a hand. "It's not that I don't think that Sara would be an excellent partner, I would be thrilled if we were together, it just so happens, sir, that I'm gay."

"Oh. That makes sense." Grissom thought about it a minute more, then nodded his head and went to take a look at the room he'd be sleeping in.

"Well, that went better than I thought it would," Mike declared, watching the older man look at his room.

"Another thing I love about the man." Sara smiled blissfully and sighed. When she heard Mike begin to laugh again, she playfully shoved him and began to walk back to her room. "I'm going to bed, I'll see you when I wake up." And after another few seconds of laughing, Mike went to join her.

After a few minutes, Grissom walked out of his room, and, noticing that his two friends were in their room, kicked off his shoes and headed back to his own room.

As the sun slowly rose on the horizon, so did Mike, and then quickly fell as he tripped over Grissom's shoes. "Gil Grissom!" he screamed. This not only woke up Grissom, but Sara appeared in her own doorway.

"Uh huh," he answered, still escaping from his subconscious.

"You left you're shoes in the middle of the floor!"

"Sorry."

"Mike, don't be mad at him, we were up late last night, and he was probably just really tired, and he probably just needed to go to sleep like I do-" she yawned, "now. Come, let's go back to sleep."

"I'm not tired," Mike answered back. "But go right ahead. I'm sorry about yelling at you, Grissom. I'm a little cranky in the morning."

"Is 'k," Grissom answered, still half sleeping. "Night," he told them and headed back to bed.

"Uh huh," Sara answered and did the same.

Mike took this chance to notice that they both went into the same room, but decided to let them figure it out themselves. Meanwhile, he had some shoes to attend to.

"Grissom!" He was knocked out of his reverie when he heard someone call his name. "Grissom, come on, let's go!"

Realizing the voice was Sara's, he quickly complied, moving to help her with her suitcase. "Is this all?" he questioned, holding up the bag.

"I travel light," she answered, and headed out the door. Grissom followed suit, and after she locked her door and put her keys away, the two headed to Grissom's Denali; his hand never leaving the small of her back.