Author's Note: Okay, just had to share… when I showed this chapter to ScullyAsTrinity, she said "Hey, turns out I'm allergic to CSINuts."

"What are you in the mood for?"

Sara looked up from the laundry she was folding and cocked her head thoughtfully. "I don't really have a preference… you?"

Grissom shrugged. "Anything's fine."

"Global food, then?"

"Sure."

She made her way over to the large globe of the earth that stood in the corner of his living room. "How many seconds?"

He pursed his lips. "Five."

Placing a steadying hand on the frame, she spun the globe, counting to five before jabbing her finger on a random spot. "Okay, looks like… Italy."

"You sure?"

"Well, it's on the border of Italy and Slovenia," she conceded. "Know any good Slovenian restaurants in the area?"

"Italian it is. And I know just the place."

Vincenzo's was off the beaten path, but fairly busy for a Wednesday evening. Grissom and Sara explored the modest gardens surrounding the restaurant, enjoying the cool night air until their number was called. Within minutes, they were seated at a candlelit table, sipping white wine. The waiter presented them with a basket of warm, crusty bread, along with a bowl of seasoned olive oil.

"Yeah, this totally beats Slovenian food," Sara said, licking oil and salt off her fingertips.

"Like you'd know," he retorted, tearing off another hunk of bread. "At least your finger didn't land in Antarctica this time."

She grimaced. That night, they'd been forced to eat frozen dinners. "Okay, but you were the one who pointed to Anchorage last week."

"Baked Alaska and Eskimo pies," he recalled blissfully. "Who needs vitamins, anyway?"

They both opened their menus while munching on bread. As always, Grissom began by quickly scanning the menu for meatless items. Satisfied that Sara would have enough options, he spotted an old favorite of his own.

"Have you decided what you would like this evening?" The waiter was back, filling their glasses with ice water and brandishing a pad of paper.

"I'll have the mushroom ravioli," Sara said, handing him her menu.

"That comes with a choice of soup or salad," the waiter replied. "Which do you prefer?"

"Salad, please."

"Very good. And you, sir?"

"Linguini with pesto sauce," Grissom said. "And minestrone soup."

"Excellent choice. I'll be right back with your soup and salad."

As the waiter darted away, Sara gazed around the restaurant. It was filled with couples chatting quietly and enjoying the food and wine. "Where'd you hear about this place?"

"Oh, I found it years ago."

"When you were romancing a different woman every weekend?"

"Right," he said, smiling wryly. "No, I came here alone. Usually with a book."

"So how did you find it?" she pressed. "Word of mouth?"

"No, actually," he replied, as the waiter set a steaming bowl of soup in front of him. "Believe it or not, I came out here on a case."

Her eyes widened as she speared some lettuce with her fork. "Ooh, tell. What dirty secret are they hiding?"

"Well," he said reluctantly, picking up a spoon, "the owner's son disappeared."

"Uh huh..."

"And it turned out he'd been murdered, and his remains had been cooked into the minestrone soup." Grissom slurped his soup nonchalantly as Sara started at him, utterly aghast.

"You're kidding."

"Of course I'm kidding," he chuckled. "I came out on a suspected arson. When I looked at all the evidence, it was clear that the source of the fire had been electrical wiring. Definitely accidental. The owner was so relieved that the insurance was going to pay that he treated me to dinner that night. And I just kept coming back."

"Alone," she said sadly.

He just smiled. "Till now."

When their entrées arrived, she claimed that the ravioli was the best she'd ever eaten. "Really, Griss, you've got to try this."

Leaning over the table, he helped himself to a bite. "Wow, that is good. Try some of mine."

She shook her head, her mouth full of food.

"Just one bite. Their pesto sauce is amazing."

"Can't," she said after she'd swallowed. "I'm allergic to pine nuts." Sara kept eating until she noticed the silence, and looked up to find Grissom staring at her in horror. "What?"

"You're allergic to pine nuts?"

"Yeah..."

"Since when?"

"Since always."

"How could I not know that?" Dropping his fork, Grissom began gesturing wildly with his hands. "What if one night I'd cooked you a surprise dinner, and you hadn't known there were pine nuts in it?" he asked. "What then?"

"Then... my mouth would tingle and go numb," she said, trying not to smile in the face of his obvious distress. "And a couple hours later I'd be fine."

"What else should I know about? Do you have any other allergies? Any diseases that run in your family, that I should look out for?"

She grasped his hand gently. "Grissom, take a breath. I'm not allergic to anything else. Nothing runs in my family. I'm fine."

He sulked for a moment, then squeezed her hand and let go, turning back to his food. "You better be fine," he mumbled.

"I am."

"Maybe we should schedule an appointment with your doctor, just to make sure."

"Knock it off, or I'll try your linguini."

Her threat did the trick, and he twirled more pasta on his fork before freezing again. "Wait."

"What?"

"Does this mean I can't kiss you? I mean, if I kiss you will your mouth go numb?"

She waggled her eyebrows at him. "Baby, when you kiss me, everything goes numb."

"You did not just call me baby," he groused. "I'm practically old enough to be your father."

"Ooh, want me to call you Daddy?"

"Sara!"

She giggled helplessly as he turned red.

"It's not funny."

"Sorry," she said, looking anything but.

"I'll go online and do some research when we get home," he said pensively. "I bet there's a list somewhere of all foods that have pine nuts in them."

"Like pine nut butter and jelly sandwiches?"

"No puns," he groaned.

"Not a fan?"

He shook his head. "I guess I'm allergic to pun nuts."