Ack, sorry for the VERY late update, but reality is really hectic right now. Anyway, this is a very LONG chapter...so I hope everyone who was reading is still willing to continue on. I promise my next update will be sooner!

Thanks to everyone that's been reviewing. You all are awesome:)

August 10, 2006: Two weeks later

"So…"

Grissom looked up from his meal and quirked an eyebrow at Sara. "So?"

"Your birthday's next week," she stated as she wiped alfredo sauce from her lips. "Excited?"

"No." He paused. "I'm old."

She genuinely laughed. "You aren't old, Gris. You're…elderly?" He shot her a look which made her laugh even more. "Okay fine…you're ancient! Happy?"

"Sara…"

She shook her head and reached across the table to grasp his hand. "Grissom, I'm serious." Seeing him purse his lips, she added, "Not about the ancient part." Giving him a soft smile, she continued, "You should be excited about your birthday. What do you want anyway?"

"I have everything I want."

"Humor me."

Grissom squeezed her hand. "Now it's my turn to be serious." He put down the fork that was loosely gripped in his free hand. "The only thing I've ever wanted over the years was something I knew—or thought—I could never have." Giving Sara a pointed look, he finished, "I have that now."

She blushed. "As sweet as that was Gris…it doesn't make my job in finding you a gift any easier."

He shrugged as he stood up with his plate. "Surprise me." Dumping plate and utensils in the sink, he smirked at her. "I want something that only you can give me."

Sara smirked seductively and got up to wrap her arms around him. "You can have that anytime you know?"

"Actually…" he pulled back a little. "There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you."

Her eyebrow rose automatically. "Oh?"

Rubbing his hands up and down her arms, he looked away. "I sort of told the doctors that I would take care of Jim when he's able to check out. They suggested that someone should stay with him while he recovers."

"Oh." She paused and tightened her hold on him. "For how long?"

"Two weeks to a month," Grissom stated nonchalantly. "I was thinking that I could just go back to my townhouse. Just wipe the dust that's been building up, and move some of my stuff back there."

Sara sighed and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I don't know if I could stand living alone for that long." She blushed as she realized that words that came out of her mouth. "I—I mean, I'm just use to…" Her cheeks reddened as she stammered and pushed herself away from his comforting arms.

Risking a glance at Grissom, she was surprised to find him smiling at her sympathetically. "Sara…I know what you mean. I feel the same way," he said as he made a successful grab for her hand.

"So why don't we just tell him?" she blurted.

His lips pursed and his eyebrow rose. "You'll be okay with that?"

"Would you?" she challenged.

"Sara…"

Oh how she hated when he said her name like that. "I'm just saying. Brass could stay here, and we both could help him through his recovery." She batted the air wildly with her free hand, gesturing in harmony to her words. "I trust him to keep our secret. He is your best friend after all."

"Catherine would argue with that," he said, shrugging.

"Stop it." She tried to punch him with both of their entwined hands. "I'm serious; I don't want to spend a month in this big empty house."

"And I don't want you to," he replied, pulling her back into his embrace. Letting his mouth run quickly over hers, he added, "What about our bet?"

Sara pulled away and flopped on the couch dramatically. "What bet?"

"Uhh, a week ago…"

"Oh yeah, that." She pursed her lips and looked up as he loomed over her. "I don't really care, we can call it off—seeing as how neither of us picked Brass."

Grissom smirked as he joined her on the couch, "Ah, but Brass isn't going to find out; we're going to tell him. And, he's not a CSI. So technically, he doesn't count."

"Do you really care?" she said as he kicked off his shoes. "Or are you that adamant to prove me wrong."

His arms raised in self-defense as he shifted her legs onto his lap. "Just want to be fair."

She laughed, "Ok so what was it you wanted anyway? I get a 'promise ring' if Greg figures it out first. What do you get?"

Grissom pondered for a moment, "If Catherine figures it out first…Ernest gets a spot on the vanity in our room."

Sara's face automatically scrunched up in disgust. "No way! I don't want to sleep in the same room as that thing!"

"Thing?"

"Grissom, it's a tarantula!"

"Yes, he's a tarantula. But he's harmless, Sara." He leaned over her to nuzzle her neck. "It's such a hassle to check up on him in the guest bedroom. And plus…my request is cheaper than a ring," he offered.

