DISCLAIMER: Don't Own it. No Money Made... Just for fun and enjoyment.

A/N: You it couldn't be easy with these two, right?

I just finished writing the main story tonight... And now I'm toying with an Epilogue. So, either way, you'll have the whole story by the end of the week. I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. It has also spawned ideas for few more installments of this story arc, so hopefully you won't mind spending a little more time with Stephanie and her friends in CSI

REVIEWS: Thanks to all who have reviewed. So glad everyone has enjoyed the Catherine stuff I've been doing. I really think the writers for the show are missing out on some great stuff with her :p


Chapter 46

There was no light in the room, and with her head tucked into the crook of her arm, she had no frame of reference for her location, as consciousness began to slowly creep back to her drowsy mind. She felt worn out, but oddly relieved. She had slept well for the first time in a very long while, and she was not sure if that was just how sleep felt for most people. She had little frame of reference for that conclusion, as of late. The one thing Sara Sidle was certain of in her pre-waking moment; something was different.

She took in a deep lungful of air through her nose and mouth, and that was her first indication that she was not at home. She knew those smells, she had just never experienced them together. Those scents were two things she had dreamed of experiencing in the same moment, and she felt she needed to be sure that was what was happening. She had dreamed of this moment more times than she could remember, and she wanted to be absolutely positive it was not a dream. When she inhaled next, it was fully through her nose and there it was; Grissom and musk.

She could feel that she was alone in the bed where she lay, but she also knew it was not her bed when she moved the other arm in search of her nightstand, and found an unfamiliar lamp instead. She took another deep breath, and decided it was time to open her eyes. First, she removed the arm blocking her view and slid it across the other side of the bed. She found a definite body print beside her, but it was no longer warm. How long ago had he left her there? Where was he? And where was she?

Sara had stalled long enough, and slowly fluttered her eyes open, hoping to avoid any light which may be waiting to cause her pain. She found none. She did find two bath towels, neatly folded and resting on the bed beside her. She arched her back and propped herself up on her forearms and noticed there was a sticky note on top of the towels. It was far too dark in the room to read the note, so she flopped onto her back and reached over to turn on the lamp found in her earlier exploration. She grabbed the note and read it: "Shower's on your left, help yourself. –GG." She stared at the note for a few moments, wondering why it sounded so plain, as though nothing had happened that night. Leave it to him to make THAT nothing!

She grabbed the towels, and grunted her frustration as she headed into the bathroom. When she got in there, she found her purse had made its way onto the bathroom counter, alongside a hand towel with an assortment of small portion toiletries stacked on it, and another sticky note: "Hope this is enough… If not, help yourself. –GG." She picked through the items, looking for the travel sized shampoo and conditioner and a tiny bar of soap, leaving the toothbrush and paste behind for after the shower. How often does he do this that he keeps supplies handy?

As she stood under the hot water spray of the shower, she was becoming rather indignant. He was not there when she woke up, he had left these notes for her, and she was beginning to wonder if he was even still in the house. By the time she had washed the last of the conditioner out of her hair and turned off the water, she started formulating exactly which piece of her mind she was going to give him.

She stood in front of the mirror to brush her teeth, and began to rehearse what she was going to say when she saw him. She was not sure why, but she unconsciously removed her makeup from the handbag and tried to make herself presentable. As she was finishing up, she found another sticky note; this one held up with a piece of scotch tape as insurance; "Bottom Drawers = Pants/Shorts, Middle Drawers = Shirts… Help yourself. –GG." She stared at the note for a few minutes, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. She was convinced he had already skipped out of the place and was doing his best to make the whole night disappear. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him get away with THAT!

She stomped out of the bathroom and over to the dresser, yanked open the bottom drawer, found a pair of gym shorts and pulled them out. Then she yanked open a middle drawer and found an LVPD golf shirt to put on. She dressed in an angry rage, mumbling to herself over and over that he had better not think he was going to get away with treating her this way.

Once she was dressed in his clothes, hanging off of her in every direction, she began to search the room for her own clothes, but she found nothing out of place, other than the bed. Everything had been tidied up in the room, and that made her even angrier. Does he think he can just wipe everything away?

Sara threw open the bedroom door and made her way out into the living room. When she entered the room, she discovered that there was no evidence of the maelstrom of passion which had blown through the room just hours before. The clothing had been picked up, the furniture righted and the pictures and cases centered once again. It was almost as though the whole thing had been a dream, but Sara knew deep down in her soul there was no way it was only a dream.

She was standing in the center of the room, her face red with anger and her breathing becoming ragged in her fury, when she finally noticed the movement on the other side of the breakfast bar in the kitchen. His back was turned to her and she could not see his face. She also could not hear anything at first, because her blood was boiling with such ferocity that her ears were roaring with the rush. But then it happened. She heard a strange sound coming from the kitchen. It was whistling. Grissom was whistling.

When he turned to grab something from the cabinet behind him, he caught site of her in the center of his living room, and then he did something that shocked Sara to her very core: he smiled at her. It was not a cautious smile or even a friendly smile. It was filled with warmth, and it was the most inviting smile she could ever remember seeing on his face.

He looked down at the watch on his wrist and then looked back at her as he moved out of the kitchen, "Hey there, sleepyhead. I was beginning to think I was going to have to wake you up for breakfast."

His voice shocked her out of her stupor, and she shook her head to clear the fog of confusion which had just fallen over her. "Um, no… I guess I was, ah, just tired."

