Laura reflected upon the change she saw in her daughter with this man. The teacher of whom she had always spoken so affectionately. Yes, there had been times when he had infuriated by the sound of it, but watching Gil and Sara together, she knew that they both suited each other. He catered to her intense side, an aspect of Sara's personality that Laura had always been afraid to indulge. But Grissom also treated her with so much respect, so much love. He held her hand, he comforted her, and he probably wouldn't be all that bad in the sack either. And that was what Sara needed. Someone who would care for her and make her feel like she was the only person on Earth. Laura wondered if she herself found him attractive. Oh, there was no doubt about it. He exuded power, confidence and ease, usually, but there was a draker tendency within him, a tendency that Laura had seen in other men. She had been concerned at first with this side of Grissom, but looking back now - she knew he would never purposely hurt Sara. He had too much heart, even if he could be clueless. Yes, he was attractive, but he was too much like Sara. He wouldn't have suited her. And Laura didn't know if she felt bitter about it. Yes, she was happy that Sara seemed better now, but she couldn't help but feel jealous. Why couldn't Laura find a guy like that, who didn't treat her like shit? She smiled sardonically and puffed on her cigarette.

"You should really quit those things," came a deep voice from the bedroom door. Grissom stood there, leaning against the frame, in a apir of jeans and a white t-shirt.

Laura smiled. "You didn't seem to be of that opinion before," she reminded him.

"Ah, yes," he conceded, coming to take a seat at the kitchen table. "So, now I've managed to patch things up with Sara, how are you?"

"Free psychoanalysist sessions?" Laura questioned.

"Well, I'm here now" he told her. "Might as well do 'two for the price of one.' It's my prerogative to ensure the female Sidles are okay, y'know?"

She smiled at him. "Gil, I'm happy that my daughter's found you."

"But?"

"But ... it's not fair. I can't think of anyone who deserves you more than her."

"Except maybe you," he finished. "You don't want me, per se, but you want someone who will care for you." He nodded, biting his lower lip. "It's a toughie, isn't it? I can put in touch with a couple of guys I know, but I don't think that's your scene."

"You know how it is. One blemish on your past, shit, one little quirk, and you're not even worth taking a shit on. They don't want to know."

"You don't have to tell me about it. Sara's the first woman I've dated who isn't freaked out by bugs or dead bodies. She even persuaded me to take her to the body farm. All women I used to go out with would dump me when I mentioned I was a forensic entomologist."

"Maybe you should have told them you were a forensic etymologist." They both laughed. "See what I mean? How nice it is not to be judged by someone?"

Grissom grinned. "I'd suggest a threesoe, but it's never a good idea when blood relatives are involved, and it's definitely not my scene. That's another thing. Not seeing the light of day automatically makes people assume you're kinky."

"Are you?"

Grissom blushed. "Not something I particularly wanna go into with my lover's mother. Maybe you can squeeze it out of Sara one day."

"So you're lovers now?"

"Unconsummated lovers," Grissom corrected. "But, yeah, we are." He paused uncomfortably. "So you're okay with me being with your daughter?"

Laura laughed in disbelief - after all she had said, he was still seeking her approval. "If she didn't have a stake in you, I'd be after you." She reched over and patted his sleeve. "I don't care about your age, your profession, your past - all that's important is that you love her. And you make her happy. Which you do, so it's all good." She studied his face. "I can understand why it took you two so long to get anywhere."

"Huh?" he grunted, frowning slightly.

"You're completely clueless. God, that's so sweet," she trilled. "Sara!" she called.

A dishevlled head poked around the bathroom door. "Mom, I'm busy!"

"Is this guy not the cutest?" Laura yelled.

Sara rolled her eyes, and received an apologetic grin from Grissom. "Yes, he is. That's why I love him. Can I continue getting ready?"

"Sure."

The rest of the day, the three of them just relaxed around the apartment. Laura watched television, and a programme occassionally appealed to Sara, but for the most part, she lay at one end of the sofa engaged in a book, with Grissom at the other end rading his book, their legs meeting and intertwining in the middle. Laura and Sara cooked their evening meal together, leaving Grissom to his own devices (i.e. reading) for an hour or so.

"He needs his own space," Sara explained after she had followed her mother to the kitchen.

"What guy doesn't?" Laura hadn't missed the anxiety in her daughter's face. "Honey, what are you so worried about?"

Sara leaned against the counter and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm scared that when we go back to Vegas, he's going to decide that he can't be around me. That because he sees me at work five days a week, he'll feel I'm around him too much, and that he won't be able to bear it." She closed her eyes, heaving a sigh that matched the swell of her chest.

"Have you told him that?" Laura asked as she pulled utensils and food from the cupboards.

"Mom, I can't do that to him. It's already been hard enough for him to cope with everything we've drudged up here. I don't need to give him an extra excuse to run off and leave me."

"Sara, have you though about this ratioanlly? From how he's acted here, from what he's told me regarding his feelings for you, I think abandoning you is the last thing on his mind. He strikes me as the sort of person to carry things through to the end. He's a scientist, damnit! He's conscientious." Her words seemed to have a calming effect on her daughter. "Look, never mind helping me here. If it's so important, talk to him about it. I'm sure he'll understand."

Sara felt the sensation of deja vu, going to tell Grissom about one more thing that scared her, or upset, or plagued her mind. If she was feeling like this, she could bet she was probably pissing him off. "Griss?" er voice was quite, reluctant to invade his space or his thoughts.

Gil looked up and saw Sara standing hunched by the other end of the couch. He smiled brightly. "Hey. Can;t stay away, huh? I gotta say, I was beginning to miss you sitting here." He sat up and patted his legs. "Come and sit on my knee," he said. When he saw the look on her face, he repeated the gesture. "Come on, I won't bite. At least, I won't if you don't want me to," he added, his eyes twinkling in smutty delight.

Sara nervously approached him and perched herself awkwardly on his knees. He immediately slipped his arms around her and pressed his face to her side, breathing in her scent.

"So, honey, what seems to be the problem?"

"I'm scared."

"Of what?" One hand rubbed absent-mindedly at her back, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Vegas. I don't want us to get back and have you realise that you don't want me around. You'll be around me for one shift a day, five days a week. I ...".

He pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. "Honey, you won't be around me for five shifts a week. I was hoping maybe you'd stay with me at weekends as well, and that we could have breakfast and dinner together. I want you to stop worrying that I'm gonna bail on you, and we've already gone into that. Short of making a blood pact with you, I don't know what else I can say apart from 'I love you and I want you.' You know me. I have my office, I use that as my personal space. And I'm sure we could come to some dort of agreement if we lived together, no matter how infrequent it was. I know you value your privacy. You're independent, and so am I, ad that's what's so good about us. We understand that on some days we might not want to be around other people. We should adapt to that fact, not spend needless energy obsessing over the fact that we might not be able to change it." He pulled her closer to him, capturing her in a tender kiss. "I love you," he ennunciated, resting his forehead against hers. "Unless you give me my marching orders, I'm not going anywhere."