She pushed his head away dramatically. "Fine," she agreed with a certain tone of distaste. "I'll just make sure Catherine won't figure it out."

Grissom smirked and went back to the skin on her neck. "Game on."

"Gil. Where are we going?" Brass asked warily as they drove away from his house in the opposite direction of Grissom's townhouse. He cursed at himself inwardly—annoyed and irritated that packing a couple of bags with clothes had gotten him so exhausted.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Grissom replied awkwardly, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you." He paused briefly, watching Brass' eyebrows raise in the corner of his eye. "I bought a new house."

The exhaustion seemed to warp into curiosity. "Oh?"

Grissom gave a semi-shrug as he changed lanes. "Well…half of it." Stopping at a red light he risked a glance at his friend in the passenger's seat.

Brass' eyebrows rose higher than expected, and his mouth shifted upward in what Grissom could only describe as either a painful smile, or a sympathetic grimace. He sighed and then chuckled lightly—his voice still pretty hoarse. "So…I get shot, and you get a new girlfriend plus a house?" Grissom accelerated as the light turned green, and Brass grinned at his friend's discomfort. "Well it's true what they say. The world is full of surprises."

"Jim…"

"Hey, I'm not judging," he coughed. "So, do I get the pleasure of meeting the poor—I mean lucky—lady?"

"Good to see that you haven't changed, Jim. You're still not funny."

"Jealousy doesn't go with that face of yours, Gil. And you still didn't answer my question."

The only reply Brass got was the patented eyebrow raise.

They drove in comfortable silence for the majority of the ride. Brass tried to whistle at the sight of the fairly huge house as the car rolled up the driveway. Annoyed with his chapped lips and sore throat, he took a sip of the water bottle Grissom had provided when he was picked up. As the garage door opened, he sputtered and coughed at the sight of a very hideous yet familiar-looking Toyota Prius.

Grissom parked his Mercedes next to it, killed the engine, and walked around to open Brass's door. Brass gave him a look, noticing Grissom's slight blush of embarrassment as he got out of the car. "I'll get your bags," Grissom murmured.

After his arms were full and the garage was shut, he led Brass through the door that led into the laundry room. "How long?" he asked nonchalantly.

Grissom set the bags down on top of the dryer. "Almost 11 months now."

"Cuh…"

At his surprised huff, Grissom smirked. "We know how to be discreet."

"No kidding."

He opened the other door to lead to the rest of the house, a cool wave of AC hitting him the moment he did. Grissom grinned as their topic of conversation approached him. Sara smiled at Brass awkwardly, clearly embarrassed as a light hue of red graced her cheeks.

"I'm guessing he told you."

Brass smirked and jerked his thumb behind him, "Nah, I figured it out myself. That hideous hunk of metal was a dead give-away."

Sara frowned at how hoarse and tired he sounded. She reached over to loop her arm through his. "It's an efficient hunk of metal. C'mon, I'll show you to your room."

Grissom grinned at his best friend and girlfriend's retreating backs as they headed down the hall. He let out a sigh of contentment, because for once in his life, that's what he was—content. No. He was more than content—he was happy.

Brass grinned as he examined the house. It wasn't about to win any prize on interior design, but it was obvious that what little taste Sara had in homes had reflected in their house. Unlike Grissom's townhouse, this house eluded a warm feeling with hardwood floors and soft colors. "Not bad," he stated as Sara led him into the guest room.

She grinned, "It's your home for the next couple of weeks."

"Great," he muttered.

"Jim…" Sara frowned sympathetically. "I didn't mean it that way."

He waved his hand and shrugged it off. "I know what you meant. And you're right; this is going to be my home. I can barelylift my shirt over my head…so let's face it: I need your help."

"Don't worry, I won't mother you," she replied grinning.

"Good to know…seeing how I'm old enough to be your father." He eased himself slowly onto the bed, kicking off his shoes and laying back on the pillows.

"Can I get'cha anything?"

"No, but thank you. I think I'm just going to take a nap, Sara." He let his eyelids close slowly. "Been a long day."

She smiled warmly at him when he put his arm protectively over his chest. "Well, Gris and I will be next door if you need anything."