He crossed the rest of the distance between them, while she fought to make sense of the whole thing. He stopped just short of her personal space and looked her up and down, "I don't think that outfit would turn many heads on the strip, but it's the best thing I've seen in a long time." He grinned at her and then kissed her on the forehead. "Come on and sit down… I'm almost done in here." He motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen, and that was when she noticed he was wearing an apron and holding a spatula. His apron was covered in what looked like flour and he seemed to be trying to keep from getting anything on Sara. Once she had padded into the kitchen, he kicked out one of the backed bar stools from the breakfast bar, pointing for her to take the seat. He turned back to the cook top, but began talking with his back to her, "Sorry, I wasn't really planning on any company, so I'm afraid all I have to offer you is some apple juice and some pancakes I managed to whip up." He turned back around to her, "You do eat pancakes, still? Even if I used butter?"

She realized he was asking about her being a vegetarian and responded, "Yeah, I'm just a no meat vegetarian. I'm not rabid over it." He chuckled at her answer and turned back to his griddle.

"That's good… I had to settle for pancakes, because I didn't even have enough eggs for a decent omelet. And for some reason I didn't even think to check before I ran out to get the shower stuff." He turned back to face her again, "Did I get enough of that? Or even come close to the right stuff?"

She was shocked at his question, because it meant that he had purposely left the house in search of those items for her to take a shower in his home. "Um, yeah, it was fine."

He smiled and turned back to his cooking, "Oh good… I'm afraid I'm not very well versed in that sort of thing, so I was hoping I hadn't screwed it up."

Sara smirked at his response, and realized she had awakened to a whole new world, and as she drew her knees up into the seat with her, she also decided she needed to stop reacting as though it was still the old one. This is going to take some getting used to.

Grissom flipped his last pancake up into the air and caught it on the plate with all the others, as he turned around to face her with that adorable smirk of his curling the side of his mouth. "Hungry?"

"Starved." She smiled back at him, and he kissed her forehead again when he put the plate of pancakes down in front of her, before turning around to reach into the refrigerator.

When he returned to the breakfast bar, he had a bottle of apple juice and a small sauce pot from the cook top. "I'm afraid there's no maple syrup, so I made something else to go with the pancakes." He placed the small, handled pot down onto a ceramic tile and poured her a glass of juice before sitting down beside her at the breakfast bar.

She leaned over and sniffed the pot, "Mmmmmm… That smells like cinnamon?" She was surprised he had known that she loved cinnamon in almost any form.

"Yeah, don't ask me why, but-…" When she looked at him, he had the most confused expression on his face, "But I have been thinking about cinnamon ever since last night. I even could've sworn I tasted it when I woke up." He screwed up his mouth to one side as he tried to figure out the mystery that had been plaguing him, but Sara's face was beginning to flood with a deep blush. When he turned to look at her, she was lowering her gaze with a hand up to her mouth, "What?"

She looked up into his eyes, and though he was genuinely wondering what she was giggling about, she loved the confused expression on his face. Unable to hide the mystery any longer, she leaned over and gently kissed his lips. She had only intended on it being a tender and quick peck, but when he met her caress, it became a loving exchange between the two of them. Just before they pulled away, his eyes opened wide in surprise and he held her back from him a moment, "It was you?"

It was her turn to screw up her mouth in a satisfied smirk, "Well, my lip gloss anyway."

He sat there for a moment, but she could tell that something to say had struck him, and she prepared for the horribly corny line she just knew was about to escape that wonderful mouth of his. He tilted his head to the side, took the pot from the tile and began to pour the rich sauce over her pancakes, but when he made it over to his plate, he was unable to resist the line any longer, "Sugar and spice, and everything nice."

She stuffed the first bite into her mouth as she leaned against him trying not to laugh as she chewed the food. He just sat there with a satisfied grin on his face.

They finished their meal in a quiet silence, but their eyes rarely left one another as they ravenously consumed the food he had prepared for them. The silence came from two sources; their sudden comfort together, and their fear that it might all come crashing down if one of them made the wrong move.

As Gil watched the last morsel of food disappear into her very sensual mouth, he found that he was mesmerized by the sight of her. He knew that he could not keep up the silence any longer. His own lingering doubts were screaming at him to say something. SAY SOMETHING!

"Sara?" He waited for her to reluctantly face him, "What does all this mean?"

"Wow… Six years and you choose NOW to lay it all out?" She was completely flabbergasted that he would be the one to start the conversation.

He looked down and took her hand into his, as he threaded his fingers into hers, "Better late than never?"

She placed her other hand on his cheek and forced him to look up into her eyes. "We've been dancing around this for more than six years… So, US figuring it all out in one night is never going to happen, Gris."

When he did not move for a while, she dropped her legs to the floor and stood beside his seat. But it was when she took his head into her arms that he finally began to respond, "Is it never going to be easy for us?"

She chuckled a little at his question and held him closer to her breast, "Only if we're lucky." They both laughed at her answer, because they knew in their hearts she was one hundred percent correct. They were simply not easy people, and that was what made them great. Not just alone, but especially together. They both knew in that moment, if nothing else, life would never get boring around them.

When he finally raised his gaze again, he saw a glint of desire in Sara's eyes, and he looked down at his watch. "Well, we have a few hours before I can take the clothes to the dry cleaners and go to the grocery store… Got any suggestions?"

She raised her eyebrow and took his hand before turning and beginning to walk away from the breakfast bar. He had one last remark to make, "But what about the dishes?" The heated and salacious look on her face when she turned back to glare at him sent tendrils of ecstasy throughout his entire being, "I can buy more."