Disclaimer – See Chapter One.

Author's Note - To answer one concern that was voiced by a couple of people - Sara re-painting her apartment. I love her purple walls in 'canon', I do honestly. But I was being all metaphorical and didn't think of people's attachments to said wall color. What I was getting at was that Purple is the color of bruising (and we all know how much Sara's past has left her bruised) - Well, she's trying to move away from that now and let the light into her life and move forward - hence the lighter colored walls. Also the Moroccan red she almost painted her bedroom walls was my little tribute to the work Jorja Fox was doing in Morocco this past summer (and it just happens to be the color of the feature wall in my bedroom...)

Finally note I'd like to make before I shut up and let you read the chapter is about the angst. I warned of heavy angst in this chapter and you'll find pretty much none in the first couple of chapters. Why? Because sometimes it's always darkest before the dawn. And sometimes the exact opposite is true...

Chapter Two – Passion & Shopping

It was close to midnight when Grissom finally made it back to his townhouse.

The crime scene still haunted him. A master at concealing his emotions, he rarely gave his co-workers a clue as to how much certain crimes sickened him. He had three big problem areas – Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse and drugs being sold to kids. Truth be told, anything that affected kids usually bothered him immensely, and his usual routine after such cases would be to go home, pour himself several large whiskeys, and try in vain to block it all out. He knew the faces of the two children from tonight's case, not to mention their poor mother, would haunt him for a while to come.

As he slid his key into the lock of his front door, he suddenly remembered that he was not going into an empty house. Sara would still be there, waiting for him. The speed at which his heart lightened at the thought of this told him all he needed to know about their relationship. Going home to her suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She was curled up on his sofa; the entomology text she had been reading had fallen to the ground as she succumbed to sleep. Grissom smiled. It was nice to know that Sara Sidle actually did sleep from time to time. Moving quietly, so not to wake her, he lifted the afghan that lay across the chair and began to cover her with it.

'Hey there.' Her voice startled him.

'I thought you were sleeping.'

'I was.' She opened her eyes and stretched out on the sofa like a cat. 'I'm awake now.'

Kneeling down at her side, he softly kissed her lips. 'If you're tired…'

She immediately sat up as if to prove that was not the case. 'I'm not tired.'

Grissom sat back on his heels and regarded her gravely. 'Sara, you need your sleep. We can… be together another night.'

'Gris, I'm not tired!' she insisted.

Grissom shook his head. 'No, I'm sorry. I have to insist you go straight to bed.'

Ignoring any further protests she issued, he stood up and, in one quick action, picked her up into his arms with the agility of a man ten years his junior. She squealed in surprise.

'Grissom! What are you doing?'

'Taking you to bed.'

His husky tone suggested she would be getting little sleep this night, and she was delighted at that prospect.

Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her face against his neck, breathing in the maleness of his scent. He let out a low groan as her lips nipped and caressed at the sensitive area where his neck and shoulder met.

Reaching the bedroom, he gently laid her down on his bed. 'You get some sleep. I'll take the sofa.'

He turned as if to leave, but Sara reached out and grabbed his hand. He turned grinning. 'You better be kidding, or you're in big trouble,' she told him in a soft, dangerous voice.

Moving back towards her, the smile in his eyes became clouded over with desire. He sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly traced the contours of her face with his fingertips. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. As his fingers brushed across her lips, she parted them slightly, capturing one of his fingers in her mouth, sucking on it sensuously.

Taking one of her hands in his, he pulled her into a sitting position, lifting her and to caress it gently with his lips. Tracing soft kisses from the tip of her fingers and down to her wrist; he pulled her closer to him, their bodies now merely a breath apart.

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent that was Sara. His tongue flicked over her sensitive flesh, sending shivers of pleasure down to the base of her spine. He seemed in no particular hurry, as if he wanted to savor each and every moment that passed between them; each moment was to be revered and worshipped as though sacred.

In one fluid movement, her top came over her head and landed on the floor. He traced her now bare shoulders with his large fingers, gently, as though she were a china doll. Sara's head went back as he ran his fingers along her throat, teasing her at her most sensitive spot. When his lips traced the same path his fingers had, Sara moaned in delight.

Sliding her body across his, she straddled him, her long legs wrapping around him territorially. With more urgency than he had shown, she tugged his shirt out of his pants and claimed his skin with her fingertips. Sliding her hands around to the front to unbutton his shirt, she was surprised when his body jerked in response. She drew herself back and looked at his face. An embarrassed smile played on his lips.