She heard him grunt in disgust as she was about to close the door. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Jim."

As the door clicked shut, he smiled contently and drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

Brass awoke to a throbbing in his chest. He groaned as he sat up and snatched his painkillers from the bed-side table. Popping two into his mouth, he swallowed them dry and headed down the hall to seek out his roommates.

"Gil?" he called as he entered the living room. Frowning at the empty room, he meandered into the kitchen to help himself to a cup of water. Walking back down the hall, he paused at the last door—light murmurs wafting through the crack on the bottom.

"Sara…"

He steppedcloser and put his ear up against the door.

"Shhh…honey….."

"Oh. GOD!" came Sara's hushed scream.

"Jim's…next door."

Jumping away from the door like he had been burned, Brass shivered.

"Well, we are never doing that again!" Sara huffed, still out of breath.

Rolling his naked body off hers, Grissom grinned. "Never?"

"Not until Jim leaves!" she retorted. "I thought you said we were going to be celibate for the next two weeks or so!"

"You came onto me…" he said evenly. "…In more ways than one." Sara glared at him. He caught her gaze and laughed, "Ok, so I lied. It's harder than I thought it was going to be."

Sara scowled as she threw on her robe. "This was a bad idea…" Grissom cocked an eyebrow at her as he propped himself up on his elbow. "He's been here for what?..." She glanced at the clock resting on the bedside table, "...three hours! Can you imagine another two weeks?"

Grissom swung his feet off the bed, "Well then, we don't have to be celibate."

"And what? Give Brass a heart-attack to match the hole in his chest!" She elbowed him as he wrapped his arms around her stomach. "Do you know how loud you are?"

"Me?" Grissom jumped back and put on his best wounded face. "I'm not the one screaming another man's name out in the middle of a climax."

Sara frowned, "Did not!"

Grissom grinned as he headed for the bathroom, "Did too." He turned and cleared his throat, "Oh…God! Oh God yes…"

He snickered as Sara dove at him, her fist aimed at his midsection. Grissom let out a full-fledged laugh at the sight of her beet-red face. "Would you shut it? Brass is next door!" Sara said in a hushed whisper.

"Oh relax," he said as he gave her a peck on the lips. "He's asleep."

Sara glared at his retreating back before she followed him into the bathroom. "Dibs on showering first," she declared, feeling extremely foolish.

Grissom simply cocked his eyebrow at her and stepped into the awaiting stream of water. He poked his head out and grinned, "I got here first. Of course…you can always join me."

Feeling an urge to stick her tongue out at him, Sara settled for a smirk. "That's okay, I'll use the spare bath—thank you very much."

She could sense his pout as she retreated out of the bathroom, snatching her towel off the rack in the process. As she walked past the guest bedroom, Sara listened for any movements. Silence greeted her. She smiled as she headed into their second bathroom, assuming Jim was still asleep.

She kicked the door behind her with her foot; barely nudging it closed and stripped off her robe. Just as she was about to turn on the water, she heard the door behind her creak open, followed by a "Jesus!"

Sara gasped at the sound of Brass's voice, snatched her robe, and re-covered her body hastily. "Sara, jeez…I'm sorry—I didn't know you were in here," Brass babbled, one arm draped over he's eyes. "I figured you and Gil would use the bathroom in your bedroom," he added, still blindly backing away across the hall and into his bedroom. Reaching his room door, he quickly slammed it shut, saying a last "sorry," before the door closed.

Sara stood there, her face beet red and mouth slacked-jawed. She gritted her teeth as her mood to shower completely vanished. 'So much for not giving Brass a heart attack,' she fumed inwardly. She trudged back toward her bedroom and locked the door. Seeing that Grissom was still in the middle of his shower, she smirked and flushed the toilet.

"Argh!" he yelped. A second later, his soap-sudded head poked out through the shower certain. He glared at her, "What was that for!"

Sara glared back, "That was for not letting me use the shower first." Her face started to heat up again, "Because of you, Brass just got a free show of my bare backside!"

At first his face scrunched up and his mouth twisted. She thought she saw a hint of jealously and a bit of anger in Grissom's usually stoic features, but then his lip started to tremble and his body started to shake.

"You think this is funny!"

He retracted his head back through the curtain. "Of course not honey."

"Oh yes you do! You're laughing!" Sara grabbed the ends of the shower curtain and pulled it back.

His boyish grin greeted her, "Well, it is kind of funny if you think about it."

"You're best friend just saw what's for your eyes only…and you think it's funny?" she asked disbelievingly.

Rinsing his hair, he cocked at eyebrow at her with his eyes closed—further feeding her growing irritation. "Well, you weren't facing him right? I'd be jealous otherwise—your frontal view is much sexier."

Sara gasped and flushed the toilet again. Grissom yelped as the scalding hot water yet again pierced his skin. "So I'm allowed to wiggle my naked ass to anyone, is that it? I'll remember that…"

"I didn't say that," Grissom pouted and raised his finger that her. "What Brass saw was a mere accident." He shrugged, "Would you rather have me be angry?"

"No."

He smirked as his face donned its famous "see, I'm right again" look.

Sara rolled her eyes at him as she left the bathroom, but not before flushing the toilet one more time and smirking at his angry yelp.

Later that night, Grissom, Sara, and Brass all arrived early to CSI. Though he was in no condition to start working again, Brass decided he should pay "the family" all a visit. Ever since he accidentally walked in on Sara in the bathroom, he hasn't been able to make eye contact with her since. Grissom, however, seemed to enjoy the fact he was uncomfortable—which made him question his best friend's sanity.

He and Grissom entered the empty break room, taking a seat opposite from each other as they waited for Sara to arrive in her own vehicle. "Relax Jim, it was an accident."

Brass glanced up at him, "I'm surprised you're taking it so well."

"Do you have any romantic interests in Sara?"

He huffed, "Uhh, nooo."

"Well then," Grissom held his hands out as he leaned back, "I'm not mad. And you should stop feeling awkward and at least look at her."

Brass shook his head just as Sara breezed in the room, "You've changed so much, it actually scares me."

Sara grinned at Brass as she sat down in the furthest seat from Grissom. "Don't worry, he's the same old grouch at work." Remembering his out-of-character persona about a mouth ago, she added, "Usually."

Brass shook his head, "I have no doubt about that…I mean, 11 months. You would think a bunch of trained investigators would figure it out by now."

"You didn't," Grissom stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "And speaking of which, Sara and I have a wager going on, so just remember not to give anything away when the team's around."

"First of all, I'm not a CSI. And second, what wager?"

Sara grinned, "Grissom seems to think that Catherine would figure us out first." She shot him a look, "I personally think it'd be Nick or Greg. But since Nicky would never call us out on it, I think it'd be Greg."

"Huh…"

"Catherine has too much personal stuff of her own to be worrying about ours," Sara added, raising an eyebrow at Grissom's direction.

Brass laughed, holding his chest as he did so. Sara and Grissom glanced at him worriedly, but he waved them off, "It's nothing." He paused and collected himself, "So can I be part of this wager?"

Sara furrowed her brows at him, "Depends, what would you want as a reward?"

"Nothing," Brass held his hands up. "Just bragging rights. The fact that a detective out-witted two CSIs."

Grissom grinned, "Fair enough. Who's your pick?"

"Nick and Warrick are still available," Sara added as she leaned back in her seat.

Brass shook his head, "Neither. I pick Sofia."

Grissom cocked his eyebrow, and Sara visibly tensed. "A detective over two CSIs...? Are you sure, Jim?"

He grinned, "Positive."

Grissom gave a nod in consensus just as Catherine breezed into the room with Warrick following behind her. He was grinning as Catherine continued to yap into her phone, obviously not pleased with whoever was on the receiving end. "Let's finish this conversation later, young lady," she practically snarled and snapped her phone shut.

Just then, Nick and Greg entered, seeking out their assignments for the night. Nick donned a smile until he almost ran into Catherine, "Whoa…what rained on your parade, Cath?"

Warrick and Greg took the two empty seats next to Brass after giving both giving him a manly hug and telling him it was good to see him up and about. "Feels good to be up and about," he replied.

Catherine smiled and walked over to give him a more womanly embrace. "You look great, Jim. Has Gil been feeding you?"