'Are you ticklish?' she asked in surprise. She hadn't noticed before.

He shrugged. 'A little. In certain… places.'

Sara smiled seductively. 'I'll just have to take my time discovering all these ticklish… places then, won't I?'

They sunk back on the bed laughing as she ravaged him with tickles. For a moment he was helpless, unable to breathe through the laughter. Then he flipped her onto her back and straddled her, pinning both arms above her head.

'You're going to pay for that, Ms Sidle.'

'Really,' she said, breathless from both the laughter and the thrill of the man on top of her. 'And just how are you planning on…'

But he was done with playing. Swooping down quickly, he captured her lips and kissed her senseless, putting pay to anymore questions, any more games. When he released her, he saw not humor in her eyes but hunger, a passion that equaled his own.

There would be no sleep for either of them that night…

Mia Dickerson found him in his office two nights later, pouring over the ever increasing mountain of paperwork on his desk.

'I have the preliminary results on your domestic assault case.'

'You ran DNA?' Grissom was puzzled since they still hadn't located the husband, and therefore had no definitive means of comparison.

'No, but I ran blood type. It matches they blood type on the husband's medical records. And its XY,' she replied. 'Still no luck locating him?'

He shook his head. 'Not yet.'

'Well, when you do, send a sample my way and I'll get to work on DNA comparison.'

Grissom nodded absentmindedly as she left the office. There was no urgency for DNA in this case. They didn't need to prove who had attacked Elaine Harper. They just needed to find him.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear a second person enter his office until she cleared her throat.

'Busy?'

'As ever,' he looked up and gave the strawberry blonde woman a tired smile. 'What can I do for you, Cath?'

Catherine sat down with out waiting to be invited and crossed her long, graceful legs with the agility of the dancer she once was.

'I'm just checking in. Making sure you have your speech written.'

His face was blank. 'Speech?'

'Tomorrow night? Big dinner? Ecklie's promotion? Cavallo asked you to give a speech? Any of this ringing a bell?'

The blank expression was gradually replaced by a look of disgust. 'I forgot.'

'Deliberately, no doubt,' she remarked. 'Write the damn speech, Gil.'

She got to her feet was making for the door when another thought struck her. 'Sara going with you?'

'Huh?'

Catherine fought the urge to roll her eyes. 'Is Sara your date for the evening?'

Preoccupied on the subject of the speech he had no interest in writing, Grissom only half glanced up. 'Uh… sure… I'm mean…'

Unable to prevent the eye-rolling this time, Catherine left the office determined to help things along.

The next day, Sara was nonplused to find Catherine at her door.

'Hey. Feel like a shopping trip?'

The puzzled expression on Sara's face only grew.

'He didn't call you yet, did he?'

'I'm officially lost,' Sara finally said, shaking her head in confusion. She stood back from the doorway. 'Come on in.'

Still none the wiser, Sara waited until Catherine was inside, and then shut the front door.

'Who didn't call me yet and why do you all of a sudden want to go shopping with me?'

It was Catherine's turn to shake her head, this time in disbelief. 'The lengths that man will go to, to avoid giving a speech…' At the look on Sara's face, that was rapidly going from confused to pissed off, she sighed. 'Ecklie's promotion dinner is tonight. Grissom has to speak at it, and he wants to take you. But I think he thinks that if he forgets to ask you, then he won't have to go either…'

It took a moment for Sara to get her head around all of that, but when she did, she frowned. 'I'm not going.'

'Oh, come on Sara. He would have asked you eventually. But you know what he's like…'

'That isn't why I'm not going. I hate those things. Formality and me just don't mix. And I… I don't have anything to…'

'Wear?' It was Sara's turn to receive Catherine's eye-rolling treatment. 'Hence the shopping trip… I'd have thought a CSI of your caliber would have worked that out.'

'Cath… I don't know…'

'I do. Grab your purse.'

It rapidly became obvious that Catherine was not going to take "no" for an answer, so Sara shrugged in defeat and dutifully picked up her purse and keys. As they made for the door, the phone began to ring.

'Probably Grissom, finally calling to tell you about tonight.'

'He can invite my machine. Make him sweat for a few hours.'

Catherine gave the younger woman a look of both surprise and approval before heading out of the apartment.

As the door clicked shut, the machine began to record.

'Sara? ... Honey, I know we haven't talked for a while, but… Well… I'd like to see you… I need to… well… I need to talk to you. It's sort of… urgent. I'll… I'll call you later, okay?'

TBC.