"Actually he isn't doing much cooking these days." Brass smiled as he saw Gil's head jerk in the corner of his eyes.

Catherine looked from Grissom to Brass questioningly before shrugging. "Takeout food then?"

"You can say that."

Catherine grinned and settled on the couch as Nick walked over and patted his shoulder, repeating much of what everyone else said. Brass smiled, feeling loved by his little makeshift CSI family—it wasn't perfect, but it was the family he never had.

"So what's up with your sour mood Cath?" Nick asked as he walked toward the fridge.

"Lindsey wants to get a tattoo," she huffed angrily. "And if she didn't need the money from me, she'd already have one!"

Warrick shrugged, "Tattoos aren't that bad."

"Yeah yeah yeah…but what's next?" Catherine replied, gesturing wildly and counting off her fingers. "Tattoo, nose ring, tongue ring…AIDs…" She shook her head and trailed off.

"You can have a tattoo and still come off as classy," Greg added. "Right Sara?"

Brass grinned as he noticed Sara shifting uncomfortably, "How would I know?"

Greg rolled his eyes, "When I said I didn't see anything in the shower, I meant anything inappropriate." He winked at her, "Your feet were fair game."

Brass practically laughed as he saw Grissom's jaw clenched. Apparently, an old hag like himself seeing the entire length of Sara's backside unclothed wasn't a threat…but Greg Sanders seeing her bare feet unnerved him.

Grissom pretended to be uninterested in the conversation as he donned his glasses and sifted through the assignment sheets in front of him. "Hmm, I never thought I'd say this…but I'm kind of jealous that Greg was the one that had to be decontaminated in a freezing cold hazmat shower," Nick said as he too winked at Sara.

The slips in Grissom's hands crinkled a bit as he pursed his lips.

"Wait. Wait a minute; you have a tattoo, Sara?" Catherine asked incredulously.

Brass pretended to be lost in thought and seized the opportunity, "Actually, she as two."

All eyes were suddenly directed at him, including a gaping Sara's and Grissom's. He tried not to grin as he put on his acting skills, "I mean—you know. What? Well, she does," he babbled out, purposely trying to stammer.

Greg turned to Sara, "So where is this second tattoo?"

"None of your business," she said through gritted teeth while sending a glare toward Brass.

Catherine's eyebrows shot up, "Somewhere for your lover's eyes only, huh?"

What meant to be a joke on Catherine's part made everyone raise their eyebrows and dart their eyes from Brass to Sara.

After an uncomfortable silence, Grissom cleared his throat. "Greg, Nick…decomp in an abandoned alley off the strip,"he said, giving both men a glarebefore handingNick the slip.Catherine…missing persons in Henderson. Warrick, Sara…you have a 419 at the Monaco. I'll meet you there after I take Jim home."

Greg continued to stare at Brass and Sara, but soon followed a groaning Nick out the door. Catherine shook her head disbelievingly for a second before following suit. Warrick snatched the assignment slip from Grissom as held out his keys, "I know, you're driving right?"

Giving Brass a final discreet glare, she stood up and presented a smile in Warrick's direction, "Yeah, picture that huh?"

Warrick chuckled at her as they headed for the parking lot. Brass grinned at Grissom as the room emptied out. "I didn't give anything away," he said upon seeingthe glare he was getting from the entomologist.

"No…no you didn't."

Brass shrugged, "Sorry, I didn't mean to. It kind of slipped."

"Really?" Grissom questioned sarcastically. "Because I noticed it didn't slip while Sofia was present."

Brass laughed, realizing it was hard to ever get anything past Grissom. "You never said I couldn't confuse my opponent's picks."

Grissom pursed his lips at him and stood, "Fine…three can play that game."

"What? You and Sara going to plant false evidence to throw off Sofia, too?"

"Maybe," Grissom smirked slightly.

Brass stood up with him, "Gil…please. Give me a little credit here." He straightened out his jacket and grinned, "Sara only speaks to Sofia on cases. Anything other than that would be considered weird. And as for you…do you really want to be throwing false hints to a woman who was, and most likely still is, interested in you?"

Grissom halted in his tracks and frowned at Brass.

"What can I say?" Brass patted his friend on the shoulder. "If I learned anything from Warrick…it's how to win a bet."

TBC...

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